#notmetal — Public Fediverse posts

Now—as summer blasts the Earth into a fly-ridden heath—is when I long most for fall. So I get why Patrik Andersson Winberg’s (Dun Ringill, Doomdogs) new solo project Mirror of My Soul would debut this June with October Is Rising.1 A folk project empowered with hard rock muscle and gothic gravitas, Mirror of My Soul aims for atmospheric storytelling and organic song structuring. Joined by drummers Pete Campbell (Axe Dragger, ex-Pentagram) and Tobbe Strandvik, keyboardist Per Wiberg (Tiamat, ex-Opeth), guitarist Patric Grammann (Dun Ringill) and a whole host of vocalists,2 October Is Rising is poised to be an introspective, moody, and engrossing trek through rustic moods and colder temps. But is this album autumn’s light at the end of the tunnel, or is there no relief from summer to be found here?

October Is Rising is a clinic on complementary musicianship. Working within gothic country, folk, and blues rock, October Is Rising lives in slow, sparse compositions that won’t wow listeners with panache. Songs like “A Good Day to Die” and “The Owl” use simple guitar and banjo parts, respectively, to set the stage for spirited vocal performances, while “October Is Rising” and “Grandpa” utilize particularly minimal instrumentation to highlight their singers’ stories. Mirror of My Soul can rip it when necessary, as heard on the Jethro Tullesque flute riffing on “Mina Fotavtryck” and the slick hi-hat work on “Dancing Slowly on the Porch,” but October Is Rising’s musical prowess lies less in individual performance and more in band dynamics. “Lost in the Red Wine” and “The One Who Sings the Songs” pulse in ways that sneakily build and bounce off their individual parts to sound a lot bigger than their thin instrumentation would imply. Mirror of My Soul is composed of industry veterans, and it sounds like it; these guys bring out the best in each other.

Setting rich moods and storytelling are Mirror of My Soul’s game. They’re pros at it. October Is Rising is a pensive autumnal stroll through gloom with the sort of eerie coziness that at varying times reminded me of Fields of the Nephilim, Current 93, and the Over the Garden Wall soundtrack.3 Soundscapes of pale light and fresh darkness bestow tracks like “The Painter,” “Grandpa,” and “Tree on that Hill” a deeply affecting and melancholic quality, shaped by the aforementioned stark instrumentation and poignant vocals. October Is Rising is littered with pathos-imbued bars delivered with conviction, where phrases as obtuse as “The bad news was a feather from a dead bird” (“The Letter”) hit with the sensitivity of straightforward heart-wrenchers like “The trees showed me how to make it all last. There is no future without a vivid past” (“Tree on that Hill”). Mirror of My Soul bring everything you’d want from a singer-songwriter project musically: bittersweet strolls down memory lane, deep into introspection.

October Is Rising listens like a work of singular vision, but not of one voice. There are no bad singers on October Is Rising, mind you, and the diverse cast can be a boon. There aren’t many records out there that can, in one moment, recall Alice in Chains (“Coyote”) and Peter Gabriel the next (“Tree on that Hill”),4 Lou Reed one minute (“Carry Your Soul”) and Johnny Cash another (“A Good Day to Die”). But this committee approach also deprives October Is Rising of singer-songwriter music’s strongest aspect: the intimate conversation between artist and audience. It’s hard to think of Mirror of My Soul as Winberg’s personal exploration of a gloaming Earth when you have to adjust to a new singer every song. October Is Rising still feels cohesive thanks to Winberg’s consistent and compelling songwriting, but I believe one or two good singers would’ve made the record connect that much better.

