#mydyingbride — 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.

Few luminaries in metal can suckerpunch you right in the feels quite like Patrick Walker of 40 Watt Sun and the legendary Warning. Seriously, he could be singing to you about proper chinchilla care, and many would be left a sobbing, blubbering mess as he caterwauls about what treats and bathing clay to get for your new furry little friend. If you need proof of this, go give 2006’s sorrowful masterpiece (and recent Yer Metal is Olde inductee) Watching from a Distance 45 minutes of your time, and when you’re done splashing cold water on your face to remove the tears and redness, you’ll be hard-pressed to disagree. No one could predict that Walker would resurrect the project, as he seemed happy(?!) and content to continue with 40WS, but with its 2016 resurrection and now new album Rituals of Shame, all eyes are on Walker and crew to deliver.

And deliver, they did. Just like its immediate and legendary predecessor, Rituals is 45 minutes of a band taking its dear, bittersweet time to wrest every milliliter of sadness out of you. From the opening seconds of the title track, Walker and 40WS bandmate Wayne Taylor smother you flat with subdued riffs and simplistic yet effective melodies, even before a single word is muttered. But once Walker begins singing, ho-boy, that familiar yearning ache returns in full depressing force. Weathered by years of life experiences, Walker’s bellowing vibrato haven’t lost an ounce of effectiveness. In fact, they’ve become more potent over time, channeling that feeling that can only be delivered by someone who’s been through various wringers and back through honest conviction. It feels like they never disbanded, only resting until the time is right.

The other four songs also ensure that no light escapes or gets in. Closer “Teacher” hits with the same level of effectiveness as “Bridges” and “Footprints” did on Watching, but not taking as long to do so. Returning bassist Marcus Hatfield and new drummer Andy Prestidge (also of 40WS) added just enough variations of fills, rhythms, and flourishes, but mostly kept to a simple, heavy, and driving sound, again amplifying the anguish conveyed by Walker, his lyrics, and voice. And that’s the key to the effectiveness of Rituals and Warning as a whole; you don’t need flashiness, technical proficiency, or tricks and studio wizardry to be effective. Sometimes, brutally transparent honesty, wide-open space for your instruments to breathe and reverberate, and your emotions in the here and now are more than enough to get your message across.

It doesn’t hurt that Rituals is a massive improvement in some areas in terms of mastering and production. You can hear and feel Hatfield’s bass, and Prestidge’s drums don’t have that annoying “My Dying Bride in an empty bathroom” sound1 that permeated on Watching, so kudos to Tom Dring for engineering the drums perfectly. Thankfully, Chris Fullard and Adam Gonsalves left the guitars and Walker’s voice alone, as what wasn’t broken sure as hell didn’t need fixing. The only drawback to Rituals is this isn’t something I could listen to all that much. Not because of the quality, which is stellar, but it hurts to listen to on an emotional level. If you were in a good mood before listening to this, you sure as shit won’t be when you’re done. That said, if you need to purge and get whatever the fuck is making you sad out, I can’t think of a better album to do so with.

And that’s the… I refuse to say “appeal,” but I’m at a loss for words otherwise, of Warning. You don’t go into their music for gains at the gym, to romance your significant other, or to bask in someone’s ability to up and down a fretboard as fast as humanly possible. You listen to Warning to reflect, to purge, and to feel. And if you’re anything at all like me, you’ve been waiting a damn long time for a worthy follow-up to Watching from a Distance. Thankfully, Warning gave us exactly that. Welcome back.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Relapse
Websites: warningdoom.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/warningdoom | instagram.com/warningdoom
Releases Worldwide: June 19th, 2026

It’s not that often that I’ll have difficulty talking about an album that’s hitting its 20 year anniversary soon. In the case of Watching from a Distance, the second (and at the time, final) album from UK doom metal (then-) trio Warning, giving words to the atmosphere, the weight, and the aching hurt emanating from these five songs proved to be more than daunting. It’s not that often that you come across an album that feels like a sonic gutpunch that just doesn’t stop punching you into emotional submission, and guitarist/vocalist/mainman Patrick Walker did so effortlessly. It’s hard to not feel something while listening to the album, then or now. It’s this encapsulation of utter sadness and yearning that would influence many since, and what better time than now to induct Watching from a Distance into the Halls of the Olde?

Warning didn’t come from the more Gothic sounds of their contemporaries (and fellow YMIO inductees) Anathema, My Dying Bride, or Paradise Lost. Lyrically, they also couldn’t be more different. Whereas not many people could sing about fighting the gods like Darren White did, nor can we all take Aaron Stainthorpe’s hand or do we all have the ability to opaque the dissident establishment that we all suffer like Nick Holmes,1 we’ve all encountered the aftermath of a break-up or losing a loved one. If you haven’t, rest assured it’s coming, and no one can articulate the sheer crushing feeling that comes with that like Walker does here, and it’s especially not at the level of maturity he exhibited. No fingers pointed, no blame assigned, no good/bad person(s) to smear… just the aftermath, the pain that comes with it, and the knowledge (or lack thereof) of what to do next to move on.

