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Morbid Angel - Altars Of Madness - 1989
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#MorbidAngel #AltarsOfMadness

Me and Atomic Aggressor go back a ways. I remember back in college, I somehow ended up in possession of their 2008 compilation Rise of the Ancient Ones, a raw and savage collection of songs that essentially comprised what was then the entire discography of this cult Chilean death metal band. Sadly, featured works like their apparently infamous 1989 demo Bloody Ceremonial proved too barbaric and unpolished for someone just starting to explore the extreme metal underground, and I ended up shelving the CD until well after I sprouted my first gray hair. As such, I spent most of their set at the 2016 Hells Headbash taking a nap on a barstool, and I entirely missed that Hells Headbangers put out the band’s long-awaited full-length debut, Sights of Suffering, in 2014. When I finally discovered Suffering a few years after its release, I realized just how much I’d been missing out. That record was an absolute banger of a death metal album that combined an olde-school ethos with a potent production job and an air of archaic, Lovecraftian mystery. After 2019’s solid Invoking the Primal Chaos EP, this Chilean death troupe are now finally back with their second album, The Occult Forces.

As one might expect from a band over four decades into their career, little has changed stylistically from Atomic Aggressor’s past works. While the group’s “nuclear warfare” moniker suggests something that’s war metal adjacent, in actuality the band play the type of ancient, thrash-infused death metal that treads the same dank corridors as Sadistic Intent and their Peruvian peers in Mortem. Songs barrel forward on crunchy and galloping riffs that often morph into sinister and shadowy tremolos before bursting into bouts of wild and surprisingly adept solos. All the while, vocalist and bassist Alejandro Díaz delivers a demonic and raspy growl that hasn’t lost a bit of intensity over the years. This is clearly a group that was forged in the fires of the 80s and maintains those influences proudly, with the blood of early Morbid Angel oozing from every orifice of these eight songs. “Forms from the Occult,” in particular, combines slithering and belligerent chords in a way that sounds like a lost cut from Blessed Are the Sick. Likewise, some riffs in “Evil from Beneath” sound like they were conjured from the same black ritual that gave us “Damnation” from Altars of Madness.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, the band excel on The Occult Forces not by pushing the envelope, but by nailing the execution of their chosen sound. From Alejandro’s vocals to the relentless riffs of founding guitarist Enrique Zúñiga and fellow axe-slingerJulio Bórquez, the group sound downright invigorated throughout these 43 minutes. This is particularly apparent on the opener, “Souls Degradation,” which careens forward with spunkier and jumpier riffs than I ever recall hearing from the band. Other songs further differentiate themselves from the past. The aforementioned “Evil from Beneath” features some surprisingly melodic ideas that faintly recall old At the Gates, while “Dwellers of the Unknown” combines hostile riffs with a recurring, cinematic motif and a brief, ghastly midsection of particularly raspy vocals. Through it all, the production once again remains clear and powerful without sacrificing any of the band’s otherworldly mystique.

The biggest quibble here is that, at times, Atomic Aggressor seem a little too comfortable. The band never get particularly fast or slow and instead charge forth at a similar tempo throughout, even though a doomy segment here and there would have gone a long way. Likewise, many of these songs feel somewhat labyrinthine in construction and are thus fun to explore but don’t always immediately embed their hooks into your flesh. Fortunately, aside from the redundant-sounding (and strangely-titled) “Divided to Conceived,” every song crafts its own wicked identity, and each track is absolutely littered with manic guitar leads. This is no more true than on the closer, “Tormenting Voices,” which strikes with especially aggressive riffing and a series of dueling solos that close the album in grand fashion.

Given the band’s age and slow release rate, I’m not sure if we’ll ever see another record from Atomic Aggressor. While that’d be a huge bummer, The Occult Forces would certainly be a worthy swansong. This is a record that proudly wears the cracked leather jacket of the oldest of old school death metal, an album that steadfastly waves the banner of South American extreme metal while offering exactly the sort of thrashing, no-frills death metal that this world needs far more of.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps
Label: Hells Headbangers Records
Websites: atomicaggressor.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/atomicaggressor
Releases Worldwide: August 28th, 2026

Lord, bless this cess! Out of left field, from the old laundry-detergent sump behind the abandoned meatpacking emporium, come the horrible sounds of Finland’s Azatoth. Lurking around the worst corners of the Finnish death scene since 2020, Azatoth finally unleashes their full-length debut on a not-so-innocent world. With a team of well-traveled vets involved, what does Carnal Lust of Blasphemy offer a death metal fan besides the most cut-and-paste title possible? In short, it serves up a nasty bit of retro, caveman death and grind with distasteful blacked edges. Moreover, it gives nothing back to the academic community and provides no public service of any kind. It’s disgusting, repellent shit with reeking bits of Autopsy, Morbid Angel, and Undergang clinging to the unwashed carcASS of their musical abomination. Are you ready to disimpact? Here it comes!

Opener “Flooding Human Remains” is everything one could want from an excessive serving of greasy death biscuits. The speed is unsafe, the vocals belch from the deepest depths of the human pus center, and the drumming is berserk enough to shake your fillings out. In other words, it’s a fucking glorious rip-ride as it stumbles from early 90s death into grind and back again. The vocals are so damn moist and viscous, you can feel yourself slipping on them as you try to comprehend the insane guitar pyrotechnics destabilizing your brain. Oh, and there are whammy dives! “Veins of Rotten Blood” is more of the same unhealthy ear abuse with the right blend of aggression, insanity, and unpleasantness. The vocals are almost comical in their over-the-topitude, and goddamn, those riffs and solos are labyrinthine but so hooky, festooned with jagged pinch harmonics. Yeah, this shit is pinchy.

The first 18 minutes of Carnal Lust of Blasphemy offer some of the best death metal I’ve heard in a while, and I want 5 hours of the same shitfun. “Abomination of the Underworld” lurches from face-blasting aggression to doomy digressions, and even teases with vague hints of Death right as they begin transitioning from caveman to prog circa Human. For bonus points, they toss in some classy James Murphy-esque solos, and they hit the nostalgia nerve hard. There are some minor stumbles along the blasphemy path, however. “Sulfuric Paths to Agony” is a meaty hot pocket of death excess interwoven with doomy and ritualistic bits. It’s good but doesn’t hit as hard as the early numbers, and at 6 minutes it feels like it overstays its welcome. That leads right into a short moody interlude, and the combination of the two tracks tends to bog the album down a notch or two. Luckily, “Blasphemous Flesh” is a sick beast bent on regaining the momentum. It sounds like the bastard spawn of a sleazy hookup between Incantation and Morbid Angel after it was raised by honey badgers and meth heads till the age of 20. This is the shit I love, and boy howdy do they bring it good and hard. Also… whammy dives! The back third of the album is all killer and no filler, leaving you bruised, contused, and utterly amused. At a tight 39 minutes, there isn’t much fat on this rotten sack o’ guts. The production suits the material with a shock-and-awe sound that leaves room for slime and cave moss.

The vocals by Nuclear Lucifer are over-indulgent and grotesque. You can almost feel the throat coatings hit you in the face, and something in there is way more liquid than it should be. The croaking, grunting, and vomiting are all first-rate and convincing. The real stars of the show, though, are Chainsaw Gamache and Bogman Levo, who tear your entire skinsuit off with insane fretboard molestation. These boys can shred more than flesh, and at times their solos are jaw-droppingly insane. I hesitate to say they hit neo-classical levels, but they get close before returning to their murder riffs and brainsaw leads that slither and bite. I would be remiss not to mention the crazed drum performance by Godvomit Hämäläinen.1 The man has 6 arms, or else it’s all studio trickery. Either way, it’s a vulgar display of meat shower.

Azatoth may be an unknown name in death circles, but an album like Carnal Lust of Blasphemy is how one gets noticed fast. This is high-grade death metal with bells and whistles that never detract from the caveman and the cavern lifestyle. It’s short, nasty, and brutish, and that’s exactly what I need. Don’t let this one fly under your metal detector, people. This is the womit pile you want to fall in.2

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Extremely Rotten Productions
Websites: azatoth-fin.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/azatothband | instagram.com/azatothdm
Releases Worldwide: Augst 21st, 2026

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.

