#mydyingbride — Public Fediverse posts

A Forest of Stars – Stack Overflow in Corpse Pile Interface Review

There’s a common misconception from readers of this fine blog that we writers are well-versed, well-traveled, and have…
#NewsBeep #News #Music #2026 #4.0 #AForestofStars #AU #Australia #AvantgardeMetal #BritishMetal #Entertainment #May26 #MyDyingBride #ProphecyProductions #review #reviews #StackOverflowinCorpsePileInterface #voices
https://www.newsbeep.com/au/656550/

A Forest of Stars – Stack Overflow in Corpse Pile Interface Review

There’s a common misconception from readers of this fine blog that we writers are well-versed, well-traveled, and have…
#NewsBeep #News #Music #2026 #4.0 #AForestofStars #AU #Australia #AvantgardeMetal #BritishMetal #Entertainment #May26 #MyDyingBride #ProphecyProductions #review #reviews #StackOverflowinCorpsePileInterface #voices
https://www.newsbeep.com/au/656550/

https://www.europesays.com/ie/473737/ A Forest of Stars – Stack Overflow in Corpse Pile Interface Review #2026 #40 #AForestOfStars #AvantgardeMetal #BritishMetal #Éire #Entertainment #IE #Ireland #May26 #Music #MyDyingBride #ProphecyProductions #Review #Reviews #StackOverflowInCorpsePileInterface #voices

A Forest of Stars – Stack Overflow in Corpse Pile Interface Review

There’s a common misconception from readers of this fine blog that we writers are well-versed, well-traveled, and have…
#NewsBeep #News #US #USA #UnitedStates #UnitedStatesOfAmerica #Music #2026 #4.0 #AForestofStars #AvantgardeMetal #BritishMetal #Entertainment #May26 #MyDyingBride #ProphecyProductions #review #reviews #StackOverflowinCorpsePileInterface #Voices
https://www.newsbeep.com/us/629629/

A Forest of Stars – Stack Overflow in Corpse Pile Interface Review

There’s a common misconception from readers of this fine blog that we writers are well-versed, well-traveled, and have…
#NewsBeep #News #US #USA #UnitedStates #UnitedStatesOfAmerica #Music #2026 #4.0 #AForestofStars #AvantgardeMetal #BritishMetal #Entertainment #May26 #MyDyingBride #ProphecyProductions #review #reviews #StackOverflowinCorpsePileInterface #Voices
https://www.newsbeep.com/us/629629/

A Forest of Stars – Stack Overflow in Corpse Pile Interface Review

There’s a common misconception from readers of this fine blog that we writers are well-versed, well-traveled, and have…
#NewsBeep #News #Music #2026 #4.0 #AForestofStars #AvantgardeMetal #BritishMetal #Entertainment #May26 #MyDyingBride #ProphecyProductions #review #Reviews #StackOverflowinCorpsePileInterface #UK #UnitedKingdom #voices
https://www.newsbeep.com/uk/571725/

https://www.europesays.com/uk/944629/ A Forest of Stars – Stack Overflow in Corpse Pile Interface Review #2026 #40 #AForestOfStars #AvantgardeMetal #BritishMetal #Entertainment #May26 #music #MyDyingBride #ProphecyProductions #Review #Reviews #StackOverflowInCorpsePileInterface #UK #UnitedKingdom #voices

There’s a common misconception from readers of this fine blog that we writers are well-versed, well-traveled, and have kept abreast of all the happenings and goings-on within the world of our favorite genre of music. I hate to pop your bubble gum, but that’s wildly untrue. We all have lives, careers, and people in our lives that take time away from listening to new music from artists that we have always loved or, in my case here, artists we’ve been wanting to check out, but for some reason haven’t. A Forest of Stars, the British avant-garde septet, are that band for me. Their newest, Stack Overflow in Corpse Pile Interface, their first album in eight years and sixth overall, is here for dissection, and I’m going in almost completely blind, and without a single note heard prior.

I’m already anticipating the hate mail for this, but from what everyone told me of AFoS, it’s a heady mix of British Black Metal,1 doom metal, and spoken word. All good things, in my book! Plus, Katheryne, Queen of the Ghosts helped bring back the violins for My Dying Bride’s 2009 album, For Lies I Sire, which again is a good thing! And despite it being over 73 minutes, Stack Overflow rarely meandered or sat in place for too long, making for an engaging listen throughout. Opener “Ascension of the Clowns” sets a doomed tone, quietly and somberly setting the scene before Mister Curse begins ranting like the proselytizers across the street from where I work. Maniacal and unrelenting, Curse’s caustic delivery and unhinged performances sometimes seem at odds with the framework of the music, but the two sides need each other as much as they want nothing to do with each other.

And that odd dichotomy propels Stack Overflow, especially in the final half-hour-plus one-two punch of both “Sway, Draped in Vague” and “Not Drinking Water.” The former, also awakening a faux dreamy vibe before sending the listener careening through the backstreets of London, with Curse and Katheryne trading off vocal lines while Mr. T.S. Kettleburner and Mr. William Wight-Barrow unleash some incredible riffs and tremolo melodies blanketing Katheryne’s sweeping violins towards the song’s middle, making the song’s 17 minutes feel like a journey. “Not Drinking Water,” in contrast, feels downtrodden in the beginning, containing some of the album’s slowest moments, before hitting what could accurately be called a humdinger of a jam session right at the song’s midpoint, with solos and hooks galore to wrap up both a fantastic closer, as well as a hell of a way to finish out the album.

Of course, there are some issues with Stack Overflow. While most of the material flows seamlessly, there does seem to be some fat to trim, especially in some of the more atmospheric moments. Also, while there isn’t a single weak moment on the album, it really is best experienced in one sitting with most of the lights off, some candles, your favorite beverage, and (if you partake) your smoking implement of choice, and for some, 73 minutes is a big ask for many of us, especially if you’re busy like I am. However, if you can make the time and get in the right headspace, you will be rewarded handsomely.

I’m due for some weirdness, especially in the departure of Voices.2 Not only does Stack Overflow in Corpse Pile Interface scratch that itch until it bleeds, but it also turned me on to a band that I went from “I need to check them out sometime” to “Okay, how much is their stuff on Bandcamp?” in record time. A Forest of Stars, in a just world, should be heralded as purveyors of odd, eclectic metal. Here’s hoping that Stack Overflow in Corpse Pile Interface is as much a jumping-on point for many of you as it was for me. Believe me, you can do a hell of a lot worse.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Prophecy Productions
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: May 8th, 2026

There’s a common misconception from readers of this fine blog that we writers are well-versed, well-traveled, and have kept abreast of all the happenings and goings-on within the world of our favorite genre of music. I hate to pop your bubble gum, but that’s wildly untrue. We all have lives, careers, and people in our lives that take time away from listening to new music from artists that we have always loved or, in my case here, artists we’ve been wanting to check out, but for some reason haven’t. A Forest of Stars, the British avant-garde septet, are that band for me. Their newest, Stack Overflow in Corpse Pile Interface, their first album in eight years and sixth overall, is here for dissection, and I’m going in almost completely blind, and without a single note heard prior.

I’m already anticipating the hate mail for this, but from what everyone told me of AFoS, it’s a heady mix of British Black Metal,1 doom metal, and spoken word. All good things, in my book! Plus, Katheryne, Queen of the Ghosts helped bring back the violins for My Dying Bride’s 2009 album, For Lies I Sire, which again is a good thing! And despite it being over 73 minutes, Stack Overflow rarely meandered or sat in place for too long, making for an engaging listen throughout. Opener “Ascension of the Clowns” sets a doomed tone, quietly and somberly setting the scene before Mister Curse begins ranting like the proselytizers across the street from where I work. Maniacal and unrelenting, Curse’s caustic delivery and unhinged performances sometimes seem at odds with the framework of the music, but the two sides need each other as much as they want nothing to do with each other.

And that odd dichotomy propels Stack Overflow, especially in the final half-hour-plus one-two punch of both “Sway, Draped in Vague” and “Not Drinking Water.” The former, also awakening a faux dreamy vibe before sending the listener careening through the backstreets of London, with Curse and Katheryne trading off vocal lines while Mr. T.S. Kettleburner and Mr. William Wight-Barrow unleash some incredible riffs and tremolo melodies blanketing Katheryne’s sweeping violins towards the song’s middle, making the song’s 17 minutes feel like a journey. “Not Drinking Water,” in contrast, feels downtrodden in the beginning, containing some of the album’s slowest moments, before hitting what could accurately be called a humdinger of a jam session right at the song’s midpoint, with solos and hooks galore to wrap up both a fantastic closer, as well as a hell of a way to finish out the album.

Of course, there are some issues with Stack Overflow. While most of the material flows seamlessly, there does seem to be some fat to trim, especially in some of the more atmospheric moments. Also, while there isn’t a single weak moment on the album, it really is best experienced in one sitting with most of the lights off, some candles, your favorite beverage, and (if you partake) your smoking implement of choice, and for some, 73 minutes is a big ask for many of us, especially if you’re busy like I am. However, if you can make the time and get in the right headspace, you will be rewarded handsomely.

I’m due for some weirdness, especially in the departure of Voices.2 Not only does Stack Overflow in Corpse Pile Interface scratch that itch until it bleeds, but it also turned me on to a band that I went from “I need to check them out sometime” to “Okay, how much is their stuff on Bandcamp?” in record time. A Forest of Stars, in a just world, should be heralded as purveyors of odd, eclectic metal. Here’s hoping that Stack Overflow in Corpse Pile Interface is as much a jumping-on point for many of you as it was for me. Believe me, you can do a hell of a lot worse.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Prophecy Productions
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: May 8th, 2026

There’s a common misconception from readers of this fine blog that we writers are well-versed, well-traveled, and have kept abreast of all the happenings and goings-on within the world of our favorite genre of music. I hate to pop your bubble gum, but that’s wildly untrue. We all have lives, careers, and people in our lives that take time away from listening to new music from artists that we have always loved or, in my case here, artists we’ve been wanting to check out, but for some reason haven’t. A Forest of Stars, the British avant-garde septet, are that band for me. Their newest, Stack Overflow in Corpse Pile Interface, their first album in eight years and sixth overall, is here for dissection, and I’m going in almost completely blind, and without a single note heard prior.

I’m already anticipating the hate mail for this, but from what everyone told me of AFoS, it’s a heady mix of British Black Metal,1 doom metal, and spoken word. All good things, in my book! Plus, Katheryne, Queen of the Ghosts helped bring back the violins for My Dying Bride’s 2009 album, For Lies I Sire, which again is a good thing! And despite it being over 73 minutes, Stack Overflow rarely meandered or sat in place for too long, making for an engaging listen throughout. Opener “Ascension of the Clowns” sets a doomed tone, quietly and somberly setting the scene before Mister Curse begins ranting like the proselytizers across the street from where I work. Maniacal and unrelenting, Curse’s caustic delivery and unhinged performances sometimes seem at odds with the framework of the music, but the two sides need each other as much as they want nothing to do with each other.

And that odd dichotomy propels Stack Overflow, especially in the final half-hour-plus one-two punch of both “Sway, Draped in Vague” and “Not Drinking Water.” The former, also awakening a faux dreamy vibe before sending the listener careening through the backstreets of London, with Curse and Katheryne trading off vocal lines while Mr. T.S. Kettleburner and Mr. William Wight-Barrow unleash some incredible riffs and tremolo melodies blanketing Katheryne’s sweeping violins towards the song’s middle, making the song’s 17 minutes feel like a journey. “Not Drinking Water,” in contrast, feels downtrodden in the beginning, containing some of the album’s slowest moments, before hitting what could accurately be called a humdinger of a jam session right at the song’s midpoint, with solos and hooks galore to wrap up both a fantastic closer, as well as a hell of a way to finish out the album.

Of course, there are some issues with Stack Overflow. While most of the material flows seamlessly, there does seem to be some fat to trim, especially in some of the more atmospheric moments. Also, while there isn’t a single weak moment on the album, it really is best experienced in one sitting with most of the lights off, some candles, your favorite beverage, and (if you partake) your smoking implement of choice, and for some, 73 minutes is a big ask for many of us, especially if you’re busy like I am. However, if you can make the time and get in the right headspace, you will be rewarded handsomely.

I’m due for some weirdness, especially in the departure of Voices.2 Not only does Stack Overflow in Corpse Pile Interface scratch that itch until it bleeds, but it also turned me on to a band that I went from “I need to check them out sometime” to “Okay, how much is their stuff on Bandcamp?” in record time. A Forest of Stars, in a just world, should be heralded as purveyors of odd, eclectic metal. Here’s hoping that Stack Overflow in Corpse Pile Interface is as much a jumping-on point for many of you as it was for me. Believe me, you can do a hell of a lot worse.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Prophecy Productions
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: May 8th, 2026

There’s a common misconception from readers of this fine blog that we writers are well-versed, well-traveled, and have kept abreast of all the happenings and goings-on within the world of our favorite genre of music. I hate to pop your bubble gum, but that’s wildly untrue. We all have lives, careers, and people in our lives that take time away from listening to new music from artists that we have always loved or, in my case here, artists we’ve been wanting to check out, but for some reason haven’t. A Forest of Stars, the British avant-garde septet, are that band for me. Their newest, Stack Overflow in Corpse Pile Interface, their first album in eight years and sixth overall, is here for dissection, and I’m going in almost completely blind, and without a single note heard prior.

I’m already anticipating the hate mail for this, but from what everyone told me of AFoS, it’s a heady mix of British Black Metal,1 doom metal, and spoken word. All good things, in my book! Plus, Katheryne, Queen of the Ghosts helped bring back the violins for My Dying Bride’s 2009 album, For Lies I Sire, which again is a good thing! And despite it being over 73 minutes, Stack Overflow rarely meandered or sat in place for too long, making for an engaging listen throughout. Opener “Ascension of the Clowns” sets a doomed tone, quietly and somberly setting the scene before Mister Curse begins ranting like the proselytizers across the street from where I work. Maniacal and unrelenting, Curse’s caustic delivery and unhinged performances sometimes seem at odds with the framework of the music, but the two sides need each other as much as they want nothing to do with each other.