Take the devastatingly heartbreaking “Bridges,” in which there’s very little variation between riffs and percussive patterns, and that’s on purpose: the rhythm section of bassist Marcus Hatfield and drummer Stuart Springthorpe knew to keep things plodding and controlled by design, further accentuating the repetitive riffs and lyrics of Walker’s. Speaking of, each verse ends with Walker achingly bellowing “I wish you were here with me tonight,” with each passing verse more dire and heartwrenching than the last, with the final pass preceded by “Can someone feel too much?” Tear-inducing on its own, but when it’s immediately followed by Walker harmoniously bellowing towards the end, those who are unprepared2 will be reduced to a quivering pile of sobs. Emotionally decimating.

The other four songs also float by with the grace and delicacy of a cinder block thrown right at your heart and emotions. The closing combo of “Faces” and “Echoes” do a fine job of further bringing the sorrow and pain, with the former lamenting a sense of normalcy amongst the crumble of a failed relationship, while the latter recalls pleasant memories of what was, but will never be again. However, it’s the opening one-two suckerpunch of the title track and “Footprints” that everyone remembers, and with good reason. The title track feels like a moment in time where Walker sees the wreckage of a the relationship and sees what he remembers are the good qualities, but it’s far too late to turn back the clock and repair the damage. And “Footprints”… man, fuck “Footprints” so much. At first a bit more upbeat than “Watching from a Distance,” all seemingly feels almost uplifting when suddenly Walker bares all in the song’s final few minutes, complete with a desperate delivery, complete with an emotionally charged voice that cracks and warbles in a broken manner that I made the mistake of listening to it the first time on my way home from work, and I had to pull over to partake in the ugliest of purging crying sessions. It’s ultra-rare that doom metal can make me feel that way, and Walker and company succeeded in accomplishing this in spades.

It was a sad time when Walker disbanded Warning in 2009, due to the simplest of reasons: artistic integrity and keeping his vision intact, forming the formidable 40 Watt Sun, an acoustic continuation of what Warning achieved. However, with their influence driving the likes of Pallbearer and Khemmis (among others), it was only a matter of time before Warning would return with Hatfield in tow, and now with their long-awaited third album, Rituals of Shame, on the horizon, it’s only fitting to induct Watching from a Distance in the Halls of the Olde. Give this a listen, but bring tissues.

Doubtsower – The Past Melts Away with a Sneer Review

By ClarkKent

It’s amazing how quickly November, and my month of doom, has flown by. It seems the constant exposure to slow-paced music has made the days move faster, not slower. For my final November doom promo, what could be more appropriate than one described as “one long song funeral doom?” While the Welsh doom band containing this descriptor, Doubtsower, is new to me, the man behind the project, Matt Strangis, has three previous releases dating back to 2021. Although most of these earlier albums cross the one-hour mark, none of the songs run longer than fifteen minutes 1, so this is new territory for Doubtsower. Strangis describes his own songwriting process as “punk DIY,” and he does much of his recording at home, with some mastering help from Greg Chandler of Esoteric. For insomniacs, one long funeral doom song sounds like the perfect cure, but be careful, this doesn’t backfire and instead keeps you hooked and wide awake.

While the premise of a 48-minute funeral doom song brings to mind other ambitious projects from Bell Witch and Oak, Doubtsower’s The Past Melts Away with a Sneer turns out to be one weird beast. Doubtsower isn’t exactly a funeral doom band, but an experimental doom band. Strangis keeps his one song’s tempo slow—funeral doom slow—yet it has much more in common with the avant-garde music of John Cage than My Dying Bride or Esoteric. It makes use of syncopated riffs that cut short and disorient listeners, as well as some unusual noises, such as static scratches and the clicking and rattling of ratchets. “The Past Melts Away with a Sneer” also makes use of silences, though they’re not as lengthy as “4’33,” largely as a transitional tool. This use of odd sounds, silent moments, and suspenseful repetitions of short riffs creates an unsettling mood early on, and with the mix of sludge, I couldn’t help but think of experimental sludge/horror/doom outfit When the Deadbolt Breaks.

Over the course of its 48 minutes, The Past Melts Away with a Sneer is an ever-shifting amalgamation of styles, an amorphic blob that somehow holds everything together as a cohesive whole. Sounds often shift minute-by-minute despite the glacial pacing. While the early goings have the John Cage thing going, at the 8-minute mark, the track breaks out into the one segment that sounds like traditional funeral doom, with plodding drum beats, crushing guitars, and a low, harsh growl. Yet just as you think this is the direction it’s going, the song goes silent and then shifts into a new form. The extensive use of silence and light droning makes the sudden bursts of energy peppered throughout all the more striking. About 20 minutes in, “The Past Melts Away with a Sneer” morphs into industrial dance, snapping you awake and commanding your body to move. The song morphs yet again, this time into something hopeful and poppy, with light, Weezer-like strums. However, even this segment doesn’t last long, and somehow Strangis is able to convince us that these disparate sounds all form one coherent tune.

