#morbidangel — Public Fediverse posts

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

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

Kenstrosity’s Thrashed Thrall

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

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

ClarkKent’s Prehistoric Pulls

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

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

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

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

Grin Reaper’s Spring Fling

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

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

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

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

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

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

Spicie Forrest’s Nostalgic Nugget

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

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

Arise from Worms – A Bleeding Tree Hanging Self Destruction Review

If unrepentant guitar shredding gets your juices flowi…
#NewsBeep #News #Music #2.5 #2026 #ABleedingTreeHangingSelfDestruction #AmericanMetal #Annihilator #ArisefromWorms #ChurchRoadRecords #Cryptopsy #DragonForce #DreamTheater #Entertainment #FrenchMetal #Incantation #InternationalMetal #Jul26 #MorbidAngel #Necrophagist #review #Reviews #technicaldeathmetal #UK #UnitedKingdom #YngwieMalmsteen
https://www.newsbeep.com/uk/680502/

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

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

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

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

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

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:



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:



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:



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:



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:



AMG’s Unsigned Band Rodeö: Acrid Rot – Where Flesh Transcends… Man Stands Tall

By Killjoy

“AMG’s Unsigned Band Rodeö” is a time-honored tradition to showcase the most underground of the underground—the unsigned and unpromoted. This collective review treatment continues to exist to unite our writers in boot or bolster of the bands who remind us that, for better or worse, the metal underground exists as an important part of the global metal scene. The Rodeö rides on.”

Surprise! You probably noticed that I am not, in fact, Dolph. Welcome to a special edition of the Unsigned Band Rodeö exclusively featuring all five members of the Freezer Crew.1 Originally admitted as part of the 2021 casting call, our n00b class was summarily put on ice for a few years until management remembered us the Internet was ready to receive our correct opinions. Due to these unorthodox circumstances, we of the Crew are firm believers in the “better late than never” philosophy. This proved fortunate for the death/doom/sludge group Acrid Rot, who sent us their debut album Where Flesh Transcends… Man Stands Tall on the very day of its release. Normally, this is a good way to not get a review, but in this case they get five! Without further ado, let’s examine how well this young spitfire band from Pennsylvania capitalizes on the second chance they’ve been given. – Killjoy

Acrid Rot // Where Flesh Transcends… Man Stands Tall [July 21st, 2025]

Alekhines Gun: ”Wiser, Older, Still Hates Sludge” is one of our many banner themes in these hallowed halls. And yet, for every subgenre we hate2 there comes such a well-constructed illustration of the idea that it defies the sn00tiness of even such “above it all” outfits as us, The Freezer Crew. Acrid Rot classify themselves as doom/death/sludge, and while there isn’t really all that much doom, there’s definitely some well-crafted sludgy death. Where Flesh Transcends… is a moody beast, littered in modern The Acacia Strain gloom and an approach to emotive riff-craft adjacent to Terminal Nation and Fuming Mouth. “Where Fangs Supplant Teeth” is as clear of an album mission statement as any, with a chug-centric, lead-slathered construction seemingly showing the whole album’s hand. And yet, the deeper you go, the more Acrid Rot unfurl tendrils in other directions, with “The Torment of Mending” recalling the years of metalcore before that was a dirty word. Surprisingly, acoustic interludes (“A Night Upon the Mire”, “Blood Upon the Cabin Floor”) don’t come across as filler, instead adding more to the mood pervasive through the album in a vein similar to Morbid Angel’s “Desolate Ways.” Some switched-up track sequencing might help Where Flesh Transcends…feel less like an album with two sides (particularly the back half featuring cleans which, while not bad, definitely sound dated and out of place). Otherwise, Acrid Rot have dropped a debut to redeem the honor of deathly sludge in these halls and is worthy of your time. 3.5/5.0

Killjoy: Acrid Rot’s identity seems to be in a constant state of flux, even for a new band. Where Flesh Transcends… Man Stands Tall initially struck me as a post-ier Warcrab, ricocheting between death, doom, sludge, and post metal with reckless abandon. The common denominator is lots of grimy yet groovy riffs which, when coupled with Matt Weisberg’s venomous growls yields a pleasurably abrasive result. Acrid Rot makes a positive first impression with opener “Where Fangs Supplant Teeth,” successfully navigating nearly 8 minutes with a feral statement of intent before transitioning to a crushing doom section midway through. There are still some good times to follow, but after this point the pacing becomes choppy and a bit puzzling at times. “To Wallow in Infirmity” is a coarse death metal-leaning track with a slightly underdeveloped outro. “Desidarium” and “The Torment of Mending” both mine similar veins of weighty death-doom, the latter experimenting with clean vocals to middling effect. The two acoustic guitar-picked interludes, “A Night Upon the Mire” and “Blood Upon the Cabin Floor,” don’t add a whole lot, and just one (or none) of them would have sufficed. Where Flesh Transcends… Man Stands Tall is worthy of at least a few spins but the overall quality isn’t quite consistent enough to have much staying power for me. 2.5/5.0

Owlswald: Formed in 2022, Pennsylvania-based death/sludge quintet Acrid Rot is a young band and it shows on their debut album, Where Flesh Transcends…Man Stands Tall. Although the record shows glimmers of potential, its consistency and execution are frustratingly uneven. Acrid Rot is at its best when the group finds its focus. Tracks like “Desidarium” and the title track are highlights, featuring tight arrangements, quality songwriting and potent, hooky Edge of Sanity-esque riffing that hint at a promising future once the fivesome fully hones its voice. Unfortunately, these standout moments are too few and far between and, as a whole, the album feels more like a rough draft than a final product. While the riffs and vocals lay a raw, powerful foundation, the drumming holds back the songwriting. It feels loose and lacks the precision and energy needed on tracks like “Salvation’s Pointed Knife,” “To Wallow in Infinity” and “The Torment of Meaning.” Other songs, like “Where Fangs Supplant Teeth” and “The Weight of Impermanence,” overstay their welcome without offering enough originality, leaning on repetitive riffs and breakdowns that occasionally stray into generic groove and nu-metal territory. In the end, Where Flesh Transcends…Man Stands Tall is a disappointing effort that lacks the polish and creativity for lasting appeal, leaving me to hope that this debut is a mere stepping stone for Acrid Rot and not a sign of what’s to come. Disappointing.

Thyme: Come now, all ye listeners of other things, and prepare to have thy face stanked and thy neck destroyed via vigorous whipped lashings. Pennsylvania’s new sludge act, Acrid Rot, dropped their big ugly Crowbar of a debut album, Where Flesh Transcends…Man Stands Tall in July. Flush with enough fat, meaty riffs to keep even the snobbiest of sludge-esieurs satiated, there’s tons o’ melody in them thar hills as well (“Where Fangs Supplant Teeth,” “The Weight of Impermanence”). Once the two-man project of multi-instrumentalist Dax Giglio and vocalist Matt Weisberg, Acrid Rot has expanded into a full-fledged five-piece with enough chops to suggest a group that has been together for way longer. My nod to Crowbar stands as the best comparison, as Acrid Rot execute perfectly on the template that those Nola-ns established with ’91’s Obedience Through Suffering. Weisberg matches Kirk Windstein blow for blow, his gruff, sludgy grunts and gravelly tones (“The Torment of Mending”) a dead ringer for Crowbar’s front man, but with the ace of some absolutely guttural, deathly growls up his sleeve (“Desidarium”) to slide out and win the hand. Where Flesh Transcends…Man Stands Tall is one monstrous riff-fest of a debut, and aside from a couple of much-needed acoustic interludes that I enjoyed as well, there wasn’t a moment of this forty-three-minute monster that didn’t have me testing the boundaries of my cervical spine. Why Acrid Rot aren’t signed yet is a mystery, but I’ll guarantee you they won’t stay unsigned for long. 3.5/5.0

ClarkKent: That stench pervading Pennsylvania is none other than Acrid Rot, a group of young upstarts unleashing their debut album on the unwitting masses. Where Flesh Transcends… contains a set of rancid sludge that seamlessly alternates between the creep of doom to more up-tempo death metal. The musicians have a restrained discipline in their approach to the music, allowing ideas to fester develop organically without feeling overlong. It helps that the riffs are a cut above average, and there’s a fair amount of variety. Speaking of variety, vocalist Matt Weisberg is all over the place, and I don’t mean that in a bad way. He alternates between punky shouts and powerful doom growls, but he also manages to surprise with some old school Beastie Boys-like yells (“To Wallow in Infinity”) and slam gurgles (“Where Flesh Transcends…Man Stands Tall”). This variety helps prevent the record from growing stale. With a DR 9, Where Flesh Transcends… is well-produced and sounds appropriately putrid, but for something that leans doom I found the drums to be a bit on the weak side. The compositions are the work of mature musicians—a little more bite to the instruments would have elevated the whole package. Nonetheless, Acrid Rot prove themselves a promising new face in the sludge scene. 3.0/5.0

#2025 #AcridRot #AmericanMetal #AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo #AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo2025 #BeastieBoys #Crowbar #DeathMetal #DoomMetal #EdgeOfSanity #FumingMouth #Jul25 #MorbidAngel #Review #Reviews #SelfRelease #SludgeMetal #TerminalNation #TheAcaciaStrain #Warcrab #WhereFleshTranscendsManStandsTall

Stuck in the Filter: August and September 2024

By Kenstrosity

I am a stubborn bitch. I work my underlings hard, and I won’t let up until they dig up shiny goodies for me to share with the general public. Share might be a generous term. Foist upon is probably more accurate…

In any case, despite some pretty intense setbacks on my end, I still managed to collect enough material for a two-month spread. HUZZAH! REJOICE! Now get the hell away from me and listen to some of our very cool and good tunes.

Kenstrosity’s Turgid Truncheons

Tenue // Arcos, bóvedas, pórticos [August 1st, 2024 – Self-Release]

Spanish post-black/crust/screamo quartet Tenue earned my favor with their debut record, Anábasis, back in 2018. Equal parts vicious, introspective, and strangely uplifting, that record changed what I thought I could expect from anything bearing the screamo tag. By integrating ascendant black metal tremolos within post-punk structures and crusty attitude, Tenue established a sound that not only opened horizons for me taste-wise but also brought me a great deal of emotional catharsis on its own merit. Follow-up Arcos, bóvedas, pórticos deepens that relationship. Utilizing a wider atmospheric palette (“Distracción”), a shift towards epic song lengths (“Inquietude, and a greater variety of instrumentation (observe the beautiful horns on long-form opener “Inquietude”), and a bluesier swagger than previous material exhibited (“Letargo”), Tenue’s second salvo showcases a musical versatility I wasn’t expecting to complement the bleeding-heart emotional depth I knew would return. This expansion of scale and skillset sets the record apart from almost anything else I’ve heard this year. Even though one or two moments struggle to stick long-term (“Enfoque”), Arcos, bóvedas, pórticos represents an affecting, creative, and ridiculously engaging addition to my listening schedule. And for the low low price of NYP, it ought to be a part of yours as well.

Open Flesh Wound // Vile Putrefaction [August 28th, 2024 – Inherited Suffering Records]

Thicc, muggy slam with a million pick scrapes. Who could ask for anything more? Not I, and so it is with great pleasure that I introduce to my AMG fam Pennsylvania’s very own Open Flesh Wound and their debut LP Vile Putrefaction. Essentially the result of Analepsy’s and Devourment‘s carnal lovemaking, Vile Putrefaction is a nasty, slammy, brutal expulsion of chunky upchuck. Only those with the most caved-in craniums will appreciate the scraping swamp-ass riffs showcased on such slammers as “Smashed in Liquids” and “Cinder Block to the Forehead,” or the groove-laden thuggery of death-focused tracks like the title track, “Fermented Intestinal Blockage” and “Body Baggie.” Vile Putrefaction’s molasses-like production is an absolute boon to this sound as well, with just enough gloss to provide a deliciously moist texture which imparts an unlikely clarity to especially gruesome details in “Stoma Necrosis” and “Skin Like Jelly.” It’s dumb as hell, and isn’t doing anything new, but is an overdose of good, dirty fun. Simple as.

The Flaying // Ni dieu, ni ma​î​tre [September 5th, 2024 – Self Release]

I’ve been singing Canadian melodic death metal quartet The Flaying’s praises for almost six years now. And still to this day not enough people choose to sing with me. Why? Because they wouldn’t know sickeningly fun death metal if it hacked their faces right off. That’s okay, because The Flaying do hack faces right off regardless, and it feels so good to watch the faces of those who don’t heed my call get hacked right off. Third onslaught Ni dieu, ni ma​î​tre proves that once again, The Flaying are an unstoppable force of bass wizardry, riff mastery, and hook-laden songwriting. Opener “Le nécrologiste” perfectly encapsulates The Flaying’s particularly addicting brew of Cannibal Corpse, The Black Dahlia Murder, and De Profundis influences, shaken and stirred until the resulting cocktail blooms with a flavor all its own. Technical and brutally fast, follow-up track “L’enclave” continues the deadly rampage, featuring noodly bass lines guaranteed to elicit stank face in the even most prim and proper elite. A trim twenty nine minutes, spread over ten tightly trained tracks, Ni dieu, ni ma​î​tre boasts unbeatable replay value. Highlights “Ni dieu, ni ma​î​tre,” “Les Frondes” “La forge,” and “Noyau sombre” seal the deal by providing sharp hard points and memorable landmarks to which any listener would look forward. Simply put, this record rocks my socks and further proves that I am right about The Flaying, and those who ignore my recommendation are wrong.

Dolphin Whisperer’s All-Seeing Affirmations

Eye Eater // Alienate [August 1st, 2024 – Self Release]

In a post-Ulcerate world, the modern output of atmosphere-minded death metal has grown exponentially. With ringing dissonant chords and slow post-informed builds taking center stage, bands like New Zealand’s unheralded Eye Eater borrow plenty from the Destroyers of All sound. However, while many acts would be content to dial in the space or ramp up the dissonance to try and put their own twist on this growing post-death movement, Eye Eater looks to the laser-precise melodic tones of progressive, core-borrowing names like Fallujah and Vildhjarta to carve an identity into each of Alienate’s album eight sprawling tracks. Swinging sustained brightness in one hand about the grizzly chug-crush of the other, burly bangers like “Other Planets” and “Failure Artifacts” find churning, djentrified grooves that amplify the swell of the blaring melodies that swirl above the low-end clamor. And though the main refrains of “Alienate” and “Everything You Fear and Hope For” sound like loving odes to their Kiwi Forebears, the growth into sonorous and lush-chorded peaks lands much closer to the attraction of turn of the 10s progressive death/metalcore luminaries The Contortionist had they stayed closer to their heavy-toned, hefty-voiced roots. As an anonymous act with little social presence, it’s hard to say whether Eye Eater has more cooking for the future. With their ears tuned to the recent past for inspiration, it’s easy to see how a band with this kind of melodic immediacy—still wrapped in the weight of a brooding, death metal identity—could easily play for the tops of underground charts. To those who have been following the twists and turns of both underground and accessible over the past decade or so, Eye Eater may not sound entirely novel. But Alienate’s familiarity in presence against its quality of execution and fullness of sound makes it easy to ensnare all the same.

Dissolve // Polymorphic Ways of Unconsciousness [September 20th, 2024 – Self Release]

From the sand-blasted, monochrome human escaping the floor of Polymorphic Ways’ cover to the tags of technical, progressive, death that adorn the Bandcamp tags, it’s easy to put a band like Dissolve in a box, mentally. But with the first bent guitar run that sets off “Efficiency Defiled” in a run like Judas Priest more than Spawn of Possession, it’s clear that Dissolve plays by a different set of rules than your average chug and run tech death band. Yet true to their French nature, the riffs that litter Polymorphic Ways of Unconsciousness possess a tangible groove following the footsteps of lesser-known tricksters Trepalium and Olympic titans of metal Gojira (“The Great Pessimistic,”1 “Polymorphic Ways of Unconsciousness,” “Vultures”). And while too Dissolve finds a base in the low-end trem assault of Morbid Angel (“Ignorance Will Prevail”), there’s a thrash and bark energy at play that nets a rambunctious and experimental sound recalling the warped Hetfield-ian (Metallica) scrawl of Destroy Erase Improve Meshuggah, right down to the monstrous bass tone that defines Sonny Bellonie’s (Sanctuary, ODC) growling, extended range performance. As a trio it’d be easy for guitarist Briac Turquety (Smerter, ex-Sideburn) to rely on overdubs for saturation of sound and complexity of layers—and for solo cut-ins he definitely does—but equally as often his choice to let certain chords and notes escape a thrashy muting to ring in distorted harmony against snaking bass lines. And speaking of solos, Turquety’s prowess ranges from bluesy shred (“The Great Pessimistic,” “Ropes of Madness”) to noisy, jazzy explorations (“Polymorphic…,” “Shattered Minds of Evolution”) to Satriani on Slayer whammy abuse (“Bonfire of the Vanities”)—a true treat to lovers of tasteful shred. Turquety, Bellonie, and Quentin Feron (on drums, also of Smerter) sound as if they’ve been playing together for much longer than the year that Dissolve has existed. With a debut this polished, it’s anyone’s guess as to what kind of monster will emerge from the talent that appears so effortless in assembly.

Obsidian Mantra // As We All Will [September 27th, 2024 – Self Release]

Sometimes, a tangled and foreboding cover sits as the biggest draw amongst a crowd of death metal albums alight with splattered zombie remains, illegible logos, and alarm-colored palettes. And in the case of Obsidian Mantra, it doesn’t hurt that lead single “Cult of Depression” possesses a devastating, hypnotic groove that recalls the once captivating technical whiplash of an early Decapitated. However, rather than wrestle with tones that incite a pure and raw violence like that cornerstone act (or similar Poldeath that has followed in its legacy like Dormant Ordeal), Obsidian Mantra uses aggressive and bass-loaded rhythmic forms to erupt in spacious and glass-toned guitar chimes to create an engrossing neck-snapping (“Slave Without a Master,” “Condemned to Oppression”). Whether we call these downcast refrains a dissonant melody or slowly resolving phrase, they grow throughout each track in a manner that calls continual reinforcement from a rhythm section that can drop into hammering blasts at a dime and a vocal presence that oscillates between vicious snarl and reverberating howl. In its most accessible numbers (“Chaos Will Consume Us All,” “Weavers of Misery”), Obsidian Mantra finds an oppressive warmth that grows to border anthemic, much in the way like beloved blackened/progressive acts like Hath do with their biggest moments. As We All Will still never quite reaches that full mountainous peak, though, opting to pursue the continual call of the groove to keep the listener coming back. Having come a long way from the Meshuggah-centered roots where Obsidian Mantra first sowed their deathly seeds, As We All Will provides 30 minutes of modern, pulsating, and venomous kick-driven pieces that will flare easy motivation for either a brutalizing pit or a mightily-thrusted iron on leg day.