And that odd dichotomy propels Stack Overflow, especially in the final half-hour-plus one-two punch of both “Sway, Draped in Vague” and “Not Drinking Water.” The former, also awakening a faux dreamy vibe before sending the listener careening through the backstreets of London, with Curse and Katheryne trading off vocal lines while Mr. T.S. Kettleburner and Mr. William Wight-Barrow unleash some incredible riffs and tremolo melodies blanketing Katheryne’s sweeping violins towards the song’s middle, making the song’s 17 minutes feel like a journey. “Not Drinking Water,” in contrast, feels downtrodden in the beginning, containing some of the album’s slowest moments, before hitting what could accurately be called a humdinger of a jam session right at the song’s midpoint, with solos and hooks galore to wrap up both a fantastic closer, as well as a hell of a way to finish out the album.

Of course, there are some issues with Stack Overflow. While most of the material flows seamlessly, there does seem to be some fat to trim, especially in some of the more atmospheric moments. Also, while there isn’t a single weak moment on the album, it really is best experienced in one sitting with most of the lights off, some candles, your favorite beverage, and (if you partake) your smoking implement of choice, and for some, 73 minutes is a big ask for many of us, especially if you’re busy like I am. However, if you can make the time and get in the right headspace, you will be rewarded handsomely.

I’m due for some weirdness, especially in the departure of Voices.2 Not only does Stack Overflow in Corpse Pile Interface scratch that itch until it bleeds, but it also turned me on to a band that I went from “I need to check them out sometime” to “Okay, how much is their stuff on Bandcamp?” in record time. A Forest of Stars, in a just world, should be heralded as purveyors of odd, eclectic metal. Here’s hoping that Stack Overflow in Corpse Pile Interface is as much a jumping-on point for many of you as it was for me. Believe me, you can do a hell of a lot worse.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Prophecy Productions
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: May 8th, 2026

There’s a common misconception from readers of this fine blog that we writers are well-versed, well-traveled, and have kept abreast of all the happenings and goings-on within the world of our favorite genre of music. I hate to pop your bubble gum, but that’s wildly untrue. We all have lives, careers, and people in our lives that take time away from listening to new music from artists that we have always loved or, in my case here, artists we’ve been wanting to check out, but for some reason haven’t. A Forest of Stars, the British avant-garde septet, are that band for me. Their newest, Stack Overflow in Corpse Pile Interface, their first album in eight years and sixth overall, is here for dissection, and I’m going in almost completely blind, and without a single note heard prior.

I’m already anticipating the hate mail for this, but from what everyone told me of AFoS, it’s a heady mix of British Black Metal,1 doom metal, and spoken word. All good things, in my book! Plus, Katheryne, Queen of the Ghosts helped bring back the violins for My Dying Bride’s 2009 album, For Lies I Sire, which again is a good thing! And despite it being over 73 minutes, Stack Overflow rarely meandered or sat in place for too long, making for an engaging listen throughout. Opener “Ascension of the Clowns” sets a doomed tone, quietly and somberly setting the scene before Mister Curse begins ranting like the proselytizers across the street from where I work. Maniacal and unrelenting, Curse’s caustic delivery and unhinged performances sometimes seem at odds with the framework of the music, but the two sides need each other as much as they want nothing to do with each other.

And that odd dichotomy propels Stack Overflow, especially in the final half-hour-plus one-two punch of both “Sway, Draped in Vague” and “Not Drinking Water.” The former, also awakening a faux dreamy vibe before sending the listener careening through the backstreets of London, with Curse and Katheryne trading off vocal lines while Mr. T.S. Kettleburner and Mr. William Wight-Barrow unleash some incredible riffs and tremolo melodies blanketing Katheryne’s sweeping violins towards the song’s middle, making the song’s 17 minutes feel like a journey. “Not Drinking Water,” in contrast, feels downtrodden in the beginning, containing some of the album’s slowest moments, before hitting what could accurately be called a humdinger of a jam session right at the song’s midpoint, with solos and hooks galore to wrap up both a fantastic closer, as well as a hell of a way to finish out the album.

Of course, there are some issues with Stack Overflow. While most of the material flows seamlessly, there does seem to be some fat to trim, especially in some of the more atmospheric moments. Also, while there isn’t a single weak moment on the album, it really is best experienced in one sitting with most of the lights off, some candles, your favorite beverage, and (if you partake) your smoking implement of choice, and for some, 73 minutes is a big ask for many of us, especially if you’re busy like I am. However, if you can make the time and get in the right headspace, you will be rewarded handsomely.

I’m due for some weirdness, especially in the departure of Voices.2 Not only does Stack Overflow in Corpse Pile Interface scratch that itch until it bleeds, but it also turned me on to a band that I went from “I need to check them out sometime” to “Okay, how much is their stuff on Bandcamp?” in record time. A Forest of Stars, in a just world, should be heralded as purveyors of odd, eclectic metal. Here’s hoping that Stack Overflow in Corpse Pile Interface is as much a jumping-on point for many of you as it was for me. Believe me, you can do a hell of a lot worse.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Prophecy Productions
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: May 8th, 2026

A Dream of Poe – Katabasis: A Marriage Among Ashes Review

Miguel Santos loves Edgar Allan Poe. He turned that love into a (sort of) one-man metal project called…
#NewsBeep #News #Music #2026 #3.5 #ADreamofPoe #Apr26 #CA #Canada #Dolven #DoomMetal #Entertainment #FuneralDoom #Katabasis:AMarriageAmongAshes #MeuseMusic #MyDyingBride #ParadiseLost #PortugueseMetal #review #reviews #SymphonicDoom #SymphonicMetal #TempestuousFall
https://www.newsbeep.com/ca/625651/

Miguel Santos loves Edgar Allan Poe. He turned that love into a (sort of) one-man metal project called A Dream of Poe and uses a place called Tell-Tale Studios for mixing and mastering his records—Poe is clearly dear to his heart. The musical dream nearly crumbled, however, when a fire ravaged Santos’s home, destroying the music he’d written for his latest album—all but one song. This must have been devastating, yet from the ashes he resurrected the music and its tale about one character’s descent into the lowest of places: the underworld. Katabasis: A Marriage Among Ashes uses the symbolism of ashes as a parallel to Santos’s own personal tragedy in order to chronicle the agony of loss. The result is an album defined not by bleak darkness, but a sad beauty.

If you’re going to create a band inspired by Poe, there’s no genre more fitting than gothic doom mixed with the classical Romanticism of symphonic instruments. A Dream of Poe takes the form of My Dying Bride without its crushing brutality and the classicism of Tempestuous Fall without its opulence. Katabasis is a surprisingly tender and gentle piece of doom. The pianos and violins add a soft touch, and the guitars strum lovely melodies. The marriage of gentle and lightly brutal opens things on the poignant “The Wail of Gaea,” where the strings and pianos take turns setting a melancholic tone. “The Lament of Phaethon” begins with arpeggios and vocals that take on a folky Dolven vibe, and blaring horns late in the song tell of bad omens to come. Santos shows a knack for hooky choruses, particularly on the catchy “Lamia.” The hookiness returns on the finale, “À Medida de Damastes,” sung in what I assume is Santos’s native Portuguese. This tune kicks up the energy slightly, à la Paradise Lost, before descending into a chilling surge of terror that shatters the peace A Dream of Poe had previously maintained.

A Dream of Poe is technically a one-man project, yet Santos collaborates with a number of musicians who help shape Katabasis. Two of these collaborators split the bulk of the singing duties. Kaivan Saraei handles the first four tracks, with a voice that carries a gothic calm, evoking Dolven’s Jori Apedaile. João Melo, who closes the record out, has a more earthy tone that grows rawer when it increases in intensity. Santos himself contributes, briefly, with some growls that may be underpowered, but fit with the gentler nature of the album. Though Santos handles almost all instruments, other musicians aid in some small but important roles. Ruben Correia plays several guitar solos across Katabasis, providing some nice breaks from the gloom, notably on “Lamia” and “The Captivity of Hesperus.” Correia also plays violins on “The Lament of Phaethon” and “Lamia,” where he brings an organic and poignant touch to what are already terrific tunes. Regardless of who contributes, the musicians pour their hearts and souls into creating this emotionally striking work of art.

With funeral doom, lengthy slow burns are par for the course, yet writing a song that doesn’t overextend itself becomes a tricky balancing act. A majority of tracks on Katabasis fall in the seven-minute range and feel just right. The eleven-minute “Exhorting Nightmares” proves an exception. At seven minutes, it would have been fine, yet Santos keeps it going and even tacks on an ill-advised spoken word section towards the end. On the whole, Katabasis falls into a rather tight 45 minutes, so it’s only a minor complaint. The only other knock against the record is the lack of power behind the guitars and growls. A Dream of Poe is not aiming for the sort of power that My Dying Bride consistently delivers, but a little extra oomph here and there would have made a greater emotional impact.

It would have been so easy to give up in the midst of the loss Santos suffered. Yet he forged ahead and revived his lost music. While Katabasis presents a descent into a bleak place, there is something triumphant in the finished product. Santos, it seems, found himself at the edge of the pit, the imp within contemplating the fall, before the pendulum swung back and pulled him from the brink. He heard the beat of the Tell-Tale Studios and found himself driven not by madness, but by a desire to create his music and leave an indelible mark on the world of heavy metal.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Meuse Music
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: April 24th, 2026

Miguel Santos loves Edgar Allan Poe. He turned that love into a (sort of) one-man metal project called A Dream of Poe and uses a place called Tell-Tale Studios for mixing and mastering his records—Poe is clearly dear to his heart. The musical dream nearly crumbled, however, when a fire ravaged Santos’s home, destroying the music he’d written for his latest album—all but one song. This must have been devastating, yet from the ashes he resurrected the music and its tale about one character’s descent into the lowest of places: the underworld. Katabasis: A Marriage Among Ashes uses the symbolism of ashes as a parallel to Santos’s own personal tragedy in order to chronicle the agony of loss. The result is an album defined not by bleak darkness, but a sad beauty.

If you’re going to create a band inspired by Poe, there’s no genre more fitting than gothic doom mixed with the classical Romanticism of symphonic instruments. A Dream of Poe takes the form of My Dying Bride without its crushing brutality and the classicism of Tempestuous Fall without its opulence. Katabasis is a surprisingly tender and gentle piece of doom. The pianos and violins add a soft touch, and the guitars strum lovely melodies. The marriage of gentle and lightly brutal opens things on the poignant “The Wail of Gaea,” where the strings and pianos take turns setting a melancholic tone. “The Lament of Phaethon” begins with arpeggios and vocals that take on a folky Dolven vibe, and blaring horns late in the song tell of bad omens to come. Santos shows a knack for hooky choruses, particularly on the catchy “Lamia.” The hookiness returns on the finale, “À Medida de Damastes,” sung in what I assume is Santos’s native Portuguese. This tune kicks up the energy slightly, à la Paradise Lost, before descending into a chilling surge of terror that shatters the peace A Dream of Poe had previously maintained.

A Dream of Poe is technically a one-man project, yet Santos collaborates with a number of musicians who help shape Katabasis. Two of these collaborators split the bulk of the singing duties. Kaivan Saraei handles the first four tracks, with a voice that carries a gothic calm, evoking Dolven’s Jori Apedaile. João Melo, who closes the record out, has a more earthy tone that grows rawer when it increases in intensity. Santos himself contributes, briefly, with some growls that may be underpowered, but fit with the gentler nature of the album. Though Santos handles almost all instruments, other musicians aid in some small but important roles. Ruben Correia plays several guitar solos across Katabasis, providing some nice breaks from the gloom, notably on “Lamia” and “The Captivity of Hesperus.” Correia also plays violins on “The Lament of Phaethon” and “Lamia,” where he brings an organic and poignant touch to what are already terrific tunes. Regardless of who contributes, the musicians pour their hearts and souls into creating this emotionally striking work of art.

With funeral doom, lengthy slow burns are par for the course, yet writing a song that doesn’t overextend itself becomes a tricky balancing act. A majority of tracks on Katabasis fall in the seven-minute range and feel just right. The eleven-minute “Exhorting Nightmares” proves an exception. At seven minutes, it would have been fine, yet Santos keeps it going and even tacks on an ill-advised spoken word section towards the end. On the whole, Katabasis falls into a rather tight 45 minutes, so it’s only a minor complaint. The only other knock against the record is the lack of power behind the guitars and growls. A Dream of Poe is not aiming for the sort of power that My Dying Bride consistently delivers, but a little extra oomph here and there would have made a greater emotional impact.

It would have been so easy to give up in the midst of the loss Santos suffered. Yet he forged ahead and revived his lost music. While Katabasis presents a descent into a bleak place, there is something triumphant in the finished product. Santos, it seems, found himself at the edge of the pit, the imp within contemplating the fall, before the pendulum swung back and pulled him from the brink. He heard the beat of the Tell-Tale Studios and found himself driven not by madness, but by a desire to create his music and leave an indelible mark on the world of heavy metal.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Meuse Music
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: April 24th, 2026

Miguel Santos loves Edgar Allan Poe. He turned that love into a (sort of) one-man metal project called A Dream of Poe and uses a place called Tell-Tale Studios for mixing and mastering his records—Poe is clearly dear to his heart. The musical dream nearly crumbled, however, when a fire ravaged Santos’s home, destroying the music he’d written for his latest album—all but one song. This must have been devastating, yet from the ashes he resurrected the music and its tale about one character’s descent into the lowest of places: the underworld. Katabasis: A Marriage Among Ashes uses the symbolism of ashes as a parallel to Santos’s own personal tragedy in order to chronicle the agony of loss. The result is an album defined not by bleak darkness, but a sad beauty.