It’s pretty impressive how “The Past Melts Away with a Sneer” is able to remain engaging for its entire run, but some moments of repetition do derail portions of the track. This is most egregious at 29 minutes as Doubtsower transitions into a lengthy portion of sludge/doom. Throughout this approximately eight-minute segment, there’s a consistent, repetitive riff that grows tiresome over time. Still, the song rights itself for the finale with the return of a catchy piano/synth melody from the beginning. As this melody begins to fade into silence and lulls you into a sense of closure, the track gains a second wind and hurls forth an energetic set of industrial riffs and blast beats. There’s an unpredictability that catches you off guard and keeps the record fresh.

If the album I described above sounds like a nightmare, that’s the whole point. It’s meant to be a “disorienting descent into a nihilistic free-for-all,” and Strangis succeeds in making that vision come to fruition. It may not always be easy listening, but it’s rarely boring. Having spent some time with the prior Doubtsower records, this one stands out as Strangis’s most engaging and best-written. The Past Melts Away with a Sneer has caused me to question my usually negative relationship with experimental metal. It has left me feeling disoriented, but in a good way, and it’s an experience that I recommend for the curious and lovers of the weird.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: WAV
Label: Self-Release
Website: Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: November 28th, 2025

#2025 #30 #avanteGarde #bellWitch #doomMetal #doubtsower #esoteric #experimentalMetal #funeralDoom #industrialMetal #johnCage #myDyingBride #nov25 #oak #review #reviews #selfReleased #sludgeMetal #thePastMeltsAwayWithASneer #weezer #welshMetal #whenTheDeadboltBreaks

Tempestuous Fall – The Descent of Mortals Past Review

By ClarkKent

In 2012, Australia’s Dis Pater released the debut record for his third active—at the time—one-man project: The Stars Would Not Awaken You by Tempestuous Fall, a work of epic funeral doom. The following year, Pater released what might be the strangest split I’ve heard of: a three-way between his own active projects. It ended up being a “[three] men enter, one man leaves” kind of deal, with Midnight Odyssey being the lone survivor.1 In that time, he has contributed to several other bands, from a Greek black metal group, Kawir, to a Slovakian black metal group, Aeon Winds, as well as a whopping nine LPs for Midnight Odyssey. Yet something about the funeral doom of Tempestuous Fall must have called Pater back. Backed by classical symphonic elements, it turns out he had rather ambitious goals for sophomore album, The Descent of Mortals Past.

The Descent of Mortals Past is a concept album focused on six mythological figures and their unfortunate adventures to the underworld. With themes based in the classics, and even some lyrics in Latin, it should be no surprise that Tempestuous Fall takes a classical approach to the music. “Theseus – Encased in the Stones of Hades” opens with some gorgeous, serene strings before adding on the usual funeral doom trappings of a heavy guitar and glacial pacing. You’ll also hear the melancholic tinkling of piano keys on songs like “Heracles – Dark is the Home of the Underworld,” showing off Pater’s versatility and ingenuity. It’s remarkable the way he melds these classical elements with doom guitars and growls to create lush, hooky funeral doom. “Psyche – Temptation of the Divine” goes all out, bringing in church organs, choral chants and hums, and operatic vocals from guest singer Alice Corvinus (Swords of Dis). This beautiful tune provides such an enticing melody you might follow it to the gates of Hades.

Of course, on the classics you don’t hear singers using demonic growls, but Tempestuous Fall might make them rethink that choice. Pater takes a My Dying Bride approach—alternating between low growls and cleans. He may not be as powerful as Aaron Stainthorpe, but he’s still effective. His growls contrast with the classical melodies and deliver the lyrics poetically, while his cleans provide memorable choruses that make you want to sing along. When the heavy guitars first join the strings on “Theseus…,” it’s a shock to the system like taking the polar plunge in nothing but your underpants. But they add a darkness and melancholy that’s fitting for doomed trips to the underworld. The production is a bit of a let-down, however, as the guitars take on a buzzy quality rather than the muscle of Evoken. Yet there is a charm to this raw, lo-fi quality that takes me back to the earlier Opeth records like Morningrise.

The back half of The Descent of Mortals Past has some unfortunate inconsistencies that keep it from matching the fantastic first half. None of these songs are bad, just different. The first is “Ulysses – Requiem of the Sea,” a doom cover of Mozart’s “Lacrimosa.” It’s a very cool track, but it also feels unoriginal, especially since it is among the most played classical tunes in modern pop culture—almost to the level of parody. Similarly, “Orpheus – In Dark Deathly Grey” is also quite good, but its focus on acoustics makes it sound more at home on a Dolven record than a symphonic funeral doom set. The finale, “Aeneas – Guide Me Home,” is a return to form that fits in much better with the front half. Like these earlier songs, it has strings, doom, and some melodic leads and cleans that end the LP on an uplifting note. Yet, being the longest tune at eleven minutes, it’s the only one that feels like it drags on due to too much repetition. Individually, the songs on the back half are solid and probably keep the record from sounding stale, yet they also break a spell the first half weaves.