Thus Spoke’s Cursed Collection

Esoctrilihum // Döth-Derniàlh [September 20th, 2024 – I, Voidhanger Records]

We complete another orbit around the Sun, and Esoctrilihum completes another album; such are the inalterable laws governing each 365.25 Earth day period in our Solar System. Possessed by some mad, restless spirit, it seems they cannot be stopped. Ever the experimenter, sole member Asthâghul now picks up an acoustic guitar, a nickelharpa, and warms up his throat for more clean vocals to further bizarre-ify his avant-garde black metal. As we travel into the cosmos for Döth-Derniàlh, Esoctrilihumisms abound in the see-sawing strings and echoes of chanted singing and throaty snarls. The addition of more acoustic elements does bring some weird delicacy to moments here and there (“Zilthuryth (Void of Zeraphaël),” “Murzaithas (Celestial Voices)”), and it adds layers of beauty in addition to those already harmonious passages. it’s striking how well these new instruments blend with the overall sound: so well, in fact, that it almost feels like Esoctrilihum hasn’t evolved at all. This isn’t even a bad thing, because Döth-Derniàlh still feels like an improvement. Past albums have always had at least sections of perfection, where the scattered clouds of self-interfering chaos or repetition blow away and the brilliant light of the moon shines strongly. Döth-Derniàlh has more of these than ever, some extending to whole, 16-minute songs (“Dy’th Eternalhys (The Mortuary Renewal),”).2 If you have it in you to listen to one (more) album over an hour long, and you don’t already know you hate Esoctrilihum, sit down with a drink, and maybe a joint, and go where Döth-Derniàlh takes you.

#2024 #Alienate #AmericanMetal #ArcosBóvedasPórticos #AsWeAllWill #AtmosphericDeathMetal #Aug24 #AvantGarde #BlackMetal #BrutalDeathMetal #CanadianMetal #CannibalCorpse #DeProfundis #DeathMetal #Decapitated #Dissolve #DormantOrdeal #DöthDerniàlh #Esoctrilihum #EyeEater #Fallujah #FrenchMetal #Gojira #GrandMagus #GrendelSSÿster #Gygax #HarcorePunk #IVoidhangerRecords #InheritedSufferingRecords #JethroTull #JudasPriest #MelodicDeathMetal #Meshuggah #Metallica #MorbidAngel #NewZealandMetal #NiDieuNiMaîTre #ObsidianMantra #ODC #OpenFleshWound #PolishMetal #PolymorphicWaysOfUnconsciousness #PostDeathMetal #PostMetal #postPunk #ProgressiveDeathMetal #ProgressiveMetal #Punk #Sanctuary #Screamo #SelfRelease #Sep24 #Sideburn #Slam #Slayer #Smerter #SpanishMetal #SpawnOfPossession #StuckInTheFilter #StuckInTheFilter2024 #TechnicalDeathMetal #Tenue #TheBlackDahliaMurder #TheContortionist #TheFlaying #ThinLizzy #Trepalium #Vildhjarta #VilePutrefaction #WishboneAsh

Stuck in the Filter: August and September 2024

By Kenstrosity

I am a stubborn bitch. I work my underlings hard, and I won’t let up until they dig up shiny goodies for me to share with the general public. Share might be a generous term. Foist upon is probably more accurate…

In any case, despite some pretty intense setbacks on my end, I still managed to collect enough material for a two-month spread. HUZZAH! REJOICE! Now get the hell away from me and listen to some of our very cool and good tunes.

Kenstrosity’s Turgid Truncheons

Tenue // Arcos, bóvedas, pórticos [August 1st, 2024 – Self-Release]

Spanish post-black/crust/screamo quartet Tenue earned my favor with their debut record, Anábasis, back in 2018. Equal parts vicious, introspective, and strangely uplifting, that record changed what I thought I could expect from anything bearing the screamo tag. By integrating ascendant black metal tremolos within post-punk structures and crusty attitude, Tenue established a sound that not only opened horizons for me taste-wise but also brought me a great deal of emotional catharsis on its own merit. Follow-up Arcos, bóvedas, pórticos deepens that relationship. Utilizing a wider atmospheric palette (“Distracción”), a shift towards epic song lengths (“Inquietude, and a greater variety of instrumentation (observe the beautiful horns on long-form opener “Inquietude”), and a bluesier swagger than previous material exhibited (“Letargo”), Tenue’s second salvo showcases a musical versatility I wasn’t expecting to complement the bleeding-heart emotional depth I knew would return. This expansion of scale and skillset sets the record apart from almost anything else I’ve heard this year. Even though one or two moments struggle to stick long-term (“Enfoque”), Arcos, bóvedas, pórticos represents an affecting, creative, and ridiculously engaging addition to my listening schedule. And for the low low price of NYP, it ought to be a part of yours as well.

Open Flesh Wound // Vile Putrefaction [August 28th, 2024 – Inherited Suffering Records]

Thicc, muggy slam with a million pick scrapes. Who could ask for anything more? Not I, and so it is with great pleasure that I introduce to my AMG fam Pennsylvania’s very own Open Flesh Wound and their debut LP Vile Putrefaction. Essentially the result of Analepsy’s and Devourment‘s carnal lovemaking, Vile Putrefaction is a nasty, slammy, brutal expulsion of chunky upchuck. Only those with the most caved-in craniums will appreciate the scraping swamp-ass riffs showcased on such slammers as “Smashed in Liquids” and “Cinder Block to the Forehead,” or the groove-laden thuggery of death-focused tracks like the title track, “Fermented Intestinal Blockage” and “Body Baggie.” Vile Putrefaction’s molasses-like production is an absolute boon to this sound as well, with just enough gloss to provide a deliciously moist texture which imparts an unlikely clarity to especially gruesome details in “Stoma Necrosis” and “Skin Like Jelly.” It’s dumb as hell, and isn’t doing anything new, but is an overdose of good, dirty fun. Simple as.

The Flaying // Ni dieu, ni ma​î​tre [September 5th, 2024 – Self Release]

I’ve been singing Canadian melodic death metal quartet The Flaying’s praises for almost six years now. And still to this day not enough people choose to sing with me. Why? Because they wouldn’t know sickeningly fun death metal if it hacked their faces right off. That’s okay, because The Flaying do hack faces right off regardless, and it feels so good to watch the faces of those who don’t heed my call get hacked right off. Third onslaught Ni dieu, ni ma​î​tre proves that once again, The Flaying are an unstoppable force of bass wizardry, riff mastery, and hook-laden songwriting. Opener “Le nécrologiste” perfectly encapsulates The Flaying’s particularly addicting brew of Cannibal Corpse, The Black Dahlia Murder, and De Profundis influences, shaken and stirred until the resulting cocktail blooms with a flavor all its own. Technical and brutally fast, follow-up track “L’enclave” continues the deadly rampage, featuring noodly bass lines guaranteed to elicit stank face in the even most prim and proper elite. A trim twenty nine minutes, spread over ten tightly trained tracks, Ni dieu, ni ma​î​tre boasts unbeatable replay value. Highlights “Ni dieu, ni ma​î​tre,” “Les Frondes” “La forge,” and “Noyau sombre” seal the deal by providing sharp hard points and memorable landmarks to which any listener would look forward. Simply put, this record rocks my socks and further proves that I am right about The Flaying, and those who ignore my recommendation are wrong.

Dolphin Whisperer’s All-Seeing Affirmations

Eye Eater // Alienate [August 1st, 2024 – Self Release]

In a post-Ulcerate world, the modern output of atmosphere-minded death metal has grown exponentially. With ringing dissonant chords and slow post-informed builds taking center stage, bands like New Zealand’s unheralded Eye Eater borrow plenty from the Destroyers of All sound. However, while many acts would be content to dial in the space or ramp up the dissonance to try and put their own twist on this growing post-death movement, Eye Eater looks to the laser-precise melodic tones of progressive, core-borrowing names like Fallujah and Vildhjarta to carve an identity into each of Alienate’s album eight sprawling tracks. Swinging sustained brightness in one hand about the grizzly chug-crush of the other, burly bangers like “Other Planets” and “Failure Artifacts” find churning, djentrified grooves that amplify the swell of the blaring melodies that swirl above the low-end clamor. And though the main refrains of “Alienate” and “Everything You Fear and Hope For” sound like loving odes to their Kiwi Forebears, the growth into sonorous and lush-chorded peaks lands much closer to the attraction of turn of the 10s progressive death/metalcore luminaries The Contortionist had they stayed closer to their heavy-toned, hefty-voiced roots. As an anonymous act with little social presence, it’s hard to say whether Eye Eater has more cooking for the future. With their ears tuned to the recent past for inspiration, it’s easy to see how a band with this kind of melodic immediacy—still wrapped in the weight of a brooding, death metal identity—could easily play for the tops of underground charts. To those who have been following the twists and turns of both underground and accessible over the past decade or so, Eye Eater may not sound entirely novel. But Alienate’s familiarity in presence against its quality of execution and fullness of sound makes it easy to ensnare all the same.

Dissolve // Polymorphic Ways of Unconsciousness [September 20th, 2024 – Self Release]

From the sand-blasted, monochrome human escaping the floor of Polymorphic Ways’ cover to the tags of technical, progressive, death that adorn the Bandcamp tags, it’s easy to put a band like Dissolve in a box, mentally. But with the first bent guitar run that sets off “Efficiency Defiled” in a run like Judas Priest more than Spawn of Possession, it’s clear that Dissolve plays by a different set of rules than your average chug and run tech death band. Yet true to their French nature, the riffs that litter Polymorphic Ways of Unconsciousness possess a tangible groove following the footsteps of lesser-known tricksters Trepalium and Olympic titans of metal Gojira (“The Great Pessimistic,”1 “Polymorphic Ways of Unconsciousness,” “Vultures”). And while too Dissolve finds a base in the low-end trem assault of Morbid Angel (“Ignorance Will Prevail”), there’s a thrash and bark energy at play that nets a rambunctious and experimental sound recalling the warped Hetfield-ian (Metallica) scrawl of Destroy Erase Improve Meshuggah, right down to the monstrous bass tone that defines Sonny Bellonie’s (Sanctuary, ODC) growling, extended range performance. As a trio it’d be easy for guitarist Briac Turquety (Smerter, ex-Sideburn) to rely on overdubs for saturation of sound and complexity of layers—and for solo cut-ins he definitely does—but equally as often his choice to let certain chords and notes escape a thrashy muting to ring in distorted harmony against snaking bass lines. And speaking of solos, Turquety’s prowess ranges from bluesy shred (“The Great Pessimistic,” “Ropes of Madness”) to noisy, jazzy explorations (“Polymorphic…,” “Shattered Minds of Evolution”) to Satriani on Slayer whammy abuse (“Bonfire of the Vanities”)—a true treat to lovers of tasteful shred. Turquety, Bellonie, and Quentin Feron (on drums, also of Smerter) sound as if they’ve been playing together for much longer than the year that Dissolve has existed. With a debut this polished, it’s anyone’s guess as to what kind of monster will emerge from the talent that appears so effortless in assembly.

Obsidian Mantra // As We All Will [September 27th, 2024 – Self Release]

Sometimes, a tangled and foreboding cover sits as the biggest draw amongst a crowd of death metal albums alight with splattered zombie remains, illegible logos, and alarm-colored palettes. And in the case of Obsidian Mantra, it doesn’t hurt that lead single “Cult of Depression” possesses a devastating, hypnotic groove that recalls the once captivating technical whiplash of an early Decapitated. However, rather than wrestle with tones that incite a pure and raw violence like that cornerstone act (or similar Poldeath that has followed in its legacy like Dormant Ordeal), Obsidian Mantra uses aggressive and bass-loaded rhythmic forms to erupt in spacious and glass-toned guitar chimes to create an engrossing neck-snapping (“Slave Without a Master,” “Condemned to Oppression”). Whether we call these downcast refrains a dissonant melody or slowly resolving phrase, they grow throughout each track in a manner that calls continual reinforcement from a rhythm section that can drop into hammering blasts at a dime and a vocal presence that oscillates between vicious snarl and reverberating howl. In its most accessible numbers (“Chaos Will Consume Us All,” “Weavers of Misery”), Obsidian Mantra finds an oppressive warmth that grows to border anthemic, much in the way like beloved blackened/progressive acts like Hath do with their biggest moments. As We All Will still never quite reaches that full mountainous peak, though, opting to pursue the continual call of the groove to keep the listener coming back. Having come a long way from the Meshuggah-centered roots where Obsidian Mantra first sowed their deathly seeds, As We All Will provides 30 minutes of modern, pulsating, and venomous kick-driven pieces that will flare easy motivation for either a brutalizing pit or a mightily-thrusted iron on leg day.

Thus Spoke’s Cursed Collection

Esoctrilihum // Döth-Derniàlh [September 20th, 2024 – I, Voidhanger Records]

We complete another orbit around the Sun, and Esoctrilihum completes another album; such are the inalterable laws governing each 365.25 Earth day period in our Solar System. Possessed by some mad, restless spirit, it seems they cannot be stopped. Ever the experimenter, sole member Asthâghul now picks up an acoustic guitar, a nickelharpa, and warms up his throat for more clean vocals to further bizarre-ify his avant-garde black metal. As we travel into the cosmos for Döth-Derniàlh, Esoctrilihumisms abound in the see-sawing strings and echoes of chanted singing and throaty snarls. The addition of more acoustic elements does bring some weird delicacy to moments here and there (“Zilthuryth (Void of Zeraphaël),” “Murzaithas (Celestial Voices)”), and it adds layers of beauty in addition to those already harmonious passages. it’s striking how well these new instruments blend with the overall sound: so well, in fact, that it almost feels like Esoctrilihum hasn’t evolved at all. This isn’t even a bad thing, because Döth-Derniàlh still feels like an improvement. Past albums have always had at least sections of perfection, where the scattered clouds of self-interfering chaos or repetition blow away and the brilliant light of the moon shines strongly. Döth-Derniàlh has more of these than ever, some extending to whole, 16-minute songs (“Dy’th Eternalhys (The Mortuary Renewal),”).2 If you have it in you to listen to one (more) album over an hour long, and you don’t already know you hate Esoctrilihum, sit down with a drink, and maybe a joint, and go where Döth-Derniàlh takes you.

#2024 #Alienate #AmericanMetal #ArcosBóvedasPórticos #AsWeAllWill #AtmosphericDeathMetal #Aug24 #AvantGarde #BlackMetal #BrutalDeathMetal #CanadianMetal #CannibalCorpse #DeProfundis #DeathMetal #Decapitated #Dissolve #DormantOrdeal #DöthDerniàlh #Esoctrilihum #EyeEater #Fallujah #FrenchMetal #Gojira #GrandMagus #GrendelSSÿster #Gygax #HarcorePunk #IVoidhangerRecords #InheritedSufferingRecords #JethroTull #JudasPriest #MelodicDeathMetal #Meshuggah #Metallica #MorbidAngel #NewZealandMetal #NiDieuNiMaîTre #ObsidianMantra #ODC #OpenFleshWound #PolishMetal #PolymorphicWaysOfUnconsciousness #PostDeathMetal #PostMetal #postPunk #ProgressiveDeathMetal #ProgressiveMetal #Punk #Sanctuary #Screamo #SelfRelease #Sep24 #Sideburn #Slam #Slayer #Smerter #SpanishMetal #SpawnOfPossession #StuckInTheFilter #StuckInTheFilter2024 #TechnicalDeathMetal #Tenue #TheBlackDahliaMurder #TheContortionist #TheFlaying #ThinLizzy #Trepalium #Vildhjarta #VilePutrefaction #WishboneAsh

Stuck in the Filter: August and September 2024

By Kenstrosity

I am a stubborn bitch. I work my underlings hard, and I won’t let up until they dig up shiny goodies for me to share with the general public. Share might be a generous term. Foist upon is probably more accurate…

In any case, despite some pretty intense setbacks on my end, I still managed to collect enough material for a two-month spread. HUZZAH! REJOICE! Now get the hell away from me and listen to some of our very cool and good tunes.

Kenstrosity’s Turgid Truncheons

Tenue // Arcos, bóvedas, pórticos [August 1st, 2024 – Self-Release]

Spanish post-black/crust/screamo quartet Tenue earned my favor with their debut record, Anábasis, back in 2018. Equal parts vicious, introspective, and strangely uplifting, that record changed what I thought I could expect from anything bearing the screamo tag. By integrating ascendant black metal tremolos within post-punk structures and crusty attitude, Tenue established a sound that not only opened horizons for me taste-wise but also brought me a great deal of emotional catharsis on its own merit. Follow-up Arcos, bóvedas, pórticos deepens that relationship. Utilizing a wider atmospheric palette (“Distracción”), a shift towards epic song lengths (“Inquietude, and a greater variety of instrumentation (observe the beautiful horns on long-form opener “Inquietude”), and a bluesier swagger than previous material exhibited (“Letargo”), Tenue’s second salvo showcases a musical versatility I wasn’t expecting to complement the bleeding-heart emotional depth I knew would return. This expansion of scale and skillset sets the record apart from almost anything else I’ve heard this year. Even though one or two moments struggle to stick long-term (“Enfoque”), Arcos, bóvedas, pórticos represents an affecting, creative, and ridiculously engaging addition to my listening schedule. And for the low low price of NYP, it ought to be a part of yours as well.

Open Flesh Wound // Vile Putrefaction [August 28th, 2024 – Inherited Suffering Records]

Thicc, muggy slam with a million pick scrapes. Who could ask for anything more? Not I, and so it is with great pleasure that I introduce to my AMG fam Pennsylvania’s very own Open Flesh Wound and their debut LP Vile Putrefaction. Essentially the result of Analepsy’s and Devourment‘s carnal lovemaking, Vile Putrefaction is a nasty, slammy, brutal expulsion of chunky upchuck. Only those with the most caved-in craniums will appreciate the scraping swamp-ass riffs showcased on such slammers as “Smashed in Liquids” and “Cinder Block to the Forehead,” or the groove-laden thuggery of death-focused tracks like the title track, “Fermented Intestinal Blockage” and “Body Baggie.” Vile Putrefaction’s molasses-like production is an absolute boon to this sound as well, with just enough gloss to provide a deliciously moist texture which imparts an unlikely clarity to especially gruesome details in “Stoma Necrosis” and “Skin Like Jelly.” It’s dumb as hell, and isn’t doing anything new, but is an overdose of good, dirty fun. Simple as.

The Flaying // Ni dieu, ni ma​î​tre [September 5th, 2024 – Self Release]

I’ve been singing Canadian melodic death metal quartet The Flaying’s praises for almost six years now. And still to this day not enough people choose to sing with me. Why? Because they wouldn’t know sickeningly fun death metal if it hacked their faces right off. That’s okay, because The Flaying do hack faces right off regardless, and it feels so good to watch the faces of those who don’t heed my call get hacked right off. Third onslaught Ni dieu, ni ma​î​tre proves that once again, The Flaying are an unstoppable force of bass wizardry, riff mastery, and hook-laden songwriting. Opener “Le nécrologiste” perfectly encapsulates The Flaying’s particularly addicting brew of Cannibal Corpse, The Black Dahlia Murder, and De Profundis influences, shaken and stirred until the resulting cocktail blooms with a flavor all its own. Technical and brutally fast, follow-up track “L’enclave” continues the deadly rampage, featuring noodly bass lines guaranteed to elicit stank face in the even most prim and proper elite. A trim twenty nine minutes, spread over ten tightly trained tracks, Ni dieu, ni ma​î​tre boasts unbeatable replay value. Highlights “Ni dieu, ni ma​î​tre,” “Les Frondes” “La forge,” and “Noyau sombre” seal the deal by providing sharp hard points and memorable landmarks to which any listener would look forward. Simply put, this record rocks my socks and further proves that I am right about The Flaying, and those who ignore my recommendation are wrong.