If you’re going to create a band inspired by Poe, there’s no genre more fitting than gothic doom mixed with the classical Romanticism of symphonic instruments. A Dream of Poe takes the form of My Dying Bride without its crushing brutality and the classicism of Tempestuous Fall without its opulence. Katabasis is a surprisingly tender and gentle piece of doom. The pianos and violins add a soft touch, and the guitars strum lovely melodies. The marriage of gentle and lightly brutal opens things on the poignant “The Wail of Gaea,” where the strings and pianos take turns setting a melancholic tone. “The Lament of Phaethon” begins with arpeggios and vocals that take on a folky Dolven vibe, and blaring horns late in the song tell of bad omens to come. Santos shows a knack for hooky choruses, particularly on the catchy “Lamia.” The hookiness returns on the finale, “À Medida de Damastes,” sung in what I assume is Santos’s native Portuguese. This tune kicks up the energy slightly, à la Paradise Lost, before descending into a chilling surge of terror that shatters the peace A Dream of Poe had previously maintained.

A Dream of Poe is technically a one-man project, yet Santos collaborates with a number of musicians who help shape Katabasis. Two of these collaborators split the bulk of the singing duties. Kaivan Saraei handles the first four tracks, with a voice that carries a gothic calm, evoking Dolven’s Jori Apedaile. João Melo, who closes the record out, has a more earthy tone that grows rawer when it increases in intensity. Santos himself contributes, briefly, with some growls that may be underpowered, but fit with the gentler nature of the album. Though Santos handles almost all instruments, other musicians aid in some small but important roles. Ruben Correia plays several guitar solos across Katabasis, providing some nice breaks from the gloom, notably on “Lamia” and “The Captivity of Hesperus.” Correia also plays violins on “The Lament of Phaethon” and “Lamia,” where he brings an organic and poignant touch to what are already terrific tunes. Regardless of who contributes, the musicians pour their hearts and souls into creating this emotionally striking work of art.

With funeral doom, lengthy slow burns are par for the course, yet writing a song that doesn’t overextend itself becomes a tricky balancing act. A majority of tracks on Katabasis fall in the seven-minute range and feel just right. The eleven-minute “Exhorting Nightmares” proves an exception. At seven minutes, it would have been fine, yet Santos keeps it going and even tacks on an ill-advised spoken word section towards the end. On the whole, Katabasis falls into a rather tight 45 minutes, so it’s only a minor complaint. The only other knock against the record is the lack of power behind the guitars and growls. A Dream of Poe is not aiming for the sort of power that My Dying Bride consistently delivers, but a little extra oomph here and there would have made a greater emotional impact.

It would have been so easy to give up in the midst of the loss Santos suffered. Yet he forged ahead and revived his lost music. While Katabasis presents a descent into a bleak place, there is something triumphant in the finished product. Santos, it seems, found himself at the edge of the pit, the imp within contemplating the fall, before the pendulum swung back and pulled him from the brink. He heard the beat of the Tell-Tale Studios and found himself driven not by madness, but by a desire to create his music and leave an indelible mark on the world of heavy metal.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Meuse Music
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: April 24th, 2026

Miguel Santos loves Edgar Allan Poe. He turned that love into a (sort of) one-man metal project called A Dream of Poe and uses a place called Tell-Tale Studios for mixing and mastering his records—Poe is clearly dear to his heart. The musical dream nearly crumbled, however, when a fire ravaged Santos’s home, destroying the music he’d written for his latest album—all but one song. This must have been devastating, yet from the ashes he resurrected the music and its tale about one character’s descent into the lowest of places: the underworld. Katabasis: A Marriage Among Ashes uses the symbolism of ashes as a parallel to Santos’s own personal tragedy in order to chronicle the agony of loss. The result is an album defined not by bleak darkness, but a sad beauty.

If you’re going to create a band inspired by Poe, there’s no genre more fitting than gothic doom mixed with the classical Romanticism of symphonic instruments. A Dream of Poe takes the form of My Dying Bride without its crushing brutality and the classicism of Tempestuous Fall without its opulence. Katabasis is a surprisingly tender and gentle piece of doom. The pianos and violins add a soft touch, and the guitars strum lovely melodies. The marriage of gentle and lightly brutal opens things on the poignant “The Wail of Gaea,” where the strings and pianos take turns setting a melancholic tone. “The Lament of Phaethon” begins with arpeggios and vocals that take on a folky Dolven vibe, and blaring horns late in the song tell of bad omens to come. Santos shows a knack for hooky choruses, particularly on the catchy “Lamia.” The hookiness returns on the finale, “À Medida de Damastes,” sung in what I assume is Santos’s native Portuguese. This tune kicks up the energy slightly, à la Paradise Lost, before descending into a chilling surge of terror that shatters the peace A Dream of Poe had previously maintained.

A Dream of Poe is technically a one-man project, yet Santos collaborates with a number of musicians who help shape Katabasis. Two of these collaborators split the bulk of the singing duties. Kaivan Saraei handles the first four tracks, with a voice that carries a gothic calm, evoking Dolven’s Jori Apedaile. João Melo, who closes the record out, has a more earthy tone that grows rawer when it increases in intensity. Santos himself contributes, briefly, with some growls that may be underpowered, but fit with the gentler nature of the album. Though Santos handles almost all instruments, other musicians aid in some small but important roles. Ruben Correia plays several guitar solos across Katabasis, providing some nice breaks from the gloom, notably on “Lamia” and “The Captivity of Hesperus.” Correia also plays violins on “The Lament of Phaethon” and “Lamia,” where he brings an organic and poignant touch to what are already terrific tunes. Regardless of who contributes, the musicians pour their hearts and souls into creating this emotionally striking work of art.

With funeral doom, lengthy slow burns are par for the course, yet writing a song that doesn’t overextend itself becomes a tricky balancing act. A majority of tracks on Katabasis fall in the seven-minute range and feel just right. The eleven-minute “Exhorting Nightmares” proves an exception. At seven minutes, it would have been fine, yet Santos keeps it going and even tacks on an ill-advised spoken word section towards the end. On the whole, Katabasis falls into a rather tight 45 minutes, so it’s only a minor complaint. The only other knock against the record is the lack of power behind the guitars and growls. A Dream of Poe is not aiming for the sort of power that My Dying Bride consistently delivers, but a little extra oomph here and there would have made a greater emotional impact.

It would have been so easy to give up in the midst of the loss Santos suffered. Yet he forged ahead and revived his lost music. While Katabasis presents a descent into a bleak place, there is something triumphant in the finished product. Santos, it seems, found himself at the edge of the pit, the imp within contemplating the fall, before the pendulum swung back and pulled him from the brink. He heard the beat of the Tell-Tale Studios and found himself driven not by madness, but by a desire to create his music and leave an indelible mark on the world of heavy metal.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Meuse Music
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: April 24th, 2026

Miguel Santos loves Edgar Allan Poe. He turned that love into a (sort of) one-man metal project called A Dream of Poe and uses a place called Tell-Tale Studios for mixing and mastering his records—Poe is clearly dear to his heart. The musical dream nearly crumbled, however, when a fire ravaged Santos’s home, destroying the music he’d written for his latest album—all but one song. This must have been devastating, yet from the ashes he resurrected the music and its tale about one character’s descent into the lowest of places: the underworld. Katabasis: A Marriage Among Ashes uses the symbolism of ashes as a parallel to Santos’s own personal tragedy in order to chronicle the agony of loss. The result is an album defined not by bleak darkness, but a sad beauty.

If you’re going to create a band inspired by Poe, there’s no genre more fitting than gothic doom mixed with the classical Romanticism of symphonic instruments. A Dream of Poe takes the form of My Dying Bride without its crushing brutality and the classicism of Tempestuous Fall without its opulence. Katabasis is a surprisingly tender and gentle piece of doom. The pianos and violins add a soft touch, and the guitars strum lovely melodies. The marriage of gentle and lightly brutal opens things on the poignant “The Wail of Gaea,” where the strings and pianos take turns setting a melancholic tone. “The Lament of Phaethon” begins with arpeggios and vocals that take on a folky Dolven vibe, and blaring horns late in the song tell of bad omens to come. Santos shows a knack for hooky choruses, particularly on the catchy “Lamia.” The hookiness returns on the finale, “À Medida de Damastes,” sung in what I assume is Santos’s native Portuguese. This tune kicks up the energy slightly, à la Paradise Lost, before descending into a chilling surge of terror that shatters the peace A Dream of Poe had previously maintained.

A Dream of Poe is technically a one-man project, yet Santos collaborates with a number of musicians who help shape Katabasis. Two of these collaborators split the bulk of the singing duties. Kaivan Saraei handles the first four tracks, with a voice that carries a gothic calm, evoking Dolven’s Jori Apedaile. João Melo, who closes the record out, has a more earthy tone that grows rawer when it increases in intensity. Santos himself contributes, briefly, with some growls that may be underpowered, but fit with the gentler nature of the album. Though Santos handles almost all instruments, other musicians aid in some small but important roles. Ruben Correia plays several guitar solos across Katabasis, providing some nice breaks from the gloom, notably on “Lamia” and “The Captivity of Hesperus.” Correia also plays violins on “The Lament of Phaethon” and “Lamia,” where he brings an organic and poignant touch to what are already terrific tunes. Regardless of who contributes, the musicians pour their hearts and souls into creating this emotionally striking work of art.

With funeral doom, lengthy slow burns are par for the course, yet writing a song that doesn’t overextend itself becomes a tricky balancing act. A majority of tracks on Katabasis fall in the seven-minute range and feel just right. The eleven-minute “Exhorting Nightmares” proves an exception. At seven minutes, it would have been fine, yet Santos keeps it going and even tacks on an ill-advised spoken word section towards the end. On the whole, Katabasis falls into a rather tight 45 minutes, so it’s only a minor complaint. The only other knock against the record is the lack of power behind the guitars and growls. A Dream of Poe is not aiming for the sort of power that My Dying Bride consistently delivers, but a little extra oomph here and there would have made a greater emotional impact.

It would have been so easy to give up in the midst of the loss Santos suffered. Yet he forged ahead and revived his lost music. While Katabasis presents a descent into a bleak place, there is something triumphant in the finished product. Santos, it seems, found himself at the edge of the pit, the imp within contemplating the fall, before the pendulum swung back and pulled him from the brink. He heard the beat of the Tell-Tale Studios and found himself driven not by madness, but by a desire to create his music and leave an indelible mark on the world of heavy metal.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Meuse Music
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: April 24th, 2026

https://www.europesays.com/be-nl/49960/ De rijpe nummers van High Parasite in Paard #AaronStainthorpe #Amusement #BE #België #Belgium #DENHAAG #Entertainment #ForeverWeBurn #godthrymm #HighParasite #live #Music #Muziek #MyDyingBride #paard #TheOldDeadTree #tombs

https://www.europesays.com/nl/192401/ De rijpe nummers van High Parasite in Paard #AaronStainthorpe #Amusement #DENHAAG #Dutch #Entertainment #ForeverWeBurn #godthrymm #HighParasite #live #Music #Muziek #MyDyingBride #Nederland #Nederlanden #Nederlands #Netherlands #NL #paard #TheOldDeadTree #tombs

https://www.europesays.com/uk/913304/ Avertat – Dead End Life Review #2026 #35 #Apr26 #Avertat #DeadEndLife #DécembreNoir #DoomMetal #Entertainment #GermanMetal #LifeforceRecords #MelodicDeathMetal #music #MyDyingBride #Review #UK #UnitedKingdom

Avertat – Dead End Life Review

German death-doom outfit Décembre Noir has received a fair amount of praise here over the years, with four…
#NewsBeep #News #US #USA #UnitedStates #UnitedStatesOfAmerica #Music #2026 #3.5 #Apr26 #Avertat #DeadEndLife #DécembreNoir #DoomMetal #Entertainment #GermanMetal #LifeforceRecords #MelodicDeathMetal #MyDyingBride #review
https://www.newsbeep.com/us/601564/

Avertat – Dead End Life Review

German death-doom outfit Décembre Noir has received a fair amount of praise here over the years, with four…
#NewsBeep #News #US #USA #UnitedStates #UnitedStatesOfAmerica #Music #2026 #3.5 #Apr26 #Avertat #DeadEndLife #DécembreNoir #DoomMetal #Entertainment #GermanMetal #LifeforceRecords #MelodicDeathMetal #MyDyingBride #review
https://www.newsbeep.com/us/601564/

German death-doom outfit Décembre Noir has received a fair amount of praise here over the years, with four of their five albums garnering ‘Great’ to ‘Good’ ratings from three of AMG’s finest—Madam X, Huck N’ Roll and, most recently, Ferox, whose review of 2023’s Your Sunset | My Sunrise cited a band that may be resting on laurels, perhaps having lost touch with its muse. Whether those issues led Sebastian Görlach, founding guitarist and one of two main songwriters, to depart the band in the Spring of 2024 is unclear. It is, however, germane since he has returned with a new death doom project, Avertat, and a debut album, Dead End Life. While Görlach admits it was hard to walk away from his “baby,” Avertat offers him the opportunity to reunite with “the same forces that have always defined his relationship with metal: emotional truth, atmospheric depth, and the ability to transform darkness into sound.” All that’s left to decide is whether Avertat, and more importantly, Dead End Life, has any future.

On Dead End Life, Avertat draws from the same well of desolate darkness that Décembre Noir has plumbed for years. Add a fair amount of My Dying Bride to the mix, and you can sense what Avertat is about. From skins to strings, Görlach impressively handles all of Dead End Life’s instrumental responsibilities, even contributing his own deathly growls—here, a satisfying mix of Mikael Akerfeldt and Lars Dotzauer.1 Tracks adhere to a tried-and-true formula, oscillating between speedier, chug-heavy melo-death (“Your Hate,” “The Sea”) and slower-paced, melancholic doom (“[7],” “Call to Death”). And while the addition of clean vocals is hardly groundbreaking, the crisp, prog-poppy tones of non-metal newcomer Enrico Langguth—eerily reminiscent of Tim Charles (Ne Obliviscaris)—are refreshing and bright, serving as a dynamic counterpoint to Görlach’s gruffness.2 Langguth’s emotively hopeful delivery both assuages and drives home the pain of Dead End Life’s deeply emotional stories, which are as heavy as Avertat’s music.