While it doesn’t quite reach the level of last week’s Oromet, Tempestuous Fall has written another worthy platter of funeral doom for 2025. With how The Descent of Mortals Past sounds, it is understandable why Pater wanted to return to this funeral doom project after a thirteen-year hiatus. He has an ear for epic yarns, and his injection of doom adds gravity to the classics. I just hope that he doesn’t wait another thirteen years to release the next one.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: I, Voidhanger Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: November 14th, 2025

#2025 #35 #aeonWinds #australianMetal #dolven #evoken #funeralDoom #iVoidhangerRecords #kawir #midnightOdyssey #mozart #myDyingBride #nov25 #opeth #oromet #review #reviews #swordsOfDis #symphonicMetal #tempestuousFall #theDescentOfMortalsPast

Evoken – Mendacium Review

By Steel Druhm

New Jersey’s Evoken is one the big names in the very niche genre of funeral doom. Since 1994 they’ve been churning out lengthy, unhurried odes to despair and tragedy, taking heavy inspiration from the Peaceville Three era while forging a path of their own. Albums like Quietus and Antithesis of Light are regarded as funeral doom triumphs, and you can depend on Evoken to deliver carefully crafted epics full of emotionally harrowing moods. It’s been a long time since 2018s Hypnagogia dropped, and 2025 finally sees these Garden State downers resurface for 7th full-length, Mendacium. And when I saw full-length, I mean FULL, as this beast runs over an hour with songs typically in the 9-10 minute framework. Funeral doom can be a tough sell to many, even when executed adroitly. Will there be an appetite for an hour-plus of what Evoken have prepared for the ears?

Nearly 10-minute opener “Matins” isn’t what I would call a soft intro to the Evoken experience. It’s eerie, ominous funeral noise with heavy, drawn-out doom riffs, cavernous death croaks, and nerve-jangled synths, but as the monster shambles forward, more melodic touches emerge from the miasma. Sad, forlorn piano keys twinkle in that My Dying Bride way, and a vaguely Gothic mist swirls below the heavier assault. Sudden upheavals of blast beats and trem riffs jumpstart the energy, and tempos are toyed with just enough to keep things from becoming a faceless mush of doom plod. The package is what Evoken have done before, and it isn’t showing new textures so much as moving established genre pieces around on the board. The forlorn guitar lines and solos ache with emotion, and a feeling of suffocating hopelessness is maintained throughout. Is it a chore to get through? That will depend on how well you stomach funeral doom, but even for a fan like me, it does feel a bit long by the end. “Lauds” is another 10-minute death march, but a bit more “urgent” in its pacing, with more emphasis on force and less on atmosphere and nuance. The dramatic spoken word bits can be a take-it-or-leave-it element, but the riffs are meaty and heavy, and there’s a sense of danger here instead of just grief. It’s got genuinely gripping moments, and the vaguely liturgical feel of the synths and ghostly choirs is a nifty touch, but Evoken drag segments out past the point of usefulness with resultingly diminishing returns.

For my tastes, “None” is the album highlight. Though typically slow to get locked into gear, once there, you’re greeted with gripping death and black vocals and a rising intensity that feels like it’s on the highway to Hell. There’s real menace here, though restraint and leaden pacing are still the watchwords. The extra weight from the riffs helps keep attention, though Evoken still tests your patience with stretched-out segments of minimal action. Closer “Compline” dives deeper into classic doom and the salad days of My Dying Bride and Anathema with mostly positive results. I especially like the banged upon piano keys, which hint at something disturbing. The big obstacle across Mendacium is the way Evoken build their long-form compositions. They can often feel flat and undynamic, even by funeral doom standards. The tracks with the most routine tempo shifts work best, but even they feel 2-3 minutes too long. This isn’t a new issue for the band, but it seems to have become more pronounced starting on Hypnagogia. There are long segments that could appear on a new age meditation album, where you can sit and zone out to the astral plane. That’s fine, but I don’t want lots of that in my funeral doom.

John Paradiso and Chris Molinari offer a fair amount of heavy doom riffs, and there are plenty of plaintive harmonies that speak of melancholy and despair. They aren’t the most dynamic riff authors out there, but they know how to set a mood and build atmosphere. Paradiso’s vocals are effective, his death roars booming and menacing and his evil blackened cackles sounding suitably demonic. I’m not a fan of the spoken word bits, but that’s a genre-wide issue and a personal preference. Vince Verkay does a lot on the kit when let off his leash by the funerary slogging. He’s one of the bright spots here, and I find my attention drawn to his playing frequently.

Evoken are pros at this style of doom, and Mendacium is solid, competent funeral doom with some writing snags that take it down a few notches in effectiveness. Too many moments evoke spa time, sitting with cucumber slices on my eyes rather than sobbing inconsolably at a loved one’s grave. I need less spa, more funeral. This may be one of the most restrained things to ever come out of New Jersey, and that’s not a selling point for Yours Steely. Still, if the mood is right, this could lull you into an early grave. A muted endorsement.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Profound Lore
Websites: evokenofficial.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/evokenhell | instagram.com/evoken_doom_official
Releases Worldwide: October 17th, 2025

#2025 #30 #AmericanMetal #Anathema #DeathMetal #DoomMetal #Evoken #FuneralDoom #Mendacium #MyDyingBride #Oct25 #ProfoundLore #Review #Reviews