Dolphin Whisperer’s All-Seeing Affirmations

Eye Eater // Alienate [August 1st, 2024 – Self Release]

In a post-Ulcerate world, the modern output of atmosphere-minded death metal has grown exponentially. With ringing dissonant chords and slow post-informed builds taking center stage, bands like New Zealand’s unheralded Eye Eater borrow plenty from the Destroyers of All sound. However, while many acts would be content to dial in the space or ramp up the dissonance to try and put their own twist on this growing post-death movement, Eye Eater looks to the laser-precise melodic tones of progressive, core-borrowing names like Fallujah and Vildhjarta to carve an identity into each of Alienate’s album eight sprawling tracks. Swinging sustained brightness in one hand about the grizzly chug-crush of the other, burly bangers like “Other Planets” and “Failure Artifacts” find churning, djentrified grooves that amplify the swell of the blaring melodies that swirl above the low-end clamor. And though the main refrains of “Alienate” and “Everything You Fear and Hope For” sound like loving odes to their Kiwi Forebears, the growth into sonorous and lush-chorded peaks lands much closer to the attraction of turn of the 10s progressive death/metalcore luminaries The Contortionist had they stayed closer to their heavy-toned, hefty-voiced roots. As an anonymous act with little social presence, it’s hard to say whether Eye Eater has more cooking for the future. With their ears tuned to the recent past for inspiration, it’s easy to see how a band with this kind of melodic immediacy—still wrapped in the weight of a brooding, death metal identity—could easily play for the tops of underground charts. To those who have been following the twists and turns of both underground and accessible over the past decade or so, Eye Eater may not sound entirely novel. But Alienate’s familiarity in presence against its quality of execution and fullness of sound makes it easy to ensnare all the same.

Dissolve // Polymorphic Ways of Unconsciousness [September 20th, 2024 – Self Release]

From the sand-blasted, monochrome human escaping the floor of Polymorphic Ways’ cover to the tags of technical, progressive, death that adorn the Bandcamp tags, it’s easy to put a band like Dissolve in a box, mentally. But with the first bent guitar run that sets off “Efficiency Defiled” in a run like Judas Priest more than Spawn of Possession, it’s clear that Dissolve plays by a different set of rules than your average chug and run tech death band. Yet true to their French nature, the riffs that litter Polymorphic Ways of Unconsciousness possess a tangible groove following the footsteps of lesser-known tricksters Trepalium and Olympic titans of metal Gojira (“The Great Pessimistic,”1 “Polymorphic Ways of Unconsciousness,” “Vultures”). And while too Dissolve finds a base in the low-end trem assault of Morbid Angel (“Ignorance Will Prevail”), there’s a thrash and bark energy at play that nets a rambunctious and experimental sound recalling the warped Hetfield-ian (Metallica) scrawl of Destroy Erase Improve Meshuggah, right down to the monstrous bass tone that defines Sonny Bellonie’s (Sanctuary, ODC) growling, extended range performance. As a trio it’d be easy for guitarist Briac Turquety (Smerter, ex-Sideburn) to rely on overdubs for saturation of sound and complexity of layers—and for solo cut-ins he definitely does—but equally as often his choice to let certain chords and notes escape a thrashy muting to ring in distorted harmony against snaking bass lines. And speaking of solos, Turquety’s prowess ranges from bluesy shred (“The Great Pessimistic,” “Ropes of Madness”) to noisy, jazzy explorations (“Polymorphic…,” “Shattered Minds of Evolution”) to Satriani on Slayer whammy abuse (“Bonfire of the Vanities”)—a true treat to lovers of tasteful shred. Turquety, Bellonie, and Quentin Feron (on drums, also of Smerter) sound as if they’ve been playing together for much longer than the year that Dissolve has existed. With a debut this polished, it’s anyone’s guess as to what kind of monster will emerge from the talent that appears so effortless in assembly.

Obsidian Mantra // As We All Will [September 27th, 2024 – Self Release]

Sometimes, a tangled and foreboding cover sits as the biggest draw amongst a crowd of death metal albums alight with splattered zombie remains, illegible logos, and alarm-colored palettes. And in the case of Obsidian Mantra, it doesn’t hurt that lead single “Cult of Depression” possesses a devastating, hypnotic groove that recalls the once captivating technical whiplash of an early Decapitated. However, rather than wrestle with tones that incite a pure and raw violence like that cornerstone act (or similar Poldeath that has followed in its legacy like Dormant Ordeal), Obsidian Mantra uses aggressive and bass-loaded rhythmic forms to erupt in spacious and glass-toned guitar chimes to create an engrossing neck-snapping (“Slave Without a Master,” “Condemned to Oppression”). Whether we call these downcast refrains a dissonant melody or slowly resolving phrase, they grow throughout each track in a manner that calls continual reinforcement from a rhythm section that can drop into hammering blasts at a dime and a vocal presence that oscillates between vicious snarl and reverberating howl. In its most accessible numbers (“Chaos Will Consume Us All,” “Weavers of Misery”), Obsidian Mantra finds an oppressive warmth that grows to border anthemic, much in the way like beloved blackened/progressive acts like Hath do with their biggest moments. As We All Will still never quite reaches that full mountainous peak, though, opting to pursue the continual call of the groove to keep the listener coming back. Having come a long way from the Meshuggah-centered roots where Obsidian Mantra first sowed their deathly seeds, As We All Will provides 30 minutes of modern, pulsating, and venomous kick-driven pieces that will flare easy motivation for either a brutalizing pit or a mightily-thrusted iron on leg day.

Thus Spoke’s Cursed Collection

Esoctrilihum // Döth-Derniàlh [September 20th, 2024 – I, Voidhanger Records]

We complete another orbit around the Sun, and Esoctrilihum completes another album; such are the inalterable laws governing each 365.25 Earth day period in our Solar System. Possessed by some mad, restless spirit, it seems they cannot be stopped. Ever the experimenter, sole member Asthâghul now picks up an acoustic guitar, a nickelharpa, and warms up his throat for more clean vocals to further bizarre-ify his avant-garde black metal. As we travel into the cosmos for Döth-Derniàlh, Esoctrilihumisms abound in the see-sawing strings and echoes of chanted singing and throaty snarls. The addition of more acoustic elements does bring some weird delicacy to moments here and there (“Zilthuryth (Void of Zeraphaël),” “Murzaithas (Celestial Voices)”), and it adds layers of beauty in addition to those already harmonious passages. it’s striking how well these new instruments blend with the overall sound: so well, in fact, that it almost feels like Esoctrilihum hasn’t evolved at all. This isn’t even a bad thing, because Döth-Derniàlh still feels like an improvement. Past albums have always had at least sections of perfection, where the scattered clouds of self-interfering chaos or repetition blow away and the brilliant light of the moon shines strongly. Döth-Derniàlh has more of these than ever, some extending to whole, 16-minute songs (“Dy’th Eternalhys (The Mortuary Renewal),”).2 If you have it in you to listen to one (more) album over an hour long, and you don’t already know you hate Esoctrilihum, sit down with a drink, and maybe a joint, and go where Döth-Derniàlh takes you.

#2024 #Alienate #AmericanMetal #ArcosBóvedasPórticos #AsWeAllWill #AtmosphericDeathMetal #Aug24 #AvantGarde #BlackMetal #BrutalDeathMetal #CanadianMetal #CannibalCorpse #DeProfundis #DeathMetal #Decapitated #Dissolve #DormantOrdeal #DöthDerniàlh #Esoctrilihum #EyeEater #Fallujah #FrenchMetal #Gojira #GrandMagus #GrendelSSÿster #Gygax #HarcorePunk #IVoidhangerRecords #InheritedSufferingRecords #JethroTull #JudasPriest #MelodicDeathMetal #Meshuggah #Metallica #MorbidAngel #NewZealandMetal #NiDieuNiMaîTre #ObsidianMantra #ODC #OpenFleshWound #PolishMetal #PolymorphicWaysOfUnconsciousness #PostDeathMetal #PostMetal #postPunk #ProgressiveDeathMetal #ProgressiveMetal #Punk #Sanctuary #Screamo #SelfRelease #Sep24 #Sideburn #Slam #Slayer #Smerter #SpanishMetal #SpawnOfPossession #StuckInTheFilter #StuckInTheFilter2024 #TechnicalDeathMetal #Tenue #TheBlackDahliaMurder #TheContortionist #TheFlaying #ThinLizzy #Trepalium #Vildhjarta #VilePutrefaction #WishboneAsh

Stuck in the Filter: August and September 2024

By Kenstrosity

I am a stubborn bitch. I work my underlings hard, and I won’t let up until they dig up shiny goodies for me to share with the general public. Share might be a generous term. Foist upon is probably more accurate…

In any case, despite some pretty intense setbacks on my end, I still managed to collect enough material for a two-month spread. HUZZAH! REJOICE! Now get the hell away from me and listen to some of our very cool and good tunes.

Kenstrosity’s Turgid Truncheons

Tenue // Arcos, bóvedas, pórticos [August 1st, 2024 – Self-Release]

Spanish post-black/crust/screamo quartet Tenue earned my favor with their debut record, Anábasis, back in 2018. Equal parts vicious, introspective, and strangely uplifting, that record changed what I thought I could expect from anything bearing the screamo tag. By integrating ascendant black metal tremolos within post-punk structures and crusty attitude, Tenue established a sound that not only opened horizons for me taste-wise but also brought me a great deal of emotional catharsis on its own merit. Follow-up Arcos, bóvedas, pórticos deepens that relationship. Utilizing a wider atmospheric palette (“Distracción”), a shift towards epic song lengths (“Inquietude, and a greater variety of instrumentation (observe the beautiful horns on long-form opener “Inquietude”), and a bluesier swagger than previous material exhibited (“Letargo”), Tenue’s second salvo showcases a musical versatility I wasn’t expecting to complement the bleeding-heart emotional depth I knew would return. This expansion of scale and skillset sets the record apart from almost anything else I’ve heard this year. Even though one or two moments struggle to stick long-term (“Enfoque”), Arcos, bóvedas, pórticos represents an affecting, creative, and ridiculously engaging addition to my listening schedule. And for the low low price of NYP, it ought to be a part of yours as well.

Open Flesh Wound // Vile Putrefaction [August 28th, 2024 – Inherited Suffering Records]

Thicc, muggy slam with a million pick scrapes. Who could ask for anything more? Not I, and so it is with great pleasure that I introduce to my AMG fam Pennsylvania’s very own Open Flesh Wound and their debut LP Vile Putrefaction. Essentially the result of Analepsy’s and Devourment‘s carnal lovemaking, Vile Putrefaction is a nasty, slammy, brutal expulsion of chunky upchuck. Only those with the most caved-in craniums will appreciate the scraping swamp-ass riffs showcased on such slammers as “Smashed in Liquids” and “Cinder Block to the Forehead,” or the groove-laden thuggery of death-focused tracks like the title track, “Fermented Intestinal Blockage” and “Body Baggie.” Vile Putrefaction’s molasses-like production is an absolute boon to this sound as well, with just enough gloss to provide a deliciously moist texture which imparts an unlikely clarity to especially gruesome details in “Stoma Necrosis” and “Skin Like Jelly.” It’s dumb as hell, and isn’t doing anything new, but is an overdose of good, dirty fun. Simple as.

The Flaying // Ni dieu, ni ma​î​tre [September 5th, 2024 – Self Release]

I’ve been singing Canadian melodic death metal quartet The Flaying’s praises for almost six years now. And still to this day not enough people choose to sing with me. Why? Because they wouldn’t know sickeningly fun death metal if it hacked their faces right off. That’s okay, because The Flaying do hack faces right off regardless, and it feels so good to watch the faces of those who don’t heed my call get hacked right off. Third onslaught Ni dieu, ni ma​î​tre proves that once again, The Flaying are an unstoppable force of bass wizardry, riff mastery, and hook-laden songwriting. Opener “Le nécrologiste” perfectly encapsulates The Flaying’s particularly addicting brew of Cannibal Corpse, The Black Dahlia Murder, and De Profundis influences, shaken and stirred until the resulting cocktail blooms with a flavor all its own. Technical and brutally fast, follow-up track “L’enclave” continues the deadly rampage, featuring noodly bass lines guaranteed to elicit stank face in the even most prim and proper elite. A trim twenty nine minutes, spread over ten tightly trained tracks, Ni dieu, ni ma​î​tre boasts unbeatable replay value. Highlights “Ni dieu, ni ma​î​tre,” “Les Frondes” “La forge,” and “Noyau sombre” seal the deal by providing sharp hard points and memorable landmarks to which any listener would look forward. Simply put, this record rocks my socks and further proves that I am right about The Flaying, and those who ignore my recommendation are wrong.

Dolphin Whisperer’s All-Seeing Affirmations

Eye Eater // Alienate [August 1st, 2024 – Self Release]

In a post-Ulcerate world, the modern output of atmosphere-minded death metal has grown exponentially. With ringing dissonant chords and slow post-informed builds taking center stage, bands like New Zealand’s unheralded Eye Eater borrow plenty from the Destroyers of All sound. However, while many acts would be content to dial in the space or ramp up the dissonance to try and put their own twist on this growing post-death movement, Eye Eater looks to the laser-precise melodic tones of progressive, core-borrowing names like Fallujah and Vildhjarta to carve an identity into each of Alienate’s album eight sprawling tracks. Swinging sustained brightness in one hand about the grizzly chug-crush of the other, burly bangers like “Other Planets” and “Failure Artifacts” find churning, djentrified grooves that amplify the swell of the blaring melodies that swirl above the low-end clamor. And though the main refrains of “Alienate” and “Everything You Fear and Hope For” sound like loving odes to their Kiwi Forebears, the growth into sonorous and lush-chorded peaks lands much closer to the attraction of turn of the 10s progressive death/metalcore luminaries The Contortionist had they stayed closer to their heavy-toned, hefty-voiced roots. As an anonymous act with little social presence, it’s hard to say whether Eye Eater has more cooking for the future. With their ears tuned to the recent past for inspiration, it’s easy to see how a band with this kind of melodic immediacy—still wrapped in the weight of a brooding, death metal identity—could easily play for the tops of underground charts. To those who have been following the twists and turns of both underground and accessible over the past decade or so, Eye Eater may not sound entirely novel. But Alienate’s familiarity in presence against its quality of execution and fullness of sound makes it easy to ensnare all the same.

Dissolve // Polymorphic Ways of Unconsciousness [September 20th, 2024 – Self Release]

From the sand-blasted, monochrome human escaping the floor of Polymorphic Ways’ cover to the tags of technical, progressive, death that adorn the Bandcamp tags, it’s easy to put a band like Dissolve in a box, mentally. But with the first bent guitar run that sets off “Efficiency Defiled” in a run like Judas Priest more than Spawn of Possession, it’s clear that Dissolve plays by a different set of rules than your average chug and run tech death band. Yet true to their French nature, the riffs that litter Polymorphic Ways of Unconsciousness possess a tangible groove following the footsteps of lesser-known tricksters Trepalium and Olympic titans of metal Gojira (“The Great Pessimistic,”1 “Polymorphic Ways of Unconsciousness,” “Vultures”). And while too Dissolve finds a base in the low-end trem assault of Morbid Angel (“Ignorance Will Prevail”), there’s a thrash and bark energy at play that nets a rambunctious and experimental sound recalling the warped Hetfield-ian (Metallica) scrawl of Destroy Erase Improve Meshuggah, right down to the monstrous bass tone that defines Sonny Bellonie’s (Sanctuary, ODC) growling, extended range performance. As a trio it’d be easy for guitarist Briac Turquety (Smerter, ex-Sideburn) to rely on overdubs for saturation of sound and complexity of layers—and for solo cut-ins he definitely does—but equally as often his choice to let certain chords and notes escape a thrashy muting to ring in distorted harmony against snaking bass lines. And speaking of solos, Turquety’s prowess ranges from bluesy shred (“The Great Pessimistic,” “Ropes of Madness”) to noisy, jazzy explorations (“Polymorphic…,” “Shattered Minds of Evolution”) to Satriani on Slayer whammy abuse (“Bonfire of the Vanities”)—a true treat to lovers of tasteful shred. Turquety, Bellonie, and Quentin Feron (on drums, also of Smerter) sound as if they’ve been playing together for much longer than the year that Dissolve has existed. With a debut this polished, it’s anyone’s guess as to what kind of monster will emerge from the talent that appears so effortless in assembly.

Obsidian Mantra // As We All Will [September 27th, 2024 – Self Release]

Sometimes, a tangled and foreboding cover sits as the biggest draw amongst a crowd of death metal albums alight with splattered zombie remains, illegible logos, and alarm-colored palettes. And in the case of Obsidian Mantra, it doesn’t hurt that lead single “Cult of Depression” possesses a devastating, hypnotic groove that recalls the once captivating technical whiplash of an early Decapitated. However, rather than wrestle with tones that incite a pure and raw violence like that cornerstone act (or similar Poldeath that has followed in its legacy like Dormant Ordeal), Obsidian Mantra uses aggressive and bass-loaded rhythmic forms to erupt in spacious and glass-toned guitar chimes to create an engrossing neck-snapping (“Slave Without a Master,” “Condemned to Oppression”). Whether we call these downcast refrains a dissonant melody or slowly resolving phrase, they grow throughout each track in a manner that calls continual reinforcement from a rhythm section that can drop into hammering blasts at a dime and a vocal presence that oscillates between vicious snarl and reverberating howl. In its most accessible numbers (“Chaos Will Consume Us All,” “Weavers of Misery”), Obsidian Mantra finds an oppressive warmth that grows to border anthemic, much in the way like beloved blackened/progressive acts like Hath do with their biggest moments. As We All Will still never quite reaches that full mountainous peak, though, opting to pursue the continual call of the groove to keep the listener coming back. Having come a long way from the Meshuggah-centered roots where Obsidian Mantra first sowed their deathly seeds, As We All Will provides 30 minutes of modern, pulsating, and venomous kick-driven pieces that will flare easy motivation for either a brutalizing pit or a mightily-thrusted iron on leg day.

Thus Spoke’s Cursed Collection

Esoctrilihum // Döth-Derniàlh [September 20th, 2024 – I, Voidhanger Records]

We complete another orbit around the Sun, and Esoctrilihum completes another album; such are the inalterable laws governing each 365.25 Earth day period in our Solar System. Possessed by some mad, restless spirit, it seems they cannot be stopped. Ever the experimenter, sole member Asthâghul now picks up an acoustic guitar, a nickelharpa, and warms up his throat for more clean vocals to further bizarre-ify his avant-garde black metal. As we travel into the cosmos for Döth-Derniàlh, Esoctrilihumisms abound in the see-sawing strings and echoes of chanted singing and throaty snarls. The addition of more acoustic elements does bring some weird delicacy to moments here and there (“Zilthuryth (Void of Zeraphaël),” “Murzaithas (Celestial Voices)”), and it adds layers of beauty in addition to those already harmonious passages. it’s striking how well these new instruments blend with the overall sound: so well, in fact, that it almost feels like Esoctrilihum hasn’t evolved at all. This isn’t even a bad thing, because Döth-Derniàlh still feels like an improvement. Past albums have always had at least sections of perfection, where the scattered clouds of self-interfering chaos or repetition blow away and the brilliant light of the moon shines strongly. Döth-Derniàlh has more of these than ever, some extending to whole, 16-minute songs (“Dy’th Eternalhys (The Mortuary Renewal),”).2 If you have it in you to listen to one (more) album over an hour long, and you don’t already know you hate Esoctrilihum, sit down with a drink, and maybe a joint, and go where Döth-Derniàlh takes you.