Mirror of My Soul bring the wistfulness of autumn on October Is Rising. Tight musicianship and smart songwriting carry the listener through Winberg’s stories, sometimes outlandish and always engaging. Though I think one singer would’ve made Mirror of My Soul a more focused entity—or perhaps one singer across every song à la Tobias Sammet of Avantastia—October Is Rising is nevertheless a greatly enjoyable work that I could confidently recommend to anyone interested in gothic rock/country/folk. At the very least, when the upcoming months get hot as balls, it’ll be a good reminder that, in the near future, October Is Rising indeed.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: WAV
Label: Majestic Mountain Records
Websites: mirrorofmysoul.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/mirrorofmysoul
Releases Worldwide: June 12, 2026

Halocraft – The Sky Will Remember / To Leave a Single Wolf Alive [Things You Might Have Missed 2025]

By Killjoy

I find the idea of double albums fascinating. While in many cases they may indicate an unchecked surge of inspiration or an unwillingness to self-edit, there are instances when the decision can feel genuinely appropriate. Halocraft, a (mostly) instrumental post-rock quartet from Greece, opted to split the final entry of a multi-album story into two parallel endings. According to their respective Bandcamp pages, The Sky Will Remember is the “imaginary happy ending,” whereas To Leave a Single Wolf Alive is the “true dark ending.” Aside from this brief description, the song titles, and sparse lyrics, Halocraft relies solely on their music to tell both sides of this narrative.

Halocraft’s “music first, atmosphere second” approach serves them well. It’s hard not to let oneself be borne away by the dreamy, leisurely guitar lines, which bear a fair resemblance to God Is an Astronaut or Black Narcissus. The Sky Will Remember is much closer to the cheerful, upbeat nature of Halocraft’s prior two full-lengths, with tons of tunes that are sticky-sweet but somehow never cloying. On the other hand, To Leave a Single Wolf Alive is a significant deviation from Halocraft’s usual style. Aside from its noticeably darker tone, it’s less reliant on hooks and, therefore, its slower burn took me a little longer to appreciate. Careful attention to both records will reveal subtle, whimsical bass counterpoints to the twin guitars.

The real strength of Halocraft’s songwriting is favoring clearly defined melodies over the sprawling free-form tendencies common in the post-rock genre. The songs loosely adhere to the tried and true pop structure, with verses and choruses that just happen to be instrumental in this case. I am, personally, partial toward The Sky Will Remember. Tracks such as “A Headful of Dreams,” “And in That Light, I Saw You,” and “Particle” never fail to lift my spirits. To Leave a Single Wolf Alive is there when I’m in the mood for something more melancholic but equally pleasant. While it does lean more heavily on repetition, there are moments that stand out, such as the slithering grooves of “And the Weak Suffer What They Must” and the faint goth-rock shades of “They Rest in Flames.” Though very different from one another, both albums are versatile enough to excel in the foreground and the background.

After spending nearly a year with both, I can confidently say that Halocraft has accomplished the difficult and paradoxical task of making two opposite yet complementary records. The Sky Will Remember and To Leave a Single Wolf Alive are a refreshing reversal of many instrumental post-rock norms, like meandering songwriting and lack of meaningful melodies. They are so easy to listen to and enjoy, no matter what mood I find myself in. I may connect with The Sky Will Remember more, but I appreciate Halocraft’s willingness and capability to expand their sound into darker avenues on To Leave a Single Wolf Alive. My hope is that on their next record they can take both of these disparate strands and weave them together. For now, though, you can’t go wrong with either choice.

Tracks to Check Out (The Sky Will Remember): “A Headful of Dreams,” “And in That Light, I Saw You”

Tracks to Check Out (To Leave a Single Wolf Alive): “And the Weak Suffer What They Must,” “They Rest in Flames”

#2025 #blackNarcissus #godIsAnAstronaut #greekMetal #halocraft #instrumentalMetal #notMetal #postRock #selfRelease #theSkyWillRemember #thingsYouMightHaveMissed2025 #toLeaveASingleWolfAlive #tymhm

Antinoë – The Fold Review

By Tyme

As the whispering winds of winter begin to blow colder through my neck of the woods, a time of year when fires get cozier, quaffed beers get darker, and we here at AMG begin to rhapsodize on things missed and regale readers with things listed, I found myself still searching for a near-end-of-year something new. When I saw Antinoë’s Dark Essence Records debut, The Fold, blurbily described as ‘Neoclassical Folk meets melancholy Pop with a Metal attitude,’ I was intrigued. Descending from the mountains of Madrid, Antinoë is the passion project of pianist and vocalist Teresa Marraco. Launched in 2021, Antinoë’s 2023 release, Whispers from the Dark Past, offered a unique piano tribute to the 90s Norwegian black metal scene, with Marraco covering everything from Emperor’s “I Am the Black Wizards” to Mayhem’s “Life Eternal” and Dimmu Borgir’s “Mourning Palace.”1 Poised to challenge the very fluid boundaries of what metal can be, let’s see if The Fold has the warmth necessary to keep those wintery winds at bay.