Structure – Heritage Review

By Steel Druhm

Just when I thought I’d make it to May without awarding the coveted Steel ov Approval, an unheralded project erupts from the Netherlands and forces my unwilling hand. Structure is the labor of love of Bram Bijlhout, who served seven years as a guitarist in atmo-doom deathers Officium Triste. Now he’s putting his own spin on the genre, handling everything save for vocals and drums. In comes the esteemed Pim Blankenstein, also of Officium Triste and The 11th Hour, to handle the former, with Dirk Bruinenberg (Elegy, ex-Adagio) manning the latter. On the full-length debut, Structure prove this project can honor the doom Heritage that birthed it. This is a massive, monolithic slab of doom that paints a sweeping mural across your head and heart, all in gray and black. Crushing and gorgeous in equal parts, Heritage takes you on an immersive journey through the human experience, teaching you about fathomless despair, undying hope, and ultimately, redemption. It’s a staggering work of heartbreaking genius, and something every doom fan needs to know about.

The album opens with what may be the hands-down winner of Song o’ the Year, “Will I Deserve It.” It’s a monumental doom epic that caves in your chest with its raw power and brings a tear to the most jaded eye with its heart-wrenching beauty. Vaguely Bathorycore riffs thunder away as Pim emits inhumanly death bellows, and soon the melancholic trilling calls to the sadperson in all of us. It’s heavy as fook but maintains a forlorn, tragic air, taking one back to the glory days of the Peaceville Three and those early My Dying Bride and Anathema gems. When Bram cuts loose with his soloing at the 4-minute mark, bittersweet beauty blooms like springtime flowers over the grave of a dearly departed, like a gift to remind you that, no matter where their spirit roams, they’re with you always. I could write 750 words about this song alone, but suffice it to say, it’s brilliant. It’s the rare album that can match a radiant moment like this one, but Heritage is far from done with its smoke show. “What We Have Lost” drags things down into funeral doom territory for rib-cracking density before gradually evolving into a more melodic voyage. Bram’s emotive guitar weaves throughout the heaviness as minimalist piano lines plink mournfully, and Mr. Pim shakes the rafters with unbearable pain. It’s a wonder something this intensely despondent can be so captivating, but despite its nearly 8-minute runtime, when it ends, you’ll wish it hadn’t.

“Long Before Me” is even longer yet no less stunning. It’s so morose and gloriously depressive, it’s almost exhilarating. It sucks you in with its funereal trilling and carries you away in its dark embrace. The guitars from 5 minutes onward are so minimalist but pure perfection. The title track borrows much from Warning’s timeless Watching from a Distance, replicating that album’s unrelenting glumness perfectly, only to switch to Bolt Thrower-esque power chugs that threaten your very existence. Surrounding these moments are bright, melodic bits that take me back to Edge of Sanity’s Crimson. Closer “Until the Last Gasp” is a somber instrumental that imparts the same grim emptiness evoked by the denouement of Agalloch’s Ashes Against the Grain, making one feel as if they stand at the precipice of a swirling, matter-annihilating black hole. As the track advances, small hints of hope creep into the droning doom, imparting faint rays of light into the inky blackness. The album climaxes with horns blaring a sad but cautiously uplifting note, giving you the perfect ending to a truly stupendous journey. At 50 minutes, Heritage somehow feels much shorter, and despite the harrowing despair, you won’t want to escape its bleak cocoon. It almost hurts to hear the last strains fade away into silence. I haven’t had that experience in a long time. I’m at a loss to find flaws, and no song feels overlong or bloated. This is an album you must experience as a whole, and it’s shockingly easy to digest in its entirety.

I’m nothing but impressed by what Bram accomplished here. His writing is at another level, and his guitar work is stunning. He does so much by doing so little, always opting for feeling over showboating. His melodic touches are perfect and arrive at ideal times to take some of the burden from the listener’s shoulders. His heavy riffing is spot on, oppressive, pulverizing, and inevitable. He shows a great ability to inject real emotion into the music without leaning too much on Goth idioms. It’s all so well-crafted and defined that Heritage is more like a master’s canvas than a recording. Many moments triggered an emotional response in me, though I strenuously resist such things. Mr. Blankenstein was the perfect choice to provide vocals. His ungodly death roars are powerful and tooth-rattling, and he pairs superbly with the larger-than-life material. He’s the ideal doom-death front man, and this may be his finest hour. Ayreon / Star One singer Robert Soeterboek provides very sparse, understated, clean vocals and does a fine job.

When you spin an album as heavy and depressive as this and immediately want to hit replay, there’s something very right about it, and something very wrong with you. Heritage is as close to flawless as it gets, and I’m unable to pinpoint any areas that could be improved upon. This is a stunning accomplishment, and I can’t do Heritage justice with mere words. You need to experience this yourself. A MUST HEAR.