Show 2 footnotes

1. Remember, they’re French, not English majors. ↩
2. This sounds like a horrible backhanded compliment, but when you’re making music this esoteric and long-winded, it’s unironically impressive. ↩

#2024 #Alienate #AmericanMetal #ArcosBóvedasPórticos #AsWeAllWill #AtmosphericDeathMetal #Aug24 #AvantGarde #BlackMetal #BrutalDeathMetal #CanadianMetal #CannibalCorpse #DeProfundis #DeathMetal #Decapitated #Dissolve #DormantOrdeal #DöthDerniàlh #Esoctrilihum #EyeEater #Fallujah #FrenchMetal #Gojira #GrandMagus #GrendelSSÿster #Gygax #HarcorePunk #IVoidhangerRecords #InheritedSufferingRecords #JethroTull #JudasPriest #MelodicDeathMetal #Meshuggah #Metallica #MorbidAngel #NewZealandMetal #NiDieuNiMaîTre #ObsidianMantra #ODC #OpenFleshWound #PolishMetal #PolymorphicWaysOfUnconsciousness #PostDeathMetal #PostMetal #postPunk #ProgressiveDeathMetal #ProgressiveMetal #Punk #Sanctuary #Screamo #SelfRelease #Sep24 #Sideburn #Slam #Slayer #Smerter #SpanishMetal #SpawnOfPossession #StuckInTheFilter #StuckInTheFilter2024 #TechnicalDeathMetal #Tenue #TheBlackDahliaMurder #TheContortionist #TheFlaying #ThinLizzy #Trepalium #Vildhjarta #VilePutrefaction #WishboneAsh

Opeth from Worst to Best: 13-9

By Angry Metal Guy

On the 22nd of November, Opeth will release full-length number fourteen—which we have already reviewed, if you have not seen it. We sometimes “go ranking” here at Angry Metal Guy, but in the case of Opeth that just doesn’t convey the profound influence the band has had or the depth of the personal relationship that I—Angry Metal Guy—have with one of Sweden’s greatest metal and progressive bands. It is therefore in the spirit of the Iron Maiden from Worst to Be(a)st that this particular incarnation of the rankings has been conceived. But this time, I have invited El Cuervo to tag along. Enjoy this trip down memory lane. I look forward to fighting with you in the comments.

Angry Metal Guy

For me, Opeth played a major role in my development as a metalhead, as a fan of extreme metal and prog, and, of course, as a guitar player and songwriter. And they’re probably the band aside from Iron Maiden that I have called my favorite band most frequently throughout my life. While my fandom most certainly peaked around Ghost Reveries—having seen the band at least a half dozen times between their first US show at Milwaukee Metalfest and moving to Sweden myself—they continue to play a major role in how I think about music and how I interpret the modern metal scene.

On a personal note, I have also had the privilege of getting to spend time with the band in various ways. The first Swede I ever spoke Swedish to was Peter Lindgren, though I hardly knew a word at the time. I was recommended the absolutely legendary—to the point of being a cultural joke in Sweden—Jazz på svenska by Mikael Åkerfeldt on a bus one time when we were talking about folk metal. I once explored the basement at The Rave in Milwaukee with Fredrik Åkesson (then in Arch Enemy),1 Eric Hersemann (Gigan, ex-Hate Eternal), and my friend, the late Adam Sagan (Witherfall, White Empress, Circle II Circle, among others) on my birthday before I moved to Sweden. Since being in Sweden, I have become friends with the estimable Martin López of Soen, which I never imagined would happen.

All of this is to say that my connections to Opeth both emotionally and musically are stronger than just about any band in the world. That said, I don’t think that I have as nearly a so idiosyncratic view on Opeth as I did on Iron Maiden when I wrote the Worst to Beast posts. Unlike Iron Maiden, I was part of the metal consensus at the time that Opeth was releasing its most iconic material. I was swept away by Blackwater Park and was bummed when they announced that death metal was for losers before releasing Heritage. I have been on this rollercoaster ride in a way that I wasn’t for Maiden. And I love these guys and all the joy their music has given me over the years. Even as I’ve gotten older and more jaded about Åkerfeldt’s schtick, I can remember a time when I could say in all honesty that I could happily put their entire discography on shuffle and I wouldn’t have encountered a bad song. So, this is going to be an interesting exercise.

As usual, I have created tiers. So let’s start with…

Foregopeth

#13. Heritage (2011). “Heritage is full of great riffs and ideas, but not many very good songs,” I wrote in 2011 as I fearfully gave Heritage a 2/5—disappointing. Not only do I think I probably overrated the album, but I’m no longer afraid that people are going to think I’m just one of those people who think Opeth couldn’t write a good record without growls. So, I’ll be even franker than I was at the time: Heritage is bad. And the frustrations I have with the record are twofold. First, the thing that made Opeth sound like Opeth was the blending of different styles into through-composed tracks that felt utterly seamless. Heritage upended that—though this problem is part of why Watershed ranks as low as it does, too—and instead placed all its bets on an approach to songwriting that feels, nearly 15 years later, just as lazy (or rushed) as it did in 2011. I get this strong sense that Åkerfeldt was using keyboards as an overly expedient way to accomplish what surely took a lot of time on earlier albums; transitioning between disparate ideas that were not written to be played together initially. It’s like Åkerfeldt and Åkesson were just sitting on the studio floor picking riffs out of a hat and then saying to Per: “Yeah, so, just make up something to get us from Point A to Point B.” So while there are, as I said in the original review, excellent parts on Heritage, the whole is so much less than any individual part taken in isolation. Ultimately, Heritage is disjointed. Even if I liked individual songs or moments—I’m a sucker for that Swedish folk feel that they were going for here and have played with since—this album doesn’t stand on its own.2

#12. Sorceress (2016). One of the accusations lodged against critics of post-Watershed Opeth is that anyone who’s critical is just mad that they aren’t playing death metal anymore. While I liked Sorceress quite a bit when it was first released, this album has not aged particularly well in my ears. There are two primary reasons that it’s ended up being a letdown. First, as I pointed out at the time, the production was muddy, and when combined with the band’s “dedication to the blue note,” it ended up feeling like the most intentionally retro album that Opeth has ever released. But second, given that the album is quite angry—and given its ostensible oblique references to Åkerfeldt’s divorce, there’s an angry vibe here—Sorceress is the record where the accusation that critics don’t like it because it’s not death metal feels the most accurate. Moving away from metal makes Newpeth feel toothless at times. While Axe drops double kicks and Åkerfeldt drops Åkeriffs that seem at times reminiscent of the heavier material from Deliverance or Ghost Reveries, they just don’t usually punch through. When the band cranks up the intensity, that dog is all bark and has no bite whatsoever. With that in mind, I would probably downgrade this from very good to good, as I still enjoy it. And when these guys hit peaks—I like “Sorceress” quite a bit, but the real highlight for me is “Chrysalis”—I still enjoy this album. The songwriting is enjoyable, but it doesn’t quite carry with it those qualities that make the best Opeth records the best.

#11. Watershed (2008). Watershed marks the first time that I disliked an Opeth album. While Ghost Reveries took me time to appreciate, Watershed was a record that it has taken me nearly 15 years to come to appreciate. I want to take you back to 2006 when Opeth was on Gigantour. Ghost Reveries had been a huge breakout hit for Roadrunner and Opeth toured like crazy. A friend of mine and I had gone to see Gigantour in Milwaukee and had been given passes by then-guitarist Peter Lindgren. I asked how they were doing, and he told me that they had been touring like crazy, that the band was super tired, and that their label had been pressuring them to get into the studio directly after Gigantour was going to end. He told me that they weren’t ready at all, that they’d had only a couple weeks home, and that there was no way they were going to be able to produce something good with that kind of pressure. Watershed was a spring release in 2008, Opeth played its final show of the Ghost Reveries tour in Italy on the 18th of December, 2006. That means that the Watershed was likely finished in January of 2008,3 giving them less than a one-year turnaround after a grueling schedule in 2005 and 2006, where they played nearly 230 live dates. And I think you can hear it on Watershed.

Watershed sounds (to this day) like a record that was written and produced by a very, very tired Mikael Åkerfeldt. Peter Lindgren, unsurprisingly, left the band in May of 2007, leading to Fredrik Åkesson’s debut on this album. As well, Martin Axenrot joined on drums and despite having played in the band since 2006, had not yet caught up to Lopez’s superb groove and feel. And Watershed sounds rushed. This is the most obvious in the fact that it is loaded with uninteresting, jarring transitions—which I generously referred to as Frippism’s in my review of Sorceress, but which I never found to be as mad or well-conceived as King Crimson. Between the jarring transitions, the studio tricks,4 and the sense that there was just a lack of enthusiasm for death metal throughout, I never understood why Watershed is considered by some Opeth fans to be such a masterpiece. When I initially bought the album, the cover version of “Den ständiga resan” was the song I liked the most. With time, I have softened on Watershed. There are moments of greatness scattered throughout, “Porcelain Heart” was a good single—and I love the clean vocal harmonies before the classic melancholic solo and the acoustic part—and “Burden” was a cock rock song, but it was a good one. I’ve often felt that with another six or nine months to percolate, Watershed would have been a better record.

Mediopeth

#10. Deliverance (2002). It should come as no surprise that Deliverance is now understood to be an album where Opeth was riling in deep drama. Following the huge breakthrough of Blackwater Park, they were on a tight schedule and Åkerfeldt—in an act of supreme hubris—decided he was going to write not one, but two albums. And while that was a choice he could’ve made, it wasn’t a choice he had to make, especially given the kind of quick turnaround that they were on. On top of that, as the story goes, they entered the studio with essentially nothing ready to go. What transpired was an absolute nightmare of a recording session that would wound the band deeply and I have understood from what has been written in other places that it was sort of the beginning of the end of the band’s most iconic lineup.

And yet, Deliverance—while displaying some chinks in the armor for the first time in the band’s career—was still an absolutely wonderful, enjoyable success.5 Spawning classics like the title track—which makes fans squeal like pigs every time Opeth breaks it out—and “Master’s Apprentices,” which in retrospect feels like a preview of the style that Ghost Reveries would perfect, Deliverance was a record that reeked of greatness even when it was the result of one of the most absurd Night before the Test Cram Sessions that the world has ever seen. Being the worst of the band’s best material is a bit like playing in the Champions League,6 no one should doubt that you’re great. Shoutout to the clean part and the melodic solos in “By the Pain I See in Others,” I see you.

#9. In Cauda Venenum (2019). While not Oldpeth, In Cauda Venenum is a tremendous and interesting album of its own accord. Sure, in some ways, it continued the Sorceress journey toward feeling like a band out of time—lots of blues scales and that Bill Ward swing showing up throughout (“De närmast sörjande”). And yet, In Cauda Venenum is just such a thoughtful and fun record. And yes, I suppose that part of that has to do with the fact that I speak Swedish and so I was able to be charmed by the old interviews with Swedish children about God and death, but that’s reductive.7 The reality is that while Sorceress had a hard rock vibe to it, In Cauda Venenum felt like genuine prog; like Opeth was finally getting really good at working in the space that they had been trying to work in since 2011.8 Not only that, I have trouble seeing how people don’t just adore “Hjärtat vet vad handen gör” or “Minnets yta,” which find Opeth flexing muscles that I didn’t know they had. Or “Charlatan” which flexes old muscles in new, unique ways, and feels influential to the direction that The Last Will & Testament went. So, rather than feeling like a modern band making an old style of music, In Cauda Venenum oozes Opeth’s unique voice and charm—and this time, its lyrics weren’t scribbled on toilet paper between guitar takes. That sense of coherence is a feature hard to argue for when records like Watershed contain lyrics like “Do children cry / When mommy dies / And later in their lives / Will they throw their hands to the sky?” or whatever9—is part of what makes it such a strong record. In Cauda Venenum is a great, diverse, and thoughtful record and I think I like it more today than I did in 2019.

El Cuervo

#13. Heritage (2011). Heritage enjoys the dubious honor of being the only Opeth release that I don’t return to at all. Significant volumes of ink have been spilled on the dramatic divestment of death metal on this record, even if it also represented a natural progression onward from the remainder of their discography. Nor do I feel the need to justify my enjoyment of non-metal prog; anyone remotely familiar with my music tastes knows that 70s prog is my musical home ground. Where Heritage falls is in its fragmented songwriting and album flow. One of Opeth’s best qualities is their capacity to write music that feels seamless, even if the transitions are sometimes dramatic. But Heritage introduces variety without harmonization; songs that stand apart from each other and feel less like an album. It sounds more like a compilation of interesting but perverse musical ideas deliberately directed at fans expecting more death metal. It’s by some margin the weakest Opeth album.

#12. In Cauda Venenum (2019). I stand by the 3.0 I bestowed on In Cauda Venenum. It’s one of the most varied albums in the Opeth discography, perversely resulting in one of their least predictable albums at a late point in their career. But while the bottom entry of this ranking overspills from variety for its own sake, In Cauda Venenum offers a smart harmonization of varied sounds, tones, and instruments. Sadly, although Opeth achieve more than most across multiple long albums, this album suffers the worst for this quality as I find it tough to digest in one entire sitting. In an art form where the purpose is for the listener to experience a collection of songs in a particular order and without breaks, I struggle here. I also find it to be less memorable than other Opeth albums. Ask me to hum a tune from this one and I struggle to do so, which consigns it to this position in my ranking.

#11. Sorceress (2016). Never satisfied standing still, Sorceress sees Opeth striking out from a predecessor marked by its dedication to one particular sound (Pale Communion and 70s prog) while nonetheless remaining a natural successor. Åkerfeldt’s trademark approach to progressive rock here finds new bedfellows in blues and Swedish folk, from the fat grooves to the whimsical flutes. This forges a sound that remains unique in the band’s career, especially when presented with production that evokes the band wallowing in a muddy pool. The bubbly bass, robust drums, and bluesy guitars each rely on a warm, fuzzy tone that’s deeply indebted to (non-progressive) 70s rock, almost reaching the heady haze of stoner music. Sorceress doesn’t enjoy equal quality throughout, with clearer highlights and lowlights than most other Opeth albums, but it undoubtedly improves with repetition. And though it may not be my favorite Opeth release, I’ll be damned if it isn’t their best artwork.

#10. My Arms Your Hearse (1998). I suspect there will only be two real surprises on this ranking. The first is where I placed Blackwater Park (“Why is it not at the top you FUCKING IDIOT”). The second is where I’ve placed My Arms Your Hearse. It’s a low-key fan favorite and regarded by many as a crossing point, from Opeth in their rougher, blacker days to Opeth in their tighter, deathier days. It demonstrates the band smoothing over some of the rawer cracks from their earliest material, and compiling their core fusion of extreme metal and progressive rock into the smart, knotty compositions for which they would achieve acclaim. It’s a clear precursor to the band that would come to define progressive extreme metal. And yet it doesn’t stick with me as much as their competing material. It’s bleak and heavy – arguably their heaviest record overall – but hadn’t quite found that perfect blend of lightness to counter-balance their heaviness. It’s just shy of greatness.

#9. Morningrise (1996). While its predecessor Orchid is no stranger to long songs, Morningrise stretched this young band to its limits with expansive, progressive compositions, including the longest song in their discography: the inimitable highlight titled “Black Rose Immortal.” It’s a record with fabulous moments but most tracks become meandering and drawn-out. And despite the general trend towards softer, balanced production through Opeth’s discography, Morningrise has a thinner, reedier texture than Orchid, positioning it closer to black metal than any other Opeth release. As much as I enjoy black metal it doesn’t quite fit their aesthetic for me, even if this texture lends it a unique feel in the band’s catalog. Despite its shortcomings, I still find Morningrise an entrancing experience; the detailed compositions, lengthy songs, and cyclical leads engender a rich atmosphere that feels unlike anything else. It was also the first indicator that Opeth was a band constantly seeking development and I will always commend progression.

#AMGGoesRanking #AMGRankings #BlogPost #Camel #DeathMetal #Goblin #JethroTull #MorbidAngel #Opeth #ProgressiveDeathMetal #ProgressiveRock #StevenWilson #SwedishMetal

Opeth from Worst to Best: 13-9

By Angry Metal Guy

On the 22nd of November, Opeth will release full-length number fourteen—which we have already reviewed, if you have not seen it. We sometimes “go ranking” here at Angry Metal Guy, but in the case of Opeth that just doesn’t convey the profound influence the band has had or the depth of the personal relationship that I—Angry Metal Guy—have with one of Sweden’s greatest metal and progressive bands. It is therefore in the spirit of the Iron Maiden from Worst to Be(a)st that this particular incarnation of the rankings has been conceived. But this time, I have invited El Cuervo to tag along. Enjoy this trip down memory lane. I look forward to fighting with you in the comments.

Angry Metal Guy

For me, Opeth played a major role in my development as a metalhead, as a fan of extreme metal and prog, and, of course, as a guitar player and songwriter. And they’re probably the band aside from Iron Maiden that I have called my favorite band most frequently throughout my life. While my fandom most certainly peaked around Ghost Reveries—having seen the band at least a half dozen times between their first US show at Milwaukee Metalfest and moving to Sweden myself—they continue to play a major role in how I think about music and how I interpret the modern metal scene.

On a personal note, I have also had the privilege of getting to spend time with the band in various ways. The first Swede I ever spoke Swedish to was Peter Lindgren, though I hardly knew a word at the time. I was recommended the absolutely legendary—to the point of being a cultural joke in Sweden—Jazz på svenska by Mikael Åkerfeldt on a bus one time when we were talking about folk metal. I once explored the basement at The Rave in Milwaukee with Fredrik Åkesson (then in Arch Enemy),1 Eric Hersemann (Gigan, ex-Hate Eternal), and my friend, the late Adam Sagan (Witherfall, White Empress, Circle II Circle, among others) on my birthday before I moved to Sweden. Since being in Sweden, I have become friends with the estimable Martin López of Soen, which I never imagined would happen.

All of this is to say that my connections to Opeth both emotionally and musically are stronger than just about any band in the world. That said, I don’t think that I have as nearly a so idiosyncratic view on Opeth as I did on Iron Maiden when I wrote the Worst to Beast posts. Unlike Iron Maiden, I was part of the metal consensus at the time that Opeth was releasing its most iconic material. I was swept away by Blackwater Park and was bummed when they announced that death metal was for losers before releasing Heritage. I have been on this rollercoaster ride in a way that I wasn’t for Maiden. And I love these guys and all the joy their music has given me over the years. Even as I’ve gotten older and more jaded about Åkerfeldt’s schtick, I can remember a time when I could say in all honesty that I could happily put their entire discography on shuffle and I wouldn’t have encountered a bad song. So, this is going to be an interesting exercise.

