#norwegianmetal — Public Fediverse posts

Finally the rain has stopped falling and the ducts are dry. Musty and filled with bodies of lost minions, maybe, but dry. This means that I can send my remaining minions in to trudge for gems and nuggets on double time—same pay of course. And for a great cause!

Okay maybe not a great cause, but at least a decently good cause. Someone’s got to let the people know what decently good things came out in July, after all. BEHOLD!

ClarkKent’s House of Horrors

Mourir // Nous, le Venin [July 10th, 2026 – Self Released]

The French have proven to be masters at writing spine-tingling black metal, from Blut Aus Nord’s Disharmonium albums to Hasard’s horrifying symphonic soundscapes. Add to that list the atmoblack group Mourir, with their third record, Nous, le Venin, a work that unsettles with dissonant riffs and deranged shrieks and shouts. They combine DSBM-style vocals with the sort of melodic tremolos played by Pure Wrath in a sinister concoction that’s simultaneously entertaining and horrifying. Dissonance creates a Veilburner topsy-turvy effect that catches listeners off-guard, as evidenced late on “Mon Rêve Animal,” which drifts into an improvisational, jazzy drum solo that’s weird but also cool. Similar to Hasard, Mourir play with tons of energy, running blast beats in breathless suicide sprints that barely give you time to find your bearings. Yet Mahell’s kit work also demonstrates plenty of diversity. “Ennui Ennemi” is a case study, from the opening fits and starts to furious blast beats to a complete cessation of drums as suspense builds from slow, discordant chords. There are plenty of artsy touches utilizing lengthy passages of silence—”Je Est Absent” contains notes of chilling riffs that break the fragile peace. The riffs are no slouch either, wavering between enjoyable melodic tremolos and hair-raising chords of terror. If you like your black metal unconventional, you’ll find plenty to enjoy, and to unsettle, on Nous, le Venin, which may or may not leave your sanity intact.

Profane Burial // Desolate Echoes of Turmoil [July 24th, 2026 – These Hands Melt]

Not wanting to be outdone by the French, Norway’s Profane Burial throw their hat in the ring for some bone-chilling tunes on their third full-length album, Desolate Echoes of Turmoil. Dear Hollow enjoyed their prior release, 2024’s My Plateau, calling it “scatterbrained and wonky” and “a fun-as-hell symphonic black metal foray.” The orchestral music combined with the unsettling guitar work has the feel of a cinematic score, something that could accompany the whimsical horror of Sweeney Todd. The record has touches of Dimmu Borgir, but with the sinister discordance of this year’s other symphonic horror black metal release from Vesseles. Profane Burial seeks to challenge, with dense layers of chugging guitars underpinning the sound, but additional layers of guitar allow for some noodling to creep in so the music doesn’t leave you completely cold. While Desolate Echoes of Turmoil doesn’t lure you in with hooks, it’s still plenty mesmerizing in its atmospheric guitar work and icy blast beats. The symphonic portions often play second fiddle to the guitars and drums, but prove exhilarating on the likes of “Triumph of Dreadful Aftermath,” a true symphony of horrors. It’s challenging, it’s avant-garde, and it’s dense, yet something about Desolate Echoes of Turmoil weaves a spell that lures listeners into its twisted cinematic soundscape.

Creeping Ivy’s Varied Velocities

Frolic // Legacies of Cybernetica [July 3rd, 2026 – Hectic Records]

Initially, I thought thrash could only rage through hellscapes, warscapes, and other such scary ‘scapes. But then I finally heard Death Angel’s Frolic Through the Park (1988), which showed me that the genre could happily move in a carefree way through natural spaces. I have to think that Frolic, a thrash band from the Bay Area, derived its name from the imperative verb found on the classic sophomore album by the Bay Area thrash legends. After all, this Hayward foursome forge a fun thrash core, consisting of frenzied finger-tapping, technical gallops, and glorious guitarmonies (“Legacies of Cybernetica”). There’s nothing natural, however, about the seven Legacies of Cybernetica Frolic bequeath to listeners, in the form of their own sophomore effort. Indeed, “Disasters of Experiments” shows guitarists Edgar Sánchez and Lenny “Real Steel” Ramirez ripping riffs and solos at ungodly speeds, while “Living in Virtuality” leads bassist Zak Kufeld to strut his highly active bass tone, supported by the dexterous drumming of Elijah Post. “A Shattered Soul” perfectly encapsulates the band’s talent for making tasty, tight jams feel adventurous. Sánchez’s rasps overlay a blackened exterior onto modern, technical thrash that should excite fans of Warbringer, Havok, and the like. The rhythm guitar tone is a bit wetter than I’d like, and the nine-minute title track does stall the album somewhat out the gate. But overall, Legacies of Cybernetica strolls along at 38 minutes, consistently kicking ass and heralding a promising voice in thrash.

Slow Goat // Where the Wisest Fear to Tread [July 10th, 2026 – Self Released]

I had no idea goats were fast creatures. Apparently, they can travel anywhere between 15 and 40 miles per hour, depending on whether they’re domesticated or wild. Their sprightliness isn’t a reason why goats are so heavily associated with black metal, but it’s a happy accident, at the very least. Given their surprising speed (at least to me), it makes sense that a metal band named Slow Goat would play stoner-doom. On Where the Wisest Fear to Tread, this Portland, OR foursome’s debut, stoner-doom comes in an assortment of flavors. In their most domesticated moments, Slow Goat deal in straightforward bangers that let the sultry mid-range of vocalist Rosie Peterson shine, recalling the skulking and skittering of a Castle Rat (“Fallen Child”). On the untamed side of things, bassist Adam Carter and drummer Eric Bloombaum become more central, initiating jammy slow burns that waft like a waving Windhand (“Visions/Fell Ritual”). Feeling more like domesticated wildness is a track like “Sisyphus,” where guitarist Dan Black conjures classic Khemmis via fuzzy melodic riffs with some get up n’ go. Where the Wisest Fear to Tread may be a bit overlong at 46 minutes, but there’s enough variety within a limited paradigm to keep things interesting. The doomy descent of closer “Under the Glass,” coupled with Peterson’s dynamic vocal performance and Black’s concluding shreddery, leaves me happily wanting more from these Portlanders. If and when it drops, I’ll be hurtling towards Slow Goat’s sophomore album with goat-like speed.

Grin Reaper’s Melodic Mistreaters

Sigyn // From Nation to Chaos [July 10th, 2026 – Noble Demon]

Generally speaking, Finnish melodeath is my favorite melodeath,1 and Sigyn’s sophomore effort From Nation to Chaos brims with all the goodies I love. Key-forward compositions adorned with soaring guitars and hooks sharp enough to pierce iron2 litter From Nation’s runtime with ear candy galore. Echoing Finnish titans Omnium Gatherum and Children of Bodom, Sigyn clearly understands how to weave ultra-sticky melodies into tightly crafted tracks that teem with slick production and toothsome bite. “Break These Chains” shimmers with chilling synths à la I Worship Chaos, and the key-bleating from “Blind Prophet” would sound at home on The Burning Cold or Origin. Besides luxuriating in honey-sweet melodeath, Sigyn dabbles with Nightwish-informed orchestrations that call to mind Imaginaerum (“The Crawlers”) and Endless Forms Most Beautiful (“World in Flames”). Although the influences ring clearly, Sigyn mixes them together in a way that sounds inspired and honed to lodge in your memory bank for days on end. In a month that had fewer quality releases than the bounty that graced us earlier in the year, From Nation to Chaos embodies a Sigyn of better things to come.

Galneryus // A Cry from the Sky Above [July 15th, 2026 – Warner Music Japan]

The quality of Galneryus records may fluctuate from release to release, but the Japanese export has one of the most consistently high floors in all of metal. Galneryus returned in July with their sixteenth album, and even if it doesn’t assail listeners with any new tricks, A Cry from the Sky Above delivers a bevy of raucous moments that inspire air guitar heroics and singalong anthems. Harnessing the hard-rocking sensibilities of X Japan and straining them through the technical ecstasy of Symphony X, Galneryus once again captivates with their grasp of how fun power metal can be. “The Light of Hope” starts off with an 80s synth intro ripped straight out of Europe3 before giving way to Syu’s six-string capers and Masatoshi Ono’s velvety tenor. “Beyond the Sunrise” unleashes Rhapsody-reminiscent neoclassical licks, “Break the Silence!” allows Yuhki to discharge unhinged key theatrics, and “To the Last Breath” roars with Angrafied thunder. Sure, maybe A Cry from the Sky Above sports some warts considering the final two tracks’ excessive runtimes or a diminished adventurousness compared to earlier albums, but Galneryus also forges another satisfying platter that should please longtime fans and give newcomers a taste of the band’s enduring longevity and potency.

The Scepter // Shadows in the Tower [July 24th, 2026 – No Remorse Records]

Clocking in at a shade under half an hour,4 Canadian collective The Scepter discharged their full-length debut back in July. Around the time of Shadows in the Tower’s release, The Scepter caught a nice bit of press for playing a heavy metal show at a hospital for a patient unable to see any. And while they deserve credit for headlining such a great cause, this is no sympathy plug—The Scepter strikes hard and trve. “Riding Out” kicks off the album with self-assured swagger and BIG Maiden Energy (BME), where the main riff echoes “Aces High” to thrilling effect. Meanwhile, “Where Art Thou” doubles down on BME with calls to “Losfer Words (Big ‘Orra)” and “The Duelists.” Despite the obvious Powerslave influence, though, Shadows in the Tower does plenty to separate itself from simply being a clone. The Scepter also reminds me of Fili Bibiano’s Fortress and fellow hosers Ültra Raptör, balancing glossy guitar work with chest-thumping choruses. The production sports retro grit without feeling dated, the snappy solos flash with blitzkrieg brevity, and the ending dyad of “Taarakian Blood” and “Shadows in the Tower” blaze with anthemic glory and are worth the price of admission alone. Now go, step into the Shadows in the Tower and activate your pleasure reScepters.

Show 4 footnotes

1. With notable exceptions. ↩
2. Their ability to penetrate Steel remains… woefully undetermined. ↩
3. “Carrie,” specifically. ↩
4. Less the thrashy Journey cover, which is a pretty fun bonus track. ↩

Elden Skjold i Elwynn

https://clip.place/w/8Ygh3z9VW4NH4cXmBGHSyS

🔥 NEW INTERVIEW 🔥

Chaotic Norwegian grindcore mastery! 🇳🇴💥

We sat down with Anders to talk extremity, chaos, and staying true to the underground. Dive into the madness with our brand-new interview with Beaten to Death!

👉 Read it here: https://roughtimes.net/interviews/beaten-to-death-chaotic-grindcore-mastery-norway-grindcore-interview-with-anders

#BeatenToDeath #Grindcore #NorwegianMetal #ExtremeMusic #UndergroundMetal #DIYMusic #RoughTimes

Nihil Admiral – The Axes, the Flesh Hooks and the Spits Review

Veiled in mystique, Nihil Admiral proves elusive as details about them dance outside my reach. Lacki…
#NewsBeep #News #Music #2.0 #2026 #Aug26 #BlackMetal #CA #Canada #Corroder #Darkthrone #Entertainment #GameofThrones #GoattheHead #Hellripper #Misotheist #NihilAdmiral #NorwegianMetal #Paysaged'Hiver #RaminDjawadi #RawBlackMetal #Rekviem #review #reviews #Satyricon #TheAxestheFleshHooksandtheSpits
https://www.newsbeep.com/ca/894495/

https://www.europesays.com/ie/686793/ Nihil Admiral – The Axes, the Flesh Hooks and the Spits Review #20 #2026 #Aug26 #BlackMetal #Corroder #Darkthrone #Éire #Entertainment #GameOfThrones #GoatTheHead #Hellripper #IE #Ireland #Misotheist #Music #NihilAdmiral #NorwegianMetal #PaysageD'Hiver #RaminDjawadi #RawBlackMetal #Rekviem #Review #Reviews #Satyricon #TheAxesTheFleshHooksAndTheSpits

Veiled in mystique, Nihil Admiral proves elusive as details about them dance outside my reach. Lacking a traditional landing page on socials or the Archives,1 I’m forced to draw conclusions and inferences without the comfort of cross-reference materials I usually take for granted. I’m not flying completely blind, though, as Nihil Admiral’s promo materials mention that this Trondheim, Norway troupe features members from Misotheist, Corroder, Goat the Head, and others. While no specific band members are mentioned in the press kit, the Bandcamp page for single “Life’s Lower Phase” offers a few names, though it’s unclear whether they’re all full-time members of Nihil Admiral’s debut. Regardless, involvement doesn’t necessarily beget quality, so let’s dive in and test how sharp The Axes, the Flesh Hooks and the Spits really are.

From the gritty production to the grainy, snowbound album art, The Axes could only be raw black metal. And as you might expect from a name like Nihil Admiral, the atmosphere is rife with lawlessness and wiolence. Given the raw aesthetic the band perpetuates, Nihil Admiral recalls early Darkthrone and Satyricon seen through the lens of Paysage d’Hiver. Misotheist supplies another suitable reference point, as The Axes’ furiously driving compositions remind me of the most aggressive moments in Misotheist’s discography, even if Nihil Admiral’s song lengths better map to crossover thrash. Given the high regard these inspirations engender, it should be no surprise that from moment to moment Nihil Admiral delivers wonderfully wicked black metal.

Rime-ridden, icy fury whips at each track on The Axes, defining the black metal onslaught permeating Nihil Admiral’s debut. Rabid tremolos fill scant runtimes along with manic blast beats and coarse, deathly roars (“The Axes, the Flesh Hooks, and the Spits”), which submit a welcome contrast against the requisite blackened rasps.2 Nearly every track launches its assault with frenzied riffs and an ugly barrage of snare ‘n’ kick abuse, and Nihil Admiral does it convincingly. “Stare” begins with a thrashy lick guaranteed to get heads banging while a scorching guitar gallops past with Hellrippering speed and riffcraft. Conversely, penultimate track “Southern Cross” enters with a slower, synth-forward build before loosing the tempestuous fury Nihil Admiral commands so well. Over eight lean tracks, The Axes, the Flesh Hooks and the Spits slash and skewer with keen edges.

However, despite the murderous precision of Nihil Admiral’s instruments, The Axes leaves more impression than impact. The band sounds properly pissed off, but I struggle to remember any of The Axes’ songs besides the back half of “The Eye of Logic,” and that’s only because of its similarity to Ramin Djawadi’s Game of Thrones title sequence. Otherwise, The Axes, the Flesh Hooks and the Spits’ meager runtime passes by in a scathing yet fleeting flurry. And speaking of the runtime, Nihil Admiral’s twenty-five minutes aren’t enough to satisfy. I usually applaud a less-is-moar approach, but given that The Axes doesn’t do enough to develop their arrangements, such a concise runtime suggests a lack of ideas that would have been better off marinating rather than serving half-baked. Closing track “Its Own Beyond” provides an apt example, where horns subtlety support guitar trems as they blur into an exciting mixture before the song just… ends. Potential abounds, and refining the songwriting to intentionally mold tension would have gone a long way towards delivering a more effective conclusion to The Axes, and applied across the album would have manifested a better experience altogether.

Though I’m left disappointed by Nihil Admiral’s debut, I’m excited by their potential. Captivating second-wave worship lives here, with glimmers of originality shimmering through the cracks. Unfortunately, the album is held back by an abrupt duration that doesn’t allow tracks to mature into their best possible forms. The Axes, the Flesh Hooks and the Spits doesn’t shy away from remorseless music subscribed to nihilism, but neither do these deadly implements hook me with their blackened burs. Even though The Axes miss their mark, with more deliberate songwriting I’m confident that next time Nihil Admiral wrests the reins of chaos, they can seize listeners with an experience worthy of their rank.