Rating: 4.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Ardua Music
Websites: structure-doom.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/structure.doom
Releases Worldwide: April 25th, 2025

#2025 #45 #Anathema #Apr25 #ArduaMusic #DeathMetal #DoomMetal #DutchMetal #Heritage #MyDyingBride #OfficiumTriste #Review #Reviews #Structure #The11thHour #Warning

Structure – Heritage Review

By Steel Druhm

Just when I thought I’d make it to May without awarding the coveted Steel ov Approval, an unheralded project erupts from the Netherlands and forces my unwilling hand. Structure is the labor of love of Bram Bijlhout, who served seven years as a guitarist in atmo-doom deathers Officium Triste. Now he’s putting his own spin on the genre, handling everything save for vocals and drums. In comes the esteemed Pim Blankenstein, also of Officium Triste and The 11th Hour, to handle the former, with Dirk Bruinenberg (Elegy, ex-Adagio) manning the latter. On the full-length debut, Structure prove this project can honor the doom Heritage that birthed it. This is a massive, monolithic slab of doom that paints a sweeping mural across your head and heart, all in gray and black. Crushing and gorgeous in equal parts, Heritage takes you on an immersive journey through the human experience, teaching you about fathomless despair, undying hope, and ultimately, redemption. It’s a staggering work of heartbreaking genius, and something every doom fan needs to know about.

The album opens with what may be the hands-down winner of Song o’ the Year, “Will I Deserve It.” It’s a monumental doom epic that caves in your chest with its raw power and brings a tear to the most jaded eye with its heart-wrenching beauty. Vaguely Bathorycore riffs thunder away as Pim emits inhumanly death bellows, and soon the melancholic trilling calls to the sadperson in all of us. It’s heavy as fook but maintains a forlorn, tragic air, taking one back to the glory days of the Peaceville Three and those early My Dying Bride and Anathema gems. When Bram cuts loose with his soloing at the 4-minute mark, bittersweet beauty blooms like springtime flowers over the grave of a dearly departed, like a gift to remind you that, no matter where their spirit roams, they’re with you always. I could write 750 words about this song alone, but suffice it to say, it’s brilliant. It’s the rare album that can match a radiant moment like this one, but Heritage is far from done with its smoke show. “What We Have Lost” drags things down into funeral doom territory for rib-cracking density before gradually evolving into a more melodic voyage. Bram’s emotive guitar weaves throughout the heaviness as minimalist piano lines plink mournfully, and Mr. Pim shakes the rafters with unbearable pain. It’s a wonder something this intensely despondent can be so captivating, but despite its nearly 8-minute runtime, when it ends, you’ll wish it hadn’t.

“Long Before Me” is even longer yet no less stunning. It’s so morose and gloriously depressive, it’s almost exhilarating. It sucks you in with its funereal trilling and carries you away in its dark embrace. The guitars from 5 minutes onward are so minimalist but pure perfection. The title track borrows much from Warning’s timeless Watching from a Distance, replicating that album’s unrelenting glumness perfectly, only to switch to Bolt Thrower-esque power chugs that threaten your very existence. Surrounding these moments are bright, melodic bits that take me back to Edge of Sanity’s Crimson. Closer “Until the Last Gasp” is a somber instrumental that imparts the same grim emptiness evoked by the denouement of Agalloch’s Ashes Against the Grain, making one feel as if they stand at the precipice of a swirling, matter-annihilating black hole. As the track advances, small hints of hope creep into the droning doom, imparting faint rays of light into the inky blackness. The album climaxes with horns blaring a sad but cautiously uplifting note, giving you the perfect ending to a truly stupendous journey. At 50 minutes, Heritage somehow feels much shorter, and despite the harrowing despair, you won’t want to escape its bleak cocoon. It almost hurts to hear the last strains fade away into silence. I haven’t had that experience in a long time. I’m at a loss to find flaws, and no song feels overlong or bloated. This is an album you must experience as a whole, and it’s shockingly easy to digest in its entirety.

I’m nothing but impressed by what Bram accomplished here. His writing is at another level, and his guitar work is stunning. He does so much by doing so little, always opting for feeling over showboating. His melodic touches are perfect and arrive at ideal times to take some of the burden from the listener’s shoulders. His heavy riffing is spot on, oppressive, pulverizing, and inevitable. He shows a great ability to inject real emotion into the music without leaning too much on Goth idioms. It’s all so well-crafted and defined that Heritage is more like a master’s canvas than a recording. Many moments triggered an emotional response in me, though I strenuously resist such things. Mr. Blankenstein was the perfect choice to provide vocals. His ungodly death roars are powerful and tooth-rattling, and he pairs superbly with the larger-than-life material. He’s the ideal doom-death front man, and this may be his finest hour. Ayreon / Star One singer Robert Soeterboek provides very sparse, understated, clean vocals and does a fine job.

When you spin an album as heavy and depressive as this and immediately want to hit replay, there’s something very right about it, and something very wrong with you. Heritage is as close to flawless as it gets, and I’m unable to pinpoint any areas that could be improved upon. This is a stunning accomplishment, and I can’t do Heritage justice with mere words. You need to experience this yourself. A MUST HEAR.