Avertat wastes no time getting down to its bleak, loss-is-life business. Album opener “Your Hate” sets the tone, its chunky, angry riffs, razor-sharp leads, and driving drum beats employed to tell the story of an abused child grown up to take care of his abusive parent as Görlach roars the lyric, “Whenever your hand rises, time blurs within me, I am the child that endures it,” before pleading, “When will you stop, when will you stop living?” This anguish cedes to another as the beautiful piano intro of “[7]” introduces us to the painful tale of Marianne Bachmeier.3 Doomy chords and lilting leads are the backdrop as Langguth croons a mother’s lament, “Seeking out for her smile, I always search for her hand, always held onto her so close”4 before death-heavy riffs and Görlach’s growls come crashing in, “Every shot looses the chains, gifts me freedom for the moment,” reflecting a mother’s vigilante-fueled grief and anger. Whether it’s the Line of Deathless Kings-like lilting leads and doomy riffs of “Call to Death” and “Last Request,”—the former a song about war as told through the eyes of war, replete with some Bolt Throwerish chugs—or the long-form doom-goodery of “My Blood,” recounting a father’s pride, Avertat packs a wallop.

Barely shy of 39 minutes, Avertat doesn’t loiter, and despite the brevity of this kind being rare in the genre, it definitely increases Dead End Life’s replay value. In fact, as the final strains of “Last Request” faded from my speakers, I found myself longing for another song, settling instead to start Dead End Life again. Görlach’s production—yes, he produced Dead End Life too—is warm and enveloping, leaving little for me to quibble with. I suppose, if pressed, I could say I connected least with the blast beats of “The Sea,” as they ran rampant under slower-paced guitars and vocals, but honestly, ’twas a small thing. I just wish there was MOAR!

Avertat delivers a heartfelt experience on Dead End Life, rife with emotional and musical heaviness—elevated by the back-and-forth vocal trade-offs of Görlach and Langguth. While I can’t pontificate on Décembre Noir’s future without Sebastian Görlach, I can absolutely say that Avertat’s future looks bright, despite a recipe that peddles in darkness. I will absolutely be here for whatever comes next, and so too should you.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320kbps mp3
Label: Lifeforce Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: April 24th, 2026

German death-doom outfit Décembre Noir has received a fair amount of praise here over the years, with four of their five albums garnering ‘Great’ to ‘Good’ ratings from three of AMG’s finest—Madam X, Huck N’ Roll and, most recently, Ferox, whose review of 2023’s Your Sunset | My Sunrise cited a band that may be resting on laurels, perhaps having lost touch with its muse. Whether those issues led Sebastian Görlach, founding guitarist and one of two main songwriters, to depart the band in the Spring of 2024 is unclear. It is, however, germane since he has returned with a new death doom project, Avertat, and a debut album, Dead End Life. While Görlach admits it was hard to walk away from his “baby,” Avertat offers him the opportunity to reunite with “the same forces that have always defined his relationship with metal: emotional truth, atmospheric depth, and the ability to transform darkness into sound.” All that’s left to decide is whether Avertat, and more importantly, Dead End Life, has any future.

On Dead End Life, Avertat draws from the same well of desolate darkness that Décembre Noir has plumbed for years. Add a fair amount of My Dying Bride to the mix, and you can sense what Avertat is about. From skins to strings, Görlach impressively handles all of Dead End Life’s instrumental responsibilities, even contributing his own deathly growls—here, a satisfying mix of Mikael Akerfeldt and Lars Dotzauer.1 Tracks adhere to a tried-and-true formula, oscillating between speedier, chug-heavy melo-death (“Your Hate,” “The Sea”) and slower-paced, melancholic doom (“[7],” “Call to Death”). And while the addition of clean vocals is hardly groundbreaking, the crisp, prog-poppy tones of non-metal newcomer Enrico Langguth—eerily reminiscent of Tim Charles (Ne Obliviscaris)—are refreshing and bright, serving as a dynamic counterpoint to Görlach’s gruffness.2 Langguth’s emotively hopeful delivery both assuages and drives home the pain of Dead End Life’s deeply emotional stories, which are as heavy as Avertat’s music.

Avertat wastes no time getting down to its bleak, loss-is-life business. Album opener “Your Hate” sets the tone, its chunky, angry riffs, razor-sharp leads, and driving drum beats employed to tell the story of an abused child grown up to take care of his abusive parent as Görlach roars the lyric, “Whenever your hand rises, time blurs within me, I am the child that endures it,” before pleading, “When will you stop, when will you stop living?” This anguish cedes to another as the beautiful piano intro of “[7]” introduces us to the painful tale of Marianne Bachmeier.3 Doomy chords and lilting leads are the backdrop as Langguth croons a mother’s lament, “Seeking out for her smile, I always search for her hand, always held onto her so close”4 before death-heavy riffs and Görlach’s growls come crashing in, “Every shot looses the chains, gifts me freedom for the moment,” reflecting a mother’s vigilante-fueled grief and anger. Whether it’s the Line of Deathless Kings-like lilting leads and doomy riffs of “Call to Death” and “Last Request,”—the former a song about war as told through the eyes of war, replete with some Bolt Throwerish chugs—or the long-form doom-goodery of “My Blood,” recounting a father’s pride, Avertat packs a wallop.

Barely shy of 39 minutes, Avertat doesn’t loiter, and despite the brevity of this kind being rare in the genre, it definitely increases Dead End Life’s replay value. In fact, as the final strains of “Last Request” faded from my speakers, I found myself longing for another song, settling instead to start Dead End Life again. Görlach’s production—yes, he produced Dead End Life too—is warm and enveloping, leaving little for me to quibble with. I suppose, if pressed, I could say I connected least with the blast beats of “The Sea,” as they ran rampant under slower-paced guitars and vocals, but honestly, ’twas a small thing. I just wish there was MOAR!

Avertat delivers a heartfelt experience on Dead End Life, rife with emotional and musical heaviness—elevated by the back-and-forth vocal trade-offs of Görlach and Langguth. While I can’t pontificate on Décembre Noir’s future without Sebastian Görlach, I can absolutely say that Avertat’s future looks bright, despite a recipe that peddles in darkness. I will absolutely be here for whatever comes next, and so too should you.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320kbps mp3
Label: Lifeforce Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: April 24th, 2026

German death-doom outfit Décembre Noir has received a fair amount of praise here over the years, with four of their five albums garnering ‘Great’ to ‘Good’ ratings from three of AMG’s finest—Madam X, Huck N’ Roll and, most recently, Ferox, whose review of 2023’s Your Sunset | My Sunrise cited a band that may be resting on laurels, perhaps having lost touch with its muse. Whether those issues led Sebastian Görlach, founding guitarist and one of two main songwriters, to depart the band in the Spring of 2024 is unclear. It is, however, germane since he has returned with a new death doom project, Avertat, and a debut album, Dead End Life. While Görlach admits it was hard to walk away from his “baby,” Avertat offers him the opportunity to reunite with “the same forces that have always defined his relationship with metal: emotional truth, atmospheric depth, and the ability to transform darkness into sound.” All that’s left to decide is whether Avertat, and more importantly, Dead End Life, has any future.

On Dead End Life, Avertat draws from the same well of desolate darkness that Décembre Noir has plumbed for years. Add a fair amount of My Dying Bride to the mix, and you can sense what Avertat is about. From skins to strings, Görlach impressively handles all of Dead End Life’s instrumental responsibilities, even contributing his own deathly growls—here, a satisfying mix of Mikael Akerfeldt and Lars Dotzauer.1 Tracks adhere to a tried-and-true formula, oscillating between speedier, chug-heavy melo-death (“Your Hate,” “The Sea”) and slower-paced, melancholic doom (“[7],” “Call to Death”). And while the addition of clean vocals is hardly groundbreaking, the crisp, prog-poppy tones of non-metal newcomer Enrico Langguth—eerily reminiscent of Tim Charles (Ne Obliviscaris)—are refreshing and bright, serving as a dynamic counterpoint to Görlach’s gruffness.2 Langguth’s emotively hopeful delivery both assuages and drives home the pain of Dead End Life’s deeply emotional stories, which are as heavy as Avertat’s music.

Avertat wastes no time getting down to its bleak, loss-is-life business. Album opener “Your Hate” sets the tone, its chunky, angry riffs, razor-sharp leads, and driving drum beats employed to tell the story of an abused child grown up to take care of his abusive parent as Görlach roars the lyric, “Whenever your hand rises, time blurs within me, I am the child that endures it,” before pleading, “When will you stop, when will you stop living?” This anguish cedes to another as the beautiful piano intro of “[7]” introduces us to the painful tale of Marianne Bachmeier.3 Doomy chords and lilting leads are the backdrop as Langguth croons a mother’s lament, “Seeking out for her smile, I always search for her hand, always held onto her so close”4 before death-heavy riffs and Görlach’s growls come crashing in, “Every shot looses the chains, gifts me freedom for the moment,” reflecting a mother’s vigilante-fueled grief and anger. Whether it’s the Line of Deathless Kings-like lilting leads and doomy riffs of “Call to Death” and “Last Request,”—the former a song about war as told through the eyes of war, replete with some Bolt Throwerish chugs—or the long-form doom-goodery of “My Blood,” recounting a father’s pride, Avertat packs a wallop.

Barely shy of 39 minutes, Avertat doesn’t loiter, and despite the brevity of this kind being rare in the genre, it definitely increases Dead End Life’s replay value. In fact, as the final strains of “Last Request” faded from my speakers, I found myself longing for another song, settling instead to start Dead End Life again. Görlach’s production—yes, he produced Dead End Life too—is warm and enveloping, leaving little for me to quibble with. I suppose, if pressed, I could say I connected least with the blast beats of “The Sea,” as they ran rampant under slower-paced guitars and vocals, but honestly, ’twas a small thing. I just wish there was MOAR!

Avertat delivers a heartfelt experience on Dead End Life, rife with emotional and musical heaviness—elevated by the back-and-forth vocal trade-offs of Görlach and Langguth. While I can’t pontificate on Décembre Noir’s future without Sebastian Görlach, I can absolutely say that Avertat’s future looks bright, despite a recipe that peddles in darkness. I will absolutely be here for whatever comes next, and so too should you.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320kbps mp3
Label: Lifeforce Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: April 24th, 2026

German death-doom outfit Décembre Noir has received a fair amount of praise here over the years, with four of their five albums garnering ‘Great’ to ‘Good’ ratings from three of AMG’s finest—Madam X, Huck N’ Roll and, most recently, Ferox, whose review of 2023’s Your Sunset | My Sunrise cited a band that may be resting on laurels, perhaps having lost touch with its muse. Whether those issues led Sebastian Görlach, founding guitarist and one of two main songwriters, to depart the band in the Spring of 2024 is unclear. It is, however, germane since he has returned with a new death doom project, Avertat, and a debut album, Dead End Life. While Görlach admits it was hard to walk away from his “baby,” Avertat offers him the opportunity to reunite with “the same forces that have always defined his relationship with metal: emotional truth, atmospheric depth, and the ability to transform darkness into sound.” All that’s left to decide is whether Avertat, and more importantly, Dead End Life, has any future.

On Dead End Life, Avertat draws from the same well of desolate darkness that Décembre Noir has plumbed for years. Add a fair amount of My Dying Bride to the mix, and you can sense what Avertat is about. From skins to strings, Görlach impressively handles all of Dead End Life’s instrumental responsibilities, even contributing his own deathly growls—here, a satisfying mix of Mikael Akerfeldt and Lars Dotzauer.1 Tracks adhere to a tried-and-true formula, oscillating between speedier, chug-heavy melo-death (“Your Hate,” “The Sea”) and slower-paced, melancholic doom (“[7],” “Call to Death”). And while the addition of clean vocals is hardly groundbreaking, the crisp, prog-poppy tones of non-metal newcomer Enrico Langguth—eerily reminiscent of Tim Charles (Ne Obliviscaris)—are refreshing and bright, serving as a dynamic counterpoint to Görlach’s gruffness.2 Langguth’s emotively hopeful delivery both assuages and drives home the pain of Dead End Life’s deeply emotional stories, which are as heavy as Avertat’s music.

Avertat wastes no time getting down to its bleak, loss-is-life business. Album opener “Your Hate” sets the tone, its chunky, angry riffs, razor-sharp leads, and driving drum beats employed to tell the story of an abused child grown up to take care of his abusive parent as Görlach roars the lyric, “Whenever your hand rises, time blurs within me, I am the child that endures it,” before pleading, “When will you stop, when will you stop living?” This anguish cedes to another as the beautiful piano intro of “[7]” introduces us to the painful tale of Marianne Bachmeier.3 Doomy chords and lilting leads are the backdrop as Langguth croons a mother’s lament, “Seeking out for her smile, I always search for her hand, always held onto her so close”4 before death-heavy riffs and Görlach’s growls come crashing in, “Every shot looses the chains, gifts me freedom for the moment,” reflecting a mother’s vigilante-fueled grief and anger. Whether it’s the Line of Deathless Kings-like lilting leads and doomy riffs of “Call to Death” and “Last Request,”—the former a song about war as told through the eyes of war, replete with some Bolt Throwerish chugs—or the long-form doom-goodery of “My Blood,” recounting a father’s pride, Avertat packs a wallop.

Barely shy of 39 minutes, Avertat doesn’t loiter, and despite the brevity of this kind being rare in the genre, it definitely increases Dead End Life’s replay value. In fact, as the final strains of “Last Request” faded from my speakers, I found myself longing for another song, settling instead to start Dead End Life again. Görlach’s production—yes, he produced Dead End Life too—is warm and enveloping, leaving little for me to quibble with. I suppose, if pressed, I could say I connected least with the blast beats of “The Sea,” as they ran rampant under slower-paced guitars and vocals, but honestly, ’twas a small thing. I just wish there was MOAR!