As usual, I have created tiers. So let’s start with…

Foregopeth

#13. Heritage (2011). “Heritage is full of great riffs and ideas, but not many very good songs,” I wrote in 2011 as I fearfully gave Heritage a 2/5—disappointing. Not only do I think I probably overrated the album, but I’m no longer afraid that people are going to think I’m just one of those people who think Opeth couldn’t write a good record without growls. So, I’ll be even franker than I was at the time: Heritage is bad. And the frustrations I have with the record are twofold. First, the thing that made Opeth sound like Opeth was the blending of different styles into through-composed tracks that felt utterly seamless. Heritage upended that—though this problem is part of why Watershed ranks as low as it does, too—and instead placed all its bets on an approach to songwriting that feels, nearly 15 years later, just as lazy (or rushed) as it did in 2011. I get this strong sense that Åkerfeldt was using keyboards as an overly expedient way to accomplish what surely took a lot of time on earlier albums; transitioning between disparate ideas that were not written to be played together initially. It’s like Åkerfeldt and Åkesson were just sitting on the studio floor picking riffs out of a hat and then saying to Per: “Yeah, so, just make up something to get us from Point A to Point B.” So while there are, as I said in the original review, excellent parts on Heritage, the whole is so much less than any individual part taken in isolation. Ultimately, Heritage is disjointed. Even if I liked individual songs or moments—I’m a sucker for that Swedish folk feel that they were going for here and have played with since—this album doesn’t stand on its own.2

#12. Sorceress (2016). One of the accusations lodged against critics of post-Watershed Opeth is that anyone who’s critical is just mad that they aren’t playing death metal anymore. While I liked Sorceress quite a bit when it was first released, this album has not aged particularly well in my ears. There are two primary reasons that it’s ended up being a letdown. First, as I pointed out at the time, the production was muddy, and when combined with the band’s “dedication to the blue note,” it ended up feeling like the most intentionally retro album that Opeth has ever released. But second, given that the album is quite angry—and given its ostensible oblique references to Åkerfeldt’s divorce, there’s an angry vibe here—Sorceress is the record where the accusation that critics don’t like it because it’s not death metal feels the most accurate. Moving away from metal makes Newpeth feel toothless at times. While Axe drops double kicks and Åkerfeldt drops Åkeriffs that seem at times reminiscent of the heavier material from Deliverance or Ghost Reveries, they just don’t usually punch through. When the band cranks up the intensity, that dog is all bark and has no bite whatsoever. With that in mind, I would probably downgrade this from very good to good, as I still enjoy it. And when these guys hit peaks—I like “Sorceress” quite a bit, but the real highlight for me is “Chrysalis”—I still enjoy this album. The songwriting is enjoyable, but it doesn’t quite carry with it those qualities that make the best Opeth records the best.

#11. Watershed (2008). Watershed marks the first time that I disliked an Opeth album. While Ghost Reveries took me time to appreciate, Watershed was a record that it has taken me nearly 15 years to come to appreciate. I want to take you back to 2006 when Opeth was on Gigantour. Ghost Reveries had been a huge breakout hit for Roadrunner and Opeth toured like crazy. A friend of mine and I had gone to see Gigantour in Milwaukee and had been given passes by then-guitarist Peter Lindgren. I asked how they were doing, and he told me that they had been touring like crazy, that the band was super tired, and that their label had been pressuring them to get into the studio directly after Gigantour was going to end. He told me that they weren’t ready at all, that they’d had only a couple weeks home, and that there was no way they were going to be able to produce something good with that kind of pressure. Watershed was a spring release in 2008, Opeth played its final show of the Ghost Reveries tour in Italy on the 18th of December, 2006. That means that the Watershed was likely finished in January of 2008,3 giving them less than a one-year turnaround after a grueling schedule in 2005 and 2006, where they played nearly 230 live dates. And I think you can hear it on Watershed.

Watershed sounds (to this day) like a record that was written and produced by a very, very tired Mikael Åkerfeldt. Peter Lindgren, unsurprisingly, left the band in May of 2007, leading to Fredrik Åkesson’s debut on this album. As well, Martin Axenrot joined on drums and despite having played in the band since 2006, had not yet caught up to Lopez’s superb groove and feel. And Watershed sounds rushed. This is the most obvious in the fact that it is loaded with uninteresting, jarring transitions—which I generously referred to as Frippism’s in my review of Sorceress, but which I never found to be as mad or well-conceived as King Crimson. Between the jarring transitions, the studio tricks,4 and the sense that there was just a lack of enthusiasm for death metal throughout, I never understood why Watershed is considered by some Opeth fans to be such a masterpiece. When I initially bought the album, the cover version of “Den ständiga resan” was the song I liked the most. With time, I have softened on Watershed. There are moments of greatness scattered throughout, “Porcelain Heart” was a good single—and I love the clean vocal harmonies before the classic melancholic solo and the acoustic part—and “Burden” was a cock rock song, but it was a good one. I’ve often felt that with another six or nine months to percolate, Watershed would have been a better record.

Mediopeth

#10. Deliverance (2002). It should come as no surprise that Deliverance is now understood to be an album where Opeth was riling in deep drama. Following the huge breakthrough of Blackwater Park, they were on a tight schedule and Åkerfeldt—in an act of supreme hubris—decided he was going to write not one, but two albums. And while that was a choice he could’ve made, it wasn’t a choice he had to make, especially given the kind of quick turnaround that they were on. On top of that, as the story goes, they entered the studio with essentially nothing ready to go. What transpired was an absolute nightmare of a recording session that would wound the band deeply and I have understood from what has been written in other places that it was sort of the beginning of the end of the band’s most iconic lineup.

And yet, Deliverance—while displaying some chinks in the armor for the first time in the band’s career—was still an absolutely wonderful, enjoyable success.5 Spawning classics like the title track—which makes fans squeal like pigs every time Opeth breaks it out—and “Master’s Apprentices,” which in retrospect feels like a preview of the style that Ghost Reveries would perfect, Deliverance was a record that reeked of greatness even when it was the result of one of the most absurd Night before the Test Cram Sessions that the world has ever seen. Being the worst of the band’s best material is a bit like playing in the Champions League,6 no one should doubt that you’re great. Shoutout to the clean part and the melodic solos in “By the Pain I See in Others,” I see you.

#9. In Cauda Venenum (2019). While not Oldpeth, In Cauda Venenum is a tremendous and interesting album of its own accord. Sure, in some ways, it continued the Sorceress journey toward feeling like a band out of time—lots of blues scales and that Bill Ward swing showing up throughout (“De närmast sörjande”). And yet, In Cauda Venenum is just such a thoughtful and fun record. And yes, I suppose that part of that has to do with the fact that I speak Swedish and so I was able to be charmed by the old interviews with Swedish children about God and death, but that’s reductive.7 The reality is that while Sorceress had a hard rock vibe to it, In Cauda Venenum felt like genuine prog; like Opeth was finally getting really good at working in the space that they had been trying to work in since 2011.8 Not only that, I have trouble seeing how people don’t just adore “Hjärtat vet vad handen gör” or “Minnets yta,” which find Opeth flexing muscles that I didn’t know they had. Or “Charlatan” which flexes old muscles in new, unique ways, and feels influential to the direction that The Last Will & Testament went. So, rather than feeling like a modern band making an old style of music, In Cauda Venenum oozes Opeth’s unique voice and charm—and this time, its lyrics weren’t scribbled on toilet paper between guitar takes. That sense of coherence is a feature hard to argue for when records like Watershed contain lyrics like “Do children cry / When mommy dies / And later in their lives / Will they throw their hands to the sky?” or whatever9—is part of what makes it such a strong record. In Cauda Venenum is a great, diverse, and thoughtful record and I think I like it more today than I did in 2019.

El Cuervo

#13. Heritage (2011). Heritage enjoys the dubious honor of being the only Opeth release that I don’t return to at all. Significant volumes of ink have been spilled on the dramatic divestment of death metal on this record, even if it also represented a natural progression onward from the remainder of their discography. Nor do I feel the need to justify my enjoyment of non-metal prog; anyone remotely familiar with my music tastes knows that 70s prog is my musical home ground. Where Heritage falls is in its fragmented songwriting and album flow. One of Opeth’s best qualities is their capacity to write music that feels seamless, even if the transitions are sometimes dramatic. But Heritage introduces variety without harmonization; songs that stand apart from each other and feel less like an album. It sounds more like a compilation of interesting but perverse musical ideas deliberately directed at fans expecting more death metal. It’s by some margin the weakest Opeth album.

#12. In Cauda Venenum (2019). I stand by the 3.0 I bestowed on In Cauda Venenum. It’s one of the most varied albums in the Opeth discography, perversely resulting in one of their least predictable albums at a late point in their career. But while the bottom entry of this ranking overspills from variety for its own sake, In Cauda Venenum offers a smart harmonization of varied sounds, tones, and instruments. Sadly, although Opeth achieve more than most across multiple long albums, this album suffers the worst for this quality as I find it tough to digest in one entire sitting. In an art form where the purpose is for the listener to experience a collection of songs in a particular order and without breaks, I struggle here. I also find it to be less memorable than other Opeth albums. Ask me to hum a tune from this one and I struggle to do so, which consigns it to this position in my ranking.

#11. Sorceress (2016). Never satisfied standing still, Sorceress sees Opeth striking out from a predecessor marked by its dedication to one particular sound (Pale Communion and 70s prog) while nonetheless remaining a natural successor. Åkerfeldt’s trademark approach to progressive rock here finds new bedfellows in blues and Swedish folk, from the fat grooves to the whimsical flutes. This forges a sound that remains unique in the band’s career, especially when presented with production that evokes the band wallowing in a muddy pool. The bubbly bass, robust drums, and bluesy guitars each rely on a warm, fuzzy tone that’s deeply indebted to (non-progressive) 70s rock, almost reaching the heady haze of stoner music. Sorceress doesn’t enjoy equal quality throughout, with clearer highlights and lowlights than most other Opeth albums, but it undoubtedly improves with repetition. And though it may not be my favorite Opeth release, I’ll be damned if it isn’t their best artwork.

#10. My Arms Your Hearse (1998). I suspect there will only be two real surprises on this ranking. The first is where I placed Blackwater Park (“Why is it not at the top you FUCKING IDIOT”). The second is where I’ve placed My Arms Your Hearse. It’s a low-key fan favorite and regarded by many as a crossing point, from Opeth in their rougher, blacker days to Opeth in their tighter, deathier days. It demonstrates the band smoothing over some of the rawer cracks from their earliest material, and compiling their core fusion of extreme metal and progressive rock into the smart, knotty compositions for which they would achieve acclaim. It’s a clear precursor to the band that would come to define progressive extreme metal. And yet it doesn’t stick with me as much as their competing material. It’s bleak and heavy – arguably their heaviest record overall – but hadn’t quite found that perfect blend of lightness to counter-balance their heaviness. It’s just shy of greatness.

#9. Morningrise (1996). While its predecessor Orchid is no stranger to long songs, Morningrise stretched this young band to its limits with expansive, progressive compositions, including the longest song in their discography: the inimitable highlight titled “Black Rose Immortal.” It’s a record with fabulous moments but most tracks become meandering and drawn-out. And despite the general trend towards softer, balanced production through Opeth’s discography, Morningrise has a thinner, reedier texture than Orchid, positioning it closer to black metal than any other Opeth release. As much as I enjoy black metal it doesn’t quite fit their aesthetic for me, even if this texture lends it a unique feel in the band’s catalog. Despite its shortcomings, I still find Morningrise an entrancing experience; the detailed compositions, lengthy songs, and cyclical leads engender a rich atmosphere that feels unlike anything else. It was also the first indicator that Opeth was a band constantly seeking development and I will always commend progression.

#AMGGoesRanking #AMGRankings #BlogPost #Camel #DeathMetal #Goblin #JethroTull #MorbidAngel #Opeth #ProgressiveDeathMetal #ProgressiveRock #StevenWilson #SwedishMetal

Opeth from Worst to Best: 13-9

By Angry Metal Guy

On the 22nd of November, Opeth will release full-length number fourteen—which we have already reviewed, if you have not seen it. We sometimes “go ranking” here at Angry Metal Guy, but in the case of Opeth that just doesn’t convey the profound influence the band has had or the depth of the personal relationship that I—Angry Metal Guy—have with one of Sweden’s greatest metal and progressive bands. It is therefore in the spirit of the Iron Maiden from Worst to Be(a)st that this particular incarnation of the rankings has been conceived. But this time, I have invited El Cuervo to tag along. Enjoy this trip down memory lane. I look forward to fighting with you in the comments.

Angry Metal Guy

For me, Opeth played a major role in my development as a metalhead, as a fan of extreme metal and prog, and, of course, as a guitar player and songwriter. And they’re probably the band aside from Iron Maiden that I have called my favorite band most frequently throughout my life. While my fandom most certainly peaked around Ghost Reveries—having seen the band at least a half dozen times between their first US show at Milwaukee Metalfest and moving to Sweden myself—they continue to play a major role in how I think about music and how I interpret the modern metal scene.

On a personal note, I have also had the privilege of getting to spend time with the band in various ways. The first Swede I ever spoke Swedish to was Peter Lindgren, though I hardly knew a word at the time. I was recommended the absolutely legendary—to the point of being a cultural joke in Sweden—Jazz på svenska by Mikael Åkerfeldt on a bus one time when we were talking about folk metal. I once explored the basement at The Rave in Milwaukee with Fredrik Åkesson (then in Arch Enemy),1 Eric Hersemann (Gigan, ex-Hate Eternal), and my friend, the late Adam Sagan (Witherfall, White Empress, Circle II Circle, among others) on my birthday before I moved to Sweden. Since being in Sweden, I have become friends with the estimable Martin López of Soen, which I never imagined would happen.

All of this is to say that my connections to Opeth both emotionally and musically are stronger than just about any band in the world. That said, I don’t think that I have as nearly a so idiosyncratic view on Opeth as I did on Iron Maiden when I wrote the Worst to Beast posts. Unlike Iron Maiden, I was part of the metal consensus at the time that Opeth was releasing its most iconic material. I was swept away by Blackwater Park and was bummed when they announced that death metal was for losers before releasing Heritage. I have been on this rollercoaster ride in a way that I wasn’t for Maiden. And I love these guys and all the joy their music has given me over the years. Even as I’ve gotten older and more jaded about Åkerfeldt’s schtick, I can remember a time when I could say in all honesty that I could happily put their entire discography on shuffle and I wouldn’t have encountered a bad song. So, this is going to be an interesting exercise.

As usual, I have created tiers. So let’s start with…

Foregopeth

#13. Heritage (2011). “Heritage is full of great riffs and ideas, but not many very good songs,” I wrote in 2011 as I fearfully gave Heritage a 2/5—disappointing. Not only do I think I probably overrated the album, but I’m no longer afraid that people are going to think I’m just one of those people who think Opeth couldn’t write a good record without growls. So, I’ll be even franker than I was at the time: Heritage is bad. And the frustrations I have with the record are twofold. First, the thing that made Opeth sound like Opeth was the blending of different styles into through-composed tracks that felt utterly seamless. Heritage upended that—though this problem is part of why Watershed ranks as low as it does, too—and instead placed all its bets on an approach to songwriting that feels, nearly 15 years later, just as lazy (or rushed) as it did in 2011. I get this strong sense that Åkerfeldt was using keyboards as an overly expedient way to accomplish what surely took a lot of time on earlier albums; transitioning between disparate ideas that were not written to be played together initially. It’s like Åkerfeldt and Åkesson were just sitting on the studio floor picking riffs out of a hat and then saying to Per: “Yeah, so, just make up something to get us from Point A to Point B.” So while there are, as I said in the original review, excellent parts on Heritage, the whole is so much less than any individual part taken in isolation. Ultimately, Heritage is disjointed. Even if I liked individual songs or moments—I’m a sucker for that Swedish folk feel that they were going for here and have played with since—this album doesn’t stand on its own.2

#12. Sorceress (2016). One of the accusations lodged against critics of post-Watershed Opeth is that anyone who’s critical is just mad that they aren’t playing death metal anymore. While I liked Sorceress quite a bit when it was first released, this album has not aged particularly well in my ears. There are two primary reasons that it’s ended up being a letdown. First, as I pointed out at the time, the production was muddy, and when combined with the band’s “dedication to the blue note,” it ended up feeling like the most intentionally retro album that Opeth has ever released. But second, given that the album is quite angry—and given its ostensible oblique references to Åkerfeldt’s divorce, there’s an angry vibe here—Sorceress is the record where the accusation that critics don’t like it because it’s not death metal feels the most accurate. Moving away from metal makes Newpeth feel toothless at times. While Axe drops double kicks and Åkerfeldt drops Åkeriffs that seem at times reminiscent of the heavier material from Deliverance or Ghost Reveries, they just don’t usually punch through. When the band cranks up the intensity, that dog is all bark and has no bite whatsoever. With that in mind, I would probably downgrade this from very good to good, as I still enjoy it. And when these guys hit peaks—I like “Sorceress” quite a bit, but the real highlight for me is “Chrysalis”—I still enjoy this album. The songwriting is enjoyable, but it doesn’t quite carry with it those qualities that make the best Opeth records the best.

#11. Watershed (2008). Watershed marks the first time that I disliked an Opeth album. While Ghost Reveries took me time to appreciate, Watershed was a record that it has taken me nearly 15 years to come to appreciate. I want to take you back to 2006 when Opeth was on Gigantour. Ghost Reveries had been a huge breakout hit for Roadrunner and Opeth toured like crazy. A friend of mine and I had gone to see Gigantour in Milwaukee and had been given passes by then-guitarist Peter Lindgren. I asked how they were doing, and he told me that they had been touring like crazy, that the band was super tired, and that their label had been pressuring them to get into the studio directly after Gigantour was going to end. He told me that they weren’t ready at all, that they’d had only a couple weeks home, and that there was no way they were going to be able to produce something good with that kind of pressure. Watershed was a spring release in 2008, Opeth played its final show of the Ghost Reveries tour in Italy on the 18th of December, 2006. That means that the Watershed was likely finished in January of 2008,3 giving them less than a one-year turnaround after a grueling schedule in 2005 and 2006, where they played nearly 230 live dates. And I think you can hear it on Watershed.

Watershed sounds (to this day) like a record that was written and produced by a very, very tired Mikael Åkerfeldt. Peter Lindgren, unsurprisingly, left the band in May of 2007, leading to Fredrik Åkesson’s debut on this album. As well, Martin Axenrot joined on drums and despite having played in the band since 2006, had not yet caught up to Lopez’s superb groove and feel. And Watershed sounds rushed. This is the most obvious in the fact that it is loaded with uninteresting, jarring transitions—which I generously referred to as Frippism’s in my review of Sorceress, but which I never found to be as mad or well-conceived as King Crimson. Between the jarring transitions, the studio tricks,4 and the sense that there was just a lack of enthusiasm for death metal throughout, I never understood why Watershed is considered by some Opeth fans to be such a masterpiece. When I initially bought the album, the cover version of “Den ständiga resan” was the song I liked the most. With time, I have softened on Watershed. There are moments of greatness scattered throughout, “Porcelain Heart” was a good single—and I love the clean vocal harmonies before the classic melancholic solo and the acoustic part—and “Burden” was a cock rock song, but it was a good one. I’ve often felt that with another six or nine months to percolate, Watershed would have been a better record.

Mediopeth

#10. Deliverance (2002). It should come as no surprise that Deliverance is now understood to be an album where Opeth was riling in deep drama. Following the huge breakthrough of Blackwater Park, they were on a tight schedule and Åkerfeldt—in an act of supreme hubris—decided he was going to write not one, but two albums. And while that was a choice he could’ve made, it wasn’t a choice he had to make, especially given the kind of quick turnaround that they were on. On top of that, as the story goes, they entered the studio with essentially nothing ready to go. What transpired was an absolute nightmare of a recording session that would wound the band deeply and I have understood from what has been written in other places that it was sort of the beginning of the end of the band’s most iconic lineup.