🇺🇦 #NowPlaying on #KEXP's #VarietyMix

Morbid Angel:
🎵 Maze of Torment

#MorbidAngel

https://metallicosick.bandcamp.com/track/morbid-angel-maze-of-torment

https://open.spotify.com/track/7t5riom6kdqXkb1VzTlAaH

🎶 show playlist 👇
https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6G4PaS9BNkIuGqMo44rbfZ

🎶 KEXP playlist 👇
https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6VNALrOa3gWbk794YuIrwg

Apparently Chilean death-thrash crew Ripper raised quite a ruckus in the 2014-2017 period with a series of well-regarded hyperkinetic death-thrash albums, the most recent of which was 2016s Experiment of Existence. I missed all of this buzz-worthy carrying on and came to their latest release completely tabula rasa. Sometimes that’s the best way to greet a band with established history, as you bring no expectations or biases developed from past experience. The version of Ripper I encountered on their 3rd album Towards Rebirth are coming off a nearly 10-year layoff to deliver mega-aggressive, speed-drenched death-thrashery of an impressive caliber, reminding of early days Sepultura, Morbid Saint, and at times even Nocturnus (R.I.P. Mike Browning). While it’s safe to say Ripper’s sound and approach are stuck in the late 80s/early 90s, they attack their assignment with so much wanton exuberance that it’s hard not to get behind the effort and enjoy the ensuing conflagration. But how much raw aggression can a band push out after 10 long years collecting rust and dust?

After a tasty and brief instrumental opening, Ripper rips it up on “World of Darkness,” blasting and thrashing like an industrial meat mauler. But wait…I know that wild opening riff from somewhere, but where? Why, it’s almost exactly the lead riff from Riot’s immortal speed metal gem “Thundersteel”! How dare they filch such an iconic piece of New York metal history! Ultimately it isn’t too big a deal, since that “borrowed” riff is consigned to history almost immediately and they blanket the field with numerous other frenzied leads and multiple transitions up and down the tempo dial. This is pure thrash insanity with frenetic drumming, berserk basslines, and vocals that sound like vintage Max Cavalera after bad Taco Bell lettuce. The title track offers no respite with a slick cascading lead riff that kicks names and takes ass as the high-velocity madness runs wild and free. The guitar work is especially inspired, and the commitment to thrashing until death and beyond is much appreciated. The maelstrom of maniacal speed has no let-up, and as Ripper try to rupture space and time, you’ll be treated to nods to the early days of Morbid Angel on “Into the Coldness of Land of Dead” and “The Source Exterminator,” and “Message from the Other Side” recalls the early days of Deathrow.

The biggest surprise is the 6-minute instrumental “The Secret Dawn.” It’s a throwback to the 80s where such long-winded compositions were normal and almost expected, as bands sought to flex their wank hands to impress the masses. While I’m normally not the biggest fan of such non-vocal shred factories, this one is an engaging ride from start to finish, and it leaves me quite impressed with what Ripper are capable of. Elsewhere, the slightly more techy vibe of “The End of the Universe” brings the Nocturnus flavor to the airlock, and it’s a fun little ditty. The writing and playing are solid, and though every track is a blast fest, there are interesting musical choices and enough nifty riffs per song to keep the brain engaged. Do the individual tracks eventually start to blur together? Sure, but it’s an entertaining enough blur. At just under 42 minutes, things move too fast for Towards Rebirth to feel overlong, though a minute of 2 could probably be shaved off a track here and there.

The boys in Ripper are a talented lot. Patricio Spalinger and new slinger Nicolás Young come at you at full force 120% of the time with a cavalcade of ripping, tearing thrash lines and side-quests into zippy old school death grooves. What I like most about their six-string interplay is how it reminds me of so many 80s and 90s bands without really ripping any of them off (minus that whole Riot thing). There are some truly impressive riff and solo moments here, and these cats know how to craft cool, memorable leads that stick. New bassist Tomás Barriga plays at a berserk pace, delivering a chaotic low-end rumble that’s very audible and sounds like he’s always on the verge of losing control. At certain moments, his playing begins to sound like a car engine about to overheat, and that adds to the sheer rush of the music. Patricio Spalinger’s death vocals are one-dimensional and often no more than a rough bark, but they fit the style well and detract not at all.

Towards Rebirth is a rocket ride full of overdelivered speed, and there’s enough raw energy here to power a small town. It doesn’t offer anything new, aside from a very sore ass after all the kicking it receives here. I had good fun with Ripper’s latest, and it’s got me digging into their earlier releases hoping for more of the same. Ripper are reborn hard and mean, and they want to sonically abuse your ears. Let them.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Dark Descent
Websites: facebook.com/ripperchileoficial | instagram.com/ripper.chile
Releases Worldwide: July 24th, 2026

Mike Browning, Ex-Schlagzeuger von Morbid Angel, ist gestorben.
Ich hab's auf DLF Kultur gehört. In der Hochphase des Death Metal hat sich der Sender nicht dafür interessiert. Das ist eine gute Entwicklung. Vielleicht könnten nachts statt der philharmonischen Konzertwerke auch mal Alben der Metal-Genres laufen? Ich präferiere Doom.
#dlfkultur #morbidangel #deathmetal

American musician #MikeBrowning has died 🥁 #MorbidAngel #Nocturnus #AfterDeath #drums #vocals #metal #heavymetal #music

If unrepentant guitar shredding gets your juices flowing, be warned that Arise from Worms bursts at the seams with face-melting indulgence on A Bleeding Tree Hanging Self Destruction. Boasting legends from essential death metal bands, Arise from Worms sports a first-rate, international pedigree. The project’s genesis stems from Sonny Lombardozzi, who seeks to push past genre boundaries in his quest for technical ecstasy. Lombardozzi spent time with Incantation from 2017 to 2019, contributing guitars for Profane Nexus, and recruited Morbid Angel vocalist Steve Tucker while supporting the Tampa institution on tour.1 From there, Lombardozzi rounded out the band with first-rate musicians. Cryptopsy‘s Flo Mounier bashes skulls and skins with his signature percussive shellacking, and ex-Dream Theater, ex-Yngwie Malmsteen keyboardist Derek Sherinian lends his high-velocity runs and proggy accents. Armed with enough firepower to defend a small nation, does A Bleeding Tree Hanging Self Destruction pack enough punch to make our collective worms arise?

Based solely on the members involved, A Bleeding Tree Hanging Self Destruction may not sound like what listeners expect to hear. Though Morbid Angel embodies an apt starting place with their serpentine riffs, Arise from Worms accelerates the speed and jolts guitar tones with a candied DragonForce coating. Sherinian’s contributions occasionally skew towards Dream Theater,2 though A Bleeding Tree requires a darker degree of menace and foreboding. Overall, Arise from Worms sounds a lot like Necrophagist, but with keyboards and a penchant for wankery. And though this comparison isn’t perfect, it gives prospective listeners a point to begin shaping expectations.

Arise from Worms’ performances across A Bleeding Tree Hanging Self Destruction doubtlessly spellbind with technicality. Lombardozzi’s masterclass shredding eats up the stage at every turn as he dances up and down the fretboard with enough gusto to make Yngwie blush. From the gratuitous weedlies in “Forgotten Kings” to the Annihilator-ready precision chugging in “Laolongtou,” Lombardozzi never leaves listeners doubting his greed for speed, whether on guitars or bass (“Axes of the Viovode 2”). In fact, Arise from Worms showcases excellent bassmanship throughout A Bleeding Tree, often shadowing the guitars with rousing plucking and impossibly dextrous burbles. Meanwhile, Mounier discharges an unimpeachable onslaught behind the kit, where furious double bass rolls (“Psionic Being”), jazz-flavored snare and cymbal finesse (“Nine Walls”), and tempered beatdowns amidst metronomic grooves (“Raize Demons Breath,” “Axes of the Viovode 1”) epitomize his exacting style and capture what makes him one of my favorite metal drummers. Similarly, Sherinian embeds synth flourishes and eldritch atmospherics to give Arise from Worms ample mystique while loosing dazzling keyboard cascades every now and again (“Laolongtou”). Though not as immediately eye-popping as the instrumentation, Tucker delivers an appropriately monstrous performance on A Bleeding Tree, and if there’s one ingredient Arise from Worms could use more of, it’s Tucker’s vicious vocals.

Unfortunately, despite the wizardry dripping off Arise from Worms’ A Bleeding Tree, insufficient songwriting prevents the technicality from coalescing into fully formed songs. “Forgotten Kings” and “Axes of the Viovode 1 & 2” give Tucker just enough of a platform to build towards proper tracks, but after a few listens, A Bleeding Tree loses its allure and leaks its jaw-dropping magic—even at a reasonable thirty-six minutes. More positively, the music sounds great, with Lombardozzi commanding Arise from Worms with frictionless licks and searing speeds. Given the bad reputation technical death metal gets for poor production, I find A Bleeding Tree a step above in this department, where strings, keys, drums, and vocals crash into one another with satisfying zeal while allowing each other plenty of room within the mix.