Void of instrumental trappings associated with most traditional metal, Antinoë relies solely on Marraco’s beautifully resonant voice and her expansive piano compositions to weave stygian tapestries. Conceptually, The Fold navigates the odyssey of accepting death, inviting listeners to tread a path through the idiomatic depths of grief’s different stages, as it traces the process of ‘folding inward.’ From the outset, as cricket-song fades into “Night Falls,” with its delicately crafted, darkly haunting piano melody and celestial vocals, the track pulls at melancholy heartstrings, drawing you into Antinoë’s dark world and setting the stage for what’s to come. The Fold offers an immersive, piano-led experience, peppered with pummeled ivories that shift with metallic force beneath sustained choral harmonies (“The Devil’s Voice”), as wispy trails of folky, Enya-esque ambiance waft amid airy, Dead Can Dance-like atmospheres (“Når Du Dør”). Not unlike Darkher, Antinoë succeeds at tapping into inscrutable emotion by minimalist means, but where Maiven casts spells webbed in doom, Marraco’s magic leans more toward the black arts.

While Antinoë draws much of its ‘metal’ from lyrical themes that explore the dense nature of grief and death, that doesn’t mean The Fold is musically bereft of heavier fare. Death angels descend on Emperor wings with halos of Dimmu Borgir to hover over the opening chords of “Threshold,” heralding dark omens in a chorus of swarming harmonies, witchy laughter, and raspy breaths, all as Antinoë pounds and trills her way through octaves in true symphonic black metal fashion.2 Is it still just a girl and her piano? Yes, but it’s by far the ‘heaviest’ song on the album. Which gives way to the excellently murky pop of “Chaos in the Sky,” another album highlight that had my neck snapped to rapt attention when Marracos, in her smoky voice, opened with “Who the fuck are you? Who the fuck am I?” like some dark-alt Adele, creating another moment more metal than not.

Drenched in warmth, The Fold’s production captures the beauty of Antinoë’s neo-classical elegance and marries it perfectly to its atmospherically blackened weight, providing a full-on musical experience. Whether it’s the delicate last minute of “The Devil’s Voice,” which flirts with a “Lágnætti” melody, off the Sólstafir magnum opus Ottá, or the inquisitive, childlike mystery of the whispers and keys on “Flock,” to the somber dirge of vocals from “Light Bringer,” listening to Antinoë is to become utterly immersed. I have little to critique, so enamored am I by Antinoë’s ability to impart complex ideas in the simplest of terms. I suppose there’s a minute or two that Marraco could have shaved from the two instrumentals, but in all honesty, there’s not a minute of The Fold that I would cut or change.

One of the things I’ve always appreciated about AMG is its fearlessness in shedding light on bands that are categorically not metal. Case in point, among many, is Dolphin Whisperer’s review of Maud the Moth’s excellent The Distaff this year. Antinoë has recorded an emotional album for healing hearts, and as I look back on the last few years of losses I’ve experienced, I’m unsurprised by how impactful it’s been to me. I wasn’t expecting something of this caliber to come sweeping in so close to list season, but here we are. I’ll gladly wrap myself in a warm blanket next to a cozy fire, slip on my favorite pair of headphones, and sip a smoky porter while letting The Fold envelop me against the impending winter’s chill.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Dark Essence Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: November 21st, 2025

#2025 #40 #ambient #antinoe #darkher #deadCanDance #dimmuBorgir #emperor #enya #notMetal #nov25 #piano #review #spanishMetal #theFold