Rating: Disappointing
DR: 10 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Rekviem
Websites: Bandcamp3
Releases Worldwide: August 14th, 2026

https://www.europesays.com/uk/1193783/ Sworn – Null Crowned the Infinite Review #2026 #35 #AtmosphericBlackMetal #BlackMetal #Entertainment #MelodicBlackMetal #music #NorwegianMetal #NullCrownedTheInfinite #Review #Reviews #SelfReleased #Sep26 #Sworn #UK #UnitedKingdom #Vorga #Walg

At the end of his TYMHM for Sworn’s A Journey Told Through Fire, Carcharodon proclaimed it the best record in the band’s twenty-year career. He also worried, considering their history of long gaps between releases, that it might take another five-plus years to release the next one. Well, Sworn alleviates any such fears with the release of album number five, Null Crowned the Infinite, only three years later. Now that our finned writer has taken a non-conspicuous break, he can enjoy the luxury of complaining about how much of an over/underrating bastard I am. As Carcharodon pointed out, A Journey Told Through Fire was an enthralling piece of melodic atmoblack containing a skillful blend of aggression and slow tempos. Still unsigned, Sworn continue to write the music they love and are ready to regale fans with yet another collection of their brand of Norwegian black metal.

On Null Crowned the Infinite, Sworn put on a display of melodic black metal in the vein of Vorga, blending a Walg-like aggression with slower, more atmospheric touches. At first glance, it seems as if the atmospheric stuff will win out. “The Starless Origin,” Sworn’s longest-ever composition at over 12 minutes, begins with a few minutes of ominous synths, and even when the song proper begins, it’s not until halfway through that the aggression kicks in. Though arguably too long, the tune displays some impressive riffcrafting and concludes on an incredible emotional payoff. From there, the record hits a much more furious pace. “Null Crowned the Infinite” is a bona fide banger, giving vocalist Max Wilson the opportunity to flex a melodic tint to his rasps atop the fantastic drumming and riffs. While cuts like “A Cosmic Storm” and “The Entropic Void” demonstrate more variety in pacing, “Fracture of Aeons” goes all out in a frenzied mix of speedy blast beats and melodic trems in what Sworn proclaims is their most aggressive song to date.

The performances on display reveal musicians at the peak of their skill and creativity. Behind the kit, Tom Klungland delivers a dose of unfettered energy, yet he goes beyond the typical black metal blast beat. His mid-tempo work highlights the suspense that builds on tracks like “The Starless Origin” and “A Cosmic Storm,” and he proves particularly acrobatic in the early goings of “The Entropic Void.” Christoffer Kjørsvik and Goran Hope’s guitars also provide ample jaw-dropping moments. That melodic lead on “Null Crowned the Infinite” is sublime, but tremolos aren’t the only trick they pull. That same song also highlights their ability to drop some plaintive acoustics, while arpeggios on “A Cosmic Storm” amp up the raw emotion on display. They also whip out elaborate solos that add an element of power metal and provide bursts of energy. The ever-potent Wilson delivers blackened growls that lend an icy harshness. He adds an edge to the (usually) more upbeat instrumental compositions while keeping in line with the high energy.

The one area Sworn struggle with, at least on Null Crowned the Infinite, is closure. It often feels as if Sworn are unsure of when, or how, to end their lengthy compositions. While the tracks on A Journey Told Through Fire contained some emotional payoffs in their closing moments, the same impact isn’t felt here as consistently. “Null Crowned the Infinite” misses an opportunity to end on the high note of an incredible solo when it instead adds another minute of repetitive riffs and blast beats. Similarly, “Fracture of Aeons” and “The Entropic Void” do a great job of building up towards a potentially powerful emotional climax, yet get stuck and never quite break out into the needed payoff. This isn’t just a problem for conclusions, either—”A Cosmic Storm” spends way too much time on its intro, and a few other mid-portion moments stall out as well. On the flip side, “Circle of the Eternal” proves that Sworn still know how to wield instrumental segments to great effect, ending the record on a high note thanks to a mixture of triumphant solos and catchy melodic trems.

So is Null Crowned the Infinite an improvement over A Journey Told Through Fire? Not quite, but it’s close. As a whole, the latter remains the superior record, but some individual moments on this one upstage individual songs on the prior. Despite its dark tones, the album feels like a triumph, the work of confident musicians who have hit their stride. Sworn have truly blossomed late in their career and have proven themselves a black metal band to keep on your radar. The momentum built in the final minutes left me breathless and wanting an encore as soon as humanly possible.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Self-Released
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Site
Releases Worldwide: September 4th, 2026

The time has finally arrived for the conclusion of Green Carnation’s epic A Dark Poem. If you’ve been following this journey, the band released the dark, brooding A Dark Poem Part I: The Shores of Melancholia last year to set the stage. Like The Matrix movies, this record works fine on its own, introducing a dark and chaotic side to the band. It was an exciting listen because, unlike previous Green Carnation records, The Shores of Melancholia was surprisingly one-sided instead of the band’s typical roundness. Which meant one of two things: either this trilogy would represent a much harsher version of the band, or we haven’t heard shit yet.

When A Dark Poem Part II: Sanguis dropped earlier this year, I was floored. Unlike The Matrix movies, Sanguis proved superior to its predecessor. But, as a pair, the experience is pure bliss. Out of the dark world of Melancholia came an album of hopelessness and severe depression. It’ll make you cry at one point, and scream at the skies at another. It also includes some of the best songwriting in Green Carnation’s thirty-six-year existence. So, how in the unholy hell can you fit in a finale? And even if you did, what would that sound like? I present to you the shocking A Dark Poem Part III: The Messiah Complex.

After all the ups-and-downs, intensity, emotion, and passion, The Messiah Complex arrives in a tight little package, consisting of a mere four songs with a thirty-eight-minute runtime. Which makes me realize how perfectly balanced these three records are because, when added up, they hover just below two hours of music. Of the three records, this new one feels the most progressive, and that progressiveness intensifies with each track. “Unconditional Artificial Chemistry” is an exceptional opener, delivering a pleasurable mid-paced groove, massive bass poppin’, and a classic Green Carnation chorus. It has Nordhus’ addictive melodic vocals, soothing guitar leads, and also some impressive key work.

The title track is the best on the record, but that’s silly to say when all four tracks are top-tier. But the combination of acoustic pluckings and hypnotic strummings puts us in the realm of Acoustic Verses. That’s before the head-bobbing chug takes over and gets this thing rockin’. At the midway point, we arrive at the calm before the storm. Then, the track really moves, climbing and roaring and soaring to its heavy conclusion. One of the cooler aspects of this song is the lead vocals by Green Carnation overload, Stein Sordal. “Broken Souls, Common Enemies” follows “The Messiah Complex” seamlessly, dropping some old-school progginess over a gorgeous chorus, nifty guitar leads, harpsichord action, and vicious rasps. After a gentle lull with acoustic guitars and flute, the song is flung up to a stratosphere over layered vocals, a sweeping atmosphere, and a stellar conclusion.

But the closing number, “A Dark Poem – Orchestral Suite,” is like nothing I’ve ever heard before. Executed by the Kristiansand Symphony Orchestra and Opera Choir, this nearly seventeen-minute song sees no distortion, no rumbling bass, and no vocals. Outside of the songwriting, you actually won’t hear a single peep from the band. It might be the most ambitious thing I have ever heard. By no means an expert in classical music, I can clearly hear Vivaldi inspiration here, with waves of strings, horns, woodwinds, and percussion that collide at the end in a massive conclusion. There’s no way I can describe it. It’s something one must hear. And it somehow is the perfect ending to this Ophelia-inspired epic.

At the end of this mighty journey, Sanguis still captivates me the most. It’s pure sex to my ears. But A Dark Poem Part III: The Messiah Complex is truly special. While many will talk about the closer more than any other track, Green Carnation saved some of their best material for last. The heavier tracks flow so well that you come to realize that they are just as classical as the orchestral piece. Reviewing this trilogy has been one of the highlights of my AMG career, and I can’t wait for you all to hear it.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Season of Mist
Websites: greencarnationsom.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/greencarnationnorway
Releases Worldwide: September 4th, 2026

Fun fact for fans of AMG lore: I originally found this very metal blog back in early 2010 while searching for reviews of Audrey Horne’s self-titled third album. I auditioned for a writing job, and my first review posted a mere month later. Since then, I’ve reviewed all the Audrey Horne releases, and I admit to being a big fanboy of their retro-leaning hard rock style. At their best, they craft irresistibly fun, punchy anthems, and even at their worst, the music is still pretty damn entertaining, and it never ceases to amuse me that the band features Ice Dale of Enslaved and I fame. 2022s Devil’s Bell had big moments, but felt a bit flat compared to prior platters like Youngblood and Pure Heavy. Now comes 8th album, Achilles, and it’s everything you expect from the band. There’s a strong focus on hooks and replay factor while keeping that 70s rock vibe intact. But can they get the wheels back on the Hornemobile for another monster of a rock album?

The opening title track kicks the party off with a hard-charging attack. Charismatic frontman Toschie leads you on a rowdy ride backed by galloping, churning riffs and a thumping bass rumble, and it’s exactly what I want from Audrey Horne. Then things get moody and introspective with a thick 70s prog rock vibe. Soon it steers back into rocked-out festivities with dominating guitar lines and a kinda sorta Iron Maiden vibe. It’s a cool trip. “In the Eye of a Hurricane” is the perfect Audrey Horne song with a raucous, uncouth vibe and a huge chorus designed to destabilize stadiums. There are even vague traces of Survivor’s “Eye of the Tiger” hidden under the surface. “Vampires” is another win, simple and uber cool, a rock song that gets under your skin on first listen and never lets go. I’ve had this one on replay an obscene amount, and I can’t get enough of it. In a just world, “God Damn Beautiful” would be a huge hit for the band and garner heavy radio play since it’s a dangerously infectious earworm monster. It features bassist Espen Lien on vocals instead of Toschie, though you may not notice at first. He does a bang-up job selling the song, and The Night Flight Orchestra will bitterly wish they wrote this one.

Despite this killer start, Achilles can’t maintain the same level of awesome sauce, and the back half is less memorable. While “Insanity” is pure rock fury and “Hell is Eternity” is like a drunken Iron Maiden doing a rock song, other cuts like “Six Feet in the Ground,” “Running Through the Night,” and closer “New Star Falling” are just okay. They’re pleasant enough, but they don’t hit anywhere near as hard as the better tracks, and at times they’re overly similar to the recent material from The Night Flight Orchestra. There’s an uneventful interlude included as well, and it seems to serve no particular purpose. This makes Achilles very front-loaded, as you get the best 5 cuts within the first 7 tracks. However, at a tight 44 minutes with all cuts in the 3-5 minute frame, it’s a pretty easy, breezy spin.

I’ve been a big fan of Toschie’s vocals and overall frontman persona since I discovered Audrey Horne. He’s one of the best hard rock vocalists out there, and he brings a lot ot personality and gravitas to the material. He’s in great form here, delivering his usual sleazy, ne’er-do-well vocals in a way that feels like he’s about to do something illegal. He’s buoyed by the high-flying leads from Ice Dale and Thomas Tofthagen (ex-Sahg) as they draw inspiration from classic rock acts like AC/DC, Thin Lizzy, and Led Zeppelin, but also rock very Maiden-esque harmonies when things kick into high gear. Behind them, the big bass presence from Espen Lien is counterpointed by rock-solid kit work from Kjetil Greve. Audrey Horne have been around the block and play the kind of music they love, and it shows, even when the writing isn’t consistently great.

Achilles is a bit better than Devil’s Bell. It has big moments and memorable romps, but it has a few lower-tier nuggets that drag it down a notch or two. I may want another album as strong as Youngblood, but I’ll settle for releases like this because Audrey Horne are so damn fun and the perfect soundtrack for summer beer chuggery. You like fun, right? Does anyone remember laughter? Ah, fuck you all, I’m getting drunk.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: NA | Format Reviewed: FUCKING STREAM
Label: Napalm
Websites: audrey-horne.bandcamp.com/album/achilles | facebook.com/audreyhorneofficial | instagram.com/audreyhorneofficial/?hl=en
Releases Worldwide: September 4th, 2026

A little over a year ago, my dear friend and roommate visited her home country of Norway for a month. Obviously, I insisted that she visit Neseblod Records, the infamous record store originally opened by Euronymous (as Helvete) back in the 90s, located in Oslo. While she was there, frightened by its certainly haunted basement section, she found physical copies of both The Road Less Traveled and The Heart of the Matter, Norwegian heavy/power metal troupe Triosphere’s prior two albums—and bought them for me at my enthusiastic request. Both of these records hold a special place in my catalog, memorializing an accidental discovery of what would quickly become one of my favorite power metal discographies ever, small though it is. 12 years since the release of The Heart of the Matter, which slots at #1 on my personal list of favorite power metal albums, I feared that nothing would be able to fill its shoes, even if it was penned by Triosphere themselves. In fact, I feared I would never hear another record like it in my lifetime. Mercifully, Oceans Above, Stars Below is soon upon us, and I couldn’t be happier with it.

Occupying a nifty space where Heart meets Symphony X and taking a few notes from Nevermore, Triosphere’s current sound feels like a significant evolution of what The Heart of the Matter offered, fortified by the same gutsy crunch The Road Less Traveled boasted. Ida Haukland, a criminally undersung power metal icon if there ever was one, delivers a fierce vocal performance here that blows her own past work out of the water. Simultaneously, she delivers lots of low-end bass beef behind T.O. Byberg’s hefty riffs and Marius Silver Bergesen’s screaming leads and inspired solos. Not to be outdone, drummer Kenneth Tårneby outputs a level of percussive ass-kickery hitherto unheard as his reliably excellent cymbal work somehow levels up again and his rhythmic muscularity reaches new PRs. This is a band at their pinnacle, supporting a sound that nobody else currently in the scene replicates, releasing an album of romantically inclined inspirations, soulful exuberance, and an execution so vibrant that it makes my heart and soul soar into the stratosphere.

The best part is that I don’t have to wait long before that skyborne launch sends me alight, and at no point does Oceans Above, Stars Below let me down. First track proper, “Of Tyrants,” is a massive triumph, replete with heavy riffs and a chorus that short-circuits my whole nervous system every time as Ida belts high notes with a brassy fullness no other vocalist in this category approaches. From that point, banger after banger fires out of Triosphere’s chamber. “Oceans Above, Stars Below,” “Monster’s Ball,” and “Through the Phantom Wall” in particular burn barns down to cinders with high-octane lead melodies, effervescent vocal lines, and satisfying chuggy crunches. Mid-album stingers “Lightning in a Bottle,” “Shorelines,” and “Embers” bring more upbeat verve and heart to the affair, while also reintroducing Marius’ trademark bluesy solos that bleed with an emotive quality few guitarists in this scene achieve. The hits keep coming, with closing duo “Orpheus’ Bane” and “Cadence of Chaos” pushing the limits of what I expect from Triosphere’s sound. In the former example, Nevermore’s influence is felt in its chromatic, staccato riffing and full-bodied tones, while the latter offers a tempo switch-up between verse and chorus that abnormally activates my salivatory glands like only the best prog-power writing can.

Memorable, immediate, and sticky, Oceans Above, Stars Below is more than just a collection of great songs. It transcends the standards set by the heavy/prog/power blueprint. Through the use of melodies that would feel at home on any 80s album, metal or otherwise, Triosphere nail the nostalgia that tugs the ears of those who pine for the ways of olde. With their soulful soloing, powerful vocal payloads, and tight transitions, Triosphere exude theatricality that attracts folks drawn to epic cinematics and righteous pyrotechnics. Clever layering and deceptively sophisticated complexities woven into familiar frameworks permit accessible entry points for audiences scouting for intelligent writing and extended staying power. Even the central ballad “Encore” and closer “Gjenklang,” a cello/violin-led instrumental reprisal finale, offer compelling contributions to the whole that those who crave music that touches the heart will surely appreciate.

Oceans Above, Stars Below has more than just something for everyone. If enough people listen and take notes, as they should, it possesses the power to shift the scene, to move the needle. Even if it somehow fails at that, it’s more than I could’ve asked for from one of the most anticipated follow-ups in my rotation. I was sure 12 years was too long to wait, and that nothing Triosphere offered would make me fall in love with them all over again. I was wrong, and I’ve never been happier to be wrong. An album this excellent, this passionately performed, this finely honed, deserves a universal audience. Forget the trappings of genre or category. Oceans Above, Stars Below is a record I’ll be recommending to anyone and everyone. It is the embodiment of everything I love about music, heavy or otherwise. By sharing it, I share a piece of my bleeding heart that Triosphere somehow captured in vivid detail. Thank you, Triosphere, for this gift. I will cherish it forever!