Avertat delivers a heartfelt experience on Dead End Life, rife with emotional and musical heaviness—elevated by the back-and-forth vocal trade-offs of Görlach and Langguth. While I can’t pontificate on Décembre Noir’s future without Sebastian Görlach, I can absolutely say that Avertat’s future looks bright, despite a recipe that peddles in darkness. I will absolutely be here for whatever comes next, and so too should you.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320kbps mp3
Label: Lifeforce Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: April 24th, 2026

German death-doom outfit Décembre Noir has received a fair amount of praise here over the years, with four of their five albums garnering ‘Great’ to ‘Good’ ratings from three of AMG’s finest—Madam X, Huck N’ Roll and, most recently, Ferox, whose review of 2023’s Your Sunset | My Sunrise cited a band that may be resting on laurels, perhaps having lost touch with its muse. Whether those issues led Sebastian Görlach, founding guitarist and one of two main songwriters, to depart the band in the Spring of 2024 is unclear. It is, however, germane since he has returned with a new death doom project, Avertat, and a debut album, Dead End Life. While Görlach admits it was hard to walk away from his “baby,” Avertat offers him the opportunity to reunite with “the same forces that have always defined his relationship with metal: emotional truth, atmospheric depth, and the ability to transform darkness into sound.” All that’s left to decide is whether Avertat, and more importantly, Dead End Life, has any future.

On Dead End Life, Avertat draws from the same well of desolate darkness that Décembre Noir has plumbed for years. Add a fair amount of My Dying Bride to the mix, and you can sense what Avertat is about. From skins to strings, Görlach impressively handles all of Dead End Life’s instrumental responsibilities, even contributing his own deathly growls—here, a satisfying mix of Mikael Akerfeldt and Lars Dotzauer.1 Tracks adhere to a tried-and-true formula, oscillating between speedier, chug-heavy melo-death (“Your Hate,” “The Sea”) and slower-paced, melancholic doom (“[7],” “Call to Death”). And while the addition of clean vocals is hardly groundbreaking, the crisp, prog-poppy tones of non-metal newcomer Enrico Langguth—eerily reminiscent of Tim Charles (Ne Obliviscaris)—are refreshing and bright, serving as a dynamic counterpoint to Görlach’s gruffness.2 Langguth’s emotively hopeful delivery both assuages and drives home the pain of Dead End Life’s deeply emotional stories, which are as heavy as Avertat’s music.

Avertat wastes no time getting down to its bleak, loss-is-life business. Album opener “Your Hate” sets the tone, its chunky, angry riffs, razor-sharp leads, and driving drum beats employed to tell the story of an abused child grown up to take care of his abusive parent as Görlach roars the lyric, “Whenever your hand rises, time blurs within me, I am the child that endures it,” before pleading, “When will you stop, when will you stop living?” This anguish cedes to another as the beautiful piano intro of “[7]” introduces us to the painful tale of Marianne Bachmeier.3 Doomy chords and lilting leads are the backdrop as Langguth croons a mother’s lament, “Seeking out for her smile, I always search for her hand, always held onto her so close”4 before death-heavy riffs and Görlach’s growls come crashing in, “Every shot looses the chains, gifts me freedom for the moment,” reflecting a mother’s vigilante-fueled grief and anger. Whether it’s the Line of Deathless Kings-like lilting leads and doomy riffs of “Call to Death” and “Last Request,”—the former a song about war as told through the eyes of war, replete with some Bolt Throwerish chugs—or the long-form doom-goodery of “My Blood,” recounting a father’s pride, Avertat packs a wallop.

Barely shy of 39 minutes, Avertat doesn’t loiter, and despite the brevity of this kind being rare in the genre, it definitely increases Dead End Life’s replay value. In fact, as the final strains of “Last Request” faded from my speakers, I found myself longing for another song, settling instead to start Dead End Life again. Görlach’s production—yes, he produced Dead End Life too—is warm and enveloping, leaving little for me to quibble with. I suppose, if pressed, I could say I connected least with the blast beats of “The Sea,” as they ran rampant under slower-paced guitars and vocals, but honestly, ’twas a small thing. I just wish there was MOAR!

Avertat delivers a heartfelt experience on Dead End Life, rife with emotional and musical heaviness—elevated by the back-and-forth vocal trade-offs of Görlach and Langguth. While I can’t pontificate on Décembre Noir’s future without Sebastian Görlach, I can absolutely say that Avertat’s future looks bright, despite a recipe that peddles in darkness. I will absolutely be here for whatever comes next, and so too should you.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320kbps mp3
Label: Lifeforce Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: April 24th, 2026

It’s been some time since Splendidula has visited these pages. The fearsome Carcharodon reviewed their sophomore record, Post Mortem, as a wee n00b long ago in 2018, wherein he saw glimmers of potential in the gothic doom metal. He didn’t cover 2021’s Somnus for unknown reasons, though I think he might have been pleased with the heavier post-metal inclinations that permeated the record. The years since then have been rough for this Belgian group, marred by the passing of several loved ones, including their bassist Peter Chromiak. Absentia emerges in the wake of these tragedies as a means to both express and confront this debilitating heartache and loss.

Chromiak’s absence is felt in the very essence of Absentia. Although drummer Joachim Taminau took up the bassist role, the burly bass presence from the prior two records is all but gone. Splendidula kept much of their gothic doom but, fittingly, chose to fill the void with another of metal’s most expressive subgenres—DSBM. Whereas Kristien Cools previously stuck to clean vocals (for the most part), she now becomes both beauty and beast, dividing her time between sorrowful singing and shrieking. She also leans on a couple of notable guest vocalists. Tim Yatras (Austere) adds blackened snarls and backing cleans to “Absentia,” followed by Aaron Stainthorpe (ex-My Dying Bride, High Parasite), who contributes his rumbling growls and velvety baritone to “Echoes of Quiet Remain.” These guest selections neatly encapsulate the two different aspects of Absentia.

Absentia by Splendidula

While much music (and art in general) is born from a place of grief, Absentia is practically synonymous with it. Underneath the stoic exterior lurks a raw torment that flares up whenever and however it wants. For example, “Donkerte” begins with despondent singing, but as the verse progresses, Cools’s voice escalates until finally a primal scream spills out. Later, the double-tracked cleans and screams give the impression of one putting on a brave face as anguish roils inside. When her voice dips into the lower ranges (particularly in “Absentia” and “Let It Come to an End”), it takes on a sort of nasally drawl which augments the mournful atmosphere, though this likely won’t appeal to everyone. Also like grief, sections of certain songs tend to linger for longer than one might like (“Echoes of Quiet Remain,” “Kilte,” “Absentia”).

Absentia musically conveys the importance of a healthy support system during times of grief. Though much hinges on Cools’s vocal performances, the other two members of Splendidula help to sustain her in subtle but important ways. During “Dalkuldar,” a forlorn respite from the turmoil, the snare rhythms and bass drum beats are akin to a bolstering drumline. The tempestuous percussion also heightens the sense of desperation in “Kilte.” Closing track “Let It Come to an End” flips the script, letting Cools take a backseat and bringing guitarist Guy Van Campenhout’s growls to the forefront, perhaps emblematic of leaning on loved ones during times of crisis.

In terms of emotional devastation, Absentia is as potent a record as you’re likely to find. Kristien Cools keeps improving with each release, and the compositions complement her increasingly diverse vocal styles well. The deeply personal nature of Splendidula’s work of art is both strength and weakness. The intense and authentic expression of grief is harrowingly beautiful, but in a way that seems impossible for an outsider to fully appreciate. Like attending a funeral for someone you didn’t know, it’s easy to empathize with those in mourning but difficult to feel the same deep personal connection. That said, the next time grief comes for me personally, I may be very grateful that I became acquainted with Absentia.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Argonauta Records
Websites: splendidula.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/Splendidula
Releases Worldwide: April 3rd, 2026

It’s been some time since Splendidula has visited these pages. The fearsome Carcharodon reviewed their sophomore record, Post Mortem, as a wee n00b long ago in 2018, wherein he saw glimmers of potential in the gothic doom metal. He didn’t cover 2021’s Somnus for unknown reasons, though I think he might have been pleased with the heavier post-metal inclinations that permeated the record. The years since then have been rough for this Belgian group, marred by the passing of several loved ones, including their bassist Peter Chromiak. Absentia emerges in the wake of these tragedies as a means to both express and confront this debilitating heartache and loss.

Chromiak’s absence is felt in the very essence of Absentia. Although drummer Joachim Taminau took up the bassist role, the burly bass presence from the prior two records is all but gone. Splendidula kept much of their gothic doom but, fittingly, chose to fill the void with another of metal’s most expressive subgenres—DSBM. Whereas Kristien Cools previously stuck to clean vocals (for the most part), she now becomes both beauty and beast, dividing her time between sorrowful singing and shrieking. She also leans on a couple of notable guest vocalists. Tim Yatras (Austere) adds blackened snarls and backing cleans to “Absentia,” followed by Aaron Stainthorpe (ex-My Dying Bride, High Parasite), who contributes his rumbling growls and velvety baritone to “Echoes of Quiet Remain.” These guest selections neatly encapsulate the two different aspects of Absentia.

Absentia by Splendidula

While much music (and art in general) is born from a place of grief, Absentia is practically synonymous with it. Underneath the stoic exterior lurks a raw torment that flares up whenever and however it wants. For example, “Donkerte” begins with despondent singing, but as the verse progresses, Cools’s voice escalates until finally a primal scream spills out. Later, the double-tracked cleans and screams give the impression of one putting on a brave face as anguish roils inside. When her voice dips into the lower ranges (particularly in “Absentia” and “Let It Come to an End”), it takes on a sort of nasally drawl which augments the mournful atmosphere, though this likely won’t appeal to everyone. Also like grief, sections of certain songs tend to linger for longer than one might like (“Echoes of Quiet Remain,” “Kilte,” “Absentia”).

Absentia musically conveys the importance of a healthy support system during times of grief. Though much hinges on Cools’s vocal performances, the other two members of Splendidula help to sustain her in subtle but important ways. During “Dalkuldar,” a forlorn respite from the turmoil, the snare rhythms and bass drum beats are akin to a bolstering drumline. The tempestuous percussion also heightens the sense of desperation in “Kilte.” Closing track “Let It Come to an End” flips the script, letting Cools take a backseat and bringing guitarist Guy Van Campenhout’s growls to the forefront, perhaps emblematic of leaning on loved ones during times of crisis.

In terms of emotional devastation, Absentia is as potent a record as you’re likely to find. Kristien Cools keeps improving with each release, and the compositions complement her increasingly diverse vocal styles well. The deeply personal nature of Splendidula’s work of art is both strength and weakness. The intense and authentic expression of grief is harrowingly beautiful, but in a way that seems impossible for an outsider to fully appreciate. Like attending a funeral for someone you didn’t know, it’s easy to empathize with those in mourning but difficult to feel the same deep personal connection. That said, the next time grief comes for me personally, I may be very grateful that I became acquainted with Absentia.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Argonauta Records
Websites: splendidula.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/Splendidula
Releases Worldwide: April 3rd, 2026

It’s been some time since Splendidula has visited these pages. The fearsome Carcharodon reviewed their sophomore record, Post Mortem, as a wee n00b long ago in 2018, wherein he saw glimmers of potential in the gothic doom metal. He didn’t cover 2021’s Somnus for unknown reasons, though I think he might have been pleased with the heavier post-metal inclinations that permeated the record. The years since then have been rough for this Belgian group, marred by the passing of several loved ones, including their bassist Peter Chromiak. Absentia emerges in the wake of these tragedies as a means to both express and confront this debilitating heartache and loss.

Chromiak’s absence is felt in the very essence of Absentia. Although drummer Joachim Taminau took up the bassist role, the burly bass presence from the prior two records is all but gone. Splendidula kept much of their gothic doom but, fittingly, chose to fill the void with another of metal’s most expressive subgenres—DSBM. Whereas Kristien Cools previously stuck to clean vocals (for the most part), she now becomes both beauty and beast, dividing her time between sorrowful singing and shrieking. She also leans on a couple of notable guest vocalists. Tim Yatras (Austere) adds blackened snarls and backing cleans to “Absentia,” followed by Aaron Stainthorpe (ex-My Dying Bride, High Parasite), who contributes his rumbling growls and velvety baritone to “Echoes of Quiet Remain.” These guest selections neatly encapsulate the two different aspects of Absentia.

Absentia by Splendidula

While much music (and art in general) is born from a place of grief, Absentia is practically synonymous with it. Underneath the stoic exterior lurks a raw torment that flares up whenever and however it wants. For example, “Donkerte” begins with despondent singing, but as the verse progresses, Cools’s voice escalates until finally a primal scream spills out. Later, the double-tracked cleans and screams give the impression of one putting on a brave face as anguish roils inside. When her voice dips into the lower ranges (particularly in “Absentia” and “Let It Come to an End”), it takes on a sort of nasally drawl which augments the mournful atmosphere, though this likely won’t appeal to everyone. Also like grief, sections of certain songs tend to linger for longer than one might like (“Echoes of Quiet Remain,” “Kilte,” “Absentia”).

Absentia musically conveys the importance of a healthy support system during times of grief. Though much hinges on Cools’s vocal performances, the other two members of Splendidula help to sustain her in subtle but important ways. During “Dalkuldar,” a forlorn respite from the turmoil, the snare rhythms and bass drum beats are akin to a bolstering drumline. The tempestuous percussion also heightens the sense of desperation in “Kilte.” Closing track “Let It Come to an End” flips the script, letting Cools take a backseat and bringing guitarist Guy Van Campenhout’s growls to the forefront, perhaps emblematic of leaning on loved ones during times of crisis.