Rating: 4.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Ardua Music
Websites: structure-doom.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/structure.doom
Releases Worldwide: April 25th, 2025

#2025 #45 #Anathema #Apr25 #ArduaMusic #DeathMetal #DoomMetal #DutchMetal #Heritage #MyDyingBride #OfficiumTriste #Review #Reviews #Structure #The11thHour #Warning

Structure – Heritage Review

By Steel Druhm

Just when I thought I’d make it to May without awarding the coveted Steel ov Approval, an unheralded project erupts from the Netherlands and forces my unwilling hand. Structure is the labor of love of Bram Bijlhout, who served seven years as a guitarist in atmo-doom deathers Officium Triste. Now he’s putting his own spin on the genre, handling everything save for vocals and drums. In comes the esteemed Pim Blankenstein, also of Officium Triste and The 11th Hour, to handle the former, with Dirk Bruinenberg (Elegy, ex-Adagio) manning the latter. On the full-length debut, Structure prove this project can honor the doom Heritage that birthed it. This is a massive, monolithic slab of doom that paints a sweeping mural across your head and heart, all in gray and black. Crushing and gorgeous in equal parts, Heritage takes you on an immersive journey through the human experience, teaching you about fathomless despair, undying hope, and ultimately, redemption. It’s a staggering work of heartbreaking genius, and something every doom fan needs to know about.

The album opens with what may be the hands-down winner of Song o’ the Year, “Will I Deserve It.” It’s a monumental doom epic that caves in your chest with its raw power and brings a tear to the most jaded eye with its heart-wrenching beauty. Vaguely Bathorycore riffs thunder away as Pim emits inhumanly death bellows, and soon the melancholic trilling calls to the sadperson in all of us. It’s heavy as fook but maintains a forlorn, tragic air, taking one back to the glory days of the Peaceville Three and those early My Dying Bride and Anathema gems. When Bram cuts loose with his soloing at the 4-minute mark, bittersweet beauty blooms like springtime flowers over the grave of a dearly departed, like a gift to remind you that, no matter where their spirit roams, they’re with you always. I could write 750 words about this song alone, but suffice it to say, it’s brilliant. It’s the rare album that can match a radiant moment like this one, but Heritage is far from done with its smoke show. “What We Have Lost” drags things down into funeral doom territory for rib-cracking density before gradually evolving into a more melodic voyage. Bram’s emotive guitar weaves throughout the heaviness as minimalist piano lines plink mournfully, and Mr. Pim shakes the rafters with unbearable pain. It’s a wonder something this intensely despondent can be so captivating, but despite its nearly 8-minute runtime, when it ends, you’ll wish it hadn’t.

“Long Before Me” is even longer yet no less stunning. It’s so morose and gloriously depressive, it’s almost exhilarating. It sucks you in with its funereal trilling and carries you away in its dark embrace. The guitars from 5 minutes onward are so minimalist but pure perfection. The title track borrows much from Warning’s timeless Watching from a Distance, replicating that album’s unrelenting glumness perfectly, only to switch to Bolt Thrower-esque power chugs that threaten your very existence. Surrounding these moments are bright, melodic bits that take me back to Edge of Sanity’s Crimson. Closer “Until the Last Gasp” is a somber instrumental that imparts the same grim emptiness evoked by the denouement of Agalloch’s Ashes Against the Grain, making one feel as if they stand at the precipice of a swirling, matter-annihilating black hole. As the track advances, small hints of hope creep into the droning doom, imparting faint rays of light into the inky blackness. The album climaxes with horns blaring a sad but cautiously uplifting note, giving you the perfect ending to a truly stupendous journey. At 50 minutes, Heritage somehow feels much shorter, and despite the harrowing despair, you won’t want to escape its bleak cocoon. It almost hurts to hear the last strains fade away into silence. I haven’t had that experience in a long time. I’m at a loss to find flaws, and no song feels overlong or bloated. This is an album you must experience as a whole, and it’s shockingly easy to digest in its entirety.

I’m nothing but impressed by what Bram accomplished here. His writing is at another level, and his guitar work is stunning. He does so much by doing so little, always opting for feeling over showboating. His melodic touches are perfect and arrive at ideal times to take some of the burden from the listener’s shoulders. His heavy riffing is spot on, oppressive, pulverizing, and inevitable. He shows a great ability to inject real emotion into the music without leaning too much on Goth idioms. It’s all so well-crafted and defined that Heritage is more like a master’s canvas than a recording. Many moments triggered an emotional response in me, though I strenuously resist such things. Mr. Blankenstein was the perfect choice to provide vocals. His ungodly death roars are powerful and tooth-rattling, and he pairs superbly with the larger-than-life material. He’s the ideal doom-death front man, and this may be his finest hour. Ayreon / Star One singer Robert Soeterboek provides very sparse, understated, clean vocals and does a fine job.

When you spin an album as heavy and depressive as this and immediately want to hit replay, there’s something very right about it, and something very wrong with you. Heritage is as close to flawless as it gets, and I’m unable to pinpoint any areas that could be improved upon. This is a stunning accomplishment, and I can’t do Heritage justice with mere words. You need to experience this yourself. A MUST HEAR.

