#nov25 — Public Fediverse posts

Suncraft – Welcome to the Coven Review

By Spicie Forrest

I first became acquainted with stoner rock while attending college and skiing in Salt Lake City. Whether carving the corduroy or taking face shots of bottomless pow, the raucous groove of the style made for a great soundtrack. I’ve largely moved on to heavier and less accessible pastures, but once in a while, something brings me back. This time, it was Suncraft, a five-piece formed in Oslo, Norway in 2017; I couldn’t let a genre tag like “stoner/black/pop” pass by unyoinked. We missed their 2021 debut, Flat Earth Rider, but I’m here to give their sophomore effort, Welcome to the Coven, the proper AMG treatment.

Suncraft has historically relied on mid-paced stoner rock, but their second LP sees the band move in a different direction. Welcome to the Coven is what happens when Queens of the Stone Age wields The Sword and walks The DOGS. It’s riotous, retro, and downright groovy. With a triple-pronged attack, guitarists Vebørn Rindal Krogstad, Sigurd Grøtan, and Jens Henrik Kverndal let loose a wildly infectious salvo of stoner and garage rock. “Welcome to the Coven” and “Forgotten Goddess” rip across the desert in an old convertible Mustang powered solely by diesel and sativa. “Love’s Underrated” gives garage revival and a little Japandroids, while “Wizards of the Anger Magic” opens on The Beach Boys and pays heavy tribute to The Ramones. Mixed into this strong foundation you’ll also find riffage stained black (“Ragebait”), pop punk angst (“Greed Battalion”), posty and proggy diversions (“High on Silence”), and even a millennial whoop or two. These are disparate elements to bring under one umbrella, but like fellow countrymen Kvelertak, Suncraft pull it off well.

In a brew stereotypically known for wanton abandon, Welcome to the Coven succeeds through restraint. Post-black and pop punk normally make bridge- or hook-centered appearances, being used as means to build drama and release tension rather than ends in themselves. Drummer Tobias Paulsen utilizes a predominantly upbeat rock style, but he’s got a full toolbox. He deploys d-beats, hooks and fills, blast beats, and tempo changes with precision for maximum emotional impact (“Love’s Underrated,” “Welcome to the Coven”). The same can be said of bassist/singer Rasmus Skage Jensen, whose strings feel elementally nostalgic, both in tone and in their intentionally dynamic grounding of hooks, leads, and rhythmic support. And by keeping a normally tight grip on his vocals, the moments when Jensen lets loose and pushes his pipes to their limit shine all the brighter (“Greed Battalion,” “Forgotten Goddess”). Rather than employing an unchecked, maximalist style, Suncraft’s tempered and deceptively meticulous songcraft elevates Welcome to the Coven far above the sum of its parts.

Suncraft doesn’t treat the incorporation of these various flourishes as puzzles to be solved. Instead, every element on Welcome to the Coven seems chosen and placed to best support a deliriously and irresistibly fun grand design. This approach and Suncraft’s success with it grant them an inimitable air of sprezzatura.1 Krogstad, Grøtan, and Kverndal spin around each other so naturally, offering inspired counterpoints (“Wizards of the Anger Magic”), tossing in pristine fills (“High on Silence”), and passing leads and solos like a hacky sack (“Love’s Underrated,” “Forgotten Goddess”). I don’t for one second believe that Jensen’s interjectory “fuck it” on “Greed Battalion” or Paulsen’s double bass in “Welcome to the Coven” are off the cuff; this album is far too good for that. But when I hear the killer solo in “Love’s Underrated,” the exceptional back half of “Charlatan Killer,” or the barely controlled chaos that is “Forgotten Goddess,” I can’t help but be awed by the explosive synergy on display here—and the casual effortlessness of it.

I had high hopes when I picked up Welcome to the Coven, and from the first seconds of “Ragebait” to the final cymbals of “Forgotten Goddess,”2 Suncraft blew me away. The chorus of “Charlatan Killer” was the only exception, being merely good in a sea of great. Each track on Suncraft’s sophomore effort fits together naturally and neatly in a singular, unified vision. Primally familiar like the mythical dog days of summer, Welcome to the Coven is an astoundingly fun ride. By the end of its 40-minute runtime, I’m invariably left craving more. And if that isn’t the mark of a great album, I don’t know what is.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: All Good Clean Records
Websites: Facebook | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: November 21st, 2025