As a fan of technical showmanship and a high tolerance for self-indulgent instrumentation, Arise from Worms’ debut leaves me impressed yet mostly unmoved. A Bleeding Tree Hanging Self Destruction sounds incredible on paper, and lead single “Forgotten Kings” had me convinced that this would be a special album. In the promo materials, Arise from Worms touts breaking new musical ground and pioneering the writing of novel harmonies and time signatures. Yet in reality, A Bleeding Tree often exhibits the technicality of a clinic or workshop while lacking the songwriting cohesion to elevate songs past the surface. In the end, A Bleeding Tree lingers between outstanding performances and an inadequate execution of fulfilling metal songcraft, and while A Bleeding Tree may be worth Hanging around for, Arise for Worms carries more promise than they deliver on their debut.

Rating: Mixed
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: V0 or ~260 kbps VBR mp3
Label: Church Road Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: July 10th, 2026

Nestled in the underground crevices and rocky terrain of Denver, Colorado, emerging upstarts Crypts of Golgotha rise with the debut full-length, Disembodied in the Arms of Perdition, hellbent on bruising and battering the weak. Formed in 2022, the four-piece have cranked out a busy collection of demos, EPs and split releases before arriving at their debut LP. The term is perhaps used a little loosely in this case, as Crypts of Golgotha strip shit down to the bare essentials, crushing the listener into submission over the course of an all too brief twenty-four-minute beatdown. Boasting an uber chunky style of brutal, groove-infected death, let us dig in to see whether Crypts of Golgotha possess the chops and songwriting smarts to elevate themselves from the overcrowded pack.

As quickly determined, subtlety is not in the Crypts of Golgotha playbook. Nor are they preoccupied with techy flatulence, shitty interludes or throwaway instrumentals. These dudes cut to the chase, using the almighty power of the riff to drive each rugged, in-your-face composition, packing each meaty slab with enough tempo shifts, cohesion and structural variety to maintain interest. Tight, direct and refreshingly clutter- and gimmick-free, Crypts of Golgotha draws inspiration from classic sources, including the mighty Suffocation, Dying Fetus and Morbid Angel. Outside of the classic fare, Crypts of Golgotha strike a nifty balance of contemporary meets old school influences, recalling the immense weight, riff-based chugs, and uppercutting grooves of modern heavyweights Bloodgutter, Unhallowed Deliverance, and reliable Danish vets, Dawn of Demise.

Crypts of Golgotha slather their old school ideals with a modern approach, complete with lashings of slammy groove, pit-ready breakdowns, and guttural brutal death, wrapped in a dense, beefy production and darkly gritty underground atmosphere. Sprightly and impactful, Crypts of Golgotha crafted a heavyweight platform of bricks and mortar to expand upon. Roots of budding potential are well established, as Crypts of Golgotha thrive on pummeling the listener into dust, slowing down to bowel-rumbling levels for maximum heaviness, while frequently shifting tempos and rhythmic patterns to ensure the material doesn’t devolve into monotony. Instrumentally heavy opener “Cross on Calvary” spends most of its runtime battering auditory senses through beefy riffs, slick tempo changes, and a devastatingly heavy climax. Featuring impressive quality and consistency, Disembodied in the Arms of Perdition features a rampaging collection of killer tunes, with nary a moment wasted. Brutally rugged riffs, sick dual vox, and gargantuan grooves regularly detonate with crushing, infectious impact (“Disembodied in the Arms of Perdition,” ‘Pummeled into Nonexistence,” “I am Decay”).

“Wolf and the Knife” draws power from its thick, sinewy basslines, slobber-knocking riffs, and techy, urgent throes, while “Elegy of the Forgotten God” channels the stout power and attitude of classic New York death. The rapid affair concludes with the compellingly riff-stacked and body-slamming grooves of “Order to Comply.” Technically proficient without resorting to flashy showmanship, Crypts of Golgotha sound immensely tight and monstrously heavy. Showcasing a deft handle of songcraft, bolstered by a weighty sack of hammering riffs and gnarly, varied vox to drive momentum, the riffs cycle through brutal and classic death metal influences, cutting a satisfyingly heavy wallop and a brutally infectious streak. Guitars are reinforced by extra beefy tones, mixing sledgehammer heft and sharp clarity. Gabe Sragon (also on vox) and Dominik Dworak wield their axes with confidence and a nasty underground swagger. I would be remiss not to highlight the excellent rhythm section, from Cooper Jones’ ever-present, chunkified bass rumbles to the bulldozing, groove-centric and creative patterns of drummer Joaquin Aragon.

Strengths comfortably outweigh any nitpicks or weaknesses on Disembodied in the Arms of Perdition. To be expected from a young band’s debut LP, there is naturally room for growth and development in the songwriting department to refine their identity, and occasionally the album could benefit from more frequent bursts of speed. While reluctant to draw a negative of refreshing brevity, the album leaves you wanting more, making for enjoyable replay value, but a feeling an extra few minutes of material would have made for a more fully fleshed-out experience. Otherwise, matching songwriting smarts to compliment the preposterously guttural onslaughts and knuckle-dragging bruteness, Crypts of Golgotha unleashed a confident, delightfully crushing debut, with youth on their side to hone their craft into an even more deadly form of thuggish savagery.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: N/A | Format Reviewed: Stream
Label: DSFP Records
Website: Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: June 26th, 2026

Astriferous slimed out of the Costa Rican death metal scene back in 2019 and have been on a slow, upward crawl since. Their 2023 Pulsations from the Black Orb debut grabbed them some attention and a mostly positive review from our own Ferox. Their weapon of choice is repugnant caverncore with a dose of dissonance, putting them squarely in the Incantation, Dead Congregation, and early days Tomb Mold wing of the death emporium. Atavistic Unraveling finds them stuck in the same filth and scum with scant migration toward the light of day. It’s still fugly, grotesque death metal of the olden school, with the dissonance element adding a slight touch of modernity. Their sound is a bit more fleshed out this time, and when everything clicks, things can feel pretty goddamn harrowing and brutal. With so many bands trying to ape the classic Incantation sound and vibe, can Astriferous do enough to crack through that thick mucous membrane and claim their share of the cesspool? Let’s test the tainted waters for hazardous algae.

Fucknormous opener “Carriers of the Curse” is a fine way to kick things off, and it has all the crucial elements. It’s not doing anything new, but it comes after you with so much raw savagery that innovation starts to seem trivial. It covers all the bases a caverncore tune should, from ragged blasting to slower mid-tempo plodding, and there’s a meatheaded Cannibal Corpse vibe to the riffs when they aren’t being all snakey and creepy. The only downside is that it feels like the song rambles on for about a minute too long, revisiting the same scorched territory. “The Floating Catacombs” is more of the same high-quality ear abuse, with slimy, repulsive riffs and subterranean vocals teamed with caveman moments and some weirdly Voivodian riffs popping in and out for variety. As the album churns along, you get quality nastiness, but there’s that nagging tendency to stretch out compositions a bit too far, reducing the overall impact. This despite the fact that most song run between 4-5 minutes. It’s a weird thing. “Proto Embryo (The Third Tribulation)” is a remorseless blast furnace with just enough tempo shifts to keep things interesting, but it just keeps going when it feels like it should be over. Likewise, “Arcane Demonomania” is another blistering ass blaster with a jagged d-beat and a plethora of ugly, squiriming riffs. It’s easy to love, but once again, it drags on toward the end.

A few tracks are good but less impactful, like “Mnemonic Phenomena,” despite some effective doomy segments and overwhelming vocal excess. 8-plus minute closer “Resonance Cascade” is more modern-sounding, venturing into sludge doom at points. At its best, it can feel oppressive and suffocating. Over the whole runtime, though, it ends up challenging the attention span as segments of less interesting riffs drift by, offering little to cling to. The album’s nearly omnipresent sense of bloat makes a 36-minute album feel much longer than it is, which is a shame because Astriferous do so many things right here.