Rating: Iconic!1
DR: N/A | Format Reviewed: Stream HELL2
Label: Frontiers Records
Websites: Official | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: August 28th, 2026

Considering I was hired 3000 years ago by the Almighty AMG Himself to be the “power metal guy,” I sure do end up reviewing a lot of moldy death metal. Toss Norway’s Horrifier on the rotpit next as I tackle their sophomore slab of purulence, Revelations of Gore. With cover art straight from the early 90s, Horrifier regale you with tales of body horror, serial killings, and unlawful graveyard carnal knowledge. Their core sound measures in at 79.5% Autopsy worship, with 12.3% Obituary and 8.2% early Pestilence influence. That means you get hammered with old school, cesspool-ready shitfun with a heavy emphasis on scuzz, crust, and scabs. Is it newfangled? Fuck no. Is it going to stain your carpet and leave a lasting stench? Absofuckinglutely! Let’s see what’s behind the gore.

After an appropriately creepy intro, Horrifer get medieval on your ass with “Compelled to Slaughter” as evil, ominous riffs and a skronky bass set the coroner’s table for you. It’s very much in the vein of early Autopsy and Adrian Risøy’s disgusting and disturbing vocals are a dead ringer for the legendary Chris Reifert. It’s a big intestine sandwich that leaps from d-beating to slow, doomy segments, and it sounds as infectious as an Ebola ward. You’ll want a shower after to disinfect, and that’s the sign of effective death. “Human Butchery” keeps the rancid times rolling, and I swear this one could have appeared on any of the first 4 Autopsy albums. Go ahead and deny that the piece starting at 3:50 wasn’t ripped directly from Chris Reifert’s diseased brain. You can’t. It’s entertaining without reinventing any wheels, and the band’s commitment to excess and a horrific atmosphere is to be commended. When this formula clicks, it works quite well. “Body Hoarder” is an especially fun bit of unhinged death with plenty of textures and moods splattering the walls. Parts even remind me of Leprosy-era Death.

Unfortunately, the writing is a bit inconsistent as the album grinds along, with some songs feeling less essential than others. “Rejoice, Children of the Flesh” reminds me of the loopy but lovable days of early Carnivore where they lurched between thrash and bombastic doom willy-nilly, and the tempo changes don’t always work in their favor as segments drag on too long. I do love that fat, clanging N.M.E.-styled bass though! “Morbid Lust” is aggressive and angry but feels fairly generic, and it also runs past its expiration date and meanders weirdly. “The Final Oblation” is even longer and feels more bloated and overstuffed, despite cool moments. Revelations of Gore does finish strong with longest track, “Blood for Ascension,” however. It puts a vaguely Voivodian spin on a ragged d-beat and makes everything feel jarring, unsteady, and exciting. The classic Autopsy asswax and maggot garden vibe is present, but with a strange new edge. There’s even a massive doom segment that feels like classic Saint Vitus, so that’s pure Steel bait. At 38 minutes, I hesitate to say Revelations of Gore feels longer than that, but it does drag at times. The production is masterful for a caveman death slab such as this. The guitars have force, the bass is fully unleashed and everything feels dangerous and murky as fook. Kudos!

Adrian Risøy and Sander Halvorsen do a very respectable job pummeling and abrading with nasty, corrosive riffs and horror movie harmonies. They hurt when they must, and torture when they like, and there’s a creepy, unsettling vibe that flashes through the material. Erik Krokan’s bass is large, in charge, and right in your face. It thumps, twangs, and bangs all over the place and adds a delicious layer of low-end extremity. Risøy is a great death croaker and brings a repulsive and inhuman stink to the coffin orgy. He’s the kind of vocalist this style of death needs, and boy does he go all in. Last but certainly not least, Andreas Langås lays the lumber hard and mean, shifting from bedragled doom trots to d-beat gallops and straight-up blastbeatery.

Horrifier live in death metal’s infamous past and evince no sign of evolutionary tendencies. Revelations of Gore could have dropped in 1990 and been a genre touchstone. Since it drops in 2026 instead, it’s entirely olde but still well worth a trip down its greasy gutslide into the body fluids. I think Horriffier could do big things in the future. Until then, play this loudly as you carve a rare and bloody roast over a public toilet. Bon Appétit!

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 10 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Personal Records
Websites: horrifiermetal.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/profile.php | instagram.com/horrifier_official
Releases Worldwide: August 7th, 2026

One-man Norwegian black metal is almost a cliché—the quintessential “oh, of course it is” of black metal. As a reviewer, one-man black metal of most varieties excites me, because, as far as quality goes, you really have no idea what you’re going to get. Take Vetter, for example: active since 2005, the solo project of multi-instrumentalist Håvard Tveito (ex-Folkearth) has released two full-length albums, a couple of demos, and a split with Fyrnask last year. As far as I can tell, Tveito handles production, artwork, and every instrument save drums (credited to Nils Martin Haugfos). Now on full-length #3, Sort var Bogen der Bragte Os Hid, Vetter is creeping its way out of the Norwegian underground. But doing “everything except drums” is a lot to ask of one person. How does Tveito manage this time?

How you feel about that and how you feel about lo-fi production may well be the same—that’s the first thing to notice about Sort var Bogen der Bragte Os Hid. As soon as you press play, hazy riffs, muted drumming, and hoarse growls welcome you to Vetter’s world, so much so that the bass actually becomes the primary driver of melody on “Messefald.” There’s a strong early Ulver feel to the work, with heavy emphasis on atmospheric riffs and breaks for clear acoustic guitars. In its heavier moments, it reminds me of October Falls; the lead riff on “Sort var Bogen” wouldn’t be so out of place on The Womb of Primordial Nature. Occasionally there are breaks for clean singing too, used primarily in the form of archaic-sounding chants. It’s a good recipe for a historically inspired album, ripe with natural, ritualistic imagery and a very traditional approach to the craft.

Generally speaking, organic and melodic are two things Vetter do well on Sort var Bogen der Bragte Os Hid, and the more it leans into being a folk album, the more I like it. “Under Sorte Øine” blends melodic, atmospheric riffs with melodic chanting and vocal effects to build an almost symphonic black metal sound, one that feels organic, if not quite fresh. “Aff Blod oc Bly” is, unexpectedly, a fully folk interlude, and one that offers a good balance and much-appreciated break from the metal. Ignoring its very abrupt fade-out, “Messefald” is a great song, with a memorable melody and an appreciably menacing vocal performance from Tveito. Throughout Sort var Bogen der Bragte Os Hid, Vetter is able to blend atmospheric black metal with modern-sounding folk and melodic influences under a retro umbrella that somehow holds it all together remarkably well.

It feels weird to critique the production on an album that is intentionally low-fi, but one thing that does hold back my enjoyment of Sort var Bogen der Bragte Os Hid is a production issue. When I first read that Tveito handled all instruments except for drums, I assumed he used a drum machine. Truthfully, I only just learned that he didn’t—the drums so lack impact that I had no trouble believing they weren’t real. Similarly, the use of bass as an occasional melodic assistant—certainly a cool choice in the places it works—occasionally removes some bottom end that could give the music more heft than it has. As is, Vetter feels restrained throughout Sort var Bogen der Bragte Os Hid in too many respects—the hoarse growls are fine, the hazy guitars are fine, the muted drumming is fine, and the bass sound is fine, but all together it becomes a little too easy for Sort var Bogen der Bragte Os Hid to fade to background noise by its back half.

And that’s a shame, because I really like what Vetter has done with Sort var Bogen der Bragte Os Hid. Tveito’s music is simultaneously vague and interesting, focused and expansive. The way he blends melodic, atmospheric, and traditional black metal elements is a great asset to his music and an impressive statement to his songwriting. In this case, however, it is held back a bit too much by its presentation. I understand these choices are intentional—but I would personally have preferred a different approach. I’d recommend a listen anyway, though, as, when it does work, it works very well.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Rekviem
Website: facebook.com/vetterkult
Releases Worldwide: August 14th, 2026

Sinsid – All That Remains Review

In 2012, lead vocalist Terje Singh Sidhu got together with a rag-tag group of musicians to form some…
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https://www.newsbeep.com/au/825525/

In 2012, lead vocalist Terje Singh Sidhu got together with a rag-tag group of musicians to form some ’80s heavy metal worship called Sinsid. From Rogaland, on the western coast of Norway, this quintet has now written four full-length records, beginning with 2018’s Mission from Hell. Classic heavy metal is a crowded field, no doubt sparked by nostalgia for the brilliance of some of the foundational stuff written by Iron Maiden, Judas Priest, and Blind Guardian, to name just a few. It’s the genre that allows one to write the sort of catchy guitar hooks and anthemic vocal choruses that can sprout hair on your chest. But it’s also easy for bands to slip through the cracks if they’re not able to elevate themselves above the pack. Let’s see how Sinsid stacks up on their latest LP, All That Remains.

Sinsid has composed a collection of catchy mid-tempo tunes that do their best to summon early Judas Priest, Blind Guardian, and Accept. From classic-sounding opening riffs to galloping blast beats and catchy choruses, Sinsid have not only done their homework regarding their influences, but have crafted some worthy tunes that sound great to boot. The energetic “Sarcophagus” recalls a thrashier time in Judas Priest’s timeline, while the ample use of backup vocalists hark back to the Blind Guardian of a twilight world, particularly on the catchy “Pioneers” and inspired closer, “Lords of the Northern Land.” There’s even a touch of Sabaton on “Azad Hind,” a rollicking bit of history about a fighting force that sought to “liberate India from the British Empire.”1 Sidhu serves as the heart of the music, with a vocal performance reminiscent of a much huskier Mark Tornillo (Accept). While he’s not a technically proficient singer, doing more shouting than actual singing, he provides grit and shows a real passion for the music.

Some solid mixing on All That Remains elevates the material by allowing the instruments room to shine. Often the measuring stick for solid production values is the presence of bass, and Grzegorz Urbański’s fretwork is an omnipresent beast, serving as an important backbone throughout the record. The guitars from Jostein Marø and Erik Westerlund also sound crisp and clear, even when the riffs could use a kick in the pants now and then. The two make the most of their talent on the standout tracks like “Sarcophagus” and the brief solos they’re allotted per song, including one that’s quite good on “The Horror (I Know).” The vocal approach is the true heart and soul of the music. The mix gives Sidhu’s voice prominence, to the point that he almost sounds like a different vocalist compared to 2022’s In Victory. He’s louder here, though not always in a bad way. Sinsid also give prominence to the many backup vocalists who participate, and this turns out to be a wise choice. The use of backup vocals goes a long way in amping up the music and providing a sense of brotherhood that I think serves as Sinsid’s truest identity.

While mostly consistent in level of quality content, All That Remains does suffer a few dips here and there as well as some struggles with originality. Sinsid’s largest blunder is opening the record with “All That Remains,” a bit of a downer thematically, as Sidhu sings about “humanity betrayed.” Outside of that, the track’s also not particularly energetic, and it highlights Sinsid’s penchant for too much repetition. Sinsid also make a few choices down the stretch that make their love for their influences a little too obvious. “Breaking All the Rules” has a title and chorus that are a bit too on the nose for Judas Priest’s “Breaking the Law,” while the chorus to “Lawless Hunter” (“You better run for cover”) feels like a lesser version of “Run to the Hills.” Don’t get me wrong, these are quality songs; they just unwisely invite comparisons to better ones.

So Sinsid may not have quite separated themselves from their influences or the myriad other classic heavy metal bands, but they have at least created an enjoyable record. It’s a challenging genre to stand out in, saturated as it is and full of a rich history of some of the best bands the metal genre has to offer. All That Remains proves that Sinsid can write a fun lick or two, and sometimes that’s all you need to have a good time.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Pitch Black Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: July 10th, 2026

Now here’s a band with pedigree! Norway’s black metal squad Mortem have been around since 1987, right at the forefront of the infamous second wave. Though their heyday produced only the Slow Death demo and their debut record, Ravnsvart, took until 2019 to release, their individual band members have kept themselves busy. Consisting of guitarist/keyboardist Steinar Sverd Johnsen, vocalist Marius Vold, drummer Jan “Hellhammer” Blomberg, and newcomer bassist Tor Stavenes, Mortem’s genealogy traces lines through the likes of Mayhem, Arcturus, Thorns, 1349, Emperor, and way too many other bands. Now, almost forty years since their inception, Mortem are unleashing their sophomore album Mørketid, promising in their promo “eight tracks of savage, eerie, and often epic black metal.” Will Mortem’s collective experience translate to top-shelf black metal, or will Mørketid’s time under the sun be short-lived?

“Mørketid” is the Norwegian word for polar night, where the sun stays below the horizon for weeks during the winter months. It’s an eerie time that Mortem capture well on Mørketid. Between the persistent tremolos and rasps across Mørketid, an unsettling and understated melody gives the project an uncanny feel. Mortem’s keyboard presence does a lot for Mørketid’s texture, bestowing a creepy music box melody to “Aftermath” and a beefy Dimmu Borgir symphonic gothicness to “Ditt Ødes Ære.” But overall, if you’ve heard Mayhem’s early stuff, you know what to expect from Mortem. Buzzsaw guitars, phlegmy rasps, and drawn-out staggering through the dark are the name of the game here, highlighted on songs like “The Mighty Odious” and “Mørkets Ormebol.” Mortem have been around long enough to get these fundamentals down pat.

Though Mortem clearly put in the work, there are yet few standout performances on Mørketid. Outside of some surprisingly shreddy solos across Mørketid’s back end (“Den Sanne Gud,” “Aftermath”), Johnsen’s riffs are murky and standard-issue black metal, and while I appreciate Stavenes’ pronounced bass presence and the punchiness that comes with it (“Skyggeånd”), it nonetheless stays too firmly in the pocket. Similarly, Vold’s rasps are thick and gritty but rarely venture off from his slow-n-low mode, making his vocal presence seep into the background. Johnsen’s keyboards and Hellhammer’s drumming deserve note, however, as spidery key runs on “Mørketid” and “Mørkets Ormebol” do the heavy lifting in building mood and identity on their tracks, and shifting grooves and blasts all across Mørketid are its most varied and exciting asset. Mortem’s songwriting approach likely contributes to the muted performances: they’re hellbent for murk. But Mortem have ludicrous talent in their ranks, and I think a few more standout moments would’ve easily elevated Mørketid.

And therein lies Mørketid’s biggest issue: memorability. Besides “Blodvassen Grunn,” where Mortem open the blinds a smidge for a touch of lightness in their style, Mørketid is monotonously dark. Over-repetition plagues many of Mørketid’s tracks, watering down the vitality of songs like “Mørkets Ormebol” and “Skyggeånd” while inflating Mørketid’s runtime. None of Mortem’s songs are extraordinarily long, sitting around four to six minutes on average, but I often found myself checking the time halfway through each song anyway. Production owns some of the blame here; though everything’s clearly audible, everything sounds crushed and undynamic, wearing on both the ears and mind. There are times when Mortem flirt with variety, like the darkly groovy second half of “Aftermath” and the time “Den Sanne Gud” gets quiet and threatens to veer into an Iron Maiden epic,1 but these are few and far between on Mørketid. I don’t think I can give high marks to something I can’t remember after many listens.

It’s crazy to think that a band whose line-up is as storied as Mortem’s could struggle with a sophomore slump this far into their career, but here we are. Mørketid isn’t a bad record, but one that’s played too safely to truly stand out. Production issues and monotonous songwriting knock it down a notch further. Mortem occupy a space in metal’s history where a subpar record isn’t going to blemish their legacy. They were instrumental in founding one of its most iconic sub-genres. But Mørketid wasn’t released in 1987, and so has to stand up against the scores of other black metal releases from the decades since then. Sadly, it doesn’t.

Rating: Disappointing
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps MP3
Label: Peaceville Records
Websites: facebook.com/mortemnorway | bandcamp.com/album/morketid
Releases Worldwide: July 3rd, 2026

For those who abhor the second-wave of black metal and its worship,1 Mork’s Monolitt may not be your cup of iced tea. Frosty tremolos, glacial chugs, and biting rasps lurk within, offering a welcome blast of northern darkness as I stare down the barrel of another sweltering Atlanta summer. Established in 2004, Thomas Eriksen’s Mork has been dispensing rime and punishment since debut Isebakke dropped in 2013. Now thirteen years on, Mork unveils eighth slab Monolitt, which radiates icy, blackened ire. As is customary, Eriksen supplies the lion’s share of sounds, though Asgeir Mickelson (ex-Borknagar, ex-Ihsahn) plies the drums while Øyvind Kaslegard (Svart Lotus) contributes additional vocals. Monolitt translates to ‘Monolith’ in English, and though it provides wonderful imagery and is immediately evocative, the name also sells a promise. Can Mork’s Monolitt deliver by embodying a towering manifestation of second-wave mayhem, or will it get buried beneath the permafrost?