Rating: 4.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Ardua Music
Websites: structure-doom.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/structure.doom
Releases Worldwide: April 25th, 2025

#2025 #45 #Anathema #Apr25 #ArduaMusic #DeathMetal #DoomMetal #DutchMetal #Heritage #MyDyingBride #OfficiumTriste #Review #Reviews #Structure #The11thHour #Warning

Structure – Heritage Review

By Steel Druhm

Just when I thought I’d make it to May without awarding the coveted Steel ov Approval, an unheralded project erupts from the Netherlands and forces my unwilling hand. Structure is the labor of love of Bram Bijlhout, who served seven years as a guitarist in atmo-doom deathers Officium Triste. Now he’s putting his own spin on the genre, handling everything save for vocals and drums. In comes the esteemed Pim Blankenstein, also of Officium Triste and The 11th Hour, to handle the former, with Dirk Bruinenberg (Elegy, ex-Adagio) manning the latter. On the full-length debut, Structure prove this project can honor the doom Heritage that birthed it. This is a massive, monolithic slab of doom that paints a sweeping mural across your head and heart, all in gray and black. Crushing and gorgeous in equal parts, Heritage takes you on an immersive journey through the human experience, teaching you about fathomless despair, undying hope, and ultimately, redemption. It’s a staggering work of heartbreaking genius, and something every doom fan needs to know about.

The album opens with what may be the hands-down winner of Song o’ the Year, “Will I Deserve It.” It’s a monumental doom epic that caves in your chest with its raw power and brings a tear to the most jaded eye with its heart-wrenching beauty. Vaguely Bathorycore riffs thunder away as Pim emits inhumanly death bellows, and soon the melancholic trilling calls to the sadperson in all of us. It’s heavy as fook but maintains a forlorn, tragic air, taking one back to the glory days of the Peaceville Three and those early My Dying Bride and Anathema gems. When Bram cuts loose with his soloing at the 4-minute mark, bittersweet beauty blooms like springtime flowers over the grave of a dearly departed, like a gift to remind you that, no matter where their spirit roams, they’re with you always. I could write 750 words about this song alone, but suffice it to say, it’s brilliant. It’s the rare album that can match a radiant moment like this one, but Heritage is far from done with its smoke show. “What We Have Lost” drags things down into funeral doom territory for rib-cracking density before gradually evolving into a more melodic voyage. Bram’s emotive guitar weaves throughout the heaviness as minimalist piano lines plink mournfully, and Mr. Pim shakes the rafters with unbearable pain. It’s a wonder something this intensely despondent can be so captivating, but despite its nearly 8-minute runtime, when it ends, you’ll wish it hadn’t.

“Long Before Me” is even longer yet no less stunning. It’s so morose and gloriously depressive, it’s almost exhilarating. It sucks you in with its funereal trilling and carries you away in its dark embrace. The guitars from 5 minutes onward are so minimalist but pure perfection. The title track borrows much from Warning’s timeless Watching from a Distance, replicating that album’s unrelenting glumness perfectly, only to switch to Bolt Thrower-esque power chugs that threaten your very existence. Surrounding these moments are bright, melodic bits that take me back to Edge of Sanity’s Crimson. Closer “Until the Last Gasp” is a somber instrumental that imparts the same grim emptiness evoked by the denouement of Agalloch’s Ashes Against the Grain, making one feel as if they stand at the precipice of a swirling, matter-annihilating black hole. As the track advances, small hints of hope creep into the droning doom, imparting faint rays of light into the inky blackness. The album climaxes with horns blaring a sad but cautiously uplifting note, giving you the perfect ending to a truly stupendous journey. At 50 minutes, Heritage somehow feels much shorter, and despite the harrowing despair, you won’t want to escape its bleak cocoon. It almost hurts to hear the last strains fade away into silence. I haven’t had that experience in a long time. I’m at a loss to find flaws, and no song feels overlong or bloated. This is an album you must experience as a whole, and it’s shockingly easy to digest in its entirety.

I’m nothing but impressed by what Bram accomplished here. His writing is at another level, and his guitar work is stunning. He does so much by doing so little, always opting for feeling over showboating. His melodic touches are perfect and arrive at ideal times to take some of the burden from the listener’s shoulders. His heavy riffing is spot on, oppressive, pulverizing, and inevitable. He shows a great ability to inject real emotion into the music without leaning too much on Goth idioms. It’s all so well-crafted and defined that Heritage is more like a master’s canvas than a recording. Many moments triggered an emotional response in me, though I strenuously resist such things. Mr. Blankenstein was the perfect choice to provide vocals. His ungodly death roars are powerful and tooth-rattling, and he pairs superbly with the larger-than-life material. He’s the ideal doom-death front man, and this may be his finest hour. Ayreon / Star One singer Robert Soeterboek provides very sparse, understated, clean vocals and does a fine job.

When you spin an album as heavy and depressive as this and immediately want to hit replay, there’s something very right about it, and something very wrong with you. Heritage is as close to flawless as it gets, and I’m unable to pinpoint any areas that could be improved upon. This is a stunning accomplishment, and I can’t do Heritage justice with mere words. You need to experience this yourself. A MUST HEAR.

Rating: 4.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Ardua Music
Websites: structure-doom.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/structure.doom
Releases Worldwide: April 25th, 2025

#2025 #45 #Anathema #Apr25 #ArduaMusic #DeathMetal #DoomMetal #DutchMetal #Heritage #MyDyingBride #OfficiumTriste #Review #Reviews #Structure #The11thHour #Warning