Felipe Tencio and new slinger Esteban Sancho are at the center of a maelstrom, casting frantic corkscrewing riffs in all directions when not laying down big power chugs that put the boot on the throat. This tandem knows the ways of caverncore, and many of these leads probably slithered away after recording to become invasive species somewhere. Incantation is a clear influence, but I also hear Immolation, Morbid Angel, and Cannibal Corpse in the DNA. Tencio is a great death metal vocalist possessed with a deep, intimidating roar for the ages. He sounds demonic and gigantic and anchors the material to the Ninth Level of Hell. José Pablo Phillips also impresses with a pronounced and weighty bass performance. The only real knock is that the writing can be undisciplined and too long in the fang, thereby partially unraveling the band’s good works.

Astriferous have a winning formula and the talent to execute it, and parts of Atavistic Unraveling scream of potential and hint at greatness. With tighter, more consistent writing, this would be a must-hear and headed for my year-end list. As it stands, I can safely recommend this for death heads everywhere as the wet, sticky goods are delivered, even if they aren’t all equally malicious and infectious. Like my great-granddaddy Pig Iron Druhm used to say, “If the cave smells of rancid mold, there’s bound to be some gold.” Wisdom!

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Me Saco Un Ojo
Website: instagram.com/astriferousdeath
Releases Worldwide: June 26th, 2026

Covenant, me fav.

#morbidangel #deathmetal #nowplaying

🤘

There are few concepts in the Western tradition as misunderstood as that of “the death of God.” It is not a triumphant proclamation, nor a call for apathetic nihilism. What has been coined in recent online discourse as a ‘meaning crisis’ is only barely getting the point. The Loss of Transcendence—some universal, ultimate, mind-independent Truth and set of values—is a beginning, an event that should prompt critical thought and action and confrontation of a human condition that we sedate ourselves out of with belief in a higher power or sense and reason in the universe; hope; or the rescinding of responsibility to the idea that ‘nothing matters.12 The Great Observer seem to have done their homework for the most part, with their debut channeling their thrashy blackened death into a philosophical call to action that blends Existentialism with Stoicism and Epicureanism. Fresh on the scene and immediately going all-in in aggression and storytelling, what can The Great Observer give to us?

On the face of it, Loss of Transcendence is standard black/death/thrash, with a rotating emphasis on each of those three components. Sticking primarily to up-tempo, gritty riffing in a vein somewhere between Necrophobic, Tomb Mold, and Morbid Angel—though a less flashy iteration—The Great Observer do nonetheless find time to linger in some cavernousness that vaguely recalls Disembowelment. They further emphasise their mean streak with a pervasive vocal echo that adds to the grime of the throaty howls and is compounded during the many instances when such vocals are multi-tracked or delivered as a group. But not all of this energy is used in service of evil; there’s a strong anthemic side to these choruses and a jaunty bombast to many a beat. In many ways, it gives off the aura of classical extreme metal—back when Black Metal was an album title, and ugliness, speed, and aggression were the name of the game in a fundamentally different way to how they are now. And yet, under the layers of dirt and behind the malevolence lie small seeds of nuance, and it is to Loss of Transcendence’s great detriment that they remain scattered seeds alone.

Loss of Transcendence flirts with many things—intrigue, atmosphere, tenacity—but never quite wins any of them over. Riffs generally check boxes for pugnacity, but even at their most brutish and slick (“The Great Observer,” “Impervious Creation”), they have no edge, no force. At the worst end, guitar lines are entirely blunt thanks to nondescript, generic-sounding melodies and patterns (“Herald of Thorns,” “How Far the Faithless will Venture”). It’s unfortunate that all of the best guitar sits in the record’s back half, with “Impervious Creation” and “The Weight of Being Free” delivering shimmying, sliding shredding capable of winning over the harshest of critics, and the latter track featuring a genuinely beautiful, buttery smooth solo that combines everything great about grimy yet gorgeous extreme metal. The frequent use of group vocals, which sometimes creates an impressive miasma of harrowing calls (“Impervious Creation,” title track), falls awkwardly flat when delivered as rousing shouts (“Sentenced at High Noon,” “At The Summit of Consciousness,” “The Weight…”) thanks to the latter’s surprising corniness. The Great Observer also experiment in an exasperatingly random manner with distortion, with a liquid, Worm-adjacent effect appearing in random snatches never to develop (“Parénklisis (Fallen Into Existence),” “How Far…,” “The Weight…,” title track); and the worst part is that it’s good! The pace, generally high, is also stymied by not one but two synth-heavy instrumentals as “Parénklisis…” opens the album with a gravitas that never appears again, and “Ékstasis (The Lonesome Path)” needlessly presses pause for two minutes of ambience and whispering.

In reality, Loss of Transcendence feels frustratingly lukewarm. A mix that pushes guitars erratically between the far background and the very forefront, and a baffling decision3 to layer vocal tracks and reverb like lasagna over these riffs (“The Great Observer,” “Sentenced at High Noon,” “The Weight…,” title track) makes what could be decent blackened death sound almost poor. Almost the only time the guitars sound good is when they sound great, soloing in sudden clarity (“Sentenced…,” “Impervious Creation”) and with fluent expressiveness (“The Weight…,”), and these highlights appear exclusively in the second half. Given this, it becomes harder to forgive the swing of strangely upbeat gang shouts (“Sentenced…,” “Herald of Thorns”) and a brusque attitude to riff-writing that tends to shy away from character.

It’s always a shame when a concept I’m particularly interested in is delivered in mediocre form. Loss of Transcendence strikes as an album that would have had heads spinning and Bibles being reached for in the early 90s but now its grit cannot make up for its shortcomings. Failing to develop their best ideas and sidelining their assets far too often, The Great Observer still haven’t seen how to capitalise on their strengths, and Loss of Transcendence loses more than higher values as a result.

Rating: Disappointing
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: BlackSeed Productions
Website: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: April 30th, 2026

Maybe war never changes, but Warside has. Between releasing inaugural EP The Enemy Inside, and recording their debut, three of Warside’s five members left the band. Now a quartet, the Lyon, France collective tromps into the death metal arena, brandishing Cognitive Extinction, their first long play. Down a guitarist, Warside reports Cognitive Extinction as having ‘a rawer, more direct sound.’ Though The Enemy Inside can’t be classified as polished or subtle, Cognitive Extinction embraces an even leaner, meaner aggression through twenty-eight minutes. Additionally, Warside weaves a broad theme into the album—the erosion of intelligence and critical thinking due to the proliferation of screens and dependence on technology. It’s an increasingly relevant theme in these crazy times, but is Warside’s warning enough to keep listeners’ gray matter from atrophying into pudding?

Though simply billed as ‘death metal,’ Warside skews towards the technical end of the spectrum. Dying Fetus, Misery Index, and Vomitory are cited as influences in the promo materials, and while elements of those bands exist on Cognitive Extinction,1 I also hear the frantic immediacy of Benighted and Aborted enmeshed with the tech-heavy grooves of more recent Cryptopsy and Suffocation. Technical without falling into technical death metal territory and bruising without earning a brutal death metal tag, Warside toes the line between extreme metal subgenres without fully committing to any specific one. Rather than wavering or wandering, though, Cognitive Extinction sounds confident, direct, and ready to peel your skull back to get a look at your cognition firsthand.

Despite adding some new members and shuffling guitar duties, Warside launches a savage assault that never relents. Returning from The Enemy Within, guitarist Vincent Morelle resumes six-string duties on Cognitive Extinction while former guitarist Jérôme dons the mantle of bassist. Joining them are duo Mathieu (vocals) and Thô (drums) from deathgrind project Festering Process, and together this foursome unleashes barrage after barrage of merciless death metal thunder. Tracks “Neurocide” and “Invasive Thoughts” meld Morbid Angel’s wicked melodies with Nile’s violent velocity, frequently coaxing involuntary stank-face. “Visceral” punches with Suffocation’s might, windmilling between stutter-stop leads and kick drum cannonades, while “Thirst for Rot” dive bombs into an early solo before hitting a swarthy Cryptopsy-meets-Decapitated groove. Throughout, Mathieu discharges fierce gutturals that remind me of Benighted’s Julien Truchan,2 primal and bloodthirsty without ever going full BREEE. All told, kinetic hooks, furious blast beats, and husky bass grooves carry the momentum of each track, with feverish solos offering brief detours from Warside’s otherwise unyielding onslaught.