Mork’s discography evolves with each release while maintaining a consistency of high-caliber craftsmanship that listeners can rely upon. Early Mork material embraced rawer production featuring buzz-sawing guitars and lo-fi fuzz, and though it blankets those albums in textureless uniformity, interesting ideas and riffs gleam through the static. Over time, Eriksen has refined his approach, finding ways to subtly experiment within the confines of second-wave black metal. In this way, Mork reminds me of Mayhem and Thron, continuously pushing the boundaries of their soundscape to expand their grasp of the genre. To me, 2024’s Syv acts as Mork’s most exploratory album to date, demonstrated by their foray into broader instrumentation as well as the beautiful acoustic and clean-sung finale, “Omme.” Monolitt, on the other hand, recenters the band squarely in second-wave territory, albeit with a smattering of Syv’s less conventional elements.

Given the solid foundation Mork establishes within black metal’s most identifiable form, Monolitt proves to be a bit of a misnomer considering the wealth of diverse ideas within it. Leadoff track “Under Vekten av Verden” kicks off festivities in ferocious fashion, where Mickelson hammers the kit with clockwork rigidity, and Eriksen dispatches wicked licks and riffs that sound like they were pulled from the heart of winter itself. “Ødelagt” begins with the same fury, but by its end decelerates to a funereal crawl. Follow-up “Torden” rejuvenates the pacing with a simple yet exhilarating guitar lead and gusts of peppy drum patterns that never fail to get my head bobbing. Monolitt doesn’t hoard the goodies on the front end, though, as “Inn i en Annen Sfære” and “Jutul” overflow with well-crafted moments applied using a delicate touch, underpinning Mork’s growth as astute songwriters. “Inn i en Annen Sfære” sparkles like ice-capped snow, where crystalline guitars glide through bright, sustained synths as the pacing inevitably propels the song into proper blackened tremolos and Eriksen’s gruff rasp. Similarly, “Utryddelse” employs tempo and mood shifts throughout its runtime that develop riveting dynamics and remind me of Kampfar and newer Mayhem, while “Jutul” uses a dash of clean singing in addition to recalling early Gorgorth’s implementation of faint, understated melody.

The whole of Monolitt is as impressive as the sum of its parts, and on it Mork endeavors to distill their essence even further. The mixing (Børge Finstad) and mastering (Jack Control and Maor Appelbaum) highlight the music wonderfully, giving each instrument ample space and retaining an edge to the tones such that Monolitt never sounds polished or slick. I only wish that the album’s middle was as consistent as its bookends. The tracks I’ve mentioned stand out as grade-A black metal, and though the other songs are good to very good, they don’t quite live up to the heights established at the pinnacle of Monolitt.

Through eight albums, Mork utterly convinces that their creative well runs deep. Monolitt stands tall, a monument to second-wave songwriting that demonstrates further exploration of the style doesn’t have to be stale. While Syv edges Monolitt out as my favorite Mork release, it’s damn close, and more than anything else, I’m left incredibly impressed with the band’s maturation and steadfast output. It’s rare for a band putting out so much material in so short a time to maintain this level of quality, but you better believe this one’s a genuine, bona fide, electrified, nine-track Monolitt. Now say it again, and hop on board!

Rating: Very Good!
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Peaceville Records
Websites: Website | Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: June 19th, 2026

Rain has started to leak into the ducts as Spring gets wetter and wetter. While I’m away, vacationing in a nice, dry, cloudy place, my minions are drenched and miserable. As it should be! But I’m still keeping tabs on their progress. Just because I’m having a great time somewhere else doesn’t mean these louts don’t have a quota to meet!

And meet their quota they shall, if only barely… BEHOLD!

ClarkKent’s Sci-Fi Soundbites

Epigram // Obsolescent [March 6th, 2026 – Self Released]

Combining the melodic black metal of Thulcandra and Dissection with the symphonics of Fleshgod Apocalypse and SepticFlesh, Epigram dropped a tasty little morsel with their debut, Obsolescent. The trio from Los Angeles puts on a spirited performance that borders on thrash. Tim Cauley’s display on the kit is a dominant force as he furiously blast beats his way from one song to the next. He turns “Wrath of Betrayed” into a piece of blackened thrash and proves tireless across Obsolescent’s 27-minute runtime. The lively vocal performance of Luis Echevarria adds further to Epigram’s charm. His low growls may seem underpowered, but his delivery is energetic and fun. He’s also the source of the symphonic instrumentation, via synths, though this aspect is secondary. Sure, there’s some choral chants (“Myrmidon,” “The Usurper’s Throne”), strings (“Hour of Gods”), and other vaguely symphonic sounds, but Epigram is most focused on the blackened melodic stuff. Shadi Absi throws together some great riffs, particularly on “Empires,” a work of pure black ‘n roll. The showstopper is “Hour of Gods,” with some sweet riffs and terrific energy. This song alone makes Obsolescent a worthy spin. Rounding out the musicians is Sanjay Kumar (Inferi, Wormhole), who plays solos on “Wrath of Betrayed” and “No Sin.” This is a promising debut for an eager new band.

Kal-El // Astral Voyager Vol. 2 [March 20th, 2026 – Blues Funeral Recordings]

Sporting the greatest band name of all time, Kal-El have been blasting listeners with stoner doom since 2012. Astral Voyager Vol. 2 is the follow-up to last year’s Vol. 1, and these pyschedelians’s seventh album overall. It’s been seven years since Witches of Mars was unfairly pummeled by a Kryptonian frog, and now I’d like to do the band justice by rescuing them from our filter. On this astral voyage, you get the pleasure of listening to six songs and 42 minutes of laid-back stoner tunes with plenty of fuzzy riffs—perfect for cruising around the cosmos. Their riff-centric approach puts them in the Black Sabbath camp, and the riffs on the likes of “Juno” and “The Prophecy,” which has a “Children of the Grave” vibe, are tons of fun. Further cementing the Sabbath comp is the vocal performance of Ståle Rodvelt, who carries a resemblance to Ozzy in his delivery. Longer cuts take more exploratory routes, akin to Sleep, yet still feature plenty to get your head bobbin’. “Asteroid” opens up with some sweet riffs that sustain its near eight-minute frame, while “The Nine” will still have you singing along in the final of its ten minutes. 1 So if you are in the mood for something chill that won’t put you to sleep, something that has the riffs without the risk of elevating your blood pressure, you should spend some time with Kal-El.

Thus Spoke’s Tectonic Treat

Bong-Ra // Esoterik [March 20th, 2026 – Debemur Morti Productions]

Not having received promo, it was only upon visiting DM’s Bandcamp page while writing up Aversio Humanitatis that I realised Bong-Ra had released another album. Asked whether Esoterik would be leaning more into enigmatic doom or spiky industrial electronica, the shapeshifting Bong-Ra said “yes”. The music is built on layers of dense, gritty atmosphere undulating with bass, breakbeats, and distorted riffs. Vocals are maintained from Black Noise—half-spoken snarls blurred by noise, shifting between blunt tunefulness (“Serpentine Helix”) and gargling venom (“Machine Halo”)—but at least half of the space is devoted to the purely instrumental psychosis. The saxophone is back, adding bizarre elegance and chilling eeriness in equal measure. Sometimes, Esoterik seems to be pitting its sultry and acerbic natures against one another; that chamber jazz side can take one by surprise (“Pleasures of the Flesh,” “Duality of One”), sandwiched as it is between a more punishing industrialism, but Bong-Ra just about gets away with it. This could be down to Esoterik’s efficiency in establishing (new) grooves—rhythmic and stylistic. Opener “Harmony Cloak” dispels misgivings on its skittering electronic oddity with a chorus that strikes a stylish balance between melody and dissonance; “Machine Halo” later follows in its stride. It’s an album that earns its moniker, right down to the particular spelling, and is worth the dark diversion it requires.

Grin Reaper’s Kooky Curios

Surturian // II – Hessian Spears [March 13th, 2026 – Crawling Chaos]

A German thrash band named after the legendary fire giant and guardian of Muspelheim? And on their debut LP, they launch an unrelenting, venomous assault filled with sticky riffs and bopping bass grooves in under forty-five minutes? Sign me up! Surturian plays thrash that smacks of early Testament and Metallica fused with the epic melodies of latter-day Kreator—hell, vocalist Tim Krogull reeks of Mille’s rancorous vocals, even though his name hews closer to a Voivodian disposition. In addition to thrash influences, Surturian calls upon Maiden’s signature gallops (“Cimmerians Wrath”) and anthemic melodies (“⁠Night Stalker,” “Do What Thou Wilt”), inculcating a lofty grandeur throughout II – Hessian Spears. Further fanning Surturian’s flames, the outfit navigates a varied landscape that imbues each track with its own character while never straying too far from their core sound. Hard-hitting offensives (“Blood Witchery”), slinky licks (“Night Stalker”), and oddball songwriting (“Beneath a Dying Sky”2) unite into an album I’ve regularly returned to since discovering it. If you’re feeling unSurtain, take it from me—it’s always a good time for some Hessian aggression!

Barn // Crucibles [March 24th, 2026 – Self Released]

Thanks to a certain dude/guy in the comments section, Crucibles didn’t slip past me undetected. Despite their dubious band name, Barn dropped a humdinger slab of tech death back in March that oozes with references to Unquestionable Presence (Atheist), Focus (Cynic), and, to a lesser extent, Decrepit Birth.3 There are even moments that echo more subdued moments from recent Sallow Moth releases (“The Serpent’s Perpetual Shed”). Staccato bursts of guitar, pinch harmonics, and buttery, fretless bass glissandos epitomize what Barn offers, and they spread it thick and chunky all over Crucibles’ sixty-five-minute runtime. Rustic name notwithstanding, Barn’s latest sounds like a sci-fi adventure, supported by track names like “Black Hole Lens” and “Cymatics.” The fretless bass especially helps with the futuristic aesthetic, frictionlessly gliding through gusts of abrupt, otherworldly guitars that buffet tracks from all angles. Barn rarely offers reprieve during their unconventional onslaught, but tracks like “Forbidden Fruits,” “Cymatics,” and “The Defeater” achieve such heights that I don’t find myself needing one. In short, these Boise boys warp listeners to a different dimension on Crucibles, and though it runs a tad long, I haven’t been deterred yet from lighting up this Barnburner.

Dionysiaque // La Tourbe des Rêves [March 27th, 2026 – I, Voidhanger Records]

Dionysiaque dispenses a bizarre derivative of doom on La Tourbe des Rêves that’s sure to be equal parts captivating and divisive. Reaching into the bag of tricks defined by Cathedral, Black Sabbath, and Candlemass, Dionysiaque’s sophomore album lumbers and chugs with classic rock-inspired leads and firecracker songcraft that I find utterly enthralling. Songs like “Aaron,” “Hate Fruit,” and “The Two Headed Boy” spotlight Dionysiaque’s plaintive guitar wails, contributed by L.B. and Bruno Penserini, along with their savvy balance of somber atmospheres and rousing melodies. Buoying the guitar tandem, bassist Lethal lays down frolicking, fabulous thunder via absorbing countermelodies while drummer T.H. looses potent fills and rolls throughout. Soaring atop the instrumentation are N.C.’s unorthodox vocals, which will almost certainly be the sole determining factor in listeners’ ability to engage with La Tourbe des Rêves. His delivery recalls that of Mayhem’s Attila Csihar at his most operatically deranged, never lacking conviction yet occasionally overpowering and ostentatious. Still, I appreciate and enjoy the commitment to the unhinged performance, and although dialing it back a little would make Dionysiaque’s latest more accessible, I’ve come to love La Tourbe des Rêves without apology. So don’t be afraid to let a little love into your heart—go get debauched with Dionysiaque’s aphrodisiac.

Creeping Ivy’s Pandemonic Pleasure

Mammon’s Throne // My Body to the Worms [March 13th, 2026 – Hammerheart Records]

In advising his fellow fallen angels—recently expelled from Heaven—to turn Hell into a competing kingdom, Mammon projects that All Demons will ‘work ease out of pain / Through labor and endurance.’4 Satan doesn’t heed this advice, but the third LP from Mammon’s Throne arguably does. On My Body to the Worms, this Australian five-piece inflicts pleasurable pain upon metaldom via five filthy slabs of sludgy death-doom (plus two instrumental reprieves). Mammon’s Throne conjure Hooded Menace, Temple of Void, and (old) Worm in their proclivity for plodding tempos, swampy riffs, and gravely howls (“Elixir”). The album is also a labor of love for classic (death-) doom à la Paradise Lost and My Dying Bride, mixing gothy croons, ascendant melodicism, and haunting piano into the band’s sinister stew (“Every Day More Sickened,” “At the Threshold of Eternity”). Though the listener does need some endurance, as three of the five non-instrumentals hover in the 8–9 minute range, the record flows fluidly across an easy 42 minutes. If you ever wondered what metal in league with Mammon might sound like, give My Body to the Worms a spin.

Dimmu Borgir, Grand Serpent Rising

Let him not be taught darkness
Let him discover it
And dissolve into it
We may never tame the very beast that dwelleth within
From luminous fire, the glory and danger alike
The grand serpent rising
#dimmuborgir #symphonicblackmetal #metalmusic #darkness #NorwegianMetal #MetalSky #Fotografie #photography

While most people would argue that “black metal” was founded by bands like Venom, Bathory, and Mercyful Fate, the scene didn’t really become what it is without the creation of Norwegian black metal. Which, in turn, people will argue was founded by Mayhem, Burzum, Darkthrone, Immortal, and the like. But people forget acts like Ulver, Urgehal, Satyricon, and Gorgoroth (and others) that helped form the genre. If you know Grier, you know how much Urgehal and Gorgoroth mean to his youthful, black metal development. They are also home to two of his favorite black metal raspers of all time: Trond Bråthen (Trondr Nefas) and Kristian Eivind Espedal (Gaahl), respectively. Before Gaahl made his mark on Gorgoroth classics like Twilight of the Idols – In Conspiracy with Satan and Ad Majorem Sathanas Gloriam, he already had his own band: Trelldom.

Trelldom doesn’t get enough love. But Angry Metal Guy knew what was up when he went back in time to explore easily one of the genre’s greatest hits: Til et annet…. This record is a fucking masterpiece that shows a side of Gaahl you might not know. Those who have followed him throughout his various exploits know full well that Gaahl is a weird guy with some of the creepiest fucking vocals on the planet. But Trelldom’s trilogy of albums from 1992 to 2007 was untouchable. Fast forward to 2024, and the band returns with …By the Shadows…, an even weirder concoction of songs than ever before. Taking a darker direction with a new lineup of legends, …By the Shadows… represented an impressive comeback for the band, rebranded into something more diverse and heartfelt than before. Right on the coattails of that album comes this year’s …By the Word…. And it’s everything you’d expect from a follow-up.

Returning with the mighty Stian Kårstad (ex-Djerv, ex-Gaahls Wyrd, ex-God Seed) and kit powerhouse Kenneth Kapstad (Thorns, Goat the Head, ex-God Seed, and a billion other bands), Gaahl rounds out his lineup with practitioners of the bass, saxophone, clarinet, organ, Dobro guitar, bass harmonica, mandolin, Shankar guitar, and even the fucking Optigan to deliver one of the most unique records of his life. “When This Was Young” opens the record with proggy bass and drums, matching perfectly with Gaahl’s soothing cleans. When the chuggery kicks in, Kapstad’s drums let loose, showing off his impressive skills and giving the song (A) Senile Animal-era Melvins vibes. As it progresses, the effects intensify, melding themselves into the guitars and creating unnecessary madness throughout.

But the opener might be the “chillest” song on the record. By “I Speak Forgotten Voices,” you’ll know that …By the Word… is far more unhinged than its predecessor. The overlapping effects, unsettling vocals, and relentless, pounding drums remove any peace …By the Shadows… might have had. But it’s the mindfucking back-to-back closers, “The Word – Choose to Vanish” and “In There Outside,” that show just how far Trelldom has pushed their sound. Chock-full of all those different instruments mentioned before, “The Word – Choose to Vanish” doesn’t so much add layers as mold everything into the most grotesque monster I’ve heard in a long time. And when you think you’ve heard everything you could from Trelldom, “In There Outside” proves to be one of the more diverse on the album. Throwing you off immediately, the whining woodwinds are replaced with yet another alteration of Gaahl’s vox as the song builds on itself over and over again, resulting in more orchestral qualities than any other track.