#2025 #40 #allGoodCleanRecords #blackMetal #garageRock #japandroids #kvelertak #norwegianMetal #nov25 #popPunk #queensOfTheStoneAge #review #reviews #stonerRock #suncraft #theBeachBoys #theDogs #theRamones #theSword #welcomeToTheCoven

Steel Arctus – Dreamruler Review

By Andy-War-Hall

Brothers, you need power metal in your life. No, you do. You need authentic positivity shot straight into your cynic-rotten hearts, now. Most fortunate for you, Greek power metallers Steel Arctus have graced this year of 2025 with their third album Dreamruler, marking the third entry into the chronicles of their titular hero Steel Arctus. 2020’s Fire and Blood detailed the origins of Steel Arctus and his girlfriend Red Sonja the Arcadian Lady, 2022’s Master of War saw him delve into the fires of Hades and now Dreamruler sees him challenge the titular Dreamruler in his evil world of dreams to rescue his bodacious muse. Though the first two albums were good, Steel Arctus only grazed greatness a few times in their young career. Is Dreamruler the one that’ll bring them there? Hold your hammers high.

Steel Arctus are sworn to the flame of metal glory, and Dreamruler carries that fire by way of anthemic power metal. Dreamruler is imbued with the fantasy-minded songwriting of Dio, the epic vocal acrobatics of Lost Horizon and the fist-balling machismo of Judas Priest and Visigoth. “Riding through the Night” sees Steel Arctus fuse Judas Priest grit and Nocturnal Rites hookiness, “Fate of the Beast” marries Stratovarius neoclassical-isms with Paladin riffing and “Will to Power” embodies so much Manowar that I’m surprised Manowar never wrote it. Steel Arctus harness these influences into lean, catchy tunes that—while never feeling totally original, obviously—feel deeply energized and alive. Just hearing the Lost Horizon bloopy synths and grandeur of “Defender of Steel,” the Iced Earth thrash-power of “Cry for Revenge,” and the Savatage class and nastiness of “Dreamruler” evoked that sense of first getting into metal again. Listening to Dreamruler is listening to everything Steel Arctus love distilled into forty-seven minutes of heavy metal bliss.

This mimicry of established styles wouldn’t work so well if Steel Arctus weren’t incredible musicians. Thankfully, guitarist Nash G. churns out quality riffs like it’s nothing, bringing beefy grooves to “Will to Power” and nimble plucking on “Fires of Death”. While extremely technical and wah-heavy (“Fires of Death”), G.’s solos avoid hollowness through a melody-first approach; just hear those twins on “Dreamruler” or how “Wicked Lies” plays with the riff beneath it. Drummer Minas Chatziminas crushes his kicks (“Defender of Steel”) while fitting in cool tom and cymbal work (“Riding through the Night”) and just enough kick variation for some rhythmic interest (“Dreamruler”), while bassist Strutter (Wardrum) lays down thick-toned bass runs throughout Dreamruler and even leads on “Wicked Lies.” But vocalist Tasos Lazaris (Fortress Under Siege, White Wizzard) is the leader of this quest called Dreamruler, as his incredible range (“Legend of the Warrior”,) power (“Cry for Revenge”) and charisma (“Glory of the Hero”) sharpen the hooks of Dreamruler and give Steel Arctus a commanding presence. Put together, and Dreamruler’s an outstandingly fun romp worthy of Steel Arctus’ many influences.

The only blemish on Dreamruler is that the ending isn’t a smash success. The penultimate “Legend of the Warrior” opens in dramatic fashion, replete with swirling synths, plucked clean guitar and spoken narration à la Lost Horizon that really sounds like Steel Arctus are building towards a true epic conclusion akin to “Highlander (The One).” Instead, it and the closing instrumental “Onar (όναρ),”1 move through mid-paced crawls that leave Dreamruler with a minor case of anticlimax. They’re not bad songs— “Legend of the Warrior” features Lazaris’ most dynamic performance and “Onar (όναρ)” sounds genuinely restorative in its pleasantness—but with how much pathos Steel Arctus weave into their music I think Dreamruler would’ve benefited from a bigger, grander finale. Steel Arctus can tell a story: I have no idea what happens in Dreamruler narrative-wise, but when Lazaris commands “Hammer Highyaaa!” on “Defender of Steel,” who needs a plot? I’m right there anyway.