And yet, Deliverance—while displaying some chinks in the armor for the first time in the band’s career—was still an absolutely wonderful, enjoyable success.5 Spawning classics like the title track—which makes fans squeal like pigs every time Opeth breaks it out—and “Master’s Apprentices,” which in retrospect feels like a preview of the style that Ghost Reveries would perfect, Deliverance was a record that reeked of greatness even when it was the result of one of the most absurd Night before the Test Cram Sessions that the world has ever seen. Being the worst of the band’s best material is a bit like playing in the Champions League,6 no one should doubt that you’re great. Shoutout to the clean part and the melodic solos in “By the Pain I See in Others,” I see you.

#9. In Cauda Venenum (2019). While not Oldpeth, In Cauda Venenum is a tremendous and interesting album of its own accord. Sure, in some ways, it continued the Sorceress journey toward feeling like a band out of time—lots of blues scales and that Bill Ward swing showing up throughout (“De närmast sörjande”). And yet, In Cauda Venenum is just such a thoughtful and fun record. And yes, I suppose that part of that has to do with the fact that I speak Swedish and so I was able to be charmed by the old interviews with Swedish children about God and death, but that’s reductive.7 The reality is that while Sorceress had a hard rock vibe to it, In Cauda Venenum felt like genuine prog; like Opeth was finally getting really good at working in the space that they had been trying to work in since 2011.8 Not only that, I have trouble seeing how people don’t just adore “Hjärtat vet vad handen gör” or “Minnets yta,” which find Opeth flexing muscles that I didn’t know they had. Or “Charlatan” which flexes old muscles in new, unique ways, and feels influential to the direction that The Last Will & Testament went. So, rather than feeling like a modern band making an old style of music, In Cauda Venenum oozes Opeth’s unique voice and charm—and this time, its lyrics weren’t scribbled on toilet paper between guitar takes. That sense of coherence is a feature hard to argue for when records like Watershed contain lyrics like “Do children cry / When mommy dies / And later in their lives / Will they throw their hands to the sky?” or whatever9—is part of what makes it such a strong record. In Cauda Venenum is a great, diverse, and thoughtful record and I think I like it more today than I did in 2019.

El Cuervo

#13. Heritage (2011). Heritage enjoys the dubious honor of being the only Opeth release that I don’t return to at all. Significant volumes of ink have been spilled on the dramatic divestment of death metal on this record, even if it also represented a natural progression onward from the remainder of their discography. Nor do I feel the need to justify my enjoyment of non-metal prog; anyone remotely familiar with my music tastes knows that 70s prog is my musical home ground. Where Heritage falls is in its fragmented songwriting and album flow. One of Opeth’s best qualities is their capacity to write music that feels seamless, even if the transitions are sometimes dramatic. But Heritage introduces variety without harmonization; songs that stand apart from each other and feel less like an album. It sounds more like a compilation of interesting but perverse musical ideas deliberately directed at fans expecting more death metal. It’s by some margin the weakest Opeth album.

#12. In Cauda Venenum (2019). I stand by the 3.0 I bestowed on In Cauda Venenum. It’s one of the most varied albums in the Opeth discography, perversely resulting in one of their least predictable albums at a late point in their career. But while the bottom entry of this ranking overspills from variety for its own sake, In Cauda Venenum offers a smart harmonization of varied sounds, tones, and instruments. Sadly, although Opeth achieve more than most across multiple long albums, this album suffers the worst for this quality as I find it tough to digest in one entire sitting. In an art form where the purpose is for the listener to experience a collection of songs in a particular order and without breaks, I struggle here. I also find it to be less memorable than other Opeth albums. Ask me to hum a tune from this one and I struggle to do so, which consigns it to this position in my ranking.

#11. Sorceress (2016). Never satisfied standing still, Sorceress sees Opeth striking out from a predecessor marked by its dedication to one particular sound (Pale Communion and 70s prog) while nonetheless remaining a natural successor. Åkerfeldt’s trademark approach to progressive rock here finds new bedfellows in blues and Swedish folk, from the fat grooves to the whimsical flutes. This forges a sound that remains unique in the band’s career, especially when presented with production that evokes the band wallowing in a muddy pool. The bubbly bass, robust drums, and bluesy guitars each rely on a warm, fuzzy tone that’s deeply indebted to (non-progressive) 70s rock, almost reaching the heady haze of stoner music. Sorceress doesn’t enjoy equal quality throughout, with clearer highlights and lowlights than most other Opeth albums, but it undoubtedly improves with repetition. And though it may not be my favorite Opeth release, I’ll be damned if it isn’t their best artwork.

#10. My Arms Your Hearse (1998). I suspect there will only be two real surprises on this ranking. The first is where I placed Blackwater Park (“Why is it not at the top you FUCKING IDIOT”). The second is where I’ve placed My Arms Your Hearse. It’s a low-key fan favorite and regarded by many as a crossing point, from Opeth in their rougher, blacker days to Opeth in their tighter, deathier days. It demonstrates the band smoothing over some of the rawer cracks from their earliest material, and compiling their core fusion of extreme metal and progressive rock into the smart, knotty compositions for which they would achieve acclaim. It’s a clear precursor to the band that would come to define progressive extreme metal. And yet it doesn’t stick with me as much as their competing material. It’s bleak and heavy – arguably their heaviest record overall – but hadn’t quite found that perfect blend of lightness to counter-balance their heaviness. It’s just shy of greatness.

#9. Morningrise (1996). While its predecessor Orchid is no stranger to long songs, Morningrise stretched this young band to its limits with expansive, progressive compositions, including the longest song in their discography: the inimitable highlight titled “Black Rose Immortal.” It’s a record with fabulous moments but most tracks become meandering and drawn-out. And despite the general trend towards softer, balanced production through Opeth’s discography, Morningrise has a thinner, reedier texture than Orchid, positioning it closer to black metal than any other Opeth release. As much as I enjoy black metal it doesn’t quite fit their aesthetic for me, even if this texture lends it a unique feel in the band’s catalog. Despite its shortcomings, I still find Morningrise an entrancing experience; the detailed compositions, lengthy songs, and cyclical leads engender a rich atmosphere that feels unlike anything else. It was also the first indicator that Opeth was a band constantly seeking development and I will always commend progression.

#AMGGoesRanking #AMGRankings #BlogPost #Camel #DeathMetal #Goblin #JethroTull #MorbidAngel #Opeth #ProgressiveDeathMetal #ProgressiveRock #StevenWilson #SwedishMetal

AMG Goes Ranking – The Black Dahlia Murder

By Dolphin Whisperer

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 nay, a Google FORM 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…

The Black Dahlia Murder is a band I’ve had the honor of watching develop throughout its entire career. With its debut in 2003, an album that I think stands up much better than the chuckleheads below, the Michigan melodic death metal act has been with me for twenty years. I saw them opening for bands before anyone knew who they were, and I was buying each new release on release day. In 2024, The Black Dahlia Murder faces new challenges, moving on from the tragic loss of vocalist and scene giant Trevor Strnad and they will release Servitude on the 27th of September (that’s tomorrow, yes). So, before I unleash my Very Important Opinions™ on the world about the new full-length LP, we thought that a romp through the band’s discography seemed in order. Note that anyone who tells you that Ritual isn’t their best album is lying to you. – Angry Metal Guy

The Ranking(s)

Dr. Wvrm

#9. Unhallowed (2002). At first glance, you would be forgiven for thinking Unhallowed is by a completely different band. This album is three kids standing on each other’s shoulders and wearing a trench coat next to the other records in this catalog. But despite how far TBDM still has to go from this point, Unhallowed has its positives. Its take on 90s Gothenburg is interesting, if not always good, and it certainly doesn’t lack energy. “Elder Misanthropy” is the first entry into the pantheon of all-time TBDM jams, even if it’s a messy one. It’s a long way up from here for the boys from Michigan, but you can clearly see the seeds of what’s to come in this debut.

#8. Verminous (2020). That Verminous is the low point of modern TBDM despite being pretty good says quite a lot about the level of output this band has maintained for the last 20 years. The album maintains the reflexive phase started by Abysmal (more on that in a bit), feeling more like a down-and-dirty expansion of their ideas on Everblack at times. The execution, however, falls further down than I’d like. For a band with bangers aplenty, Verminous never finds its bonafide hit and feels stuck in first gear.

#7. Abysmal (2015). Don’t get me wrong—Abysmal features some of the strongest fretwork in TBDM’s catalog (with Ryan Knight still on board at this point, who is surprised by this?). But coming at the tail of an incredible four-album run, Abysmal’s return to hyperkinetic hooks and solos begins a third phase in the band’s catalog. Instead of pushing onward and outward from the progressive attitude of Everblack, TBDM refocuses and uses the lessons learned throughout their years of experimentation to revitalize their core sound. As a result, Abysmal feels more like a transition record between eras than anything else. In theory, it’s not doing too much differently from Deflorate, and unfortunately feels a bit stale by comparison. TBDM would find a way around the all-been-done-before feel by their next album, but with Abysmal, the retread weighs a bit heavier than you’d like.

#6. Miasma (2005). Miasma demonstrates instant growth over TBDM’s debut. If Unhallowed was a rough attempt at mid-90s melodeath, Miasma surges forward to the turn-of-the-century fusion of melodic death metal and mainstream metalcore production.1 Though they wouldn’t stick with this sound for long, there’s so much across Miasma to like, from the cleaner production and maturing songwriting to the charisma that is now starting to bleed through every facet of the music. Strnad’s famous dual vocals really come into their own here, and the rest of the performances aren’t far behind. Though there’s still one piece of the puzzle remaining, you can see the full picture starting to resolve.

#5. Deflorate (2009). This album proved not only that TBDM wasn’t a one-album wonder, but that they also weren’t a one-trick pony. Ryan Knight joined the band from Arsis and overnight launched TBDM’s lead guitar capabilities into the stratosphere. But what looked like Nocturnal on nitro on its face sees, under the hood, Brian Eschbach’s songwriting quietly started to push the boundaries of the band’s imagination and capacity. Closer “I Will Return” veers hard left from everything to that point, touching on patient development and melodic progressions in a way that we could have only guessed TBDM was capable of (“Warborn”). It may lack the highs of some other records, but Deflorate is where TBDM started to show the depths of their abilities.

#4. Everblack (2013). Those of you who know I love TBDM know why I love TBDM,2 and what I want isn’t in steady supply on Everblack. What is, however, is perhaps the pinnacle of TBDM’s exploratory songwriting and certainly the heights of Knight’s solo abilities (“Into the Everblack”). Everblack is a grower in a catalog of showers, operating in many ways like a prog death album in its attention to detail and willingness to fiddle with genre conventions. It’s also Strnad at his most diverse, leading an excellent full-ensemble performance from melodeath to straight death to black metal and back again. My personal predilection for beeg boi melojams is the only reason this isn’t placing higher on this list; on an objective quality scale, Everblack is aces.

#3. Ritual (2011). Now we’re talking. Everything up to this point had something holding it back for me, be it concept, style, or execution. Ritual is the first record on this list where any quibbles I have are so minor as to be unmentionable. Delivering on the promise of “I Will Return,” Ritual ain’t afraid to get a little weird. Off-kilter takes like “Den of the Picquerist” are exotic curios from a faraway land next to two prior records that spent 95% of their runtime turning your ass into tenderized steak. Here, a more interesting weapon of choice filters into the core proceedings of the record, with offerings like “On Stirring Seas of Salted Blood” providing the perfect chaser to the moonshine shot of “Moonlight Equilibrium.” This is the band’s most complete offering, giving you a taste of everything TBDM has dreamt up over their career, and I venture that Ritual would be one (or two!) spot(s) on this list higher… if I weren’t such a weenie.3

#2. Nightbringers (2017). But I am such a weenie.4 Is Nightbringers effectively Nocturnal with the world’s greatest spit shine? Sure is, and cui gives a shit? It’s got the most polished bow on it you’ll ever see. If you like riffs, and if you like hooks, and if you like them at the same time and in copious quantities, Nightbringers is all you’ll ever need. TBDM poured fifteen years of hard-won lessons and honed songcraft into revitalizing one of the most well-loved and well-regarded (by people with taste) albums in the genre. As such, it feels fresh and new and worth every second of your time, rather than like a lazy nostalgia mine. Most bands would be so lucky as to ape a classic album half as well as this, let alone have it be their own classic album. Speaking of…

#1. Nocturnal (2007). Simply put, Nocturnal is TBDM. This record is the culmination of every moment before it, to where every moment traces back. It was an instant star-maker at the time and a bonafide classic in hindsight. At the core of the band, when you strip off the years of experience and experimentation, the one constant is this sound. Like no other band, TBDM reclaimed the ’90s Swedeath buzzsaw riff and forged it anew in a bloodbath of nitro, horror-movie worship, and unfailing self-seriousness. As Nocturnal unfurls, each track seems certain to be impossible to top, only for the very next entry to do just that. Trying to pick just one Nocturnal song for a playlist (like the one below) invites an hour of “Well wait, what about…” That might not be the best reason to put an album (or two!) ahead of what is an unquestionably more well-rounded entry in Ritual, but it’s certainly the best reason to consider it among your favorite albums more than fifteen years later.

Dolphin Murderer

I don’t typically consider myself a fan of melodeath at large. But select acts that rest on what I would consider the more intense and/or techy side, Intestine Baalism, Arsis, Quo Vadis, Neuraxis, Anata, really grease my grumpy gears. And, among those, naturally, rests the oft-imitated, not quite-matched American giant The Black Dahlia Murder. I didn’t explore their catalog as they were first coming to light as I wasn’t allowed to. You see, I fancied myself a metalhead and all the -core kiddies liked bad music like Darkest Hour, All That Remains, Trivium, and The Black Dahlia Murder. So it took until sometime in my early 20s, sometime around Ritual, to even consider hitting this hallowed act. All because a cute girl with a forked tongue happened to be in my college public speaking class and wearing a sick The Black Dahlia Murder tee. Turns out she wasn’t into dudes. But I lucked into a different partner out of it all, one with sick riffs and vocal prowess that causes newcomers to think that these Michigan boys have two vocalists.

Riff in peace, Trevor.

#9. Unhallowed (2002). Armed equally with the weight of Carcass low-end harmonies and At the Gates Björriffs, TBDM hit the ground running with a gluttonous, thrash-loaded, melodeath pittin’ spree. This debut Unhallowed couldn’t have been more emblematic of the consistency that TBDM would embody throughout their career. As the start of a sound that would become part of the heavy metal dialogue, it’s really almost there in terms of quality. Strnad may not sound as comfortable in his shriek ‘em high and rattle ‘em low vocal attack, but with riffs as nasty as the latchkey turndown of “Closed Casket Reqiuem” and “Hymn for the Wretched,” he doesn’t always need to be the focus.

#8. Verminous (2020). Despite this release being the most recent of the bunch, it is also the one I recalled the least going into this ranking. When Verminous came to be it landed on my ears as a disappointment, though not necessarily a bad record. Frankly, I don’t think TBDM is capable of that. However, Verminous takes risks that other albums haven’t taken, like turning the classical lower-tuned harmonic riffs and scooping them closer to true thrash tones. Simultaneously, this allows stringslinger Brandon Ellis’ treble-focused leads to play about in a fashion that tiptoes the line between power metal cheese and melodeath flamboyance (“Godlessly,” “Removal of the Oaken Stake”). Couple that with Strnad essentially rapping at a couple of points (primarily in the percussive bounce of “How Very Dead”), and you’ve got a solid album after all with a few new wrinkles.

#7. Abysmal (2015). Similarly to Verminous, Abysmal crawls about specific production choices that highlight lead guitarist Ryan Knight’s neoclassical, virtuosic warbling. Namely, it’s louder and thrashier. While the album that came before it, Everblack, never wanted for more shred, its rhythm-focused drive—a more death metal-focused TBDM stance—did not allow sonic space for Abysmal’s inclusion of additional instruments like cellos and violins to have a place amongst the assault. Furthermore, with the increased focus on Knight’s playful prowess, each song includes easy-to-recognize marks of differentiation, whether it be a snappy intro (“Receipt,” “Abysmal”), a wicked solo (every song), or a Strnad-led crusher (“Re-Faced,” “The Advent”). It’s hard to get too much of Knight, Strnad, or TBDM when they’re this fun and tight.

#6. Everblack (2013). If you’re approximately my age, then certainly you’ve heard cries of TBDM ”not being metal” or “being metalcore.” Did you know that Metal Archives doesn’t even list metalcore as a past iteration of their sound?5 Well, if nothing to this point had convinced you, then Everblack would be the one to listen to. Listen, I’m not going to sit here and say you should like TBDM, but with Morbid Angel riffs crushing through slower-than-blast pace numbers (“Into the Everblack,” “Phantom Limb Masturbation”), bass rattle that won’t quick, and Ryan Knight still doing that “is he Yngwie or Greg Howe” shred to fusion-y blues thing, Everblack gives plenty of reasons why you TBDM is a death metal act first. Though the album starts a touch slow and runs long for an experience that subsists almost solely on riffs, it’s very hard to say that anything should go away. Just carve a little more time if you’re gonna jam this one.

#5. Deflorate (2009). Representing the ultimate crystallization of the TBDM sound to this point in their history, Deflorate is an absolutely consistent experience. In different hands, hands that have trouble crafting good songs, that might be an issue. But sticking true to the TBDM formula of harmonic overload, At the Gates / early-Carcass riffs, and Strnad giving a performance that no vocalist could match in this lane, Deflorate is also an easy-to-enjoy success. Notably, this is Ryan Knight’s first appearance (fresh from a stint with melotech legends in their own right, Arsis) at the helm of lead shred duties, which allows Deflorate to have a quality of guitar heroism that no album prior quite had. That’s not to say that past leadwork was subpar by any stretch, but when you hear the elegance of play on tracks like “Necropolis” or “Christ Deformed” against any of the solo breaks that came before them, it’s a whole different ball game. Ryan Knight kills it and keeps Deflorate from being just another riff-rippin’ TBDM album.

#4. Miasma (2005). From a very base stance, Miasma isn’t all too different in attack from the debut. But having already done it once at full-length, and even more on the road, TBDM took huge steps in the polish and tightening of their identity. In particular, the man, the myth, the legend Trevor Strnad steps into his role as the intensifier of already heavy-handed riffs with rolled snarls, bestial lows, and off-the-rails shriek sermons. From the lift-off of “Flies” to the narrative froth of “Dave Goes to Hollywood” to the artistic crackling of “Spite Suicide,” not a moment rings through where Strnad isn’t threatening the mic with a barely held-together glottal assault. I’ve noted on later-era albums that the acquired talents provided an extra panache to an already solid formula. Miasma, in its rawer and younger character, succeeds not through being smart and tidy but by executing TBDM’s vision of melodic death metal to the scraped limits of their abilities at the time.