…By the Word… is batshit crazy and cerebrally damaging. Where …By the Shadows… at least had moments of relief, this new record does not. Beyond the weird combination of guitars, saxophone, and clarinet screaming at you from all directions, it’s the bass and drums that cause the most damage. Mixed far too the front, the drums, in particular, are ear-shattering. That sounds negative, but it does a hell of a job keeping you off balance. Specifically, when it comes to the devastating “Folding the Mind.” It’s almost as if the band decided it was time to let Kapstad off the leash. …By the Word… is an interesting album that pushes beyond anything the band has done before. It can never be Til et annet… but that’s OK because they aren’t going for it. This new era is worth exploring and …By the Word… is a new benchmark.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Prophecy Productions
Websites: trelldom.bandcamp.com | trelldom.no | facebook.com/trelldom1992
Releases Worldwide: May 29th, 2026

https://www.europesays.com/uk/989403/ Sabotør – Første Aksjon Review #2026 #30 #BrocasHelm #DarkEssenceRecords #Deathhammer #Entertainment #FørsteAksjon #HeavyMetal #Kvelertak #May26 #Metallica #music #NorwegianMetal #Punk #Review #Reviews #Sabotør #ThrashMetal #UK #UnitedKingdom

Sabotør – Første Aksjon Review

Among the foundations of heavy metal are resistance and counterculture. Thus, it makes sense that a young Norwegian…
#NewsBeep #News #Music #2026 #3.0 #BrocasHelm #DarkEssenceRecords #Deathhammer #Entertainment #FørsteAksjon #HeavyMetal #Kvelertak #May26 #Metallica #NorwegianMetal #Punk #review #Reviews #Sabotør #ThrashMetal #UK #UnitedKingdom
https://www.newsbeep.com/uk/607641/

Among the foundations of heavy metal are resistance and counterculture. Thus, it makes sense that a young Norwegian band, Sabotør, decided to create a record regaling tales of the Norwegian resistance against Nazi Germany. This period birthed the term Quisling as synonymous for traitor when Vidkun Quisling attempted to take Norway down a path of Nazism. The Norwegian resistance thwarted his plans by using tactics such as an underground press, “ice fronts” that served to alienate Germans from Norwegian society, and anti-Nazi jokes meant to make the Nazis look foolish. It wasn’t all non-violence, either. They managed to sink a German cruiser called the Bluecher.1 This all sounds like great material for an album, and I’m only saddened I don’t speak Norwegian to understand what these lads are singing about. While I don’t know the words, I can appreciate the music as raucous, fun, and a little deranged.

True to its themes of resistance, Første Aksjon (roughly translated as first action or first strike) features a collection of old school abrasive punk/thrash tunes sure to stir the rebel in you. The raw, high-energy sound brings to mind Kill ’em All era Metallica, and opening song “Jerngrepets Inntog,” could almost be a lost track from that classic debut. There’s a hunger and passion that echoes those early Metallica years, and it brings a freshness and earnestness to the music. I also hear some early Kvelertak, and Sabotør cites the obscure Brocas Helm as a major influence. Like any good resistance movement, the music is unpredictable yet incessantly energetic. This means non-stop riffs, solos, and blasts of the snare drum. Sabotør are not above hooks, with a catchy chorus that appears out of nowhere on “Skyggens Frekvens” and makes you want to sing/shout along with it. Rasmus Strømberg also catches listeners off guard with sudden leaps into vocal harmonizations that just add to the catchiness (“Jerngrepets Inntog”, “Sabotør,” “Flagget”). In all, Første Aksjon is pure fun.

The musicians display a show of raw power and passion that makes Første Aksjon constantly exciting. Strømberg’s deranged vocal performance leads the way. He mixes the abrasion of Kvelertak’s Ivar Nikolaisen, the mania of Sergeant Salsten (Deathhammer), and even some touches of a young James Hetfield, particularly those pre-pubescent screeches. He screeches, shouts, screams, and growls through more than 30 minutes of intense music, and that’s not all. He has an entertaining cadence that proves him to be a superb raconteur. He’s full of surprises, turning the speed to 11 on “Brente Jords Taktikk” and then turning in a raucous bit on “Jevnet Med Jorden” where he sounds like an auctioneer speaking in tongues. The other musicians also contribute to the mania, particularly drummer Mathilde Solemdal. He ensures a non-stop energy with his frequent snare hits, cymbal blasts, and frenetic blast beats. Guitarist Andreas Remmen provides a semblance of sanity with controlled yet energetic riffs. He provides plenty of melody, thrashy riffs, and even some cool arpeggios (“Flagget”).

The only thing holding Sabotør back is the production. This is an instance where the high DR score (12) seems at odds with how the record sounds. In some ways, it sounds great, with crisp and clear instrumentation, including the bass. The lower quality of my promo copy probably contributed to my sound issues. I found the album to be on the quiet side and had to turn the volume up to hear it properly. However, the snare tone is too loud, and its incessant presence proves a headache. While the brief album length makes for easier repeat spins, the mix will make you want to give your ears a rest before long. There are a couple of other distracting bits, including a section on “Flagget,” where a plane engine sounds more like rumbling flatulence. While the rawness is appropriate, Første Aksjon could benefit from better balance in their mixing.

As Sabotør’s own bit of first action, Første Aksjon proves to be an impressive debut. As the Indiana Jones flicks demonstrate, it’s fun to defeat Nazis. These guys continue that tradition, while also demonstrating the effectiveness of resistance in the face of authoritarianism. Sabotør also exhibit the joy of listening to hungry young musicians who just want to play what they love. There’s plenty to love here, and plenty to look forward to as these musicians mature in their songwriting.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 12 | Format Reviewed: ~165 kbps mp3
Label: Dark Essence Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: May 8th, 2026

At their best, Dimmu Borgir exudes a wicked majesty, governing the forces of darkness with dispassionate contempt and an utter certainty in their ungodly mandate. This attitude, along with the confluence of grandeur and melodrama, defines what initially drew me to Dimmu Borgir years ago, and what has kept me interested despite the interminable gaps between releases. Since forming in 1993, Shagrath and Silenoz have consistently delivered symphonic black metal that tempers the unrelenting acrimony of second-wave black metal with wistful melodies, sculpting an extensive emotional palette. In 2000, Dimmu Borgir enlisted Old Man’s Child’s Galder as lead guitarist, and the three of them penned bewitching black metal for a quarter century. As with all good things, though, it didn’t last, and Galder departed in 2024 to focus on Old Man’s Child once more. Given the shakeup of a longtime winning formula, do Shagrath and Silenoz silence naysayers with Grand Serpent Rising, or are listeners saddled with Temu Borgir?1

As ever, Dimmu Borgir discharges extravagant theater through the lens of black metal, drenching Grand Serpent Rising in haunting atmospherics and lush orchestrations. Since Death Cult Armageddon, the incorporation of symphonic elements has steadily grown more prominent, and over the years, these Norwegians have carved out a niche that exists somewhere between Gorgoroth and Nightwish. And like Cradle of Filth, Dimmu Borgir goes for baroque, though instead of luxuriating in garish excess, they compose with nuanced sophistication. Grand Serpent Rising is the culmination of the intervening albums, with Galder’s departure pushing Dimmu Borgir to fill the void he left with more deliberate arrangements. Thankfully, Grand Serpent Rising advances what yielded success for the band over the last couple decades, dredging textural depths and honing the intricate interplays of instrumentation that didn’t reach quite far enough on Eonian.

Though Shagrath and Silenoz shoulder many of Grand Serpent Rising’s performances, a handful of guests play pivotal roles in defining one of Dimmu Borgir’s best-sounding records. Longtime session and live drummer Daray gets an immediate boost, where the drumheads’ natural timbres and resonances leap out of the mix to imbue a thunderous dimension missing from Eonian (“The Qryptfarer,” “Phantom of the Nemesis”). The orchestrations and keyboards also integrate better on Grand Serpent Rising,2 their presence is more intentional and interwoven in lieu of Galder’s nimble lead work. None of this should suggest that the guitars take a backseat, though, as Silenoz and Kjell ‘Damage’ Karlsen (Chrome Division)3 pluck and shred with conviction as songs demand (check the intro to “Repository of Divine Transmutation” and the solo in “Ascent”). The riffs and leads merit attention as well, with soaring melodies (“Slik Minnes en Alkymist”), crystalline cleans (“As Seen in the Unseen”), and trem-picked offensives emboldening the Serpent. All the while, Shagrath croaks (“Slik Minnes en Alkymist”) and croons (“Ascent”), supplying one of black metal’s least abrasive vocal styles.

Dimmu Borgir prevails throughout Grand Serpent Rising, although a few issues from previous albums linger. At sixty-nine minutes long, Grand Serpent Rising sprawls. To be fair, the album is dynamic and intricate enough that parts rarely (if ever) feel repetitive, and proceedings slither quicker than the length suggests. Yet condensing the runtime by ten minutes would improve the overarching impact and effectiveness. Compounding and confounding the duration is the complexity of Grand Serpent Rising’s arrangements—they richly reward those with the patience to fully engage for multiple listens, but present a hurdle for impatient or distracted listening. Still, while the album isn’t perfect, these complaints pale in comparison to the triumph Dimmu Burger devises on Grand Serpent Rising.

In the end, Dimmu Borgir has written an album that refines their sound rather than reinventing it. If you’ve listened to any of their recent albums and formed an opinion, Grand Serpent Rising won’t change it. Instead, it proves that Dimmu remains as skilled as ever at creating opulent symphoblack, regardless of how long it takes between albums or what crucial personnel changes they endure. Dimmu Borgir perseveres For all tid, and if you’re not wholly opposed to flamboyant black metal on principle, their latest awaits to stimulate, captivate, and ensure your Grand Serpent’s Rising.

Rating: Very Good!
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Nuclear Blast Records
Websites: Website | Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: May 22nd, 2026

Yup, it’s late, and I don’t even feel bad about it. Because, once again, no promo, no stream, no nothing from the lovable assholes that are Nocturno Culto and Fenriz. Who would even write a review at this point? You don’t care. I don’t care. And Darkthrone certainly don’t care. Well… because I sorta care. Just a little.1 Mostly I care because I wanted to see if the band could bounce back after their dreadful 2024 release, It Beckons Deez Nutz…………. Though the band has been chasing “pre-historic” metal since their significant shit at Hate Them and Sardonic Wrath, one can only assume Pre-Historic Metal is meant as a definitive homage to the ways of the olde.2 Which means, half of the staff (and most of you) have already moved on to your hip, new-wave shit—sucking back a Truly and trying to hold your vape like you’re fucking Humphrey Bogart from The Maltese Falcon.3 I guess I’m the only one with balls around here.

Anyway, this new, ear-splitting opus from Darkthrone does indeed explore even more of the classics, ranging from Maiden gallops to Mercyful Fate guitar play and hair metal groovery—the good stuff. The stuff before Zack Morris and gang ruined fashion, music, and my life.4 With that, even come shifts that are new to the band. Like, having rocking, accessible grooves that you could put on the radio. Just kidding. Idiots. But you’ll be surprised by some of the arrangements and the slickness of the songwriting. The other thing Pre-Historic Metal has over many of the band’s previous releases is… RIFFS. Lots and lots of fucking RIFFS. Do they all work? No. Do they tend to blend? Yes. Do they still kick ass? Also, yes.

To open the album, “They Found One of My Graves” borrows some inspiration from Kill ‘Em All-era Metallica, delivering some hooking licks that transition only when the urge for Motörhead-meets-Mercyful Fate-isms takes hold. The result is the funnest song on the record, and perhaps one of the grooviest of the band’s career. “Siberian Thaw” is another with that big, fun energy. After the instruments gently fade in, the song alternates between mid-paced chuggery and waist-deep murkery. The best part comes around the middle, when everything falls away and is replaced by eerie effects and a stellar bass lead. I’m not sure I’ve heard such prominent bass work on a Darkthrone album before, but they should do it more often.

Following “Siberian Thaw,” “Deeply Rooted” takes many of its predecessor’s doomy, damning qualities and pushes harder against Pre-Historic Metal’s outer walls. Adding some melody to the mid-paced groveling, the song creates an ascending character that only climbs higher as it progresses. Like the previous track, “Deeply Rooted” has a definitive moment of stoppage before more Metallica vibes kick in and the band goes flying. Continuing with this ridiculous continuity that has existed since Soulside Journey and only recently carried on, the album closes with the fourth part of “Eon.” Unlike the rest of the album, “Eon 4” is far more Darkthrone in approach. It contains classic tremolos and a black metal edge. When Fenriz’s absurd vocals arrive, they somehow feel far more fitting on this song than on others. But, as with the rest of the album, the moment you think you’ve settled in, everything around you changes. This time, the 1980s hit you like a fucking brick as the band hammers out one of the most headbangable licks on the record. Toss in a horse chase of galloping energy, and you have a winner in “Eon 4.”

While the instrumental, “So I Marched to the Sunken Empire,” is mostly unnecessary, it does point to a time when it seemed like every metal album had at least one. And even though the title track sounds like tired, overdone Darkthrone, with its ugly chord bends and even uglier Fenriz vocals,5 it still contains a killer lick on the back-end that’ll have you growing out your hair.6 Pre-Historic Metal is exactly as described. It’s a journey back in time, delivered through the eyes of two metal titans that have been doing this shit for forty fucking years.7 And the result is one of the most straightforward the band has produced. Keeping the weirdness to a minimum and letting the riffs shine throughout. With a respectable master that lets all things surface at the right time, Pre-Historic Metal is one of the best Darkthrone records of this era.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: ALAC
Label: Peaveville Records | Bandcamp
Websites: facebook.com/darkthroneofficial
Releases Worldwide: May 8th, 2026

https://www.europesays.com/uk/870092/ Green Carnation – A Dark Poem Part II: Sanguis Review #2026 #45 #ADarkPoemPartII:Sanguis #Apr26 #Entertainment #GreenCarnation #music #NorwegianMetal #ProgressiveMetal #Review #Reviews #SeasonOfMist #UK #UnitedKingdom

A little less than a year ago, Green Carnation dropped Part I of their A Dark Poem trilogy, The Shores of Melancholia. That captivating record sets the stage for the band’s ambitious Ophelia-inspired epic. While I know many loved The Shores of Melancholia as it stood (which is fair), I had a difficult time treating it that way, knowing it was meant to be a full experience. Thankfully, I can say that The Shores of Melancholia works even more now that I’ve heard A Dark Poem Part II: Sanguis. The Shores of Melancholia is a fantastic introduction to the unbearable depression, frustration, guilt, and sorrow that envelop Sanguis and its impeccably concise, thirty-seven-minute runtime. So, I’ll admit, individual albums should have stand-alone qualities. That way, listeners can absorb a record in the moment and in the entire experience when they have time for such a thing. We all know Part I mostly achieved that, but what about Part II?

I can thankfully say that Green Carnation has achieved both. Sanguis is a record you can put on repeat with no problems, while also setting both parts on in succession. Everything that was set up in the first album is cranked to eleven in the sequel. And not just in songwriting, riffage, aggression, or attitude. This is still Green Carnation, after all. The sad moments I felt with the first album are far more intense in the sequel. The riffs are harder than most of the songs the band has ever written, and the slower pieces have the emotion of a broken-hearted child. This is exactly what much of the lyrical content focuses on. If there ever was A Dark Poem by Green Carnation, Sanguis is it.

A Dark Poem, Part II: Sanguis by Green Carnation

The self-titled opener is simply one of the most epic on the disc. It picks up from where the previous album left off and slingshots you into a powerful new direction. Incorporating spacey effects with a headbangable groove and a soaring, melodic chorus, this nine-minute beauty sets the stage for what’s to come. When the rasps arrive at the halfway mark, the desperation in the clean vocals intensifies, bringing along that good ole Green Carnation sadness. But the moment it all seems to come to an end, it transitions once more, splashing every known color on the canvas as it builds, drawing all manner of moods through its dripping, streaking, and smattering visualizations. This track alone is worth the journey into Sanguis, but it’s only the beginning.