Warside evokes death metal titans throughout Cognitive Extinction, yet clinging too tightly to these touchstones prevents them from fully realizing an identity of their own. In fairness, Cognitive Extinction works cohesively, with a consistent aural context that’s as bludgeoning as it is swift. And even though Warside sidesteps critical flaws, hooking an overcrowded niche with deathly wares can be a significant challenge. Genre greats can provide a strong template for writing compelling music, but emulation without innovation risks giving listeners an experience that drives them back to inspirations. Said simply, bands with unique sounds become reference points, while others get buried beneath the sands of time. In this regard, Cognitive Extinction feels like a half measure, where a blend of influences comes together to form a coherent album, yet lacks a wholly original voice.

Standout performances and sharp, economical songwriting distinguish Warside as an act I’ll follow closely, and help achieve a portion of the identity they need. Cognitive Extinction teems with talent and promise, and despite the abysmal dynamic range,3 the mix is well-balanced and allows listeners to appreciate what Warside does within its runtime. I’ve greatly enjoyed my time with Cognitive Extinction, and a couple of its gems have helped add some weight to my Heavy Moves Heavy ’26 playlist, but with so many killer death metal albums out this year, I’m unsure what lasting impact it’ll have. Time will tell, and in the meantime, I hope that Warside continues honing their blades to keep minds and interest sharp.

Rating: Good!
DR: 3 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Gruesome Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: April 17th, 2026

Of all the discouraging and difficult elements contributing to people having appallingly bad taste not being into metal, the biggest sticking point has got to be the vocals. As inoffensive as we might find, for example, vintage Dave Vincent (Morbid Angel) or early Possessed, going all the way back to the genre roots, casual listeners find themselves appalled by what started out as gravely growls and has evolved into full retching and intestinal spew. While desensitization through repeated listens is the obvious solution, some bands solve the problem wholesale by eschewing vocals at all. I’ve been let down lately by some of my favorite genres, and while perusing the almost picked-clean promo pit, my eyes were caught by a bit of a rare tag around these parts: “Instrumental black metal.” Osmium Gate have arrived with a platter devoid of any vocals, a curious name, and some gorgeous artwork to emphasize the atmospheres within. Let’s strap in for a carnivorous adventure!

Cannibal Universe is a melodic release, heavy on atmosphere and beauty filtered through the requisite heavy sheen. Though ostensibly described as black metal, the overall production and tone sidesteps fuzzed-out tropes or crystalline polish with a sound more reminiscent of modern death metal but utilizing black metal composition techniques. This imparts a thicker flavor to the requite snare-and-bass trem heavy riffing (“Booming Dunes”, “Blood Rain”) while adding extra brass knuckles to some atypically chug-heavy movements (“Waters of Natron”). A heavy focus on sustained open chords for big mood and pathos is a major tool in Osmium Gate’s wheelhouse, with slower, emptier sections that feel tailor-made for amphitheater reverb rather than the blistering assault typically found in blackened wares.

Cannibal Galaxy by Osmium Gate

Instrumental music needs to have a dollop of “busyness” to justify the lack of vocals, and at their best Osmium Gate have the chops to get the job done. “Sailing Stone” features a fantastic spot of noodlage where a lead runs interlocked with a separate rhythm for a full and complex emotive experience. Cannibal Universe spots a decent amount of such highlights, where fun leads and overlapping time signatures summon the spirit of Scale the Summit or Plini. Fret not, the occasional thunderous blast or vintage Intervals chug is never far away to remind you that there’s nothing “post” about this album. Title track “Cannibal Universe” throws everything into the kitchen sink, sculpting doom-tempo’d plods into an avalanche of chord progressions which immediately scale back into a dollop of Odious Mortem melody with infinitely better production. But the real climax comes in mid-album cut “Nacreous.” This is the jewel of the album, running a wistful, melancholic lead under blast beats, which are worked in more atmospheric conjuncture with the slow-moving melodies. Such a highlight is an easy contender for song of the year, channeling genuine catharsis and summoning up enough feelings to bring some mist to even Tyme‘s crusty, battle-hardened eyes.

It may be a strange critique given the genre, but the only real stumbling block facing Osmium Gate is that not all the songs warrant an instrumental presentation. There’s no cut across this album that is bad, and much that is quite enjoyable, perfect for stargazing or late-night drives under the moon. But the band’s insistence on using large open chord structures across the album leaves a great deal of unbusy, open space where I found myself instinctively expecting vocal lines to fill the void. These particular cuts (“Waters of Natron”) aren’t definitively poor in any real sense as much as feeling incomplete, with the chord structures telling a partial story and lacking a sense of fullness elsewhere in the album. Bands like Animals As Leaders and their ilk nail the instrumental presentation by ushering the listener from one passage to the next without leaving any space for extra flair, where literally and metaphorically the music does all the talking. Here, Osmium Gate make real effort and grasp the goal more than once, but not consistently across the album. Tellingly, the tracks that throw off such restrictions are the least traditionally black metal sounding, as it’s when the songs sound the most typical that they sound the most unfinished.

Still, I’ve enjoyed my time with Cannibal Universe as a nice detour from my usual brutal and blackened fare. There’s genuine chops and promise here, and you owe it to yourself to at least listen to “Nacreous”. Osmium Gate have offered up a delicious platter of melodic black metal with limitations entirely surmountable. I’m not necessarily encouraging them to go out and get a vocalist (though I have no doubt they’d be capable of making a good album with one), but to push their songwriting to match the highlights here across an entire platter. Nevertheless, this album has moments worthy of note and any lover of instrumental metal should find something worthy of interest to be devoured…

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Self-Release
Websites: Album Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: March 13th 2025

The life of the unpaid, overworked metal reviewer is not an easy one. The reviewing collective at AMG lurches from one new release to the next, errors and n00bs strewn in our wake. But what if, once in a while, the collective paused to take stock and consider the discography of those bands that shaped many a taste? What if multiple aspects of the AMG collective personality shared with the slavering masses their personal rankings of that discography, and what if the rest of the personality used a Google sheet some kind of dark magic to produce an official guide to, and an all-around definitive aggregated ranking of, that band’s entire discography? Well, if that happened, we imagine it would look something like this…

Formed in 1988, Immolation emerged shortly after death metal’s dawn of aggression. Alongside Incantation, Suffocation, and Mortician, Immolation cemented themselves as a cornerstone of New York’s death metal scene in the early 90s. Since then, the band has erected a kingdom of consistency, releasing cut after unholy cut of complex arrangements, unwavering hostility, and anti-religious ruminations about the failures of gods. Key to Immolation’s dependable, high-quality output are mainstays bassist/vocalist Ross Dolan and guitarist Robert Vigna, who have both been with the band since inception. Even Immolation’s other members prove steadfast, with drummer Steve Shalaty searing skins since 2003 and Alex Bouks lending his axe since 2016. Through eleven full-length releases, Immolation has proven that their ability to harness ruin and forge death metal majesty is nigh unparalleled.

With twelfth album Descent arriving soon, staffers old and new clamored to share their opinions on how Immolation’s back catalog stacks up. Unlike rankings mostly prescribed by overwhelming consensus on their highs and lows, Immolation presents a discography with nothing to atone for, providing fertile ground for healthy, well-considered discourse. Without further ado, then, let’s put our ears to the door of a world below and divine these diabolical rankings!

– Grin Reaper

The Rankings

Grin Reaper

In my book, nobody does pure death metal better than Immolation. More consistent than Suffocation and Incantation and more uncompromising than Morbid Angel and Cryptopsy,1 Immolation scoffs at AMG’s Law of Diminishing Recordings™ as they reign atop an unimpeachable discography that lacks a single turd. Seriously. The ‘worst’ album Immolation ever put out still rivals or surpasses the best from most other death metal outfits, and their indomitable march to dismantle the weak and unworthy entrenches them as one of my all-time favorite acts. Jesus wept—Immolation never fucking flinched.

#11. Harnessing Ruin (2005) — Something has to be last, and Harnessing Ruin gets my tap. Songwriting-wise, Immolation drops a strong effort with acerbically grim leads and a rousing introduction to new drummer Steve Shalaty. Guitars supply the album highlights—from the gnarled riffing in “Our Savior Sleeps” and the sludgy sway on “Son of Iniquity” to the scalding solo on “Dead to Me,” Bob Vigna and Bill Taylor sizzle with hell’s fire across Harnessing Ruin. Unfortunately, the album’s production holds it back, and the muffled mix lacks the bite of Unholy Cult. Also, the longest songs cluster at the end, dragging the back half a touch.