In terms of emotional devastation, Absentia is as potent a record as you’re likely to find. Kristien Cools keeps improving with each release, and the compositions complement her increasingly diverse vocal styles well. The deeply personal nature of Splendidula’s work of art is both strength and weakness. The intense and authentic expression of grief is harrowingly beautiful, but in a way that seems impossible for an outsider to fully appreciate. Like attending a funeral for someone you didn’t know, it’s easy to empathize with those in mourning but difficult to feel the same deep personal connection. That said, the next time grief comes for me personally, I may be very grateful that I became acquainted with Absentia.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Argonauta Records
Websites: splendidula.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/Splendidula
Releases Worldwide: April 3rd, 2026

It’s been some time since Splendidula has visited these pages. The fearsome Carcharodon reviewed their sophomore record, Post Mortem, as a wee n00b long ago in 2018, wherein he saw glimmers of potential in the gothic doom metal. He didn’t cover 2021’s Somnus for unknown reasons, though I think he might have been pleased with the heavier post-metal inclinations that permeated the record. The years since then have been rough for this Belgian group, marred by the passing of several loved ones, including their bassist Peter Chromiak. Absentia emerges in the wake of these tragedies as a means to both express and confront this debilitating heartache and loss.

Chromiak’s absence is felt in the very essence of Absentia. Although drummer Joachim Taminau took up the bassist role, the burly bass presence from the prior two records is all but gone. Splendidula kept much of their gothic doom but, fittingly, chose to fill the void with another of metal’s most expressive subgenres—DSBM. Whereas Kristien Cools previously stuck to clean vocals (for the most part), she now becomes both beauty and beast, dividing her time between sorrowful singing and shrieking. She also leans on a couple of notable guest vocalists. Tim Yatras (Austere) adds blackened snarls and backing cleans to “Absentia,” followed by Aaron Stainthorpe (ex-My Dying Bride, High Parasite), who contributes his rumbling growls and velvety baritone to “Echoes of Quiet Remain.” These guest selections neatly encapsulate the two different aspects of Absentia.

Absentia by Splendidula

While much music (and art in general) is born from a place of grief, Absentia is practically synonymous with it. Underneath the stoic exterior lurks a raw torment that flares up whenever and however it wants. For example, “Donkerte” begins with despondent singing, but as the verse progresses, Cools’s voice escalates until finally a primal scream spills out. Later, the double-tracked cleans and screams give the impression of one putting on a brave face as anguish roils inside. When her voice dips into the lower ranges (particularly in “Absentia” and “Let It Come to an End”), it takes on a sort of nasally drawl which augments the mournful atmosphere, though this likely won’t appeal to everyone. Also like grief, sections of certain songs tend to linger for longer than one might like (“Echoes of Quiet Remain,” “Kilte,” “Absentia”).

Absentia musically conveys the importance of a healthy support system during times of grief. Though much hinges on Cools’s vocal performances, the other two members of Splendidula help to sustain her in subtle but important ways. During “Dalkuldar,” a forlorn respite from the turmoil, the snare rhythms and bass drum beats are akin to a bolstering drumline. The tempestuous percussion also heightens the sense of desperation in “Kilte.” Closing track “Let It Come to an End” flips the script, letting Cools take a backseat and bringing guitarist Guy Van Campenhout’s growls to the forefront, perhaps emblematic of leaning on loved ones during times of crisis.

In terms of emotional devastation, Absentia is as potent a record as you’re likely to find. Kristien Cools keeps improving with each release, and the compositions complement her increasingly diverse vocal styles well. The deeply personal nature of Splendidula’s work of art is both strength and weakness. The intense and authentic expression of grief is harrowingly beautiful, but in a way that seems impossible for an outsider to fully appreciate. Like attending a funeral for someone you didn’t know, it’s easy to empathize with those in mourning but difficult to feel the same deep personal connection. That said, the next time grief comes for me personally, I may be very grateful that I became acquainted with Absentia.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Argonauta Records
Websites: splendidula.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/Splendidula
Releases Worldwide: April 3rd, 2026

It’s been some time since Splendidula has visited these pages. The fearsome Carcharodon reviewed their sophomore record, Post Mortem, as a wee n00b long ago in 2018, wherein he saw glimmers of potential in the gothic doom metal. He didn’t cover 2021’s Somnus for unknown reasons, though I think he might have been pleased with the heavier post-metal inclinations that permeated the record. The years since then have been rough for this Belgian group, marred by the passing of several loved ones, including their bassist Peter Chromiak. Absentia emerges in the wake of these tragedies as a means to both express and confront this debilitating heartache and loss.

Chromiak’s absence is felt in the very essence of Absentia. Although drummer Joachim Taminau took up the bassist role, the burly bass presence from the prior two records is all but gone. Splendidula kept much of their gothic doom but, fittingly, chose to fill the void with another of metal’s most expressive subgenres—DSBM. Whereas Kristien Cools previously stuck to clean vocals (for the most part), she now becomes both beauty and beast, dividing her time between sorrowful singing and shrieking. She also leans on a couple of notable guest vocalists. Tim Yatras (Austere) adds blackened snarls and backing cleans to “Absentia,” followed by Aaron Stainthorpe (ex-My Dying Bride, High Parasite), who contributes his rumbling growls and velvety baritone to “Echoes of Quiet Remain.” These guest selections neatly encapsulate the two different aspects of Absentia.

Absentia by Splendidula

While much music (and art in general) is born from a place of grief, Absentia is practically synonymous with it. Underneath the stoic exterior lurks a raw torment that flares up whenever and however it wants. For example, “Donkerte” begins with despondent singing, but as the verse progresses, Cools’s voice escalates until finally a primal scream spills out. Later, the double-tracked cleans and screams give the impression of one putting on a brave face as anguish roils inside. When her voice dips into the lower ranges (particularly in “Absentia” and “Let It Come to an End”), it takes on a sort of nasally drawl which augments the mournful atmosphere, though this likely won’t appeal to everyone. Also like grief, sections of certain songs tend to linger for longer than one might like (“Echoes of Quiet Remain,” “Kilte,” “Absentia”).

Absentia musically conveys the importance of a healthy support system during times of grief. Though much hinges on Cools’s vocal performances, the other two members of Splendidula help to sustain her in subtle but important ways. During “Dalkuldar,” a forlorn respite from the turmoil, the snare rhythms and bass drum beats are akin to a bolstering drumline. The tempestuous percussion also heightens the sense of desperation in “Kilte.” Closing track “Let It Come to an End” flips the script, letting Cools take a backseat and bringing guitarist Guy Van Campenhout’s growls to the forefront, perhaps emblematic of leaning on loved ones during times of crisis.

In terms of emotional devastation, Absentia is as potent a record as you’re likely to find. Kristien Cools keeps improving with each release, and the compositions complement her increasingly diverse vocal styles well. The deeply personal nature of Splendidula’s work of art is both strength and weakness. The intense and authentic expression of grief is harrowingly beautiful, but in a way that seems impossible for an outsider to fully appreciate. Like attending a funeral for someone you didn’t know, it’s easy to empathize with those in mourning but difficult to feel the same deep personal connection. That said, the next time grief comes for me personally, I may be very grateful that I became acquainted with Absentia.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Argonauta Records
Websites: splendidula.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/Splendidula
Releases Worldwide: April 3rd, 2026

SolNegre – Anthems for the Grand Collapse Review

Just off Spain’s Mediterranean coast lie the Balearic Islands. Among the approximately 1.2 million island residents is a…
#NewsBeep #News #Music #2026 #3.5 #AnthemsfortheGrandCollapse #Apr26 #AU #Australia #BeachBoys #DoomMetal #Ennui #Entertainment #MeuseMusic #MyDyingBride #NovembersDoom #review #reviews #Saturnus #SolNegre #SpanishMetal
https://www.newsbeep.com/au/583471/

SolNegre – Anthems for the Grand Collapse Review

Just off Spain’s Mediterranean coast lie the Balearic Islands. Among the approximately 1.2 million island residents is a…
#NewsBeep #News #Music #2026 #3.5 #AnthemsfortheGrandCollapse #Apr26 #AU #Australia #BeachBoys #DoomMetal #Ennui #Entertainment #MeuseMusic #MyDyingBride #NovembersDoom #review #reviews #Saturnus #SolNegre #SpanishMetal
https://www.newsbeep.com/au/583471/

Just off Spain’s Mediterranean coast lie the Balearic Islands. Among the approximately 1.2 million island residents is a cadre of musicians who appear to have played together in a variety of projects for some time.1 SolNegre comprises four of these musicians along with a handful of guest contributors. Based on the photos of the beautiful sandy beaches and clear blue water, you might think these guys would play a cheerful genre like Beach Boys-core. Yet, even the beach life must have its woes because what SolNegre deliver is a slab of melancholic doom that has more in common with My Dying Bride or Saturnus than any band playing songs about Piña coladas. Just the sight of their apocalyptic album title, Anthems for the Grand Collapse, makes me want to soak in one of those lovely beaches to rinse off the bleakness. Let’s dive in and see how well these island dwellers do the sadboi.

While the intro for opener, “The Axiom – Song for the Inert Part II,”2 reveals SolNegre’s flair for using synths to create atmosphere, the meat of the song establishes their mix of crushing My Dying Bride riffs and growls with the more energetic death/doom of Novembers Doom. A hooky melodic lead wends its way throughout, culminating in an ambitious solo that takes the lead to new levels. The incredibly catchy follow-up, “The Hollow Inside,” includes a chorus that potentially has appeal for a mainstream audience, even if the track goes off in decidedly non-mainstream directions. The flip side to the death/doom is an Ennui-level funeral doom tune that casts a pall over the already dour mood (“For All that Could Have Been”). SolNegre play sorrowful tunes in an impressively varied number of ways.

The Axiom – Song for the Inert Part 2 by SolNegre

The band members’ strong chemistry shows in their talent and cohesiveness. Ûkh lays down a powerful vocal performance with some muscular death growls. He adds heft and punch alongside an impressively bass-heavy guitar attack. Gebre proves to be the glue that adheres the record together. His deep, chugging bass features on nearly every track, and he also gets to play a nifty jazz solo midway through “The Hollow Within.” Guest contributors add some varied character throughout, such as a solo from Mike Le Rosetti that comprises almost the entire back half of “The Axiom” and some cleans from Pedro Inglés during the jazzy segue on “The Hollow Within.” SolNegre hands the reins over to recurring guest singer Gadea es Ineseta3 and violinist Núria Luis on the remarkably lovely “In the Stillness of the Womb.” Though it skews more soft rock than extreme metal, it features such poignant and affecting performances from Ineseta and Luis that it feels right at home among these anthems to a grand collapse.

20260102_224403

A few iffy songwriting decisions do keep Anthems for the Grand Collapse from greatness, however. For one, SolNegre struggle with coherent lyrics on some tracks. This is especially problematic on “The Hollow Within,” where an awkward attempt at a metaphor combining loneliness, water, and drowning leads to the laughably bad line, “A room without doors or windows / Knowing how to swim is wise.” It’s a sore part of an otherwise terrific song. Further, the hot and cold pacing creates a stuttering feel throughout the record, with a few tunes creeping too slowly and others creeping on a bit too long. “For All That Could Have Been” in particular sags in the middle of the album. Individually, the songs are good to great, but transitions between them can be jarring.

Next time you want to balance out your bright and cheery beach vacation with some downer music, you should pack SolNegre’s Anthems for the Grand Collapse. It’s sure to have you and your family looking to drown out your loneliness and sorrows in the warm, beautiful waters lapping at your toes. This has proven to be a solid sophomore effort from the Balearic Islands. I love to hear the passion on display, and even where the band shows some warts, it only makes the record all the more endearing. I hope those island beaches don’t keep these guys happy and occupied for too long so they can put out another record sooner rather than later.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Meuse Music
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Site
Releases Worldwide: April 3rd, 2026

Just off Spain’s Mediterranean coast lie the Balearic Islands. Among the approximately 1.2 million island residents is a cadre of musicians who appear to have played together in a variety of projects for some time.1 SolNegre comprises four of these musicians along with a handful of guest contributors. Based on the photos of the beautiful sandy beaches and clear blue water, you might think these guys would play a cheerful genre like Beach Boys-core. Yet, even the beach life must have its woes because what SolNegre deliver is a slab of melancholic doom that has more in common with My Dying Bride or Saturnus than any band playing songs about Piña coladas. Just the sight of their apocalyptic album title, Anthems for the Grand Collapse, makes me want to soak in one of those lovely beaches to rinse off the bleakness. Let’s dive in and see how well these island dwellers do the sadboi.

While the intro for opener, “The Axiom – Song for the Inert Part II,”2 reveals SolNegre’s flair for using synths to create atmosphere, the meat of the song establishes their mix of crushing My Dying Bride riffs and growls with the more energetic death/doom of Novembers Doom. A hooky melodic lead wends its way throughout, culminating in an ambitious solo that takes the lead to new levels. The incredibly catchy follow-up, “The Hollow Inside,” includes a chorus that potentially has appeal for a mainstream audience, even if the track goes off in decidedly non-mainstream directions. The flip side to the death/doom is an Ennui-level funeral doom tune that casts a pall over the already dour mood (“For All that Could Have Been”). SolNegre play sorrowful tunes in an impressively varied number of ways.

The Axiom – Song for the Inert Part 2 by SolNegre

The band members’ strong chemistry shows in their talent and cohesiveness. Ûkh lays down a powerful vocal performance with some muscular death growls. He adds heft and punch alongside an impressively bass-heavy guitar attack. Gebre proves to be the glue that adheres the record together. His deep, chugging bass features on nearly every track, and he also gets to play a nifty jazz solo midway through “The Hollow Within.” Guest contributors add some varied character throughout, such as a solo from Mike Le Rosetti that comprises almost the entire back half of “The Axiom” and some cleans from Pedro Inglés during the jazzy segue on “The Hollow Within.” SolNegre hands the reins over to recurring guest singer Gadea es Ineseta3 and violinist Núria Luis on the remarkably lovely “In the Stillness of the Womb.” Though it skews more soft rock than extreme metal, it features such poignant and affecting performances from Ineseta and Luis that it feels right at home among these anthems to a grand collapse.