We take a step back into the warm embrace of calmness with the follow-up track, “Loneliness Untold, Loneliness Unfold.” Ripped straight from the cutting floor of Acoustic Verses, this gorgeous track is made even more special because it features Stein Roger Sordal on vocals. And, by god, can he stand up straight next to the mighty Kjetil Nordhus. The closer, “Lunar Tale,” is another in the same vein. Simplistic in approach (that’s really what makes it so powerful), it uses soft vocals and breathy flute to zap any happiness you might have in your current situation, and leave you battered, broken, and without hope. Another track worth mentioning explores some sounds of Green Carnation’s past. “Fire in Ice” is a nifty compilation of the band’s current era, smashed together with the rocking character of A Blessing in Disguise. Opening with some soothing clean guitars, it alternates between a classic groove and a bass/drum-led lull. Then, it erupts into a kickass riff that rocks the socks off my dick. This song incorporates the ferocity and beauty of Green Carnation better than any on the album.

Outside of some goofy progginess on the back half of “Sweet to the Point of Bitter,” Sanguis is arguably damn-near perfect. The opener conjures fist-pumping anger at the sky; “Fire in Ice” lets you stomp down everything that stands in your way; and “Loneliness Untold, Loneliness Unfold”1 is the emotional breakdown song we’ve needed all year. Toss in a handsomely dynamic master that lets even the smallest of morsels of melancholy rise to the surface, and you have something that is simply breathtaking for the band and the genre. If Green Carnation has never resonated with you, there is nothing I can do to change your mind. For those who need something in these trying times to bolster their spirits or tear them apart (if only for a moment to reset), Sanguis is here for you.

Rating: 4.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Season of Mist
Websites: greencarnationsom.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/greencarnationnorway
Releases Worldwide: April 3rd, 2026

https://www.europesays.com/uk/845092/ Via Doloris – Guerre et Paix Review #1349 #1914 #2026 #35 #AnaalNathrakh #AtmosphericBlackMetal #BlackMetal #BlutAusNord #Entertainment #Fluisteraars #GuerreEtPaix #Havukruunu #Mar26 #music #NorwegianMetal #PaganBlackMetal #Review #Reviews #Satyricon #SeasonOfMist #UK #UnitedKingdom #ViaDoloris

Sometimes a record practically introduces itself with a shrug. Take Via Doloris and their debut Guerre et Paix. The band name? A shortened nod to the Via Dolorosa. The death of Jesus and some “suffering-as-identity” vibes that we’ve seen a thousand times in black metal. The album title? Literally War and Peace in French. The cover art? You’ve seen it. You have seen it—some grayscale, vaguely haunted expanse that could just as easily front a dozen other releases clogging up the “give in to your anger” section. None of this is a crime on its own, but stack all these choices together, and they start pinging that lizard-brain reviewer alarm: this looks like a mid-tier black metal album before a single note even plays. Then there’s the promo copy, dutifully promising “a passage through pain in search of meaning, and the distant, flickering promise of rebirth.” Is this thing good, or is it just another entry in the ever-expanding catalog of metal-by-numbers?

Via Doloris is the solo project of guitarist Gildas le Pape, who spent several years performing live with Satyricon, and Guerre et Paix marks his debut under the moniker. The sound is a comfortable middle ground between more straightforward, blast-driven, 2nd-wave riffing and more expansive, atmospheric impulses, with le Pape’s melody-forward riffs driving the compositions. His guitar work never veers too far off the blackened path, but he imbues each riff with a sneaky melodicity and deploys a fair amount of variety in his 6-stringed attack. There are notes of Havukruunu-esque pagan black melodies (“Communion”), swirling Blut Aus Nord icy arpeggios (“Omniprésents”), and searing, Anaal Nathkrakh-flavored bouts of black metal destruction (“For The Glory”). Throughout it all, le Pape’s knack for catchy, multi-faceted blackened riff-craft shines through. The parts are at once hypnotic and aggressive, and often deepened through intricate guitar layers, allowing songs to flow seamlessly between movements. I’ve found the entrancing outro to “Ultime Tourment” or the Fluisteraars-like motif of “Visdommens Vei 1” stuck in my head for weeks during the review, a testament to the strength of the guitar parts on display and to their immersive effect.

The songs on Guerre et Paix largely sit in the 6–7 minute range, and while Via Doloris doesn’t always wring every possible peak out of that runtime, le Pape makes it feel purposeful more often than not. A track like “Un Franc Soleil” is built around an engaging central riff that subtly evolves as the song progresses, even if it stops just shy of a full-blown crescendo. This approach carries across the record: rather than leaning on dramatic shifts, le Pape favors gradual layering and textural changes, letting songs breathe and unfold at their own pace. The songwriting tends to stick to a core tempo and feel, with variation coming from added guitar layers, drum patterns, or ambient elements rather than structural overhauls. While this can create a meditative consistency that makes certain parts and songs blend together, it ultimately works in the album’s favor, giving Guerre et Paix a cohesive, immersive flow that reinforces the strength of its ideas over the course of a full listen.

This is all buoyed by a seriously sharp production job. Guerre et Paix sounds immaculate. Produced by le Pape and mixed with Nicolai Codling, it opts for clarity over the genre’s usual haze with crystalline guitars front and center, cutting cleanly through even the densest passages. They’re icy but precise, with every layered phrase coming through intact instead of dissolving into mush. Frost (Satyricon, 1349) turns in a characteristically stellar session performance, and the mix gives him room to flex. The drums have a warm, natural quality to them that showcases a varied performance. It allows the more subdued sections to breathe while still filling the mix during more intense, blast-heavy moments. It all comes together to elevate the album’s most dynamic touches, letting details like the choral swell in “Omniprésents” or the melancholic closing progression of “Communion” land exactly as they should.

As it turns out, Guerre et Paix lands comfortably above the genre’s overcrowded middle tier. Via Doloris has delivered an immersive and nuanced atmospheric black metal record, carried by memorable, melodic guitar work that unfolds beautifully over contemplative songs. It sounds amazing and marks le Pape as a promising voice within the space. This is way better than the somewhat generic packaging would suggest.



Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 10 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Season of Mist
Websites: viadoloris.bandcamp.com | instagram.com/via.doloris
Releases Worldwide: March 20th, 2026

At first blush, pop music and progressive rock might seem too contradictory to be combined effectively. While the former prioritizes immediate accessibility, the latter prizes unconventional artistic expression. Even so, several Norwegian bands are finding immensely original ways to reconcile these differences. Moron Police and Meer have been showered with heaps of deserved praise by my colleagues, but I discovered my personal favorite of the bunch tucked at the very end of GardensTale’s Top Ten(ish) of 2022 list. Major Parkinson’s Valesa – Chapter I: Velvet Prison quickly became one of my most beloved records of all time with its inimitable charm and wit. All permanent band members have returned for Valesa – Chapter II: Viva the Apocalypse!, which is particularly relieving given vocalist Jon Ivar Kollbotn’s heart attack while performing on stage a few years ago. I’m grateful that the full crew is still here to delight audiences once more.

If there’s anything predictable about Major Parkinson, it’s their unpredictability. While the chimeric fusion of synth-pop and prog rock of Velvet Prison was drenched in 80s nostalgia, Viva the Apocalypse! feels somewhat more modernized. The guitar lines (Øystein Bech-Eriksen and Sondre Skollevoll1) are much more prominent and flashy, with full-on solos in “Showbiz” and “Superdad.” In fact, pretty much everything about Viva the Apocalypse! is flashy. Lars Christian Bjørknes’s2 piano keys that featured prominently in prior albums are mostly replaced by glitzy synths, frequently underscored by blazing trumpets3 and smooth saxophone.4 Brand-new guest vocalist Halie’s husky singing complements Kollbotn’s gravelly yet velvety tones extremely well. His voice has only become richer over time, bathing my ears as if with warm honey.

Valesa – Chapter II: Viva the Apocalypse! by Major Parkinson

Major Parkinson has always been defined by duality, but on Viva the Apocalypse! it’s sharper than ever. The first half of the record is full of ridiculously catchy, quirky arrangements and carefree curiosity. There are even sprinklings of funk (“Superdad”) and gospel (“Showbiz”). “Viva the Apocalypse!” is the climax of this feverish party, as trumpets, upbeat electronic tunes, and guitar riffs blast with reckless abandon. But something about all this mirth doesn’t feel quite genuine, and the second half of Viva the Apocalypse! grows more hostile as the mask starts to slip. “Karma Supernova” begins with ominous bass notes that intertwine with guitar and synth lines to signal something sinister approaching, with Sondre Veland’s drumming sporadically becoming frantic as tension builds and releases. His frenzied kitwork and the whirring synth tone at the end of “Maybelline” give the vivid impression that the record is about to self-destruct.

As different as the individual elements are on Viva the Apocalypse!, Major Parkinson again weaves them together into a unified and unique experience. I miss the eccentric interludes from Velvet Prison, but other songwriting tricks have carried over. As before, Viva the Apocalypse! leans on simple recurring lyrics to tie the tracks together with tickling déjà vu. Examples include “The world is on fire, and you look so beautiful” (“Superdad,” Kiss Me Now!”), and “Free drinks for everyone!” (“Showbiz,” “Karma Supernova”). I particularly love the one-two punch of “Superdad” and “Father Superior,” which (as their titles suggest) are deliciously complementary, both musically and lyrically. However, I’m less enthralled by Kollbotn’s unsettling shouting match with returning vocalist Peri Winkle in “Maybelline,” which contrasts starkly with their gentle duet in “Kiss Me Now!” Despite the powerful artistic statement, these closing tracks are more difficult to appreciate musically.

In many ways, Viva the Apocalypse! is Major Parkinson’s most incendiary chapter to date. It’s more technically impressive—the drums and guitars in particular get their chance to shine brightly. Once again, they have cleverly evolved their sound and leveraged a diverse supporting cast to enrich the musical environment. The first half of Viva the Apocalypse! is a fantastic dream from which I don’t want to wake, but the second half is meaner and less emotionally gripping for me. Still, there is something special going on here, just like in Norway’s prog scene as a whole. If the world is on fire, I’m glad that Major Parkinson is around to give us a good time as it goes up in flames.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: PCM
Label: Apollon Records
Websites: majorparkinson.bandcamp.com | majorparkinson.com | facebook.com/majorparkinson
Releases Worldwide: March 13th, 2026

Rosa Faenskap – Ingenting Forblir Review

Do you ever hear a punk song and think, “Sure, I’d also like to overthrow the establishment, but…
#NewsBeep #News #Music #2026 #3.5 #BlackMetal #BlackenedHardcore #CA #Canada #Entertainment #FysiskFormat #hardcore #Mar26 #NorwegianMetal #review #reviews #Svalbard #Thurm
https://www.newsbeep.com/ca/531643/

Do you ever hear a punk song and think, “Sure, I’d also like to overthrow the establishment, but couldn’t you learn to play guitar a bit better?” Have you ever found yourself embarrassed to be banging your head to a sick black metal riff written and performed by one of the world’s most repugnant lowlifes? Yes. So have thousands of our brethren in every squat and co-op from Greece to Iceland; and as is their wont, they have taken matters into their own grubby hands, pressing a huge variety of records that radiate out from the collision of metal and hardcore in every hue and shade, from the bilious How Hate is Hard to Define to the cerulean Archivist. Rosa Faenskap, unsurprisingly, fit themselves into the long-wavelength end of that rainbow.

Practicing a particularly dark and frostbitten form of Euro-Lefty-Black-Hardcore, Rosa Faenskap find themselves between the vicious pallor of Thurm and the sanguine rage of Svalbard, on occasion reflecting a few fleeting tones from the early Plebeian Grandstand records. Emil Vestre grinds out icy tremolo leads as jagged as they come, crashing and crackling in coupled cacaphony with vocalist Håvard Solli’s snarling bass; in the pre-breakdown chug and pick-scrape of “Faenskap for alltid,” you’d swear you were standing six feet away from their amplifier in a damp Oslo basement. Drummer Anders Jansvik’s performance is likewise big and booming. Whatever the trio might lack, it’s not energy.

Ingenting Forblir by Rosa Faenskap

Though Rosa Faenskap are pretty green, this sophomore record is remarkably focused, holding its space through force and fury, hammering a few riffs as harshly as possible before their close. “Den Svake Mannen” rides a rung-out arpeggio so continuously that you can still hear it when Vestre switches over to tremolos, but I’m never disappointed to hear them return to it halfway through the song. “Faenskap for Alltid” pursues a more straightforward black metal at first, expertly executing a couple of stock tremolo metal riffs with a panache that I’m surprised to hear outside of a Spectral Wound record before the band shift from blackened to bruising, stomping through a breakdown and proclaiming “faenskap for alltid!” again and again.

Ingenting Forblir’s success stands in part on the band’s canny writing, but is far more indebted to its quality of sound. The record’s production and mix, handled by the band in collaboration with Oskar Johnsen Ryd and Torfinn Sommerfeldt Lysne, respects the vitality of the material, sounding live and livid. My only complaint is that Jansvik’s drums can get buried during busy sections, in part due to a muffled snare tone. Despite a low-DR master, the record is dynamic where it needs to be; when the band leave Vestre alone and pensive with their guitar, the quiet registers, and I feel myself slipping a bit closer in towards the record.

“Jeg Våkner Snart” closes Ingenting Forblir as the band’s most ambitious and successful song, layering tremolo leads over gang vocals, retreating into quiet, reverberating melody, and ending in a boiling conflagration of noise. For a sophomore record leaner and meaner than the band’s 2023 debut, it’s just the right ending. Ingenting Forblir hardly breaks new musical ground, but Rosa Faenskap’s sour determination will likely propel it into my regular listening rotation this year. In practice, I might not be up for faenskap for alltid, but I’ll happily recommend faenskap for lenge.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps MP3
Label: Fysisk Format
Websites: rosafaenskap.com | rosafaenskap.bandcamp.com
Releases Worldwide: March 6th, 2026

https://www.europesays.com/ie/376586/ Vreid – The Skies Turn Black Review #2026 #35 #AmonAmarth #BlackMetal #DimmuBorgir #Djerv #Éire #Entertainment #IE #IndieRecordings #Ireland #Kampfar #Mar26 #Music #NorwegianMetal #Review #Reviews #TheSkiesTurnBlack #Vreid

It’s been a long five years since we’ve had an album from this Norwegian foursome. Which is probably a good thing, considering their last few releases haven’t been their best by a long shot. Basically, since 2011’s V, the band has struggled to retain their days-of-yore sound while trying to expand on it and deliver something fresh. Having left Season of Mist and returned to Indie Recordings, now is the time to drop something new and exciting—especially if you’ve once again enlisted the mighty Mistur’s keyboard wizard, Espen Bakketeig, to lend a hand in the finished product. One spin in and Vreid fans will find a lot of what you’ve come to expect from the band, while also exploring some surprising new directions that are sure to drop your jaw. But, is that a good or bad thing for The Skies Turn Black?

As has become the norm for the band, we’re blessed with some killer guest appearances by the aforementioned Espen Bakketeig and Djerv’s Agnete Kjølsrud, a smart decision by Kampfar on the amazing Ofidians Manifest. While Bakketeig’s performance on 2021’s solid Wild North West, I felt he was underutilized when crafting his key atmospheres or lustful piano passages. Thankfully, that is not the case for The Skies Turn Black. Outside of the emotional piano interludes, you’ll find plenty of powerful, spacey, and quirky key atmospheres throughout. And Kjølsrud’s contributions to the almost gothy “Loving the Dead” make it one of the best songs the band has ever penned.1

The album begins on a strong note with “From These Woods,” which is one of the longer and more epic tracks. After opening with some soothing clean and acoustic guitars, the black metal assault ensues. After passing through a dark alley of echoing clean-vocal support, the new riff change is nastier and heavier than ever. But the moment you get settled in, the song comes to a screeching halt, unloading beautiful piano, soaring guitars, and lush, clean vocals. When it concludes, you’re whiplashed with a vicious attack because the fucking song still has two minutes to go. Another track that has similarities is “Smile of Hate.” This one has a simple but headbangable riff in the vein of Amon Amarth, that marches along at one point and collapses into another impressive piano passage. This time, a little less ethereal and more like the piano and key work of Dimmu Borgir.