#10. Kingdom of Conspiracy (2013) — Kingdom of Conspiracy just ekes ahead of Harnessing Ruin, clocking three minutes briefer despite having one more track. To my ears, Kingdom of Conspiracy features Immolation’s brightest, most modern production. This offers a boon to Dolan’s grating growls and the tormented guitar tandem of Vigna and Taylor, but it also buries the bass and pushes the drums further away from the dead corpse smacks that characterize my favorite Immolation bass drum tones. As one might expect from the bottom end of such an excellent discography, Kingdom of Conspiracy does little wrong, but lacks the heretical heft that defines Immolation’s best material.

#9. Shadows in the Light (2007) — Concluding what I consider Immolation’s middle period, Shadows in the Light chronologically bridges their weakest link, Harnessing Ruin, and powerhouse Nuclear Blast debut, Majesty and Decay. Shadows in the Light drastically improves on Harnessing Ruin’s production, wading out of the former’s forlorn pall and laying down brimstone-tinged bangers like one-two punch “Passion Kill” and “World Agony.” A sense of immediacy pervades Shadows that, while not lacking in the lowest-ranked albums, burns even hotter here, filling its forty minutes with writhing leads and furious drumming that typifies what Immolation does so damned well.

#8. Failures for Gods (1999) — Failures for Gods falling to #8 proves just how potent Immolation’s discography is, as the album would be a crown jewel in countless other discographies. On the surface, Failures for Gods has everything Immolation fans could ask for: punishing grooves, tortured guitars, and vocals that could command the armies of hell. Despite that, Failures for Gods feels like it holds back from the devastating offensive that would launch a year later, instead rehashing rather than progressing what Immolation accomplished on their first two albums. Still, Failures introduced drummer Alex Hernandez, and though his masterstrokes would be heard on Close, songs like “God Made Filth” and “The Devil I Know” heralded the storm to come.

#7. Dawn of Possession (1991) — Pure fucking evil rarely sounds this intoxicating. Steeped in an unpolished production that’s coarse yet clear, Dawn of Possession hooks ears and souls alike, flaying them with its hellish implements. Though it’s Immolation’s most straightforward album, tracks like “Into Everlasting Fire, “Those Left Behind,” and “Immolation” exemplify why suburban mothers clutch their pearls when they happen upon their precious babes listening to death metal. Dawn of Possession was my entry point for Immolation, and it encompasses everything the band offers without guile. I still recommend it for the uninitiated, particularly those who enjoy straight-up OSDM with a side of heresy.

#6. Unholy Cult (2002) — Where Failures for Gods luxuriates in gloomy menace and Close to a World Below reeks of sulfurous damnation, Unholy Cult blurs the line between the two. Starting with a slow build on opener “Of Martyrs and Men,” Unholy Cult careens between ominous drawls and infernal fervor with a substantially improved production over Immolation’s 90s output. “Unholy Cult” remains the second-longest song these death peddlers have penned, and it looms large, rooted in the front half of the album. From there, the tracks rumble and blitz up to closer “Bring Them Down,” a funky barnburner that highlights Dolan’s basswork amidst Immolation’s blazing backdrop.

#5. Majesty and Decay (2010) — Immolation unleashed a juggernaut for their first platter with Nuclear Blast. Blistering, contemplative, and brimming with moldering melody, Majesty and Decay swats with the divine laze of a celestial being, uncoiling at its leisure but devastating in its wrath once roused. Tracks like “A Glorious Epoch” and “The Rapture of Ghosts” toe this line, where beefy chugs pound beneath soaring, anthemic guitars. Meanwhile, the likes of “The Purge” and “A Token of Malice” hit with the force of a thunderclap, unrelenting in their fury. I originally had Majesty and Decay in the same tier as Atonement and Acts of God, but the busy mix and unimaginatively titled “Intro” and “Interlude” hold it back.2

#4. Atonement (2017) — With no song running past the five-minute mark, Atonement exhibits Immolation’s dedication to excising the fat and gristle. Vigna’s crooked leads and crushing riffs mesh perfectly with new guitarist Alex Bouks’ calculated anarchy, and together they synchronize in exquisite harmony. Along with Majesty and Decay, Atonement might be the closest Immolation comes to achieving accessibility. Typically, my favorite straight-up death metal furnishes little room for nuance, and though Immolation doesn’t have a reputation for subtlety, Atonement expertly doles out moments of relief (the end of “When the Jackals Come,” the intro to “Lower”) that almost lull you into safety before the bottom drops out and sends you to hell.

#3. Acts of God (2022) — When I first saw Immolation flaunting fifteen tracks totaling over fifty minutes, I thought their best days were behind them. Bloat is never a good sign, particularly from a band with such a pristine track record. I happily resign to being wrong, though, as Acts of God not only subverted but demolished my expectations. Immolation’s allure lies in the intricacies of their music. Dolan’s patristic admonishment of humanity, Vigna and Bouks’ serpentine noodling, and Shalaty’s tempestuous brutalization of the kit define the band’s sound, yet here the music is more direct and urgent than ever. Rather than missing any beats, Immolation sounds ruinously revitalized.

#2. Here in After (1996) — Though not a significant shift away from Dawn of Possession, Immolation struck nails to gold with Here in After. Compared to later releases, Here in After radiates a few extra degrees of chaos, with deranged soloing that reminds of Slayer’s vision of hell and a slightly more impassioned vocal performance from Dolan. To be clear, his vocals are one of my favorite aspects of Immolation’s sound, and his matter-of-fact, comprehensible gutturals against such malicious metal engenders wonderful drama. The edge to his voice on “Nails to Gold” and “Christ’s Cage” adds a dimension of metaphysical dread that is the chef’s kiss throughout Here in After’s inflamed impiety.

#1. Close to a World Below (2000) — I can’t fathom any other Immolation album topping this blasphemous bonanza than Close to a World Below. Opening with my favorite Immolation track “Higher Coward,” the album bursts forth with an unapologetic eruption of sinuous guitars, vicious growls, and an unyielding onslaught by drummer Alex Hernandez. The drum tones alone deserve a spotlight, but the cataclysmic bombardment of stick on skin violence stops me dead in my tracks anytime one of Close to a World Below’s songs pops up. Immolation distills the essence of what worked so well on previous albums and folds those layers into a perfect performance across eight insidiously immaculate tracks. “Father, You’re Not a Father,” “Unpardonable Sin,” and the closing title track resonate with especially inspired performances, but the entirety of Close to a World Below boils over with the most unhinged and malignant performance of Immolation’s career. Being damned never sounded so Iconic.

Lavender Larcenist

#11. Harnessing Ruin (2005) — Immolation does not have a bad album, but Harnessing Ruin feels like a band chugging along in a bit of an in-between space. The production is muddled here, especially after Unholy Cult and Close to a World Below, but “Our Savior Sleeps” still retains that Immolation heft while “At Mourning’s Twilight” is an inspired closer with an incredible solo at the midpoint. Harnessing Ruin would be the best album of many other bands’ careers, but it is only a lower-tier album for a band as storied as Immolation.

#10. Shadows in the Light (2007) — Shadows in the Light follows Harnessing Ruin in terms of feeling like a band spinning its wheels (as much as a band as talented as Immolation can). Even then, “Passion Kill” is a classic Immolation track with an incredible breakdown that will make a fan out of any listener. “World Agony” follows with a dissonant wailing riff backing as it drops headfirst into a rolling bulldozer of a track. Unfortunately, there isn’t much else to Shadows in the Light that helps it stand out amongst the rest of Immolation’s discography, but it still makes for a solid death metal record with some memorable tracks that have stood the test of time.

#9. Failures for Gods (1999) — Failures for Gods is a solid album that is no slouch in the songwriting department, but it is marred by some truly busted production. Everything feels muddy, oddly loud, and compressed at the same time. “No Jesus, No Beast” is a monster, and the title track features that classic evil tone that becomes so apparent in late-stage Immolation, but the production handicaps this album at every turn. Great songwriting goes a long way, but in a race this tight, poor production brings Failures for Gods low.

#8. Kingdom of Conspiracy (2013) — Kingdom of Conspiracy shaves off a bit of Majesty and Decay’s technicality to its detriment. It is the closest Immolation has come to creating an album that is more groove than tech. As a result, it is probably one of their more approachable records, but it is the weakest of their current era. “Keep the Silence” is a monster of a track, and Kingdom has more than enough material to make it worth a listen. I think this is an album more fans should revisit, and newbies should start with, because it is hooky, heavy, and groovy in ways that will tickle your evil organ.

