#nov25 — Public Fediverse posts

Sun of the Dying – A Throne of Ashes Review

By Thus Spoke

Autumn is well and truly here, so it’s about time I reviewed some doom. Though my ears have been diverted towards certain listworthy death/black drops these past few weeks, the pull of the gloom grows stronger in proportion with the shortening of the days. But rather than the icy climes of Scandinavia, or wintry North America, or even rainy old England, my long-awaited dose of darkness came from Spain. In less than three-quarters of an hour, Madrid’s Sun of the Dying proved that you don’t need miserable, cold weather to make music about misery. A Throne of Ashes, the group’s third LP, is a bold, strong, and stirring mélange of death-doom styles that both filled the void in my musical life and made me downright embarrassed not to have listened to them before.

Sun of the Dying borrow from across the spectrum to craft their compositions, creating richly layered soundscapes. Gracing soaring melodies with dolorous piano, they channel Swallow the Sun on the highs, and Endonomos on the lows. Sweetly sad strings and soft singing recall My Dying Bride, and a duet over warm, vibrating chords and resonant atmosphere Draconian.1 But all this familiarity detracts not one iota from the authenticity of A Throne of Ashes; if anything, it makes it easier to love. By combining the best aspects of these influences with a heavy dose of character, Sun of the Dying make them their own, constructing a powerful whole that simply oozes feeling and personality.

As an indicator of how well A Throne of Ashes communicates emotion by way of staggering death-doom, it contains not just one, but two Song-o-the-year list contenders. Contender one, opener “Martyrs,” had me sitting back in my chair completely still, to give it my full attention. Its graceful dynamism between uplifting guitars and hushed cymbal, narrated by Eduardo Guilló’s beautiful singing and untempered roars, is matched for pathos only by fellow highlight “House of Asterion.” The latter leans into the orchestral more heavily, accenting melancholy descents with ever more dramatic flourishes of strings in a way designed to stamp them into the listener’s heart. These two exemplify Sun of the Dying’s knack for creating depth of feeling and composition with careful weaving of delicacy and sturdiness— the mark of all great doom. As refrains pass between piano, synths, and guitar, they wax, wane, and build gracefully. Spacious resonance over which solo piano (“With Wings Aflame,” “Of Absence”) or strumming, or the sounds of someone sobbing (“Of Absence”) float over and bleed into, prefigures or breaks the gradual escalation into screaming strings (“The House of Asterion”), or white-hot tremolo (“Martyrs”), or the blows of shuddering riff and cymbal (“The Longest Winter,” “Of Absence”). The fullness of even the quieter moments, with bittersweet melodies detailed with touches of choir and orchestrals and multi-tracked vocals and the warm heartbeat of percussion, makes the experience powerfully immersive, heightening the climaxes and deepening the nadirs.

So strong is Sun of the Dying’s ability to draw its listener in and wring their heart out that one almost forgives their occasional structural missteps. Advance track “Black Birds Beneath Your Sky” is a crushing slab of comparatively aggressive doom-death whose string-swelling, group-sung chorus yet exemplifies most explicitly the anthemic feel that other songs hint at. It’s a good song—particularly in its more soaring second act—but it sits awkwardly between the mournful “Martyrs” and “With Wings Aflame,” suddenly brushing aside the rapturous mist of sadness only for it to descend again right after. Its mood-breaking grit is echoed, albeit faintly, by “The Greatest Winter,”‘s more grey and stolid riffing, and there’s the quiet sensation that the pair don’t quite belong with their more sombre companions. Without them, however, the album would be very short, and so rather than removing them, their use of dark and light, soft and heavy elements might simply need to be adjusted.

Even if its atmosphere isn’t perfectly sealed, A Throne of Ashes proves transportive and engrossing all the same. Heartfelt and compelling, it distils an ideal of modern doom and had me scrambling to hear Sun of the Dying’s back catalogue. Don’t let the year end without a walk on a grey day and A Throne of Ashes in your ears.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320kbps mp3
Label: AOP Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: November 21st, 2025

#2025 #35 #aThroneOfAshes #aopRecords #deathDoom #doomMetal #draconian #endonomos #myDyingBride #nov25 #review #reviews #spanishMetal #sunOfTheDying #swallowTheSun