But, like all Vreid records in the last decade, there’s a point where things get real weird. Not in a negative way, like some previous material. On The Skies Turn Black, it begins with “Kraken.” It turns out this track is part of the soundtrack to this year’s Norwegian “blockbuster,” Kraken.2 But being more synth-driven than guitar-driven, it has an eerie vibe that actually would work equally well in the movie Sorcerer.3 It’s not a standout track, but it’s the perfect introduction to “Loving the Dead” because it uses the same elements. As mentioned, this song stands way out because Kjølsrud dominates on vocals. This eight-minute epic takes you through so many emotions, from Kjølsrud’s vocals to the intertwined guitar work and the climactic finish. This special piece is definitely a Grier SotY contender.

There are plenty of other high moments on this record, which is hella nice to hear for a change. The track that really loses me, though, is “Echoes of Life.” It’s not a bad song, but it’s an odd duck of ’70s progness. While it’s smooth and clean, it’s too old-timey to fit with the rest of the album. Thankfully, the follow-up closer “The Earth Rumbles” reignites the fire before the album concludes. If “Echoes of Life” ended the record, I might be a bit more upset. But, I’m pleased to say The Skies Turn Black is Vreid’s best album since V. Which is wild to say considering there are four full-lengths in that time. The master is nicely done, letting everyone shine when it matters—especially the bass, which has always been a major staple to their sound. If the skies really are going to turn black, I’m here for it. After all, that’s better than the color they are these days.



Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: Stream | Format Reviewed: Stream deez nutz
Label: Indie Recordings
Websites: vreid.bandcamp.com | vreid.no | facebook.com/vreidofficial
Releases Worldwide: March 6th, 2026

Vreid - The Skies Turn Black

https://vreid.bandcamp.com/album/the-skies-turn-black

#blackMetal #deathMetal #metal #scandinavianMetal #vreid #blackMetal #norwegian #norwegianMetal #sogndal

After removing my clothes, I wade into the promo sump. Yes, nakedness is advised for such a foray, as any loose material can get you ensnared by the bog’s filtration and disposal machinery or by the foul denizens that reside within the sludge. I enter herein with a single purpose in mind: to find a promo that will restore my credibility as a reviewer, if I ever had any to begin with. Since my return to the hall, I’ve written 3.5 after 3.5, and I am in search of something that will bring my average down before I am made to “non-suspiciously” disappear again. I reach down and grasp a promising prospect. Pieces of congealed n00b meat and 16-year-old promo remains fall from the cover, revealing a band name that sounds like some guy’s last name and a photo of several dudes in various tough-guy poses. I smile, allowing myself to hope that I’ve found what I’m looking for. Further investigation reveals Rozario’s Northern Crusaders to be a 50-minute-long heavy/power metal album, and I tell myself that this has 2.5 written all over it. Yep, this’ll do.

My confidence grows when I see that these Norwegians have picked the album’s first two songs as singles. “Fire and Ice” starts things off with some energetic power metal-infused heavy metal that brings Dream Evil immediately to mind. After a huge earworm chorus and some killer riffing and leads, the song winds down, and I’m horrified to realize that I’ve been involuntarily smiling and headbanging the whole time. Fear not, I say to myself. The next single can’t be as good. “We are One” takes the momentum of the opener and runs with it. I hear Brainstorm. I hear Dio. I hear more Dream Evil. I hear an even bigger chorus. Shit.

Not to worry! I’m sure they’ve simply stacked the singles at the front because they’re the best tunes. A qualitative drop-off is sure to come! Just as those foolish words finish leaving my mind-lips, “Down Low” slaps me across the face with a down-tuned chug that I didn’t see coming. This PED-enhanced version of Rozario, also seen on “Sleepless” and “Betrayed,” fits the Brainstorm mold alluded to above, and even ventures towards Mystic Prophecy levels of heaviness. “Crusader” and “Die Like Warriors” both see the band putting their Saxon pants on, their quality daring me to add them both to my “SWOARDS” playlist of battle-ready metal.

I finish Northern Crusaders for the first time and am surprised at just how fast the album’s 50 minutes flew by. I play it again. I like it even more. I am totally fucked. Sure, I can look across the album’s track list and pick out two songs that I don’t absolutely love (“Coming Home” and “The Warning”), but they’re still good songs whose place in the runtime almost totally mitigates any potential impact they could have had on the overall flow. I’m rather pissed that singer David Rosario puts in a journeyman performance with his weathered voice, and I’m even more upset that he’s filled his near-eponymous band with so much talent, particularly on guitar. The duo of Stein Hjertholm and Taran Lister has filled these tracks with muscular riffs, beautiful leads, and face-melting solos, and this is a huge reason that Northern Crusader feels so effortless and easily replayable. Even the production is fantastic. Gah! What a catastrophe!

It’s now been several weeks since I plucked this from the sump. As I put the finishing touches on the review and prepare to enter the final rating, I am suddenly aware of a presence in the room with me. I look up from my laptop screen to see 3.5 glaring at me with a sinister smile on its face. “You couldn’t live with your own failure,” it says. “Where did that bring you? Back to me.” I type the score, realizing it is futile to resist, fully aware that I’ve made the mistake of judging Rozario’s Northern Crusaders by its cover. I slam my computer screen down, stand up, and walk away, naked and full of shame.1

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 10 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Pride & Joy Music
Websites: rozarioofficial.com | facebook.com/rozarioband
Releases Worldwide: February 20th, 2026

If you know anything about grumpy ole Grier, you know he’s been dry-humping Bizarrekult ever since 2021’s Vi Overlevde. “Dry-humping” might not be the correct term. Maybe passionate lovemaking? Yeah, that’s the stuff. But, in all seriousness, this little band came out of nowhere and has been making waves in such a short time. While the debut had me glued to my seat, the follow-up, Den Tapte Krigen, damn-near bolted me down—to the point that I had to cut myself out of my pants to break free. If that had been the band’s swansong, I would have been just fine for the rest of my life. But Bizarrekult is back to ruin another pair of my pants. Behold! Alt Som Finnes!

Before we begin, let’s explore some of the new additions Bizarre and co. have brought to the table with this new outing. While the general structure of the output remains the same, the approach can vary. Joining the ranks of second-wave Norwegian black metal, Alcestian meloblack, and Enslaved-like intricacies are three guest vocalists: Yusaf “Vicotnik” Parvez (Dødheimsgard), Lina (Cross Bringer, Predatory Void), and Kim Song Sternkopf (Møl, The Arcane Order). I’m not sure whether the songs were created with the guests in mind or whether they evolved during the songwriting process, but each song was made for its guest. Each with a gentle, clean vocal style, you can expect some of the most melodic, gorgeous accompaniment in the Bizarrekult’s repertoire. And besides Sternkopf’s contribution to the closing “Tomhet,” this song is also the first ever to be penned in English. Not that we metalheads have an issue with songs in a country’s native language, unlike the rest of the mainstream poser fucks. But it’s a nice addition.

Alt Som Finnes by Bizarrekult

Alt Som Finnes kicks off with a surprising piece in the form of “Hun.” Mostly surprising in its simplicity and short runtime. Alternating between clean and distorted vocals and ripping blackened riffs, this track only whets the whistle—nothing more and nothing less. Which leaves me wanting more before “Blikket Hennes” slaps the fuck out of me like a cat who hasn’t received its treats. This track has a thick bass, unsettling old-school black metal dissonance, venomous Aldrahn-like growls, and a trudging pace slowed by tar. Then, it collapses into a gorgeous atmosphere as Parvez’s beautiful vocals hit hard and crush the olde ticker like it’s made of parchment.

There are so many reliable tracks that it’s difficult to choose one over the other. That said, “Avmakt” is a beautiful piece with one of the most memorable black metal licks I’ve heard in some time. And not because it’s thrash, death, or any other sort of approach, but because it’s a killer true black metal riff. As the song progresses, the melodies expand like an ever-growing blanket that settles over mountains and valleys, like giants slumbering below the fabric. It’s one of those songs that proves you don’t need the beauty of the clean vocals of “Blikket Hennes” to achieve the same task. While there are others in the same vein as “Avmakt,” “Aversjon” takes it to another level with its influences. Opening with slow-moving melodics and sorrowful sustains, it quickly goes dark, slithering below the Earthly strains like a viper. But, like a miracle at the darkest of times, an uplifting, Alcest-like air breathes over—pushing deep and far, even into Enslaved-esque prog-tivity.

On first spin, Alt Som Finnes is an absolute rollercoaster of emotions that, even though it’s not uncommon for Bizarrekult to instill, leave me completely crippled by the end. Outside of the surprisingly two-pump Chuck that is “Hun,” the rest weave together while many still try to resist the tempting urge to give in and conform to the predictable fabric patterns. Instead, you have a glowing blanket that is also scorched and tattered beyond repair. Though it remains intact, when touched, it feels both gentle and painful at the same time. It’s a conflicting album in its tone but not in its delivery, and the intricacies of this slow burner try hard to topple Den Tapte Krigen from its perch. Who knows where it’ll stand in time, but, regardless, this new outing is a worthy addition to the Bizarrekult family.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 256 kb/s mp3
Label: Season of Mist Underground Activists
Websites: bizarrekult.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/bizarrekult
Releases Worldwide: February 20th, 2026

Ever shrouded in mystery, the enigmatic collective Misotheist emerges from their icy realm to deliver succor to fans of metals black and arcane. De Pinte, the band’s fourth release, roughly translates from Norwegian to ‘The Tormented’ or ‘They Tormented,’1 a fitting appellation given the Trondheim troupe’s fondness for tortured topics and twisted themes.2 At their core, Misotheist takes the oppressive atmosphere of Selbst and merges it with Mayhem’s pummeling impudence, then strategically adorns that union with subtle melodies and naked emotions that remind me of Decline of the I. Mostly, though, Misotheist sounds like Misotheist, and given Doom_et_al’s brazen glazin’ of their last couple albums, that’s not a bad path to walk. Right?

As with prior albums, Misotheist continues exploring the band’s sonic landscape within the context they’ve defined for themselves. Second-wave tempests reign supreme, broken up by leaden crawls and punctuated with antagonistic bouts of dissonance and harmony. Fans of the band won’t be surprised at De Pinte’s mix, once again donning the lo-fi trappings Misotheist is known for and imbuing the songs with buzz and crunch. With four tracks on De Pinte compared to the typical three, Misotheist manages their most accessible album to date by keeping the opening trio trim (for them, anyway) and comprising a tightly written side A. Overall, the refinement on De Pinte signals a keen band that understands the path to greater success is one of degrees.

The first three tracks on De Pinte may be Misotheist’s best material yet, spewing counterbalanced discord and melody over varied paces in concise doses. The guitar twangs in “Unanswered Thrice” drop a wistful anchor of melancholy that tugs at the heartstrings over furious riffing and a bludgeoning drum performance, and “Blinded and Revealed” rumbles at an unhinged gait similar to Panzerfaust, injecting spidery leads over the blackened tumult beneath. It’s “Kjetterdom,” though, that stands out amongst on the A-side of the album, decelerating the momentum to an agonizing plod while the bass plays a pivotal melodic role that offsets serpentine guitar jangles. Throughout, the vocals cut and gut with what sounds like broken glass being ground in the back of someone’s throat, engendering an uncomfortable brutality that works seamlessly with the music. In all, the front half of De Pinte is loaded with great moments and potent songwriting, setting the stage for Misotheist’s longest song to date.

Though the heights of De Pinte surpass its predecessors, Misotheist hits a snag during the album’s last leg. The key to De Pinte comes down to tension, and where the front of the album excels here, “De Pinte” doesn’t quite stick the landing. Swirling, hypnotic trems play over rigidly metered bass drum blasts, and odd cymbal splashes jar proceedings out of orbit and into an exciting, dangerous crash course. The musical dynamics expertly weave to and fro, adventurously shifting the song’s velocity over a twenty-minute run that always shocks me with how fast it slips by. Misotheist’s dedication to atmosphere and tension throughout “De Pinte” is magnificent, and it’s baffling when so much time gets spent forging tension to have De Pinte just… end. There’s no big release. No catharsis. It might have been easier to look past if Misotheist hadn’t committed the same sin at the end of Vessels by Which the Devil Is Made Flesh, too. Despite how great the rest of the album is, the lack of fulfillment leaves me hollow, and the impact is outsized since this is a listener’s final impression.

Make no mistake, Misotheist brings the goods with De Pinte, and any fan of metal should find plenty to like on it. Though I’m disappointed with the lack of a fulfilling climax, I regularly find myself looking for forty minutes to sneak in another listen. Unquestionably great moments permeate the album, and while I’m disappointed with its final, crucial juncture, Misotheist’s latest is a must-listen in a month flush with quality releases. Don’t miss it, or the choice could come back to torment you.



Rating: Very Good!
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Terratur Possessions
Website: Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: February 20th, 2026

Brutal cold envelops the building as my minions scrape through ice and filthy slush to find even the smallest shard of metallic glimmer. With extensive budget cuts demanded by my exorbitant bonus schedule—as is my right as CEO of this filtration service—there was no room to purchase adequate gear and equipment for these harsher weathers. However, I did take up crocheting recently so each of my “employees” received a nice soft hat.

Hopefully, that will be enough to tide them over until the inclement weather passes and we return to normal temps. Until then, they have these rare finds to keep them warm, and so do you! REJOICE!

Kenstrosity’s Knightly Nightmare

AngelMaker // This Used to Be Heaven [November 20th, 2025 – Self Released]

I’ve been a fan of AngelMaker’s since their 2015 debut Dissentient. The grossly underrated and underappreciated Vancouver septet are a highly specialized deathcore infantry, with their lineup expanding steadily over their career in concert with their ever-increasing songwriting sophistication. Unlike the brutish and belligerent debut and follow-up AngelMaker, 2022’s Sanctum and new outing This Used to Be Heaven indulge in rich layering, near-neoclassical melodies, and dramatic atmosphere to complement AngelMaker’s trademark sense of swaggering groove. With early entries “Rich in Anguish” and “Haunter” establishing the strength of both sides of their sound, it always surprises me how AngelMaker successfully twist and gnarl their sound into shapes—whether it be hardcore, blackened, or melodic—I wasn’t anticipating (“Silken Hands,” “Relinquished,” “Nothing Left”). A rock-solid back half launched by the epic “The Omen” two-part suite brings these deviations from the expected into unity with the deathcore foundation I know AngelMaker so well for (“Malevolence Reigns,” “Altare Mortis”), and in doing so secure their status as one of the most reliably creative deathcore acts in the scene. Nothing here is going to change the minds of the fiercer deathcore detractors, but if your heart is open even just a crack, there’s a good chance This Used to Be Heaven will force themselves into it, if not entirely rip the whole thing asunder. My advice is simply to let it.

This Used To Be Heaven by AngelMaker

ClarkKent’s Sonic Symphonics

Brainblast // Colossus Suprema [November 11th, 2025 – Vmbrella]

A debut album five years in the making from a band formed in 2015, Colossus Suprema is the brainchild of Bogotá, Colombia’s Edd Jiménez. Jiménez turned his passion for and training in classical composition towards his symphonic progressive act, Brainblast. With Bach as an inspiration, Brainblast’s brand of technical death metal has the grandeur of Fleshgod Apocalypse, the speed of Archspire, and the virtuosity of concert musicians. Jiménez’s classical training shows — the compositions have an orchestral feel, only played at insane energy levels. The speed, the depth, and the breadth of the instrumentation are sure to leave you breathless. Nicholas Le Fou Wells (First Fragment) lays down relentless kitwork with jaw-dropping velocity, while Eetu Hernesmaa provides technical fretwork that’ll similarly leave you awestruck. He delivers sublime riffs on “Relentless Rise” and a surprising melodic lead that steals the show on “Unchain Your Soul.” Perhaps most prominent is the virtuoso play of the bass from Rich Gray (Annihilator) and Dominic Forest Lapointe (First Fragment) that is omnipresent and funky on each and every song. To top it all off is the piano (perhaps from Jiménez), giving the music some gravitas with the technical, concert-style playing. This record is just plain bonkers and tons of fun. Given this is the debut from a young musician, the idea that Brainblast has room to grow is plenty exciting.