#7. Dawn of Possession (1991) — Dawn of Possession is an incredible debut from a band that is clearly young and ready to fuck the world up. Robert Vigna’s trademark style is immediately apparent, and Immolation’s blend of groove, dizzying technicality, and evil vibes is on display out of the gate. Craig Smilowski’s drumming is absurd in its rhythm and technical flourishes, but the album lacks the atmosphere that Immolation became famous for later in their career. Dawn of Possession is a fantastic debut that is only brought down by the extent to which its tracks bleed together. Something Immolation struggles with throughout their career.

#6. Here in After (1996) — Here in After sees the band refine their skills and write tighter songs that hit harder while adding just a little dash of that trademark Immolation vibe. The groove is starting to creep in, and tracks like “Christ’s Cage” showcase the band playing with the truly evil tone that pervades their most recent work. Album opener “Nailed to Gold” is a classic for the band, and Here in After is a quintessential Immolation album. Ross Dolan’s vocals have switched from Dawn’s nastier tone to his trademark bellow, and Vigna’s pirouetting shredwork is here to stay. Here in After is Immolation in classic form.

#5. Close to a World Below (2000) — Opening with “Higher Coward”, Close to a World Below starts on a high note and never stops delivering. The production foibles of Failures are ironed out, and Immolation sounds like a band ready to bulldoze society. “Unpardonable Sin” is as heavy as it is frantic with its switches back and forth between dissonant groove and face-melting speed. “Lost Passion” crescendos into trademark Immolation wankery in the best way, but Close to a World Below still suffers from some odd production. Dolan’s vocals feel slightly different track to track, but this is an album with some of Immolation’s best songs to date.

#4. Unholy Cult (2002) — Something about Unholy Cult just clicks for me. “Of Martyrs and Men” is that pure, wonderful, evil shit. After an explosive intro, the track moves into one of Immolation’s most crushing riffs. The title track is a slice of hell in a way the band hasn’t played with since “Christ’s Cage”, an eight-minute epic that is as catchy as it is devastating. Vigna flips from this vibrato-tremolo guitar riff right into an all-out assault and back to massive Immolation grooves without a hitch. Unholy Cult is stuffed with great tracks and feels like a first step towards the second half of Immolation’s career, where atmosphere and groove hold more sway over pure technicality.

#3. Majesty and Decay (2010) — Majesty and Decay is where modern Immolation comes into full form. Part truly diabolical atmosphere, part neutron star heavy, all technical and groovy as hell. “Intro” gives listeners a glimpse into the band’s future. “A Glorious Epoch” has one of the best riffs, basically ever, making for a track that gets my blood boiling without fail. “A Token of Malice” is astounding in its technicality while being a freight train of destruction with Vigna riding shotgun. Majesty and Decay is also the best Immolation has sounded up to this point, where the production finally feels consistent, clear, and absolutely brutal.

#2. Atonement (2017) — Likely an album that will grace the top tier on every list, Atonement feels like the quintessential Immolation album. If I were to introduce the band to anyone, I would probably start here. “When the Jackals Come” is one of the band’s best tracks, and “Lower” is just astounding in how brutal Immolation still is decades later. It also keeps things at a slim and trim forty-four minutes, and album closer “Epiphany” puts a perfect bow on this devil baby. There isn’t a track worth skipping on Atonement, a feat made all the more impressive when it is a band ten albums into their career.

#1. Acts of God (2022) — Where do I start with Acts of God? To me, it is the perfect combination of creativity, groove, technicality, and that evil Immolation sound we have come to know and cherish. As one of Immolation’s longest albums, you would think the well has run dry, but the intro “Abandoned” and interlude “And The Flames Wept” add so much cohesion to the album and drape the entire affair in a veil of depravity. Acts of God features some of Immolation’s biggest and baddest riffs, while also pushing their atmosphere to new heights. Their most evil album, their most creative, and maybe even their heaviest. “Noose of Thorns” is led by a diabolical descending riff that drops into high-pitched tapping that sets the tone so well you can’t help but feel pulled by hell’s destructive currents. “Immoral Stain” is dripping with malice; you can hear it seep into every riff and lyric. “Let the Darkness In” features a bouncing, infectious groove that immediately flips into Vigna’s trademark dissonant wails. Acts of God is Immolation’s magnum opus in every sense, and somehow my favorite album by a band that feels like they can do no wrong.

Mark Z.

Immolation feel like old friends. I discovered them early in my extreme metal journey and was immediately captivated by Bob Vigna’s unconventional riffing style and Ross Dolan’s commanding (and surprisingly comprehensible) growl. No matter what’s happened in the metal scene, it’s always been comforting to know that Immolation have been there, touring relentlessly while consistently delivering their trademark brand of dissonant death metal and never releasing a true dud. In the world of old school death metal, they’re the one band I could always count on. Because of that, they’ll always have a special place in my ever-blackening heart.

#11. Shadows in the Light (2007) — Not a bad album, just a relatively bland one. While there are some inspired ideas, most of the tracks have little of the dark atmosphere or interesting songwriting found on their earlier material. Nonetheless, it’s a testament to Immolation’s quality that even their worst album still has stuff as good as the lumbering grooves of “Passion Kill” or the growl-along catchiness of “World Agony,” which is one of the group’s best songs.

#10. Harnessing Ruin (2005) — Arguably Immolation’s most accessible album, Harnessing Ruin shows them trying to find their place in the mid-2000s death metal scene by writing some more direct songs than usual. Just like with Shadows in the Light, however, this album sags in its back half and lacks the darkness or quality of the first few records. There’s good stuff here, but this record also feels bleak and oddly dated, possibly due to the generic mid-2000s artwork, plain production job, or the misguided use of whispered vocals in “Dead to Me” and “Son of Iniquity.”

#9. Kingdom of Conspiracy (2013) — The fucking drums, man. The drum sound here is borderline overbearing, and given that this record is already pretty fast, the overall experience is a relentless and punishing one that largely crushes nuance beneath the heel of its boot. Fortunately, the riffing is still strong, and the album’s generally fast nature makes the slower, commanding marches of “Keep the Silence” and “All That Awaits Us” hit all the harder.

#8. Majesty and Decay (2010) — After a relatively lackluster era in the mid-2000s, Immolation signed to Nuclear Blast and seemed hell-bent on redemption with Majesty and Decay. Compared to its immediate predecessors, this record has an improved production job, more dynamic songwriting, and a better sense of structure (with the band employing an intro track and interlude for the first time). While the title track’s Gateways to Annihilation vibes make it one of the band’s best slower songs, the album as a whole would be better if some of the weaker tracks were shaved off and a few others were tightened up a bit.

#7. Acts of God (2022) — This is a very good album with two main issues: It’s too long, and it has the misfortune of having to follow up Atonement. Not even an Immolation album needs to be 52 minutes long, and compared to its predecessor, the production is stuffier and the songs aren’t as strong. As a whole, however, this is still a blasphemous good time that maintains a consistently high level of quality throughout, with “The Age of No Light” and “Overtures of the Wicked” being especially powerful cuts.

#6. Unholy Cult (2002) — Immolation’s fifth album represents a bridge between the apocalyptic malevolence of their early material and the polished hostility of their later work. It’s also potentially their most vicious and chaotic release, with the opening track “Of Martyrs and Men” even featuring some borderline-mathcore riffs. While at times tough to untangle, Unholy Cult ultimately succeeds as a 41-minute shrapnel blast of ideas that somehow combines the epic and the violent into an utterly compelling whole.

#5. Failures for Gods (1999) — The start of Immolation’s long partnership with producer Paul Orofino, Failures for Gods is held back a bit by his lack of prior experience with death metal, with the bass drums sounding like bouncing basketballs. Stylistically and structurally, however, this is essentially Here in After Part II, with twisted and brooding compositions that vary between being grandiose and cutthroat. While a bit front-loaded, Failures is still a brilliant record. In a just world, “No Jesus, No Beast” would be the closer at every Immolation show.

#4. Dawn of Possession (1991) — Immolation’s debut essentially gave their death-thrash demo tracks a murkier production job and placed them alongside newer songs that would hint at the band’s dissonance to come. As such, Dawn of Possession is the most traditional death metal album in the band’s catalog while also being one of the most distinct and stylistically diverse. While Bob Vigna would only improve as a songwriter from here, Dawn’s numerous classic tracks and otherworldly sense of blasphemy make it easy to love, warts and all.