#3. Nightbringers (2017). If Miasma sold the young and tattered vision that TBDM had of At the Gates riffs with campy and horror-tinged vignettes, Nightbringers sells the wiser version of it kissed by the fresh virtuosity of then-fledgling shredmeister Brandon Ellis. No riff wastes any time launching songs into chunked harmony, barked fury, and blistering solo-land. And despite the number of Björriff-forward tunes that TBDM has cranked over the years, each song here lands with its own weighty identity. Part of that is through Ellis’ neoclassically-cranked excursions that carry as much energy as any melodeath groove (“Kings of the Nightworld,” “As Good as Dead”). And, as with any TBDM outing, Strnad rips maniacally through macabre narratives with a brutal ease that possesses a memorability all its own (“Of God and Serpent, of Spectre and Snake,” “Catacomb Hecatomb” in particular). Truth be told, I’ve also spent more time with this album than any other in the TBDM catalog. When I acquired it, I was on the road more than any other time in my life, and this collection of melodeath bangers was my go-to on a sunless morning commute,6 where my weary eyes needed adrenaline to persevere. Nightbringers gives a dose that doesn’t quit until the last note.

#2. Nocturnal (2007). As much as I (and all the others here) have said the name At the Gates or Björriff7—a fate inescapable from simply the opening classic chord crush of “Everything Went Black”—it’s really the sneaking, tremolo groove Morbid Angel influence that rolls my eyes back on these hardest-hitting early TBDM numbers. This hefty American influence on the hooky and nimble Swedish sound allows monsters like “What a Horrible Night to Have a Curse” and “Of Darkness Spawned” to land with equal parts thrashy tumble and melodic sting. The addition of budding kit talent Shannon Lucas (ex-All That Remains) provides all the machine gun and tom-chattering rhythmic foundation for TBDM to excel in this realization of their early potential. Melodeath doesn’t get much more addictive than this…

#1. Ritual (2011). Well, at least melodeath doesn’t get more addictive than this until Ritual. But the craving that results from this crowning moment isn’t one of riff-indulgence, of fretboard mystery (okay, it is all of those things). Ritual has an atmosphere. The simple placement of dramatic cello lines at the onset signals a moodiness that continues through tones more bass-loaded and balanced than other efforts. I hate to praise engineer Jason Suecof for his work here as he ruined plenty of albums around this time.8 But everything here just works—the cut-ins to Knight’s wobbling and unpredictable axe action, the many layers of Strnad crisscrossing and connecting at group chants and shouts, the low-end weight which even propels the elevated basics d-beat ripping of “Den of the Picquerist.” Continuing to alternate between the Björriff, a churning groove, and a growing hyper-melodic attitude (“The Window”), TBDM finds more ways to hook with the same tools they’ve always had while adding subtle new elements. It’s eerie to listen to “Blood in the Ink” these days, though. Between the added tension of discordant violin lines, further swirling string accompaniment, and its all too real theme of ritual suicide, the foreboding closer is easily one of the best songs The Black Dahlia Murder ever penned. Ritual fades away in the closing echo of “Suicide is the only way out.” And it hurts. It hurt then because that kind of mental trap exists, and it hurts now because art and reality often reflect each other in the scariest and worst of ways. That intersection can breed great art though, and Ritual will live that truth so long as metalheads have ears.

Angry Metal Guy Staff Ranking

We’ve once again used our tallying magic to use a complex point system based on submitted rankings. Thank you to the staff who could offer opinions without words. You are treasured and valuable.9

#9. Verminous (2020)
#8. Unhallowed (2003)
#7. Abysmal (2015)
#6. Everblack (2013)
#3T. Deflorate (2009)
#3T. Miasma (2005)
#3T. Nightbringers (2017)
#2. Ritual (2011)
#1. Nocturnal (2007)

Angry Metal Discord Pile o’ Entitled Opinions

We did the same thing for our Discord users. They smell funny, but wouldn’t you know it, they like The Black Dahlia Murder too! Hopefully, you don’t agree more with this bunch though…

#9. Verminous (2020)
#8. Unhallowed (2003)
#7. Miasma (2005)
#6. Deflorate (2009)
#5. Abysmal (2015)
#4. Nightbringers (2017)
#3. Ritual (2011)
#2. Nocturnal (2007)
#1. Everblack (2013)

And what would this all be without a staff-curated playlist to accompany the celebra¬tion? Get to know The Black Dahlia Murder before their upcoming release Servitude, out September 27th, 2024 on Metal Blade Records.

#2003 #2005 #2007 #2009 #2011 #2013 #2015 #2017 #2020 #AmericanMetal #AMGGoesRanking #AMGRankings #Arsis #AtTheGates #Carcass #Carnosus #DeathMetal #MelodicDeathMetal #MorbidAngel #TheBlackDahliaMurder #TrevorStrnad #Xoth

AMG Goes Ranking – The Black Dahlia Murder

By Dolphin Whisperer

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 nay, a Google FORM 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…

The Black Dahlia Murder is a band I’ve had the honor of watching develop throughout its entire career. With its debut in 2003, an album that I think stands up much better than the chuckleheads below, the Michigan melodic death metal act has been with me for twenty years. I saw them opening for bands before anyone knew who they were, and I was buying each new release on release day. In 2024, The Black Dahlia Murder faces new challenges, moving on from the tragic loss of vocalist and scene giant Trevor Strnad and they will release Servitude on the 27th of September (that’s tomorrow, yes). So, before I unleash my Very Important Opinions™ on the world about the new full-length LP, we thought that a romp through the band’s discography seemed in order. Note that anyone who tells you that Ritual isn’t their best album is lying to you. – Angry Metal Guy

The Ranking(s)

Dr. Wvrm

#9. Unhallowed (2002). At first glance, you would be forgiven for thinking Unhallowed is by a completely different band. This album is three kids standing on each other’s shoulders and wearing a trench coat next to the other records in this catalog. But despite how far TBDM still has to go from this point, Unhallowed has its positives. Its take on 90s Gothenburg is interesting, if not always good, and it certainly doesn’t lack energy. “Elder Misanthropy” is the first entry into the pantheon of all-time TBDM jams, even if it’s a messy one. It’s a long way up from here for the boys from Michigan, but you can clearly see the seeds of what’s to come in this debut.

#8. Verminous (2020). That Verminous is the low point of modern TBDM despite being pretty good says quite a lot about the level of output this band has maintained for the last 20 years. The album maintains the reflexive phase started by Abysmal (more on that in a bit), feeling more like a down-and-dirty expansion of their ideas on Everblack at times. The execution, however, falls further down than I’d like. For a band with bangers aplenty, Verminous never finds its bonafide hit and feels stuck in first gear.

#7. Abysmal (2015). Don’t get me wrong—Abysmal features some of the strongest fretwork in TBDM’s catalog (with Ryan Knight still on board at this point, who is surprised by this?). But coming at the tail of an incredible four-album run, Abysmal’s return to hyperkinetic hooks and solos begins a third phase in the band’s catalog. Instead of pushing onward and outward from the progressive attitude of Everblack, TBDM refocuses and uses the lessons learned throughout their years of experimentation to revitalize their core sound. As a result, Abysmal feels more like a transition record between eras than anything else. In theory, it’s not doing too much differently from Deflorate, and unfortunately feels a bit stale by comparison. TBDM would find a way around the all-been-done-before feel by their next album, but with Abysmal, the retread weighs a bit heavier than you’d like.

#6. Miasma (2005). Miasma demonstrates instant growth over TBDM’s debut. If Unhallowed was a rough attempt at mid-90s melodeath, Miasma surges forward to the turn-of-the-century fusion of melodic death metal and mainstream metalcore production.1 Though they wouldn’t stick with this sound for long, there’s so much across Miasma to like, from the cleaner production and maturing songwriting to the charisma that is now starting to bleed through every facet of the music. Strnad’s famous dual vocals really come into their own here, and the rest of the performances aren’t far behind. Though there’s still one piece of the puzzle remaining, you can see the full picture starting to resolve.

#5. Deflorate (2009). This album proved not only that TBDM wasn’t a one-album wonder, but that they also weren’t a one-trick pony. Ryan Knight joined the band from Arsis and overnight launched TBDM’s lead guitar capabilities into the stratosphere. But what looked like Nocturnal on nitro on its face sees, under the hood, Brian Eschbach’s songwriting quietly started to push the boundaries of the band’s imagination and capacity. Closer “I Will Return” veers hard left from everything to that point, touching on patient development and melodic progressions in a way that we could have only guessed TBDM was capable of (“Warborn”). It may lack the highs of some other records, but Deflorate is where TBDM started to show the depths of their abilities.

#4. Everblack (2013). Those of you who know I love TBDM know why I love TBDM,2 and what I want isn’t in steady supply on Everblack. What is, however, is perhaps the pinnacle of TBDM’s exploratory songwriting and certainly the heights of Knight’s solo abilities (“Into the Everblack”). Everblack is a grower in a catalog of showers, operating in many ways like a prog death album in its attention to detail and willingness to fiddle with genre conventions. It’s also Strnad at his most diverse, leading an excellent full-ensemble performance from melodeath to straight death to black metal and back again. My personal predilection for beeg boi melojams is the only reason this isn’t placing higher on this list; on an objective quality scale, Everblack is aces.

#3. Ritual (2011). Now we’re talking. Everything up to this point had something holding it back for me, be it concept, style, or execution. Ritual is the first record on this list where any quibbles I have are so minor as to be unmentionable. Delivering on the promise of “I Will Return,” Ritual ain’t afraid to get a little weird. Off-kilter takes like “Den of the Picquerist” are exotic curios from a faraway land next to two prior records that spent 95% of their runtime turning your ass into tenderized steak. Here, a more interesting weapon of choice filters into the core proceedings of the record, with offerings like “On Stirring Seas of Salted Blood” providing the perfect chaser to the moonshine shot of “Moonlight Equilibrium.” This is the band’s most complete offering, giving you a taste of everything TBDM has dreamt up over their career, and I venture that Ritual would be one (or two!) spot(s) on this list higher… if I weren’t such a weenie.3

#2. Nightbringers (2017). But I am such a weenie.4 Is Nightbringers effectively Nocturnal with the world’s greatest spit shine? Sure is, and cui gives a shit? It’s got the most polished bow on it you’ll ever see. If you like riffs, and if you like hooks, and if you like them at the same time and in copious quantities, Nightbringers is all you’ll ever need. TBDM poured fifteen years of hard-won lessons and honed songcraft into revitalizing one of the most well-loved and well-regarded (by people with taste) albums in the genre. As such, it feels fresh and new and worth every second of your time, rather than like a lazy nostalgia mine. Most bands would be so lucky as to ape a classic album half as well as this, let alone have it be their own classic album. Speaking of…

#1. Nocturnal (2007). Simply put, Nocturnal is TBDM. This record is the culmination of every moment before it, to where every moment traces back. It was an instant star-maker at the time and a bonafide classic in hindsight. At the core of the band, when you strip off the years of experience and experimentation, the one constant is this sound. Like no other band, TBDM reclaimed the ’90s Swedeath buzzsaw riff and forged it anew in a bloodbath of nitro, horror-movie worship, and unfailing self-seriousness. As Nocturnal unfurls, each track seems certain to be impossible to top, only for the very next entry to do just that. Trying to pick just one Nocturnal song for a playlist (like the one below) invites an hour of “Well wait, what about…” That might not be the best reason to put an album (or two!) ahead of what is an unquestionably more well-rounded entry in Ritual, but it’s certainly the best reason to consider it among your favorite albums more than fifteen years later.

Dolphin Murderer

I don’t typically consider myself a fan of melodeath at large. But select acts that rest on what I would consider the more intense and/or techy side, Intestine Baalism, Arsis, Quo Vadis, Neuraxis, Anata, really grease my grumpy gears. And, among those, naturally, rests the oft-imitated, not quite-matched American giant The Black Dahlia Murder. I didn’t explore their catalog as they were first coming to light as I wasn’t allowed to. You see, I fancied myself a metalhead and all the -core kiddies liked bad music like Darkest Hour, All That Remains, Trivium, and The Black Dahlia Murder. So it took until sometime in my early 20s, sometime around Ritual, to even consider hitting this hallowed act. All because a cute girl with a forked tongue happened to be in my college public speaking class and wearing a sick The Black Dahlia Murder tee. Turns out she wasn’t into dudes. But I lucked into a different partner out of it all, one with sick riffs and vocal prowess that causes newcomers to think that these Michigan boys have two vocalists.

Riff in peace, Trevor.

#9. Unhallowed (2002). Armed equally with the weight of Carcass low-end harmonies and At the Gates Björriffs, TBDM hit the ground running with a gluttonous, thrash-loaded, melodeath pittin’ spree. This debut Unhallowed couldn’t have been more emblematic of the consistency that TBDM would embody throughout their career. As the start of a sound that would become part of the heavy metal dialogue, it’s really almost there in terms of quality. Strnad may not sound as comfortable in his shriek ‘em high and rattle ‘em low vocal attack, but with riffs as nasty as the latchkey turndown of “Closed Casket Reqiuem” and “Hymn for the Wretched,” he doesn’t always need to be the focus.

#8. Verminous (2020). Despite this release being the most recent of the bunch, it is also the one I recalled the least going into this ranking. When Verminous came to be it landed on my ears as a disappointment, though not necessarily a bad record. Frankly, I don’t think TBDM is capable of that. However, Verminous takes risks that other albums haven’t taken, like turning the classical lower-tuned harmonic riffs and scooping them closer to true thrash tones. Simultaneously, this allows stringslinger Brandon Ellis’ treble-focused leads to play about in a fashion that tiptoes the line between power metal cheese and melodeath flamboyance (“Godlessly,” “Removal of the Oaken Stake”). Couple that with Strnad essentially rapping at a couple of points (primarily in the percussive bounce of “How Very Dead”), and you’ve got a solid album after all with a few new wrinkles.

#7. Abysmal (2015). Similarly to Verminous, Abysmal crawls about specific production choices that highlight lead guitarist Ryan Knight’s neoclassical, virtuosic warbling. Namely, it’s louder and thrashier. While the album that came before it, Everblack, never wanted for more shred, its rhythm-focused drive—a more death metal-focused TBDM stance—did not allow sonic space for Abysmal’s inclusion of additional instruments like cellos and violins to have a place amongst the assault. Furthermore, with the increased focus on Knight’s playful prowess, each song includes easy-to-recognize marks of differentiation, whether it be a snappy intro (“Receipt,” “Abysmal”), a wicked solo (every song), or a Strnad-led crusher (“Re-Faced,” “The Advent”). It’s hard to get too much of Knight, Strnad, or TBDM when they’re this fun and tight.

#6. Everblack (2013). If you’re approximately my age, then certainly you’ve heard cries of TBDM ”not being metal” or “being metalcore.” Did you know that Metal Archives doesn’t even list metalcore as a past iteration of their sound?5 Well, if nothing to this point had convinced you, then Everblack would be the one to listen to. Listen, I’m not going to sit here and say you should like TBDM, but with Morbid Angel riffs crushing through slower-than-blast pace numbers (“Into the Everblack,” “Phantom Limb Masturbation”), bass rattle that won’t quick, and Ryan Knight still doing that “is he Yngwie or Greg Howe” shred to fusion-y blues thing, Everblack gives plenty of reasons why you TBDM is a death metal act first. Though the album starts a touch slow and runs long for an experience that subsists almost solely on riffs, it’s very hard to say that anything should go away. Just carve a little more time if you’re gonna jam this one.

#5. Deflorate (2009). Representing the ultimate crystallization of the TBDM sound to this point in their history, Deflorate is an absolutely consistent experience. In different hands, hands that have trouble crafting good songs, that might be an issue. But sticking true to the TBDM formula of harmonic overload, At the Gates / early-Carcass riffs, and Strnad giving a performance that no vocalist could match in this lane, Deflorate is also an easy-to-enjoy success. Notably, this is Ryan Knight’s first appearance (fresh from a stint with melotech legends in their own right, Arsis) at the helm of lead shred duties, which allows Deflorate to have a quality of guitar heroism that no album prior quite had. That’s not to say that past leadwork was subpar by any stretch, but when you hear the elegance of play on tracks like “Necropolis” or “Christ Deformed” against any of the solo breaks that came before them, it’s a whole different ball game. Ryan Knight kills it and keeps Deflorate from being just another riff-rippin’ TBDM album.

#4. Miasma (2005). From a very base stance, Miasma isn’t all too different in attack from the debut. But having already done it once at full-length, and even more on the road, TBDM took huge steps in the polish and tightening of their identity. In particular, the man, the myth, the legend Trevor Strnad steps into his role as the intensifier of already heavy-handed riffs with rolled snarls, bestial lows, and off-the-rails shriek sermons. From the lift-off of “Flies” to the narrative froth of “Dave Goes to Hollywood” to the artistic crackling of “Spite Suicide,” not a moment rings through where Strnad isn’t threatening the mic with a barely held-together glottal assault. I’ve noted on later-era albums that the acquired talents provided an extra panache to an already solid formula. Miasma, in its rawer and younger character, succeeds not through being smart and tidy but by executing TBDM’s vision of melodic death metal to the scraped limits of their abilities at the time.

#3. Nightbringers (2017). If Miasma sold the young and tattered vision that TBDM had of At the Gates riffs with campy and horror-tinged vignettes, Nightbringers sells the wiser version of it kissed by the fresh virtuosity of then-fledgling shredmeister Brandon Ellis. No riff wastes any time launching songs into chunked harmony, barked fury, and blistering solo-land. And despite the number of Björriff-forward tunes that TBDM has cranked over the years, each song here lands with its own weighty identity. Part of that is through Ellis’ neoclassically-cranked excursions that carry as much energy as any melodeath groove (“Kings of the Nightworld,” “As Good as Dead”). And, as with any TBDM outing, Strnad rips maniacally through macabre narratives with a brutal ease that possesses a memorability all its own (“Of God and Serpent, of Spectre and Snake,” “Catacomb Hecatomb” in particular). Truth be told, I’ve also spent more time with this album than any other in the TBDM catalog. When I acquired it, I was on the road more than any other time in my life, and this collection of melodeath bangers was my go-to on a sunless morning commute,6 where my weary eyes needed adrenaline to persevere. Nightbringers gives a dose that doesn’t quit until the last note.

#2. Nocturnal (2007). As much as I (and all the others here) have said the name At the Gates or Björriff7—a fate inescapable from simply the opening classic chord crush of “Everything Went Black”—it’s really the sneaking, tremolo groove Morbid Angel influence that rolls my eyes back on these hardest-hitting early TBDM numbers. This hefty American influence on the hooky and nimble Swedish sound allows monsters like “What a Horrible Night to Have a Curse” and “Of Darkness Spawned” to land with equal parts thrashy tumble and melodic sting. The addition of budding kit talent Shannon Lucas (ex-All That Remains) provides all the machine gun and tom-chattering rhythmic foundation for TBDM to excel in this realization of their early potential. Melodeath doesn’t get much more addictive than this…

#1. Ritual (2011). Well, at least melodeath doesn’t get more addictive than this until Ritual. But the craving that results from this crowning moment isn’t one of riff-indulgence, of fretboard mystery (okay, it is all of those things). Ritual has an atmosphere. The simple placement of dramatic cello lines at the onset signals a moodiness that continues through tones more bass-loaded and balanced than other efforts. I hate to praise engineer Jason Suecof for his work here as he ruined plenty of albums around this time.8 But everything here just works—the cut-ins to Knight’s wobbling and unpredictable axe action, the many layers of Strnad crisscrossing and connecting at group chants and shouts, the low-end weight which even propels the elevated basics d-beat ripping of “Den of the Picquerist.” Continuing to alternate between the Björriff, a churning groove, and a growing hyper-melodic attitude (“The Window”), TBDM finds more ways to hook with the same tools they’ve always had while adding subtle new elements. It’s eerie to listen to “Blood in the Ink” these days, though. Between the added tension of discordant violin lines, further swirling string accompaniment, and its all too real theme of ritual suicide, the foreboding closer is easily one of the best songs The Black Dahlia Murder ever penned. Ritual fades away in the closing echo of “Suicide is the only way out.” And it hurts. It hurt then because that kind of mental trap exists, and it hurts now because art and reality often reflect each other in the scariest and worst of ways. That intersection can breed great art though, and Ritual will live that truth so long as metalheads have ears.