COLOSSUS SUPREMA by BRAINBLAST

Gods of Gaia // Escape the Wonderland [November 28th, 2025 – Self Released]

If you’ve been eagerly awaiting the next SepticFlesh release, Germany’s Gods of Gaia have got you covered. Founded in 2023 by Kevin Sierra Eifert, Gods of Gaia is made up of an anonymous collective from around the world, contributing to a dark, heavy, and aggressive form of symphonic metal. Their sophomore album, Escape the Wonderland, features a collection of death metal songs with plenty of orchestral arrangements that add a dramatic flair. Along with crushing riffs and thunderous blast beats, you’ll hear choral chants (“Escape the Wonderland,” “Burn for Me”), bits of piano (“What It Takes”), and plenty of cinematic symphonics. SepticFlesh is the obvious influence, but the grandiosity of Fleshgod Apocalypse flares up on cuts like the dramatic “Rise Up.” The front half is largely aggressive, with “What It Takes” taking the energy to thrash levels. The back half dials down the energy, even creeping to near doom on “Krieg in Mir,” but never pulls back on the heaviness. Cool as the symphonic elements are, the riffs, blast beats, and brutal vocal delivery are just as impressive. Make no mistake, this is melodic death metal above all else, with symphonic seasonings that elevate it a notch. Just the opposite of what the record title suggests, this is one wonderland you won’t want to escape.

Escape the Wonderland by Gods of Gaia

Grin Reaper’s Frozen Feast

Hounds of Bayanay // КЭМ [November 15, 2025 – Self Released]

Two-and-a-half years after dropping debut Legends of the North, Hounds of Bayanay returns with КЭМ to sate your eternal lust for folk metal.1 Blending heavy metal with folk instrumentation, specifically kyrympa2 and khomus,3 as well as throat singing, Hounds of Bayanay might sound like a Tengger Cavalry or The Hu knockoff, but you’ll do yourself a disservice by writing them off. Boldly enunciated, clarion cleans belt out in confident proclamations while grittier refrains and overtones resonate beneath, proffering assorted and engaging vocal stylings. Rather than dwelling overlong in strings and tribal chanting, the deft fusion of folk instruments with traditional metal defines Hounds’ sound and feels cohesively integrated on КЭМ, providing an intimate yet heavy backdrop to a hook-laden and alluringly replayable thirty-nine minutes. In addition to the eclectic folk influence, there’s a satisfying variety of songwriting from track to track, with “Ardaq,” “Cɯsqa:n,” and “Dɔʃɔrum” exemplifying the enticing synthesis of styles. More than anything else, Hounds of Bayanay embodies heart and fun, warming my chilly days with a well-executed platter of Eastern-influenced folk metal. Don’t skip this one, or the decision could hound you.

KEM by Hounds Of Bayanay

Blood Red Throne // Siltskin [December 05, 2025 – Soulseller Records]

I’m shoving up against the deadline to wedge this one in, but Blood Red Throne’s latest deserves a mention, and bulldozing is just the sort of thing you should do while listening to BRT’s brand of bludgeoning, pit-stomping romp. Back in December, the venerable Norwegian death metal act dropped twelfth album Siltskin, maintaining their prolific and consistent release schedule. In addition to their dependable output, BRT stays the course with pummeling, brutish pomp. In his coverage of Nonagon and Imperial Congregation, Doc Grier drums up comparisons to Old Man’s Child, Panzerchrist, and Hypocrisy, and while I’m not inclined to disagree on those points, I’ll add that Siltskin also harkens to Kill-era Cannibal Corpse in its slick coalition of mid-paced slammers, warp-speed blitzes, and fat ‘n’ frolicking bass. Add to that the sly, sticky melody from the likes of Sentenced’s North from Here (“Vestigial Remnants”), and you’ve got a recipe for a righteous forty-five-minute smash-a-thon. Blood Red Throne’s last few records have been among their best, which is an incredible feat for a band this far into their career. While Siltskin doesn’t surpass BRT’s high-water mark, it keeps up, and if you’re hungry for an aural beatdown, then Blood Red Throne would like to throw their crown into the ring for consideration.

Siltskin by Blood Red Throne

Gotsu-Totsu-Kotsu // Immortality [December 17, 2025 – Bang the Head Records]

I am woefully late to the charms of Gotsu-Totsu-Kotsu, a Japanese death metal outfit prominently featuring slap ‘n’ pop bass. Had it not been for our trusty Flippered Friend, I might have continued this grievous injustice of ignorance, but thankfully, this is not the timeline to which I’m doomed. Immortality is Gotsu-Totsu-Kotsu’s seventh album, and those who enjoy the band’s previous work should remain satisfied. For new acolytes, Gotsu-Totsu-Kotsu grasps the rabid intensity of Vader and Krisiun and imbues it with a funky edge. Meaty bass rumbles and sprightly slapped accents, provided by bassist/vocalist Haruhisa Takahata, merge with Kouki Akita’s kit obliteration to establish a thunderous, unrelenting rhythm section. Atop the lower end’s heft, Keiichi Enjouji shreds and squeals with thrashy vigor and a keen understanding of melody. First proper track “Anima Immortalis” even includes gang intonations that work so well, I wish they were more prevalent across the album. The sum total of Gotsu-Totsu-Kotsu’s atmosphere is one of plucky exuberance that strikes with the force of a roundhouse kick to the dome. Had I discovered it sooner, Immortality would have qualified for a 2025 year-end honorable mention, as I haven’t been able to stop spinning it or the band’s prior releases.4 Though I’m still in the honeymoon phase, I expect this platter to live on in my listening, and recommend you not miss this GTK killer like I almost did.

Thus Spoke’s Random Revelations

The Algorithm // Recursive Infinity [November 21st, 2025 – Self Released]

I’ve been a fan of The Algorithm since the early days, back when their electronica-djent was almost twee in its experimental joy, spliced with light-hearted samples. Over the years, Rémi Gallego has tuned his flair for mesmeric, playful compositions to develop a richer, more streamlined sound. Recursive Infinity continues the recent upward trend Data Renaissance began. With riffs and rhythms the slickest since Brute Force, and melodies the brightest and most colourful since equally-prettily adorned Polymorphic Code, it’s a cyberpunk tour-de-force. The wildness is trained, chunky heaviness grounding magnetic melodies (“Race Condition,” “Mutex,” “By Design”), dense chugging transitioning seamlessly into techno (“Advanced Iteration Technique,” “Hollowing,” “Graceful Degradation), and adding bite to bubbly, candy-coloured soundscapes (“Rainbow Table,”). The skittering of breakbeats tempers synthwave (“Endless Iteration), and bright pulses wrap cascading electro-core (“Race Condition,” “Mutex”) and orchestral melodrama (“Recursive Infinity”). It’s often strongly reminiscent of some point in The Algorithm’s history, but everything is upgraded from charming to entrancing. This provides a new way to interpret Recursive Infinity: not just a reference to an endless loop in general, but to Boucle Infinie (Infinite Loop)—Remi’s other musical project—and by extension, The Algorithm themselves. Yet he is still experimenting, including vocoder vocals (“Endless Iteration,” “By Design”) for a surprisingly successful dark-Daft Punk vibe in slower, moodier moments. With nostalgic throwbacks transformed so beautifully, and the continued evolution, there’s simply no way I can ignore The Algorithm now. And neither should you.

Recursive Infinity by The Algorithm

Owlswald’s Holiday Scraps

Sun of the Suns // Entanglement [December 12th, 2025 – Scarlet Records]

Bands and labels take heed—We reserve December for two things: Listurnalia and celebrating another trip around the sun. It is not for releasing new music. Yet this blunder persists, ensuring we inevitably miss gems like Sun of the Suns’ sophomore effort, Entanglement.5 The record dropped just as the world was tuning out for the year, and it deserves much better. Building on the foundation of their 2021 debut, TIIT, the Italian trio has significantly beefed up their progressive death formula. Mixing tech-death articulation with deathcore brutality, Entanglement ensures fans of Fallujah will feel right at home with its effervescent clean melodies and crystalline textures. Francesca Paoli (Fleshgod Apocalypse) returns to provide another masterclass behind the kit with rapid-fire double-bass, blasts, and tom fills, while guitarists Marco Righetti and Ludovico Cioffi deliver cosmic shredding and radiant solos that are both technical and deliberate. While the early tracks lean into Fallujahian songcraft and Tesseract-style arpeggios, the album shines brightest late when the group largely sheds its stylistic orbit. “Please, Blackout My Eyes” pivots toward a majestic Aeternam vibe with ethereal tech-death incisiveness, while “One With the Sun” and “The Void Where Sound Ends Its Path” hit like a sledgehammer with Xenobiotic’s deathcore grooves. Though Luca Dave Scarlatti’s vocals lack differentiation, the sheer quality of the compositions carries the weight, proving Sun of the Suns are much more than mere clones.

Entanglement by Sun Of The Suns

After waiting seventeen years to release their debut full-length, Norwegian progressive metal act Course of Fate is now three albums in since 2020. I missed their sophomore release in 2023—I’m actually just learning it exists as I type this—so I was especially excited to see this group back in action. Mindweaver was a delight of an album, the kind of release that hums with potential and makes you eager to see what a band is going to do next. Evidently, I missed what Course of Fate did next, but now that Behind the Eclipse is here and audible, I’m no less excited to share that they haven’t missed a step.

Course of Fate are still very much Course of Fate, though the sound I remember from Mindweaver has morphed into something altogether more aggressive and impactful. Kenneth Henriksen and Fredrik Jacobsen’s guitars are louder and rougher around the edges, and bass by Torstein Guttormsen is fully audible through most of Behind the Eclipse. Their core sound—a heavy backdrop supported by lush drumming (Per-Morten Bergseth) and memorable, just-melodic-enough riffs counterbalanced by Eivind Gunnesen’s smooth singing—is still there, but even the singing is more aggressive than I remember, with the odd growl thrown in for good measure. There is a sense of care to the songwriting, evident in the quiet keys and strings, and the storytelling in the lyrics to songs like “Behind the Eclipse,” the titanic opener1 with an epic chorus and huge resolution that gets stuck in your head for days after you hear it.

There’s a sense of melancholic anger throughout Behind the Eclipse; Course of Fate are very much at home in frustration and sorrow, though their compositions are as lively as ever. “Acolyte,” for example, opens with a quiet piano lead that builds to an aggressive, almost thrashy riff. Gunnesen is loud here, fitting in so well with the music, right up to the chorus—then things slow. The piano returns, and his performance turns introspective. Then, as soon as it’s over, Course of Fate is back to its fiery self. The balance is impressive and shows up again throughout. Closer “Neverwhere” is another classic Course of Fate exploration, a song that builds and builds from bitter reflections to soaring interludes to its massive chorus and beyond. As with Mindweaver, there is an emotive core to Behind the Eclipse that gives it genuine staying power (and once again, the ballad is one of the best songs, this time in the form of “Don’t Close Your Eyes”).

There are only a few moments throughout Behind the Eclipse where the aforementioned balance of aggression and melancholy doesn’t quite come together, and in these moments, it becomes “merely” good metal. “Sky Is Falling” is a fine song, but it comes in a little strong for my tastes, while “Hiding from the Light” takes a slower, less immediate approach that initially had me wondering if Course of Fate didn’t have some metalcore influences. It isn’t metalcore—I can’t stress that enough—but the balance isn’t quite there, at least not to my ears. With that said, the solo guitar work in “Sky Is Falling” is one of the coolest moments on Behind the Eclipse, and I love the use of growls in “Hiding from the Light.” Every song has something going for it, and this is in large part due to the fact that Course of Fate are strong performers and great songwriters. As a bonus, eight tracks spanning forty-five minutes make it hard to lose interest at any point.

So I’d say Course of Fate have done it again—they’ve kick-started my year with an impressive showing of progressive metal that I expect to come back to often as the year goes on. Behind the Eclipse is a well-written, cathartic, and empowering album that is fun to listen to. I could argue it’s a little uneven, but it never dips below “good” and often reaches “great.” It seems that Course of Fate are finding their groove—not to mention a consistent release schedule—and I couldn’t be happier for it.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Roar! Rock of Angels Records
Websites: facebook.com/courseoffate
Releases Worldwide: January 30th, 2026

Mayhem’s reputation will forever be linked to their early days, inescapably tethered to the chaos of death. While it’s impossible not to acknowledge those grisly events when considering the band’s legacy, they detract from the unyielding musical vision Mayhem has etched into metal mythology. From the beginning, Mayhem has been at the forefront as one of black metal’s tastemakers and breath-takers. Over four decades in, Mayhem returns with Liturgy of Death—a fitting subject considering the band’s sordid origins and their penchant for metaphysical musings. This far into their career, does Mayhem still command the black metal magic that has shaped the genre for decades?

Before Mysteriisly disappearing, Diabolus in Muzaka astutely observed in Daemon’s review, ‘Mayhem’s career is an anthology, not an arc.’ This neatly summarizes the band’s approach, as they take their time to craft each album around a central motif. Sure, there’s been discourse around the direction they take at times, and while not every album pleases every fan, I can’t deny that each time Mayhem releases a new LP, I’m reliably presented with a fully committed statement. On Liturgy of Death, Mayhem unravels the threads of mortality and, from various perspectives, examines fate’s inexorable call, confronting one of life’s unifying truths with cold clarity.

Liturgy of Death (24-bit HD audio) by Mayhem

Musically, Mayhem is in top form throughout Liturgy of Death, with each musician discharging devastating drama. Attila Csihar delivers an inspired performance, croaking and growling in animalistic throes and belting out grandiose, operatic cleans that are jarring yet effective (“Despair”). His diverse stylings cover an extensive array of emotions surrounding death’s isolating embrace, from primal denial to stoic acceptance, and throughout Attila oozes poise and pathos. Instrumentally, Mayhem’s rhythm section drives Liturgy of Death’s momentum with unabashed candor, rarely reaching for frills or frippery while impressing with unapologetic assuredness. Hellhammer pounds and pummels with punishing grooves, maintaining steady blast beats for herculean stretches (“Ephemeral Eternity,” “Aeon’s End”) and bursting forth with exacting fills and skull-battering rolls when needed (“Propitious Death”). Necrobutcher wields the bass with a malicious punch, rumbling with dour fluidity and occasionally thrumming into the spotlight (“Realm of Endless Misery”). Guitarists Teloch and Ghul torch proceedings with six-string truculence, whipping out spidery riffs (“Weep for Nothing”) in between furious, second-wave trems (“Funeral of Existence”) and erratic solos (“Aeon’s End”). Liturgy of Death culminates in “The Sentence of Absolution,” Mayhem’s most powerful closer to date. After a slow-build intro, dissonant guitars bleat as Hellhammer’s calculated fury propels the track into swirling, hypnotic rhythms that fade into tribal drumming and chanting, climaxing in a restrained denouement that’s unparalleled in Mayhem’s oeuvre.1

Considering the strength of Mayhem’s thematic and musical execution, Liturgy of Death leaves little fault to find. At a reasonable forty-nine minutes, the Norwegian outfit’s latest offering crams in oodles of ideas and perspectives. Given the aural onslaught on tap, the mix affords ample space to discern what the guitars, bass, and drums are doing while the vocals retain presence and coherence. At its busiest, Liturgy of Death can sound compressed and overloud, but these moments are rare and don’t distract or overwhelm.2 Otherwise, the only drawback to a composition this dense is that it’s easy to let Mayhem’s subtle wiles slip past during casual spins. I enjoyed Liturgy of Death from the outset, but only after multiple active listens did I come to truly appreciate its dizzying ambition. This ultimately acts as a boon for Liturgy, as dedicated time with it rewards listeners with a surfeit of concepts and conclusions, and leaves me wanting to replay it once more as soon as the last track ends.

With Liturgy of Death, Mayhem presents a tightly wound and philosophical composition on one of life’s most unsettling inevitabilities, and in doing so continues to defy AMG’s Law of Diminishing Recordings™. Above all, Mayhem endures, reaffirming their place amongst metal’s most lionized acts, bearing a relevant and thought-provoking theme that’s as inescapable as it is multifaceted. Never content to compromise, Mayhem once again demonstrates why they’re the standard so many black metal bands are measured by. It’s always refreshing to see influential bands muster this kind of success so far into their careers. Don’t take my word for it, though—grab your corpse paint and go get liturgical!

Rating: Excellent
DR: N/A | Format Reviewed: De Misery Dom Streamthanas
Label: Century Media Records
Websites: Website | Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: February 6th, 2026