Steel Arctus have leveled up tremendously on Dreamruler, and anyone with even a smidgen of appreciation for power metal should give this a spin. They don’t do anything new or novel whatsoever on Dreamruler, and, yeah, these are the most generic power metal song titles imaginable, but Steel Arctus hammered their way into greatness by sheer force of will anyway—along with amazing performances and adept songcraft, of course. Everything about Dreamruler is wholehearted, from Steel Arctus’ celebration of heavy metal’s past to their overwhelming showmanship. This is music of gigantic melancholy and gigantic mirth and easily one of, if not the year’s best power metal albums.

Rating: Great
DR: 72 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: No Remorse Records
Websites: steelarctus.com | steelarctus.bandcamp | facebook.com/steelarctus
Releases Worldwide: November 28th, 2025

#2025 #40 #dio #dreamruler #epicMetal #fortressUnderSiege #greekMetal #heavyMetal #icedEarth #judasPriest #lostHorizon #manowar #noRemorseRecords #nocturnalRites #nov25 #paladin #powerMetal #review #reviews #savatage #steelArctus #stratovarius #visigoth #wardrum #whiteWizzard

Depravity – Bestial Possession Review

By Kenstrosity

Since the release of Evil Upheaval in early 2018, I fell head over heels for Aussie death metal quintet Depravity. Evil Upheaval always going to be a difficult debut to follow, but Grand Malevolence did its very best and largely matched the debut’s sheer heft and vicious energy. Five long years spans the gap between then and now, with third salvo Bestial Possession, threatening to pummel me into dust. Little does Depravity know how badly I want it.

As if in smug answer to my “pummel me harder” challenge, Bestial Possession penetrates every pore of my body with wild abandon and zero concern for my internal organs. What I knew and loved from the brutal Evil Upheaval and the twisted Grand Malevolence coalesces here, forming a new evolution of Depravity’s sound that is at once devilishly cunning and fabulously infectious. A mangled amalgam of Cannibal Corpse bloodthirst, Immolation muscularity, and early Morbid Angel velocity, Depravity’s sound is familiar but instantly recognizable. The trick there is twofold. Firstly, Jamie Kay’s addicting vocal cadence and tonal attributes1 provide a singular voice that sets Depravity apart from the crowd. Secondly, guitarists Lynton Cessford and Jarrod Curley exhibit an uncanny ability to splice, fold, and connect tightly packed riffs together through kinky time signatures that snap my spine as easily as they trip me up (“Eunuch Maker,” “Blinding Oblivion”).

With these simple, but wildly effective, songwriting techniques—massaged by the smoothest transitions Depravity’s penned thus far—Bestial Possession quickly becomes a force to be reckoned with. Right off the bat, opening assault “Engulfed in Agony” launches the record with a devastating riffset; jaunty, subtly melodic, and bounding with verve. Oodles of arpeggiated scales and wriggling oscillations traversed by the lead guitars cohere beautifully with Louis Rando’s ballistic percussion and Ainsley Watkins’ clunky bass rumbles (“Call to the Fallen,” “Awful Mangulation”), forging a complex web of wizardry that stops just short of earning a “tech-death” badge but nonetheless ensures maximum stimulation. As a way to create balance and protect songwriting dynamics in every selection, Depravity explore a great variety of tempos and textures around Bestial Possession’s denser phrases. Grounding those variations to the band’s core mission of destruction, a palpable sense of groove tailor-made to incite ravenous pit activity also compels heads to bang with great intensity, as evidenced by turbo-bangers “Rot in the Pit,” “Aligned with Satan,” and “Legacy.”

There may be those who argue that the level of accessibility Depravity achieved with such brutal fare as this works against them, but I argue the opposite is true. Bands like Cannibal Corpse, De Profundis and even younger acts like Atrae Bilis expertly toy the line between accessibility and deadliness, and with Bestial Possession, Depravity earn their place in that elite category of death. This third installment in Depravity’s catalog is dense, brutally fast, and relentless. But it’s also refined, concise, and streamlined compared to their previous works. It’s loud, too, which holds it back from even higher acclaim, but its meaty guitar tones and well-balanced mix helps recover some ground on the production front. The only other nitpick I can muster against Bestial Possession is that, despite the incredible variety and scalpel-precise execution on hand, sometimes its strongest and most memorable cuts (“Eunuch Maker,” “Call to the Fallen,” “Rot in the Pit,” “Blinding Oblivion”) overshadow its album mates a touch too strongly. For some, that might create a minor bump in the road. Still, it’s unlikely to diminish the listening experience in any meaningful way.