Angry Metal Guy Staff Ranking

We’ve once again used our tallying magic to use a complex point system based on submitted rankings. Thank you to the staff who could offer opinions without words. You are treasured and valuable.9

#9. Verminous (2020)
#8. Unhallowed (2003)
#7. Abysmal (2015)
#6. Everblack (2013)
#3T. Deflorate (2009)
#3T. Miasma (2005)
#3T. Nightbringers (2017)
#2. Ritual (2011)
#1. Nocturnal (2007)

Angry Metal Discord Pile o’ Entitled Opinions

We did the same thing for our Discord users. They smell funny, but wouldn’t you know it, they like The Black Dahlia Murder too! Hopefully, you don’t agree more with this bunch though…

#9. Verminous (2020)
#8. Unhallowed (2003)
#7. Miasma (2005)
#6. Deflorate (2009)
#5. Abysmal (2015)
#4. Nightbringers (2017)
#3. Ritual (2011)
#2. Nocturnal (2007)
#1. Everblack (2013)

And what would this all be without a staff-curated playlist to accompany the celebra¬tion? Get to know The Black Dahlia Murder before their upcoming release Servitude, out September 27th, 2024 on Metal Blade Records.

#2003 #2005 #2007 #2009 #2011 #2013 #2015 #2017 #2020 #AmericanMetal #AMGGoesRanking #AMGRankings #Arsis #AtTheGates #Carcass #Carnosus #DeathMetal #MelodicDeathMetal #MorbidAngel #TheBlackDahliaMurder #TrevorStrnad #Xoth

AMG Goes Ranking – The Black Dahlia Murder

By Dolphin Whisperer

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 nay, a Google FORM 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…

The Black Dahlia Murder is a band I’ve had the honor of watching develop throughout its entire career. With its debut in 2003, an album that I think stands up much better than the chuckleheads below, the Michigan melodic death metal act has been with me for twenty years. I saw them opening for bands before anyone knew who they were, and I was buying each new release on release day. In 2024, The Black Dahlia Murder faces new challenges, moving on from the tragic loss of vocalist and scene giant Trevor Strnad and they will release Servitude on the 27th of September (that’s tomorrow, yes). So, before I unleash my Very Important Opinions™ on the world about the new full-length LP, we thought that a romp through the band’s discography seemed in order. Note that anyone who tells you that Ritual isn’t their best album is lying to you. – Angry Metal Guy

The Ranking(s)

Dr. Wvrm

#9. Unhallowed (2002). At first glance, you would be forgiven for thinking Unhallowed is by a completely different band. This album is three kids standing on each other’s shoulders and wearing a trench coat next to the other records in this catalog. But despite how far TBDM still has to go from this point, Unhallowed has its positives. Its take on 90s Gothenburg is interesting, if not always good, and it certainly doesn’t lack energy. “Elder Misanthropy” is the first entry into the pantheon of all-time TBDM jams, even if it’s a messy one. It’s a long way up from here for the boys from Michigan, but you can clearly see the seeds of what’s to come in this debut.

#8. Verminous (2020). That Verminous is the low point of modern TBDM despite being pretty good says quite a lot about the level of output this band has maintained for the last 20 years. The album maintains the reflexive phase started by Abysmal (more on that in a bit), feeling more like a down-and-dirty expansion of their ideas on Everblack at times. The execution, however, falls further down than I’d like. For a band with bangers aplenty, Verminous never finds its bonafide hit and feels stuck in first gear.

#7. Abysmal (2015). Don’t get me wrong—Abysmal features some of the strongest fretwork in TBDM’s catalog (with Ryan Knight still on board at this point, who is surprised by this?). But coming at the tail of an incredible four-album run, Abysmal’s return to hyperkinetic hooks and solos begins a third phase in the band’s catalog. Instead of pushing onward and outward from the progressive attitude of Everblack, TBDM refocuses and uses the lessons learned throughout their years of experimentation to revitalize their core sound. As a result, Abysmal feels more like a transition record between eras than anything else. In theory, it’s not doing too much differently from Deflorate, and unfortunately feels a bit stale by comparison. TBDM would find a way around the all-been-done-before feel by their next album, but with Abysmal, the retread weighs a bit heavier than you’d like.

#6. Miasma (2005). Miasma demonstrates instant growth over TBDM’s debut. If Unhallowed was a rough attempt at mid-90s melodeath, Miasma surges forward to the turn-of-the-century fusion of melodic death metal and mainstream metalcore production.1 Though they wouldn’t stick with this sound for long, there’s so much across Miasma to like, from the cleaner production and maturing songwriting to the charisma that is now starting to bleed through every facet of the music. Strnad’s famous dual vocals really come into their own here, and the rest of the performances aren’t far behind. Though there’s still one piece of the puzzle remaining, you can see the full picture starting to resolve.

#5. Deflorate (2009). This album proved not only that TBDM wasn’t a one-album wonder, but that they also weren’t a one-trick pony. Ryan Knight joined the band from Arsis and overnight launched TBDM’s lead guitar capabilities into the stratosphere. But what looked like Nocturnal on nitro on its face sees, under the hood, Brian Eschbach’s songwriting quietly started to push the boundaries of the band’s imagination and capacity. Closer “I Will Return” veers hard left from everything to that point, touching on patient development and melodic progressions in a way that we could have only guessed TBDM was capable of (“Warborn”). It may lack the highs of some other records, but Deflorate is where TBDM started to show the depths of their abilities.

#4. Everblack (2013). Those of you who know I love TBDM know why I love TBDM,2 and what I want isn’t in steady supply on Everblack. What is, however, is perhaps the pinnacle of TBDM’s exploratory songwriting and certainly the heights of Knight’s solo abilities (“Into the Everblack”). Everblack is a grower in a catalog of showers, operating in many ways like a prog death album in its attention to detail and willingness to fiddle with genre conventions. It’s also Strnad at his most diverse, leading an excellent full-ensemble performance from melodeath to straight death to black metal and back again. My personal predilection for beeg boi melojams is the only reason this isn’t placing higher on this list; on an objective quality scale, Everblack is aces.

#3. Ritual (2011). Now we’re talking. Everything up to this point had something holding it back for me, be it concept, style, or execution. Ritual is the first record on this list where any quibbles I have are so minor as to be unmentionable. Delivering on the promise of “I Will Return,” Ritual ain’t afraid to get a little weird. Off-kilter takes like “Den of the Picquerist” are exotic curios from a faraway land next to two prior records that spent 95% of their runtime turning your ass into tenderized steak. Here, a more interesting weapon of choice filters into the core proceedings of the record, with offerings like “On Stirring Seas of Salted Blood” providing the perfect chaser to the moonshine shot of “Moonlight Equilibrium.” This is the band’s most complete offering, giving you a taste of everything TBDM has dreamt up over their career, and I venture that Ritual would be one (or two!) spot(s) on this list higher… if I weren’t such a weenie.3

#2. Nightbringers (2017). But I am such a weenie.4 Is Nightbringers effectively Nocturnal with the world’s greatest spit shine? Sure is, and cui gives a shit? It’s got the most polished bow on it you’ll ever see. If you like riffs, and if you like hooks, and if you like them at the same time and in copious quantities, Nightbringers is all you’ll ever need. TBDM poured fifteen years of hard-won lessons and honed songcraft into revitalizing one of the most well-loved and well-regarded (by people with taste) albums in the genre. As such, it feels fresh and new and worth every second of your time, rather than like a lazy nostalgia mine. Most bands would be so lucky as to ape a classic album half as well as this, let alone have it be their own classic album. Speaking of…

#1. Nocturnal (2007). Simply put, Nocturnal is TBDM. This record is the culmination of every moment before it, to where every moment traces back. It was an instant star-maker at the time and a bonafide classic in hindsight. At the core of the band, when you strip off the years of experience and experimentation, the one constant is this sound. Like no other band, TBDM reclaimed the ’90s Swedeath buzzsaw riff and forged it anew in a bloodbath of nitro, horror-movie worship, and unfailing self-seriousness. As Nocturnal unfurls, each track seems certain to be impossible to top, only for the very next entry to do just that. Trying to pick just one Nocturnal song for a playlist (like the one below) invites an hour of “Well wait, what about…” That might not be the best reason to put an album (or two!) ahead of what is an unquestionably more well-rounded entry in Ritual, but it’s certainly the best reason to consider it among your favorite albums more than fifteen years later.

Dolphin Murderer

I don’t typically consider myself a fan of melodeath at large. But select acts that rest on what I would consider the more intense and/or techy side, Intestine Baalism, Arsis, Quo Vadis, Neuraxis, Anata, really grease my grumpy gears. And, among those, naturally, rests the oft-imitated, not quite-matched American giant The Black Dahlia Murder. I didn’t explore their catalog as they were first coming to light as I wasn’t allowed to. You see, I fancied myself a metalhead and all the -core kiddies liked bad music like Darkest Hour, All That Remains, Trivium, and The Black Dahlia Murder. So it took until sometime in my early 20s, sometime around Ritual, to even consider hitting this hallowed act. All because a cute girl with a forked tongue happened to be in my college public speaking class and wearing a sick The Black Dahlia Murder tee. Turns out she wasn’t into dudes. But I lucked into a different partner out of it all, one with sick riffs and vocal prowess that causes newcomers to think that these Michigan boys have two vocalists.

Riff in peace, Trevor.

#9. Unhallowed (2002). Armed equally with the weight of Carcass low-end harmonies and At the Gates Björriffs, TBDM hit the ground running with a gluttonous, thrash-loaded, melodeath pittin’ spree. This debut Unhallowed couldn’t have been more emblematic of the consistency that TBDM would embody throughout their career. As the start of a sound that would become part of the heavy metal dialogue, it’s really almost there in terms of quality. Strnad may not sound as comfortable in his shriek ‘em high and rattle ‘em low vocal attack, but with riffs as nasty as the latchkey turndown of “Closed Casket Reqiuem” and “Hymn for the Wretched,” he doesn’t always need to be the focus.

#8. Verminous (2020). Despite this release being the most recent of the bunch, it is also the one I recalled the least going into this ranking. When Verminous came to be it landed on my ears as a disappointment, though not necessarily a bad record. Frankly, I don’t think TBDM is capable of that. However, Verminous takes risks that other albums haven’t taken, like turning the classical lower-tuned harmonic riffs and scooping them closer to true thrash tones. Simultaneously, this allows stringslinger Brandon Ellis’ treble-focused leads to play about in a fashion that tiptoes the line between power metal cheese and melodeath flamboyance (“Godlessly,” “Removal of the Oaken Stake”). Couple that with Strnad essentially rapping at a couple of points (primarily in the percussive bounce of “How Very Dead”), and you’ve got a solid album after all with a few new wrinkles.

#7. Abysmal (2015). Similarly to Verminous, Abysmal crawls about specific production choices that highlight lead guitarist Ryan Knight’s neoclassical, virtuosic warbling. Namely, it’s louder and thrashier. While the album that came before it, Everblack, never wanted for more shred, its rhythm-focused drive—a more death metal-focused TBDM stance—did not allow sonic space for Abysmal’s inclusion of additional instruments like cellos and violins to have a place amongst the assault. Furthermore, with the increased focus on Knight’s playful prowess, each song includes easy-to-recognize marks of differentiation, whether it be a snappy intro (“Receipt,” “Abysmal”), a wicked solo (every song), or a Strnad-led crusher (“Re-Faced,” “The Advent”). It’s hard to get too much of Knight, Strnad, or TBDM when they’re this fun and tight.

#6. Everblack (2013). If you’re approximately my age, then certainly you’ve heard cries of TBDM ”not being metal” or “being metalcore.” Did you know that Metal Archives doesn’t even list metalcore as a past iteration of their sound?5 Well, if nothing to this point had convinced you, then Everblack would be the one to listen to. Listen, I’m not going to sit here and say you should like TBDM, but with Morbid Angel riffs crushing through slower-than-blast pace numbers (“Into the Everblack,” “Phantom Limb Masturbation”), bass rattle that won’t quick, and Ryan Knight still doing that “is he Yngwie or Greg Howe” shred to fusion-y blues thing, Everblack gives plenty of reasons why you TBDM is a death metal act first. Though the album starts a touch slow and runs long for an experience that subsists almost solely on riffs, it’s very hard to say that anything should go away. Just carve a little more time if you’re gonna jam this one.

#5. Deflorate (2009). Representing the ultimate crystallization of the TBDM sound to this point in their history, Deflorate is an absolutely consistent experience. In different hands, hands that have trouble crafting good songs, that might be an issue. But sticking true to the TBDM formula of harmonic overload, At the Gates / early-Carcass riffs, and Strnad giving a performance that no vocalist could match in this lane, Deflorate is also an easy-to-enjoy success. Notably, this is Ryan Knight’s first appearance (fresh from a stint with melotech legends in their own right, Arsis) at the helm of lead shred duties, which allows Deflorate to have a quality of guitar heroism that no album prior quite had. That’s not to say that past leadwork was subpar by any stretch, but when you hear the elegance of play on tracks like “Necropolis” or “Christ Deformed” against any of the solo breaks that came before them, it’s a whole different ball game. Ryan Knight kills it and keeps Deflorate from being just another riff-rippin’ TBDM album.

#4. Miasma (2005). From a very base stance, Miasma isn’t all too different in attack from the debut. But having already done it once at full-length, and even more on the road, TBDM took huge steps in the polish and tightening of their identity. In particular, the man, the myth, the legend Trevor Strnad steps into his role as the intensifier of already heavy-handed riffs with rolled snarls, bestial lows, and off-the-rails shriek sermons. From the lift-off of “Flies” to the narrative froth of “Dave Goes to Hollywood” to the artistic crackling of “Spite Suicide,” not a moment rings through where Strnad isn’t threatening the mic with a barely held-together glottal assault. I’ve noted on later-era albums that the acquired talents provided an extra panache to an already solid formula. Miasma, in its rawer and younger character, succeeds not through being smart and tidy but by executing TBDM’s vision of melodic death metal to the scraped limits of their abilities at the time.

#3. Nightbringers (2017). If Miasma sold the young and tattered vision that TBDM had of At the Gates riffs with campy and horror-tinged vignettes, Nightbringers sells the wiser version of it kissed by the fresh virtuosity of then-fledgling shredmeister Brandon Ellis. No riff wastes any time launching songs into chunked harmony, barked fury, and blistering solo-land. And despite the number of Björriff-forward tunes that TBDM has cranked over the years, each song here lands with its own weighty identity. Part of that is through Ellis’ neoclassically-cranked excursions that carry as much energy as any melodeath groove (“Kings of the Nightworld,” “As Good as Dead”). And, as with any TBDM outing, Strnad rips maniacally through macabre narratives with a brutal ease that possesses a memorability all its own (“Of God and Serpent, of Spectre and Snake,” “Catacomb Hecatomb” in particular). Truth be told, I’ve also spent more time with this album than any other in the TBDM catalog. When I acquired it, I was on the road more than any other time in my life, and this collection of melodeath bangers was my go-to on a sunless morning commute,6 where my weary eyes needed adrenaline to persevere. Nightbringers gives a dose that doesn’t quit until the last note.

#2. Nocturnal (2007). As much as I (and all the others here) have said the name At the Gates or Björriff7—a fate inescapable from simply the opening classic chord crush of “Everything Went Black”—it’s really the sneaking, tremolo groove Morbid Angel influence that rolls my eyes back on these hardest-hitting early TBDM numbers. This hefty American influence on the hooky and nimble Swedish sound allows monsters like “What a Horrible Night to Have a Curse” and “Of Darkness Spawned” to land with equal parts thrashy tumble and melodic sting. The addition of budding kit talent Shannon Lucas (ex-All That Remains) provides all the machine gun and tom-chattering rhythmic foundation for TBDM to excel in this realization of their early potential. Melodeath doesn’t get much more addictive than this…

#1. Ritual (2011). Well, at least melodeath doesn’t get more addictive than this until Ritual. But the craving that results from this crowning moment isn’t one of riff-indulgence, of fretboard mystery (okay, it is all of those things). Ritual has an atmosphere. The simple placement of dramatic cello lines at the onset signals a moodiness that continues through tones more bass-loaded and balanced than other efforts. I hate to praise engineer Jason Suecof for his work here as he ruined plenty of albums around this time.8 But everything here just works—the cut-ins to Knight’s wobbling and unpredictable axe action, the many layers of Strnad crisscrossing and connecting at group chants and shouts, the low-end weight which even propels the elevated basics d-beat ripping of “Den of the Picquerist.” Continuing to alternate between the Björriff, a churning groove, and a growing hyper-melodic attitude (“The Window”), TBDM finds more ways to hook with the same tools they’ve always had while adding subtle new elements. It’s eerie to listen to “Blood in the Ink” these days, though. Between the added tension of discordant violin lines, further swirling string accompaniment, and its all too real theme of ritual suicide, the foreboding closer is easily one of the best songs The Black Dahlia Murder ever penned. Ritual fades away in the closing echo of “Suicide is the only way out.” And it hurts. It hurt then because that kind of mental trap exists, and it hurts now because art and reality often reflect each other in the scariest and worst of ways. That intersection can breed great art though, and Ritual will live that truth so long as metalheads have ears.

Angry Metal Guy Staff Ranking

We’ve once again used our tallying magic to use a complex point system based on submitted rankings. Thank you to the staff who could offer opinions without words. You are treasured and valuable.9

#9. Verminous (2020)
#8. Unhallowed (2003)
#7. Abysmal (2015)
#6. Everblack (2013)
#3T. Deflorate (2009)
#3T. Miasma (2005)
#3T. Nightbringers (2017)
#2. Ritual (2011)
#1. Nocturnal (2007)

Angry Metal Discord Pile o’ Entitled Opinions

We did the same thing for our Discord users. They smell funny, but wouldn’t you know it, they like The Black Dahlia Murder too! Hopefully, you don’t agree more with this bunch though…

#9. Verminous (2020)
#8. Unhallowed (2003)
#7. Miasma (2005)
#6. Deflorate (2009)
#5. Abysmal (2015)
#4. Nightbringers (2017)
#3. Ritual (2011)
#2. Nocturnal (2007)
#1. Everblack (2013)

And what would this all be without a staff-curated playlist to accompany the celebra¬tion? Get to know The Black Dahlia Murder before their upcoming release Servitude, out September 27th, 2024 on Metal Blade Records.

#2003 #2005 #2007 #2009 #2011 #2013 #2015 #2017 #2020 #AmericanMetal #AMGGoesRanking #AMGRankings #Arsis #AtTheGates #Carcass #Carnosus #DeathMetal #MelodicDeathMetal #MorbidAngel #TheBlackDahliaMurder #TrevorStrnad #Xoth