Waldgeflüster – Knochengesänge I and Knochengesänge II Review

By Killjoy

Waldgeflüster has been around for a while. Based in Bavaria, Germany and led by Winterherz, they’ve been weaving nature-themed atmospheric black metal since 2009. Waldgeflüster has passed through the hands of several atmoblack aficionados before me. El Cuervo enjoyed the Panopticon/Waldgeflüster split in 2016 but was less impressed by Ruinen later that year. Doom_et_Al found 2021’s Dahoam to be disappointing and unmemorable. Waldgeflüster used the four years since then to create double albums Knochengesänge I and Knochengesänge II. I is a more traditional atmoblack record, while II is a reconstruction of the same melodies from the standpoint of various non-metal musical genres. An intriguing idea, to be sure. Is Knochengesänge so nice you’ll want to listen to it twice?

That may not be entirely accurate because, despite being born from the same place, Knochengesänge I and II grew into very different beasts. I will sound much more familiar to those who know Waldgeflüster’s prior work. It shares a deep kinship with the folksy trem-picking of Panopticon, not to mention that both groups put out double albums this year. Austin and Bekah Lunn even directly contributed their musical and photographic talents to Knochengesänge. II is a patchwork of different musical styles. It ranges from acoustic folk (“Das Klagelied der Krähen”) to overcast post-rock (“Frankfurt, 19. März,” “The Little King and His Architect”) to semi-upbeat alt-rock (“A Crusade in the Dark”). Both records conclude with different renditions of the traditional Scottish song “The Parting Glass.”

Knochengesänge I sees Waldgeflüster attempting to escape the shadow of similar, more influential atmospheric black metal groups. It’s telling that, despite the band’s longevity, no AMG writer to date has ever tagged Waldgeflüster in another band’s review as a reference point. Indeed, much of I passes uneventfully in a Harakiri for the Sky haze, but I tend to like it best when Waldgeflüster adds their own folksy flavor. The melodies of “Der kleinste König und sein Architekt” are especially crisp, and the song really comes into its own at the end when it transitions to a warm folk section with hearty clean singing and subtle violin strings. Charlie Anderson’s violin appears frequently, adding a great deal of poignancy. “Knochengesang” and “Bamberg, 20. Juni” are other notable examples of Waldgeflüster using strings to elevate their sound.

Since this is a double album, you already know what the primary flaw of Knochengesänge is—bloat. However, the problem runs deeper than mere minute count. Even if each track were halved in length, many would still have an uphill battle maintaining my attention. This is the case with both parts but particularly true of II, most of which seemed to drag on for an eternity. The greatest exception is “Singing of Bones” almost at the very end of II, a pleasant folk number with acoustic guitar and violin working in tandem. Even though II is all over the place stylistically, most of it isn’t so wildly different from I that it couldn’t have conceivably been integrated. I even tried reordering the tracks into each album’s corresponding pairs and found that many covered each other’s weaknesses decently well (again, except for bloat), which supports my suspicion that these two mediocre albums could have been distilled into one really good album.

Knochengesänge began with an interesting double album premise that, sadly, yielded little of note during its 109-minute combined runtime. I and II may be highly symmetrical but they are only mildly codependent. I can’t recommend listening to them back to back and, in fact, II can be safely disregarded by most listeners. Fans of the Panopticon aesthetic should find enough to enjoy in I, but it may fall a bit flat for everyone else, especially given that newcomers like Autrest are offering a much more potent take on this type of atmoblack. A frustrating refusal to self-edit is what holds both records back the most; nearly every track is 8 minutes or longer, and few fully justify their length. I respect Waldgeflüster’s desire to explore new musical avenues and I’ll keep an eye on them in the future, but I don’t expect to return much to Knochengesänge.

Rating: I: 2.5/5.0 | II: 2.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: AOP Records
Websites: blackmetalwaldgefluester.bandcamp.com | waldgefluester.com | facebook.com/blackmetalwaldgefluester
Releases Worldwide: November 7th, 2025

#20 #25 #2025 #AOPRecords #AtmosphericBlackMetal #Autrest #FolkMetal #GermanMetal #HarakiriForTheSky #KnochengesängeI #KnochengesängeII #NotMetal #Nov25 #Panopticon #Review #Reviews #Waldgeflüster