As the dust settles and the flames of Depravity’s tear across the death metal landscape recede, Bestial Possession towers above many of 2025’s myriad releases. Even with my analytical eye in high gear, rooting for flaws and scrounging for blemishes, Depravity secured their rightful place as one of my absolute favorite meat-and-potatoes death metal acts active today, with Bestial Possession slotting at the top of their discography. It once more begs the question: how will they follow this up? To that I say, “Who gives a fuck?!” and smash the replay button to smithereens.

Rating: Great!
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Transcending Obscurity Records
Websites: depravityaustralia.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/Depravitydestroy
Releases Worldwide: November 21st, 2025

#2025 #40 #atraeBilis #australianMetal #bestialPossession #brutalDeathMetal #cannibalCorpse #deProfundis #deathMetal #depravity #immolation #morbidAngel #nov25 #review #reviews #transcendingObscurityRecords

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

Bloodbound – Field of Swords Review

By Baguette of Bodom

Bloodbound has always been a band with a confusing identity. These Swedes lit up a storm with debut Nosferatu in 2006, an underappreciated heavy/power gem fusing the best of Iron Maiden’s gallops with the hooks of Helloween and HammerFall. The golden pipes of Urban Breed (ex-Tad Morose) were the cherry on top. However, the curse of unstable lineups would strike. Urban Breed would leave for one album, rejoin for the odd-but-good, progpower-meets-Kalmah melodeath sound of Tabula Rasa, and promptly leave again. A decade of struggles followed, ranging from watered-down HammerFall to withered Sabaton to simply tepid heavy metal. 2021’s Creatures of the Dark Realm was a surprising resurgence, drifting Bloodbound more towards saccharine Europower. This brings us to newcomer Field of Swords. Where does it fit into this unconventional discography?

Field of Swords doubles down on Bloodbound’s recent melodic adventures. The double bass drumming of ’90s power metal is immediately recognizable, following in the steps of Stratovarius and HammerFall. The guitar work, too, has rejuvenated. Gone are almost all of the Sabatonisms that marred some of the band’s lowest points; here, the Olsson brothers’ rhythmic assault is simple but effective (“As Empires Fall,” “Born to Be King”), and its attitude carries the medieval fantasy spirit of [Luca Turilli(‘s) / Lione] Rhapsody [of Fire] minus the wank. The vocals of Patrik J. Selleby fit this style like a glove, his adapted performance being one of the strongest of his tenure thus far.

Bloodbound’s newfound breakneck pace and consistency are their greatest assets. The decision to go borderline sparkly on Field of Swords could have backfired, marking yet another sudden left turn in a discography full of them. Instead, it feels like a natural development from the past three albums. While the album on the surface is written like standard ’90s–’00s melodic power metal (“Field of Swords”), the execution of classic power chord choruses leading into blazing solos (“The Code of Warriors,” “Forged in Iron”) is surprisingly fiery and fun. Most importantly, Field of Swords forgoes balladry and prioritizes speed for a lion’s share of its 45-minute runtime. The record has a unified image unusual of Bloodbound. It’s not infallible—the unnecessary Sabaton sing-along stomp rears its head on the second half of “Pain and Glory”—but it is tightly-knit in a way I greatly appreciate.

As catchy as Field of Swords is, there are a few things preventing it from being a resounding success. For one, Bloodbound rely too much on one-note Battle Beastian disco synths. While Fredrik Bergh contributes plenty of pleasant backing bombast to the album as well, his main weapon of choice is sharp and high up in the mix, leading to fatigue on some otherwise strong choruses (“Defenders of Jerusalem,” “Light the Sky”). The band is still not immune to odd songwriting shifts either. In addition to the aforementioned “Pain and Glory” stumble, closing track “The Nine Crusades” features Unleash the Archers’ talented Brittney Slayes, only for her voice to drown under sappiness unfit for the record. Even so, the concoction here is potent. Cuts like “Land of the Brave” and “Light the Sky” are some of Bloodbound’s fastest and most energetic to date, and this sudden burst of frenzy is admirable of a veteran band.

For the first time in a while, Bloodbound’s sound has a true sense of direction. Field of Swords’ all-gas, no-brakes approach gives the record more urgency than they’ve had in forever, and both the songwriting and album flow greatly benefit in return. Despite some lingering issues, Field of Swords ends up being one of the better albums in the band’s catalog. Both Creatures of the Dark Realm and this album indicate the Europower-forward realignment continues to work in their favor. I can’t say I don’t still long for the days of Nosferatu, and Bloodbound could place a bit more faith in their strong guitar work and vocal lines, but whatever they’re doing is paying off once more. I can only hope this progress continues.