20260102_224403

A few iffy songwriting decisions do keep Anthems for the Grand Collapse from greatness, however. For one, SolNegre struggle with coherent lyrics on some tracks. This is especially problematic on “The Hollow Within,” where an awkward attempt at a metaphor combining loneliness, water, and drowning leads to the laughably bad line, “A room without doors or windows / Knowing how to swim is wise.” It’s a sore part of an otherwise terrific song. Further, the hot and cold pacing creates a stuttering feel throughout the record, with a few tunes creeping too slowly and others creeping on a bit too long. “For All That Could Have Been” in particular sags in the middle of the album. Individually, the songs are good to great, but transitions between them can be jarring.

Next time you want to balance out your bright and cheery beach vacation with some downer music, you should pack SolNegre’s Anthems for the Grand Collapse. It’s sure to have you and your family looking to drown out your loneliness and sorrows in the warm, beautiful waters lapping at your toes. This has proven to be a solid sophomore effort from the Balearic Islands. I love to hear the passion on display, and even where the band shows some warts, it only makes the record all the more endearing. I hope those island beaches don’t keep these guys happy and occupied for too long so they can put out another record sooner rather than later.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Meuse Music
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Site
Releases Worldwide: April 3rd, 2026

Just off Spain’s Mediterranean coast lie the Balearic Islands. Among the approximately 1.2 million island residents is a cadre of musicians who appear to have played together in a variety of projects for some time.1 SolNegre comprises four of these musicians along with a handful of guest contributors. Based on the photos of the beautiful sandy beaches and clear blue water, you might think these guys would play a cheerful genre like Beach Boys-core. Yet, even the beach life must have its woes because what SolNegre deliver is a slab of melancholic doom that has more in common with My Dying Bride or Saturnus than any band playing songs about Piña coladas. Just the sight of their apocalyptic album title, Anthems for the Grand Collapse, makes me want to soak in one of those lovely beaches to rinse off the bleakness. Let’s dive in and see how well these island dwellers do the sadboi.

While the intro for opener, “The Axiom – Song for the Inert Part II,”2 reveals SolNegre’s flair for using synths to create atmosphere, the meat of the song establishes their mix of crushing My Dying Bride riffs and growls with the more energetic death/doom of Novembers Doom. A hooky melodic lead wends its way throughout, culminating in an ambitious solo that takes the lead to new levels. The incredibly catchy follow-up, “The Hollow Inside,” includes a chorus that potentially has appeal for a mainstream audience, even if the track goes off in decidedly non-mainstream directions. The flip side to the death/doom is an Ennui-level funeral doom tune that casts a pall over the already dour mood (“For All that Could Have Been”). SolNegre play sorrowful tunes in an impressively varied number of ways.

The Axiom – Song for the Inert Part 2 by SolNegre

The band members’ strong chemistry shows in their talent and cohesiveness. Ûkh lays down a powerful vocal performance with some muscular death growls. He adds heft and punch alongside an impressively bass-heavy guitar attack. Gebre proves to be the glue that adheres the record together. His deep, chugging bass features on nearly every track, and he also gets to play a nifty jazz solo midway through “The Hollow Within.” Guest contributors add some varied character throughout, such as a solo from Mike Le Rosetti that comprises almost the entire back half of “The Axiom” and some cleans from Pedro Inglés during the jazzy segue on “The Hollow Within.” SolNegre hands the reins over to recurring guest singer Gadea es Ineseta3 and violinist Núria Luis on the remarkably lovely “In the Stillness of the Womb.” Though it skews more soft rock than extreme metal, it features such poignant and affecting performances from Ineseta and Luis that it feels right at home among these anthems to a grand collapse.

20260102_224403

A few iffy songwriting decisions do keep Anthems for the Grand Collapse from greatness, however. For one, SolNegre struggle with coherent lyrics on some tracks. This is especially problematic on “The Hollow Within,” where an awkward attempt at a metaphor combining loneliness, water, and drowning leads to the laughably bad line, “A room without doors or windows / Knowing how to swim is wise.” It’s a sore part of an otherwise terrific song. Further, the hot and cold pacing creates a stuttering feel throughout the record, with a few tunes creeping too slowly and others creeping on a bit too long. “For All That Could Have Been” in particular sags in the middle of the album. Individually, the songs are good to great, but transitions between them can be jarring.

Next time you want to balance out your bright and cheery beach vacation with some downer music, you should pack SolNegre’s Anthems for the Grand Collapse. It’s sure to have you and your family looking to drown out your loneliness and sorrows in the warm, beautiful waters lapping at your toes. This has proven to be a solid sophomore effort from the Balearic Islands. I love to hear the passion on display, and even where the band shows some warts, it only makes the record all the more endearing. I hope those island beaches don’t keep these guys happy and occupied for too long so they can put out another record sooner rather than later.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Meuse Music
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Site
Releases Worldwide: April 3rd, 2026

Just off Spain’s Mediterranean coast lie the Balearic Islands. Among the approximately 1.2 million island residents is a cadre of musicians who appear to have played together in a variety of projects for some time.1 SolNegre comprises four of these musicians along with a handful of guest contributors. Based on the photos of the beautiful sandy beaches and clear blue water, you might think these guys would play a cheerful genre like Beach Boys-core. Yet, even the beach life must have its woes because what SolNegre deliver is a slab of melancholic doom that has more in common with My Dying Bride or Saturnus than any band playing songs about Piña coladas. Just the sight of their apocalyptic album title, Anthems for the Grand Collapse, makes me want to soak in one of those lovely beaches to rinse off the bleakness. Let’s dive in and see how well these island dwellers do the sadboi.

While the intro for opener, “The Axiom – Song for the Inert Part II,”2 reveals SolNegre’s flair for using synths to create atmosphere, the meat of the song establishes their mix of crushing My Dying Bride riffs and growls with the more energetic death/doom of Novembers Doom. A hooky melodic lead wends its way throughout, culminating in an ambitious solo that takes the lead to new levels. The incredibly catchy follow-up, “The Hollow Inside,” includes a chorus that potentially has appeal for a mainstream audience, even if the track goes off in decidedly non-mainstream directions. The flip side to the death/doom is an Ennui-level funeral doom tune that casts a pall over the already dour mood (“For All that Could Have Been”). SolNegre play sorrowful tunes in an impressively varied number of ways.

The Axiom – Song for the Inert Part 2 by SolNegre

The band members’ strong chemistry shows in their talent and cohesiveness. Ûkh lays down a powerful vocal performance with some muscular death growls. He adds heft and punch alongside an impressively bass-heavy guitar attack. Gebre proves to be the glue that adheres the record together. His deep, chugging bass features on nearly every track, and he also gets to play a nifty jazz solo midway through “The Hollow Within.” Guest contributors add some varied character throughout, such as a solo from Mike Le Rosetti that comprises almost the entire back half of “The Axiom” and some cleans from Pedro Inglés during the jazzy segue on “The Hollow Within.” SolNegre hands the reins over to recurring guest singer Gadea es Ineseta3 and violinist Núria Luis on the remarkably lovely “In the Stillness of the Womb.” Though it skews more soft rock than extreme metal, it features such poignant and affecting performances from Ineseta and Luis that it feels right at home among these anthems to a grand collapse.

20260102_224403

A few iffy songwriting decisions do keep Anthems for the Grand Collapse from greatness, however. For one, SolNegre struggle with coherent lyrics on some tracks. This is especially problematic on “The Hollow Within,” where an awkward attempt at a metaphor combining loneliness, water, and drowning leads to the laughably bad line, “A room without doors or windows / Knowing how to swim is wise.” It’s a sore part of an otherwise terrific song. Further, the hot and cold pacing creates a stuttering feel throughout the record, with a few tunes creeping too slowly and others creeping on a bit too long. “For All That Could Have Been” in particular sags in the middle of the album. Individually, the songs are good to great, but transitions between them can be jarring.

Next time you want to balance out your bright and cheery beach vacation with some downer music, you should pack SolNegre’s Anthems for the Grand Collapse. It’s sure to have you and your family looking to drown out your loneliness and sorrows in the warm, beautiful waters lapping at your toes. This has proven to be a solid sophomore effort from the Balearic Islands. I love to hear the passion on display, and even where the band shows some warts, it only makes the record all the more endearing. I hope those island beaches don’t keep these guys happy and occupied for too long so they can put out another record sooner rather than later.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Meuse Music
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Site
Releases Worldwide: April 3rd, 2026

Just off Spain’s Mediterranean coast lie the Balearic Islands. Among the approximately 1.2 million island residents is a cadre of musicians who appear to have played together in a variety of projects for some time.1 SolNegre comprises four of these musicians along with a handful of guest contributors. Based on the photos of the beautiful sandy beaches and clear blue water, you might think these guys would play a cheerful genre like Beach Boys-core. Yet, even the beach life must have its woes because what SolNegre deliver is a slab of melancholic doom that has more in common with My Dying Bride or Saturnus than any band playing songs about Piña coladas. Just the sight of their apocalyptic album title, Anthems for the Grand Collapse, makes me want to soak in one of those lovely beaches to rinse off the bleakness. Let’s dive in and see how well these island dwellers do the sadboi.

While the intro for opener, “The Axiom – Song for the Inert Part II,”2 reveals SolNegre’s flair for using synths to create atmosphere, the meat of the song establishes their mix of crushing My Dying Bride riffs and growls with the more energetic death/doom of Novembers Doom. A hooky melodic lead wends its way throughout, culminating in an ambitious solo that takes the lead to new levels. The incredibly catchy follow-up, “The Hollow Inside,” includes a chorus that potentially has appeal for a mainstream audience, even if the track goes off in decidedly non-mainstream directions. The flip side to the death/doom is an Ennui-level funeral doom tune that casts a pall over the already dour mood (“For All that Could Have Been”). SolNegre play sorrowful tunes in an impressively varied number of ways.

The Axiom – Song for the Inert Part 2 by SolNegre

The band members’ strong chemistry shows in their talent and cohesiveness. Ûkh lays down a powerful vocal performance with some muscular death growls. He adds heft and punch alongside an impressively bass-heavy guitar attack. Gebre proves to be the glue that adheres the record together. His deep, chugging bass features on nearly every track, and he also gets to play a nifty jazz solo midway through “The Hollow Within.” Guest contributors add some varied character throughout, such as a solo from Mike Le Rosetti that comprises almost the entire back half of “The Axiom” and some cleans from Pedro Inglés during the jazzy segue on “The Hollow Within.” SolNegre hands the reins over to recurring guest singer Gadea es Ineseta3 and violinist Núria Luis on the remarkably lovely “In the Stillness of the Womb.” Though it skews more soft rock than extreme metal, it features such poignant and affecting performances from Ineseta and Luis that it feels right at home among these anthems to a grand collapse.

20260102_224403

A few iffy songwriting decisions do keep Anthems for the Grand Collapse from greatness, however. For one, SolNegre struggle with coherent lyrics on some tracks. This is especially problematic on “The Hollow Within,” where an awkward attempt at a metaphor combining loneliness, water, and drowning leads to the laughably bad line, “A room without doors or windows / Knowing how to swim is wise.” It’s a sore part of an otherwise terrific song. Further, the hot and cold pacing creates a stuttering feel throughout the record, with a few tunes creeping too slowly and others creeping on a bit too long. “For All That Could Have Been” in particular sags in the middle of the album. Individually, the songs are good to great, but transitions between them can be jarring.

Next time you want to balance out your bright and cheery beach vacation with some downer music, you should pack SolNegre’s Anthems for the Grand Collapse. It’s sure to have you and your family looking to drown out your loneliness and sorrows in the warm, beautiful waters lapping at your toes. This has proven to be a solid sophomore effort from the Balearic Islands. I love to hear the passion on display, and even where the band shows some warts, it only makes the record all the more endearing. I hope those island beaches don’t keep these guys happy and occupied for too long so they can put out another record sooner rather than later.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Meuse Music
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Site
Releases Worldwide: April 3rd, 2026

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

https://www.europesays.com/ie/327262/ Lone Wanderer – Exequaie Review #2026 #4.0 #Éire #Entertainment #Exequaie #FuneralDoom #GermanMetal #Godthrymm #HighRollerRecords #IE #Ireland #Jan26 #LoneWanderer #Music #MyDyingBride #Oromet #Review #Reviews #SwallowTheSun

It’s no secret that funeral doom is all about death, but in case you weren’t aware, Lone Wanderer hits you over the head with the fact (don’t worry, it’s not a fatal whack). The title of their latest record, Exequaie, is Latin for “funeral rites.” The album cover, from Ernst Ferdinand Oehme’s 1828 painting Procession in the Fog, depicts a ghostly funeral procession, and most song titles use death as a theme in some shape or form. Lone Wanderer have been at this for over ten years, but they’ve been independent until now, signing with High Roller Records for the release of Exequaie. According to the band’s promo sheet, this will be album number three, but perhaps it’s telling how funeral doom warps one’s sense of time when they claim that their 43-minute debut is an EP. Their follow-up, The Majesty of Loss, is only three minutes longer, so it’s anyone’s guess where they draw the line between LP and EP. Their albums have only gotten longer since, with The Faustian Winter hitting the hour mark and now Exequaie reaching a lofty 72 minutes. Honestly, if you’re looking for a soundtrack to your funeral, this isn’t a bad option.

On the funeral doom scale, Lone Wanderer fits the Oromet scale more closely than My Dying Bride or Godthrymm. Exequaie mixes the gentle with the crushingly heavy, and the heavier riffs carry more reverb than muscle, lending a more tranquil feel than raw power. Over the course of 24 minutes, the beastly opener “To Rest Eternally” demonstrates Lone Wanderer’s slow burn approach, with impenetrably deep vocals, glacial drum beats, and a slowly developed melody. The gentler portions put away the booming drums and instead twinkle with arpeggiated rhythm while the bass plays out a complementary melody. We hear this tug and pull throughout Exequiaie, from the melancholic and heavy to something more peaceful, still tinged with sorrow but carrying a little hope. Ironically, “Anhedonia”1 showcases the album’s most pleasurable and memorable riffs during its opening few minutes. The remainder is also exquisite, delving into immense sorrow before closing out in tranquility. The song guides you into gentle acceptance of the fate that awaits us all at the end.