Dax Riggs – 7 Songs for Spiders Review

By Grymm

It’s a weird fact of life to experience this, but ask anyone with creative tendencies, whether dabbling or full-on submersion, what their biggest fear is, and many (if not all) will tell you that hating the very thing that gives you life and joy will be at the top. Burnout murders the love one has for everything they enjoy making,1 and sometimes the elixir one needs is time and distance away. That time and distance could be days, or it could stretch to months or years. Dax Riggs, the influential voice of his eponymous band as well as the frontman for the recently-reactivated legendary Louisiana sludge beast Acid Bath, took 15 years away from the music world shortly after the release of 2010’s Say Goodnight to the World, and seemingly lived up to that album’s title by disappearing off the face of the world. His recent resurfacing to announce the resurrection of Acid Bath and the release of 7 Songs for Spiders was a massive surprise to everyone that absolutely nobody predicted in late 2024.

That surprise is welcome, however, as 7SfS not only acts as a familiar, cozy blanket of bluesy folk-rock goodness but is a tremendous welcome back from one of Louisiana’s most talented voices. Within seconds of “Deceiver” and its fuzzed-out opening riff, Riggs and company teleport your happy ass back to the swamps of their neighborhood, sounding simultaneously familiar and fresh. While Riggs remains comfortable in his lyrical wheelhouse, combining stream-of-consciousness wordplay with storytelling that’s both autobiographical and metaphorical, his voice has shown a greater warmth (if that was possible) from his previous albums, howling “Ain’t no great deceiver/Ain’t no bride of Jesus either” with infectious intent.

It doesn’t hurt that he’s got an incredible backing band. The way Scott Domingue lays down a hypnotic trance-like percussive groove on closer “Graveyard Soul” should be studied in a master class for building up tension and heft. Kane Cormier’s bass, while not flashy, does a tremendous job of keeping to pockets of groove, poking his head out every now and then to elevate moments of songs like towards the ending of “Blues for You Know Who”. Guitarist Lucas Broussard’s melodies and synth work complement Riggs’ voice and riffs, not being too flashy or subdued, but rather playing up to the strength and aura of the song. But once again, Riggs’ smokey, warm howl leads the fray, singing tales of the dead, the mysteries of the night, and the darker side of life in a captivating and enthralling way from beginning to end.

What hurts the aforementioned aura a bit, though, is the production. While the warmth is present, the mix feels a little bit squashed, especially in some of Domingue’s drums and Cormier’s basslines. The only other beef I have with 7SfS lies in its length. I will be the first (and loudest) to complain when an album needs some serious trimming. In this case, at a scant, brisk 28 minutes, it flies right by. Granted, that’s not so much a bad thing, but when an artist is away for 15 years, that brevity will leave the listener wanting more, especially when the music being offered is this good.

And I don’t know if “good” is a strong enough descriptor of what’s on offer on 7 Songs for Spiders. To quote a popular modern saying in regards to the music of Dax Riggs, if you know, you know. This is a tremendous welcome back from one of the most unsung modern voices of rock and metal, and you would do yourself a disservice if you pass this one by. Crank this for your jumping spider, tarantula, cat, dog, parakeet, neighbor, roommate, friends, family, and yourself. Y’all deserve a nice, happy treat every now and then.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: v1 mp3
Label: Fat Possum Records
Websites: daxriggs.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/@officialdaxriggs
Releases Worldwide: January 24th, 2025

Show 1 footnote

1. Ask me sometime. ↩

#2025 #40 #7SongsForSpiders #AcidBath #AmericanMetal #BluesRock #DaxRiggs #FatPossumRecords #Jan25 #NotMetal #ProtoMetal #Review #Reviews

Now that I have posted their "Part 1" vinyl today, it just seems fitting to toot a song from that album in @loehwe's #MusicWomenWednesday:

i Häxa: Underworld

https://song.link/YFE-i_Haxa-Underworld

The whole haunting video for the EP has been linked.

#NotMetal

FFO #JulieChristmas, #GUHTS, #SHRVL