#3. Atonement (2017) — How the fuck is this album so good? Late-career albums aren’t supposed to be this good, but this is the rare lightning-strike release where everything hits just right: the production, the songwriting, the performances, and even the cover art (which marks the return of the band’s classic logo). It’s like they found a way to increase the quality of everything while sacrificing nothing, resulting in a record that’s powerful yet understated, hooky yet stuffed with riffs, and listenable yet extreme. It may be slightly front-loaded, but it’s still one of my favorite death metal albums of the 2010s.

#2. Here in After (1996) — Arriving five years after their debut, Here in After shows Immolation truly coming into their own, with Bob Vigna’s dark, dissonant arrangements and Ross Dolan’s menacing, intelligible growl both emerging in full force. The improved songwriting is apparent right from the flawless opener, “Nailed to Gold,” which could be one of the Top 10 death metal songs ever. While the twisted structures that follow are less immediately accessible, it all eventually coalesces into a masterfully crafted whole, demonstrating a keen sense of flow and diversity while exuding a timeless, unheavenly darkness that only Immolation could conjure.

#1. Close to a World Below (2000) — There are certain albums so good that they transcend not only their own band’s discography, but also the rest of their genre. Close to a World Below is one of those albums. Never before or since has an album sounded so much like being in hell, with a suffocating and merciless production job that somehow still allows every note to be heard in all its unholy glory. Drummer Alex Hernandez delivers a once-in-a-career performance that sounds like he’s bashing every part of his kit at once, and Bob Vigna somehow manages to write his catchiest material while still delivering riffs more warped than ever. The record also has one of the best openings of all time, with a sullen voice asking, “Didn’t you say. . . Jesus was coming?” before a blasting onslaught tramples any hope of ever making it to heaven. Fukk it, send me below!

Spicie Forrest

Having begun my metal journey in nü territory, there are holes in my metallic knowledge you could drive a commercial truck through.3 While Immolation has long been a name vaguely known to me, it wasn’t until Atonement that I actually heard any of their music. So, when the call for a ranking came in, I saw an excellent opportunity to dive deeply into a storied discography and see what I’ve been missing.

#11. Harnessing Ruin (2005) — While comparably unremarkable, even the bottom end of this list is still good. The truth is, Immolation has never put out a bad album. With such a consistent base quality, placing albums in a numbered order became a game of sudden death. The nail in the coffin for Harnessing Ruin? The whispering vocals on “Dead to Me” and “Son of Iniquity.”

#10 Unholy Cult (2002) — How the hell do you follow up Close to a World Below? By comparison—and even in isolation—Unholy Cult feels lackluster and unremarkable. I’d likely still recognize most of this as Immolation in a playlist, and it’s still very solid death metal by any measure, but there’s precious little here that demands my attention or elevates it above background music. Additionally, pacing shifts, as on “Reluctant Messiah” and “Bring Them Down,” make it difficult to find a groove or flow through the album.

#9 Failures for Gods (1999) — The first three albums Immolation released are all, more or less, of a piece. Failures for Gods maintains much of the quality from earlier releases, from the searing, whiplash solo work and deep riffage of “No Jesus, No Beast” and “Failures for Gods” to the brooding, intimidating tone of “The Devil I Know.” There’s a bit of staleness that creeps into Failures for Gods, though. Aside from some odd, Spanish-inflected acoustic riffing on the title track, not much here stands out from their earlier work or in retrospect.

#8 Shadows in the Light (2007) — Immolation’s output through the mid-00s is, for me, their least engaging, but Shadows in the Light sees them begin to turn things around toward the high quality they’d been known for in the early years. The percussion on Shadows in the Light caught me by surprise, reminding me mightily of Slipknot’s self-titled. Steve Shalaty’s kit work feels alive and visceral, just itching to incite a riot. This holds especially true on “Passion Kill” and “Breathing the Dark.”

#7 Kingdom of Conspiracy (2013) — Kingdom of Conspiracy is an odd duck in Immolation’s discography. This 2013 release has proven divisive not only for its shift in theme,4 but for its notably clean production, as well. While I do appreciate the clarity and snappiness, it is a tad sterile. Ross Dolan’s vocals are hurt the most by this, making him sound toothless and tired. Highlights like “All That Awaits Us” and “God Complex” still hit hard, but as a whole, Kingdom of Conspiracy just doesn’t have the searing identity of records higher on this list.

#6 Here in After (1996) — Being the sophomore album is a tough break. The pressure’s on, expectations are high. Here in After largely holds the line and even improves on the debut in some ways—the title track and “Christ’s Cage” are absolute powerhouses, wielding the weight of worlds like feathers. That said, Here in After does not feel as compositionally tight or structurally sound as Dawn of Possession. Additionally, much of the solo work feels jarring and a skosh too chaotic for my sensibilities, especially on “Nailed to Gold” and “Burn with Jesus.”

#5 Majesty and Decay (2010) — A continuation of the upward shift in quality from Shadows in the Light, Majesty and Decay sees Immolation beginning to explore the more tempered, measured sound so prevalent in their contemporary output. Some tracks, like “A Thunderous Consequence” and “Power and Shame,” fall flat in their attempts to create atmosphere, but “Divine Code” and “A Glorious Epoch” show exactly how menacing and powerful Immolation can be and truly embody the title of the album.

#4 Dawn of Possession (1991) — This served as the standard by which all else was measured. Apocalyptic and vicious, Immolation’s debut was a revelation. There’s a ferocity on Dawn of Possession that only a young band eager to share their vision can produce. And in so doing, Immolation marred the tapestry forever. Injecting their relentless assault with streaks of virtuosity, Dawn of Possession became the bar not only for the band, but for thousands of inspired musicians in the decades since. Immolation has tweaked and tempered their blueprint in the 35 years since, but the core has always remained.

#3 Acts of God (2022) — I’m normally not a fan of intros, but “Abandoned” sets the stage perfectly for the brutal and utterly savage cudgeling to come. Fully returning to the unchecked hatred for Christians and their gods, Acts of God is contemptuous and caustic in way that hasn’t been heard since Close to a World Below. Most impressive here is Immolation’s success in merging the pomp and circumstance of their modern output with the rage of their early work. While not strictly their best release, Acts of God is a quintessential work, defining the true identity of Immolation.

#2 Close to a World Below (2000) — Already known for their malicious, uncompromising sound, Immolation cranks all the dials to eleven on Close to a World Below. It’s seething, it’s virulent, it’s fucking hostile. If this masterpiece ever lets up, it’s only to parade and mock the mangled corpse of Christ before grabbing a bigger hammer. Every second of this album drips with scorn, from the indictment of “Father, You’re Not a Father,” to the blasphemy of “Unpardonable Sin.” I get chills at the start of “Higher Coward” every fucking time, and they don’t go away until long after “Close to a World Below” fades out.

#1 Atonement (2017) — The first Immolation album I ever heard, Atonement still remains untouched. The imperial confidence and contempt—the sheer power—left me speechless, and I still return to it, nearly ten years later. Atonement is more atmospheric than much of their other work, but the result is a heretofore unknown level of weight and heft, no doubt aided by its more vibrant and textured production. Like the change in the air before a coming storm, Atonement feels like a harbinger of ruin, and at times like the disaster itself. Barns burn on tracks like “Destructive Currents” and “Rise the Heretics,” but Immolation truly shines in patient malevolence. Highlights like “When the Jackals Come,” “Thrown to the Fire,” and “Lower” are in no rush to grind your bones to paste. Atonement is the full realization of what was hinted on Majesty and Decay, and it is breathtaking to behold.

Angry Metal Guy Staff Ranking

Thanks to the dark magic of profane arithmetic, we present the aggregate staff ranking below:

1. 1. Harnessing Ruin (2005)
   2. Shadows in the Light (2007)
   3. Kingdom of Conspiracy (2013)
   4. Failures for Gods (1999)
   5. Unholy Cult (2002)
   6. Dawn of Possession (1991)
   7. Majesty and Decay (2010)
   8. Here in After (1996)
   9. Acts of God (2022)
   10. Atonement (2017)
   11. Close to a World Below (2000)

For any ignorant, curious, or non-practicing heathens out there that need to bathe in the everlasting fire, look no further than AMG’s Immolation primer:



Let’s have fun !

MORBID ANGEL - Illvd Divinum... EVERY SONGS PLAYED AT THE SAME TIME!

The 11 songs of Illud Divinum Insanus played at the same time.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nF2wSElespI

#metal #deathmetal #morbidangel #industrial #noise

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