Exequiae by Lone Wanderer

Going in line with the “funeral rites” theme, plenty of elements in Exequaie appear to represent religious symbols or godly figures. The opening minutes of “To Rest Eternally” provide a distant reminder of a church setting with the tolling of bells. This holy setting returns in the finale, “Epistemology of the Passed,” where organs play a mournful dirge alongside wistful arpeggios. The vocals from Bruno Schotten serve as an omnipresent character, his low rumbles coming off like thunder rolling through the sky. Scattered throughout the album, Lone Wanderer perform spoken word portions that serve to enhance this godly persona. While such song segments are generally a nuisance, here they fit seamlessly, taking on the presence of an Oz-like character, commanding yet distant. The purpose of these elements may be inscrutable, but they do provide a sense of formality and authority accompanying death.

As great as the individual tracks are, Exequiae’s biggest obstacle is its own length. With any funeral doom record, holding the listener’s attention can be a challenge, and a 72-minute runtime across 5 songs feels more like work than pleasure. Yet there is plenty to enjoy on this epic record, and Lone Wanderer does implement some variety to mix things up a bit. “Existence Nullified” has a moment of chugging death-doom riffs that take me back to early Swallow the Sun. “Epistemology of the Passed” has a similar increase in tempo thanks to energetic tremolos and brisk drum beats. These moments are brief and few, but all the more notable because of their rarity. In the end, Exequaie’s length isn’t a deal breaker because it has such exquisite compositions. There’s just so much beauty in the music it could go on for twice as long and it’d still be heavenly.

Lone Wanderer is kicking funeral doom off to a great start for 2026. There’s something about the band’s often gentle sound that creates calm, as opposed to bands that lay the despair and melancholy thick with more powerful, overbearing guitar tones. Don’t let the 72 minutes intimidate you. Set aside some time and let Exequiae’s mix of melancholic, peaceful, and even hopeful tones wash over you and transport you, for a time, to a place where you no longer need to worry.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: High Roller Records
Website: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: January 30th, 2026

It’s no secret that funeral doom is all about death, but in case you weren’t aware, Lone Wanderer hits you over the head with the fact (don’t worry, it’s not a fatal whack). The title of their latest record, Exequaie, is Latin for “funeral rites.” The album cover, from Ernst Ferdinand Oehme’s 1828 painting Procession in the Fog, depicts a ghostly funeral procession, and most song titles use death as a theme in some shape or form. Lone Wanderer have been at this for over ten years, but they’ve been independent until now, signing with High Roller Records for the release of Exequaie. According to the band’s promo sheet, this will be album number three, but perhaps it’s telling how funeral doom warps one’s sense of time when they claim that their 43-minute debut is an EP. Their follow-up, The Majesty of Loss, is only three minutes longer, so it’s anyone’s guess where they draw the line between LP and EP. Their albums have only gotten longer since, with The Faustian Winter hitting the hour mark and now Exequaie reaching a lofty 72 minutes. Honestly, if you’re looking for a soundtrack to your funeral, this isn’t a bad option.

On the funeral doom scale, Lone Wanderer fits the Oromet scale more closely than My Dying Bride or Godthrymm. Exequaie mixes the gentle with the crushingly heavy, and the heavier riffs carry more reverb than muscle, lending a more tranquil feel than raw power. Over the course of 24 minutes, the beastly opener “To Rest Eternally” demonstrates Lone Wanderer’s slow burn approach, with impenetrably deep vocals, glacial drum beats, and a slowly developed melody. The gentler portions put away the booming drums and instead twinkle with arpeggiated rhythm while the bass plays out a complementary melody. We hear this tug and pull throughout Exequiaie, from the melancholic and heavy to something more peaceful, still tinged with sorrow but carrying a little hope. Ironically, “Anhedonia”1 showcases the album’s most pleasurable and memorable riffs during its opening few minutes. The remainder is also exquisite, delving into immense sorrow before closing out in tranquility. The song guides you into gentle acceptance of the fate that awaits us all at the end.

Exequiae by Lone Wanderer

Going in line with the “funeral rites” theme, plenty of elements in Exequaie appear to represent religious symbols or godly figures. The opening minutes of “To Rest Eternally” provide a distant reminder of a church setting with the tolling of bells. This holy setting returns in the finale, “Epistemology of the Passed,” where organs play a mournful dirge alongside wistful arpeggios. The vocals from Bruno Schotten serve as an omnipresent character, his low rumbles coming off like thunder rolling through the sky. Scattered throughout the album, Lone Wanderer perform spoken word portions that serve to enhance this godly persona. While such song segments are generally a nuisance, here they fit seamlessly, taking on the presence of an Oz-like character, commanding yet distant. The purpose of these elements may be inscrutable, but they do provide a sense of formality and authority accompanying death.

As great as the individual tracks are, Exequiae’s biggest obstacle is its own length. With any funeral doom record, holding the listener’s attention can be a challenge, and a 72-minute runtime across 5 songs feels more like work than pleasure. Yet there is plenty to enjoy on this epic record, and Lone Wanderer does implement some variety to mix things up a bit. “Existence Nullified” has a moment of chugging death-doom riffs that take me back to early Swallow the Sun. “Epistemology of the Passed” has a similar increase in tempo thanks to energetic tremolos and brisk drum beats. These moments are brief and few, but all the more notable because of their rarity. In the end, Exequaie’s length isn’t a deal breaker because it has such exquisite compositions. There’s just so much beauty in the music it could go on for twice as long and it’d still be heavenly.

Lone Wanderer is kicking funeral doom off to a great start for 2026. There’s something about the band’s often gentle sound that creates calm, as opposed to bands that lay the despair and melancholy thick with more powerful, overbearing guitar tones. Don’t let the 72 minutes intimidate you. Set aside some time and let Exequiae’s mix of melancholic, peaceful, and even hopeful tones wash over you and transport you, for a time, to a place where you no longer need to worry.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: High Roller Records
Website: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: January 30th, 2026

It’s no secret that funeral doom is all about death, but in case you weren’t aware, Lone Wanderer hits you over the head with the fact (don’t worry, it’s not a fatal whack). The title of their latest record, Exequaie, is Latin for “funeral rites.” The album cover, from Ernst Ferdinand Oehme’s 1828 painting Procession in the Fog, depicts a ghostly funeral procession, and most song titles use death as a theme in some shape or form. Lone Wanderer have been at this for over ten years, but they’ve been independent until now, signing with High Roller Records for the release of Exequaie. According to the band’s promo sheet, this will be album number three, but perhaps it’s telling how funeral doom warps one’s sense of time when they claim that their 43-minute debut is an EP. Their follow-up, The Majesty of Loss, is only three minutes longer, so it’s anyone’s guess where they draw the line between LP and EP. Their albums have only gotten longer since, with The Faustian Winter hitting the hour mark and now Exequaie reaching a lofty 72 minutes. Honestly, if you’re looking for a soundtrack to your funeral, this isn’t a bad option.

On the funeral doom scale, Lone Wanderer fits the Oromet scale more closely than My Dying Bride or Godthrymm. Exequaie mixes the gentle with the crushingly heavy, and the heavier riffs carry more reverb than muscle, lending a more tranquil feel than raw power. Over the course of 24 minutes, the beastly opener “To Rest Eternally” demonstrates Lone Wanderer’s slow burn approach, with impenetrably deep vocals, glacial drum beats, and a slowly developed melody. The gentler portions put away the booming drums and instead twinkle with arpeggiated rhythm while the bass plays out a complementary melody. We hear this tug and pull throughout Exequiaie, from the melancholic and heavy to something more peaceful, still tinged with sorrow but carrying a little hope. Ironically, “Anhedonia”1 showcases the album’s most pleasurable and memorable riffs during its opening few minutes. The remainder is also exquisite, delving into immense sorrow before closing out in tranquility. The song guides you into gentle acceptance of the fate that awaits us all at the end.

Exequiae by Lone Wanderer

Going in line with the “funeral rites” theme, plenty of elements in Exequaie appear to represent religious symbols or godly figures. The opening minutes of “To Rest Eternally” provide a distant reminder of a church setting with the tolling of bells. This holy setting returns in the finale, “Epistemology of the Passed,” where organs play a mournful dirge alongside wistful arpeggios. The vocals from Bruno Schotten serve as an omnipresent character, his low rumbles coming off like thunder rolling through the sky. Scattered throughout the album, Lone Wanderer perform spoken word portions that serve to enhance this godly persona. While such song segments are generally a nuisance, here they fit seamlessly, taking on the presence of an Oz-like character, commanding yet distant. The purpose of these elements may be inscrutable, but they do provide a sense of formality and authority accompanying death.

As great as the individual tracks are, Exequiae’s biggest obstacle is its own length. With any funeral doom record, holding the listener’s attention can be a challenge, and a 72-minute runtime across 5 songs feels more like work than pleasure. Yet there is plenty to enjoy on this epic record, and Lone Wanderer does implement some variety to mix things up a bit. “Existence Nullified” has a moment of chugging death-doom riffs that take me back to early Swallow the Sun. “Epistemology of the Passed” has a similar increase in tempo thanks to energetic tremolos and brisk drum beats. These moments are brief and few, but all the more notable because of their rarity. In the end, Exequaie’s length isn’t a deal breaker because it has such exquisite compositions. There’s just so much beauty in the music it could go on for twice as long and it’d still be heavenly.

Lone Wanderer is kicking funeral doom off to a great start for 2026. There’s something about the band’s often gentle sound that creates calm, as opposed to bands that lay the despair and melancholy thick with more powerful, overbearing guitar tones. Don’t let the 72 minutes intimidate you. Set aside some time and let Exequiae’s mix of melancholic, peaceful, and even hopeful tones wash over you and transport you, for a time, to a place where you no longer need to worry.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: High Roller Records
Website: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: January 30th, 2026

It’s no secret that funeral doom is all about death, but in case you weren’t aware, Lone Wanderer hits you over the head with the fact (don’t worry, it’s not a fatal whack). The title of their latest record, Exequaie, is Latin for “funeral rites.” The album cover, from Ernst Ferdinand Oehme’s 1828 painting Procession in the Fog, depicts a ghostly funeral procession, and most song titles use death as a theme in some shape or form. Lone Wanderer have been at this for over ten years, but they’ve been independent until now, signing with High Roller Records for the release of Exequaie. According to the band’s promo sheet, this will be album number three, but perhaps it’s telling how funeral doom warps one’s sense of time when they claim that their 43-minute debut is an EP. Their follow-up, The Majesty of Loss, is only three minutes longer, so it’s anyone’s guess where they draw the line between LP and EP. Their albums have only gotten longer since, with The Faustian Winter hitting the hour mark and now Exequaie reaching a lofty 72 minutes. Honestly, if you’re looking for a soundtrack to your funeral, this isn’t a bad option.

On the funeral doom scale, Lone Wanderer fits the Oromet scale more closely than My Dying Bride or Godthrymm. Exequaie mixes the gentle with the crushingly heavy, and the heavier riffs carry more reverb than muscle, lending a more tranquil feel than raw power. Over the course of 24 minutes, the beastly opener “To Rest Eternally” demonstrates Lone Wanderer’s slow burn approach, with impenetrably deep vocals, glacial drum beats, and a slowly developed melody. The gentler portions put away the booming drums and instead twinkle with arpeggiated rhythm while the bass plays out a complementary melody. We hear this tug and pull throughout Exequiaie, from the melancholic and heavy to something more peaceful, still tinged with sorrow but carrying a little hope. Ironically, “Anhedonia”1 showcases the album’s most pleasurable and memorable riffs during its opening few minutes. The remainder is also exquisite, delving into immense sorrow before closing out in tranquility. The song guides you into gentle acceptance of the fate that awaits us all at the end.

Exequiae by Lone Wanderer

Going in line with the “funeral rites” theme, plenty of elements in Exequaie appear to represent religious symbols or godly figures. The opening minutes of “To Rest Eternally” provide a distant reminder of a church setting with the tolling of bells. This holy setting returns in the finale, “Epistemology of the Passed,” where organs play a mournful dirge alongside wistful arpeggios. The vocals from Bruno Schotten serve as an omnipresent character, his low rumbles coming off like thunder rolling through the sky. Scattered throughout the album, Lone Wanderer perform spoken word portions that serve to enhance this godly persona. While such song segments are generally a nuisance, here they fit seamlessly, taking on the presence of an Oz-like character, commanding yet distant. The purpose of these elements may be inscrutable, but they do provide a sense of formality and authority accompanying death.

As great as the individual tracks are, Exequiae’s biggest obstacle is its own length. With any funeral doom record, holding the listener’s attention can be a challenge, and a 72-minute runtime across 5 songs feels more like work than pleasure. Yet there is plenty to enjoy on this epic record, and Lone Wanderer does implement some variety to mix things up a bit. “Existence Nullified” has a moment of chugging death-doom riffs that take me back to early Swallow the Sun. “Epistemology of the Passed” has a similar increase in tempo thanks to energetic tremolos and brisk drum beats. These moments are brief and few, but all the more notable because of their rarity. In the end, Exequaie’s length isn’t a deal breaker because it has such exquisite compositions. There’s just so much beauty in the music it could go on for twice as long and it’d still be heavenly.

Lone Wanderer is kicking funeral doom off to a great start for 2026. There’s something about the band’s often gentle sound that creates calm, as opposed to bands that lay the despair and melancholy thick with more powerful, overbearing guitar tones. Don’t let the 72 minutes intimidate you. Set aside some time and let Exequiae’s mix of melancholic, peaceful, and even hopeful tones wash over you and transport you, for a time, to a place where you no longer need to worry.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: High Roller Records
Website: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: January 30th, 2026