Rating: Good!
DR: N/A | Format Reviewed: Stream o’ Piss
Label: Napalm Records | Bandcamp
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: November 21st, 2025

#lucaTurillisLioneRhapsodyOfFire #2025 #30 #battleBeast #bloodbound #fieldOfSwords #hammerfall #helloween #ironMaiden #kalmah #napalmRecords #nov25 #powerMetal #review #reviews #sabaton #stratovarius #swedishMetal #tadMorose #unleashTheArchers

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

Oromet – The Sinking Isle Review

By ClarkKent

‘Tis the season. No, not the holidays. ‘Tis the season for doom and gloom, at least here in southeastern Michigan, where the days have grown shorter, clouds are overcast, the temps have dropped, and the trees have lost just about all of their colorful leaves. To celebrate this season, I have decided to review nothing but doom for the month of November. First up is the sophomore album from Sacramento, California’s Oromet, The Sinking Isle. Their self-titled debut impressed Cherd enough to earn a spot on his best of the year list in 2023. Oromet’s two members have plenty of experience with a myriad of other doom bands, from the blackened versions of Desiccation and Occlith to the stoner doom of Battle Hag to the non-doom atmoblack of Feral Season. As experts on sounds both atmospheric and sorrowful, the duo has pounced on funeral doom for their most recent project. What they offer the genre is a lush beauty that deserves your full attention.

The Sinking Isle brings back the same formula found on Oromet—one 20-minute song followed by two songs just over 10 minutes each—but layered with more complexity. The music is at once serene and meditative, as evidenced by the opening sounds of rainfall and lightly plucked acoustics on “Hollow Dominion.” As the song continues, there’s a sense of dueling moods between despair and hope. Oromet conveys these moods through contrasting guitar tones: the heavy, dark tone of the bass on the one hand, and the up-tuned guitar melodies on the other. As “Hollow Dominion” moves on from the natural sounds of rainfall to the plodding of the guitar and bass, a sense of sorrow pervades. Minutes later, guitarist Dan Aguilar plays a more uplifting tone that echoes the hopeful tunes of Counting Skies rather than the weighty riffs of fellow funeral doomsters Godthrymm. From the desolation of nature—the “sinking” isle, the “hollow” dominion, the “forsaken” tarn—somehow emerges a feeling of hope, maybe healing.

While all aspects of The Sinking Isle work, I find the drumming by Patrick Hills particularly arresting. Funeral doom typically features plodding beats, as if matching the power and pace of a giant’s gait. That’s there on The Sinking Isle, but there’s also more. Hills sometimes plays sudden bursts of staccato blasts, as if trying to encourage a brisk march. These beats impress a sense of constant action, as if something is trying to break free. Eleven minutes into “Hollow Dominion,” Hills surprises with war-like drum blasts that sound reminiscent of machine gun fire from a World War II film. The war-sounding drums return on “Marathon,” but this time with the cadence and feel of cannon fire. These moments contain a surreal violence, and they always precede periods of tranquility, lulls in the onslaught of guitars and growls. While the guitar melodies are mesmerizing, the drums demand you pay even closer attention.

The paradoxes that pervade The Sinking Isle help make it such a compelling listen. The most obvious paradox is that between despair and hope. There are also, as described above, moments of violence and moments of serenity. Another paradox is one between realism and fantasy. The guitars and drumming provide grounding, placing us somewhere in the realm of the real, but then there are periods of synths that sound like something out of a sci-fi/fantasy world. Despite the snail’s pace, Oromet keeps you on your toes, keeps you wondering and guessing at the puzzle the music weaves. Moods shift from peace to sorrow, from violence to hope. Yet because it is funeral doom, these moods take time to develop before shifting to the next. The Sinking Isle meditates deeply on these themes and lulls you with its lush soundscapes. By the closing minutes of “Forsaken Tarn,” the mix of sorrow and hope that has dominated the record reveals a sense of beauty in the loneliness and desolation the music conveys. It’s an astonishing feat.

The Sinking Isle fell into my hands at a hectic time in my life, and it has served as a healing balm. It is a meditation on loss, on things falling apart, on loneliness. But the lightness of the melodies ensures these dark feelings never overwhelm. As monumental as Oromet’s debut was, this one is a step forward thematically and musically. It reinvents what funeral doom can be—not just a crushing sense of sorrow, but a genre that can raise your spirits as well. It leaves me hopeful for what Oromet can achieve in the future.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Hypaethral Records
Website: Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: November 7th, 2025

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