Glorious Depravity – Death Never Sleeps Review

By Steel Druhm

Death metal from New York City is usually plenty ugly enough, but in the strange case of Glorious Depravity, things get even more grotesque due to the band members’ connection to acts like Pyrrhon and Woe. Their 2020 debut Ageless Violence was a solid if non-essential homage to the Godz of Floridan Death with plenty of Morbid Angel and Deicide DNA in its unnatural makeup. Five years later, they serve up Death Never Sleeps with a sound profile still wearing Orlando-friendly cargo shorts, and hidden in those oversized pockets are elements of grindcore. This is ugly, slimy death for fugly, unwashed folks who throw empty beer cans at meth heads for cheap thrills. The only thing remotely classy about it is the badass cover art from Dan Seagrave, and that’s just fine by me. I’m not here to attend Finishing School or my court-mandated Anger Management workshop. I’m here to blast death metal and scare the normies, and so is Glorious Depravity. Twinsies!

The Depravity Boys come out hard on opener “Slaughter the Gerontocrats” with feverish riffs ripping skin and pasting bones as Pyrrhon’s Doug Moore vomits a world full of hate and venom on the listener. Some of the leads reek of vintage Mordid Angel, but this is more unhinged and closer to grind and even slam at times. Moore uncorks some truly rancid garbage disposal voKILLS and piercing shrieks, making this like an insane asylum in a hobo wine bottle. Things go a bit wonky on follow-up “Stripmined Flesh Extractor” with an awkward shuffling tempo that doesn’t fully work, thus squandering some of the crucial momentum created by the opener. From there, it’s a back and forth between well-executed death that hammer smashes your face and lesser cuts that have good moments but don’t disembowel you as they should. “Sulfurous Winds (Howling Through Christendom)” is a wild ride through the tombs where Morbid Angel buried their unused (and well-used) riffs, and Moore’s repeated roars about “SCIENCE” are fun in an old school Thomas Dolby way.1 “Scourged by the Wings of the Fell Destroyer” is also fine and dandy, hitting in that 1990 Floridan death way but with overtones of Kataklysm due to the screeching vocals.

My favorite moment arrives with “Necrobiotic Enslavement,” where the Morbid influence is especially notable in the heaving, lurching riffs that reek of overflowing ash Treys. While the good parts of Death Never Sleeps are respectable and entertaining, nothing here will completely blow your mind, and the lesser bits are Debbie Downers. “Freshkills Poltergeist” shoehorns in pinch harmonics that are more annoying than interesting, and “Carnage at the Margins” gets very screamy and ends up grating the nerves instead of power drilling the Medusa Oblongata. You end up with an album of mostly solid death with generic and underwhelming additions tacked on, which is disappointing for a band with the pedigree Glorious Depravity bring to the Geneology Council.

I’ll give Doug Moore props for his batshit crazy vocal performance. The guy is all over the lot with screams, shrieks, sub-basement gurgles, and standard death barks. He can do it all and proves it on every track, whether it’s needed or not. Sometimes he’s a dead ringer for Kataklysm’s Maurizio Iacono, and occasionally he sounds like young Mille of Kreator infamy. George Paul (Gravesend) and Matt Mewton (Woe) resurrect many riffs from the place where the slime live, and though it’s easy to spot their inspirations, I can’t fault much of what they throw down on the slab. There are a goodly number of face-melting leads and some completely insane solo pieces, too. Chris Grigg (Woe) brings a technical yet brutal force to the kit, pounding away like his life depends on it. The band is talented, but the writing sometimes lacks staying power and leans generic. At a tight 34 minutes, a lot of that can be forgiven as the good replaces the okay in short and savage order, but the lesser additions do drag the overall enjoyment factor down a few pegs.

Glorious Depravity gives a bunch of New York low-life bastards a chance to do things outside the lines of what their main gigs allow, and you can tell they’re having fun throwing shit against the subway wall. There’s nothing essential or “must hear” present, but it’s solid ratmeat and scumtaters for the diseased, and that may be enough for those fiends.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Transcending Obscurity
Websites: facebook.com/gloriousdepravity | instagram.com/gloriousdepravity
Releases Worldwide: November 7th, 2025

#2025 #30 #AgelessViolence #AmericanMetal #DeathMetal #DeathNeverSleeps #Deicide #GloriousDepravity #Gravesend #MorbidAngel #Nov25 #Pyrrhon #Review #Reviews #TranscendingObscurityRecords #Woe