#nov25 — Public Fediverse posts

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

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

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

1914 – Viribus Unitis Review

By Grin Reaper

1914 has never shied away from the ugliness of war and death. Since Where Fear and Weapons Meet was released in 2021, the Ukrainian outfit has witnessed the horrors of that ugliness on their own soil. On Viribus Unitis,1 the quintet from Lviv maintains the poise and brutality of earlier material while imbuing their latest opus with deft poignancy. The album follows the story of a Ukrainian soldier fighting in the Austro-Hungarian army, and describes the thrill of victory, the anguish of defeat and injury, and the wretched misery of internment. Rather than re-upping the pointlessness of war, though, Viribus Unitis broadens 1914’s philosophy to highlight the camaraderie and brotherhood that such difficult times beget. Do the shift in tone and gravity of personal stakes allow 1914 to clear the high bar they’ve set for themselves?

1914’s brew of blackened death/doom returns in full force on Viribus Unitis, delivering the potent cocktail of history and metallic fortitude we’ve come to expect. As Holdeneye keenly observed in prior coverage, the Bolt Thrower-meets-Asphyx intersection remains apt, as well as Amon Amarthian melodic sensibilities. The opening to “1914 (The Siege of Przemyśl)” would slot perfectly into Fate of Norns, for instance. And anyone paying attention to WWI-centric bands writing songs from the Central Powers’ perspective won’t be surprised by Kanonenfieber comparisons, both in subject matter and determined sonic fervor. Besides the interplay of titanic riffs and melodic leads, listeners are thrown into samples of period-specific soundbites, such as the clip at the beginning of “1917 (The Isonzo Front).” Throughout Viribus Unitis, snippets like this further ensconce listeners in the milieu of the time.

Everything that worked well for 1914 on Where Fear and Weapons Meet has been dialed up on Viribus Unitis. The crushing bulk of blackened sludge, the biting edge of bitter melody, and the tinny clips of a bygone era construct a vivid portrayal of life and death on the front lines. It’s at once addictive and morose, and genuine in a way that transcends surface-level storytelling. Gang choruses weave in with Ditmar Kumarberg’s blackened rasps (“1915 (Easter Battle for the Zwinin Ridge)”) to create a soundscape on two fronts, one unhinged by the chaos of war and the other a united fellowship forged in the fires of man-made hell. Another crucial layer that elevates Viribus Unitis is the guest vocals. Christopher Scott (Precious Death), Jérôme Reuter (Rome), and Aaron Stainthorpe (High Parasite, ex-My Dying Bride) inject variety and character to support 1914’s intricate aural campaign. Stainthorpe’s contribution on “1918 Pt. III: ADE (A Duty to Escape)” haunts with magnetic resonance as his cleans detail the inner monologue of the escaped protagonist while Kumarberg’s snarls narrate a harrowing getaway. This is pure SotY fodder and a must-listen for anyone reading. “1919 (The Home Where I Died)” follows, where a slightly distorted piano adds a warbling surrealism to the dirge. In it, Reuter’s tender croon recounts reuniting with his wife and daughter before the heartrending decision that he must leave once more.2

1914 wields thunder and riffs instinctively, ruthlessly bludgeoning with devastating grooves and cutting with calculated precision. Rostislaw Potoplacht’s3 drumming hypnotizes with martial rolls and implacable plods while Witaly Wyhovsky and Oleksa Fisiuk’s dual-guitar tandem electrifies with fiery trems and viscous atmospherics. All the while, Armen Howhannisjan holds down the bottom end on bass, adding texture and balance to the inexorable heft of Viribus Unitis. The sum total conjures vivid auditory experiences where each track breathes and bleeds with vitality and earnestness. And while no song sounds alike, all are undeniably 1914.

There’s little doubt that 1914 has delivered the most realized and important album of their career so far. Viribus Unitis is a masterclass in no-bullshit metal storytelling that feels authentic, intimate, and anthemic for the entire runtime. The sweeping story of a solider’s struggle through injury, capture, and escape is enough to satisfy, but viewed through the lens of the ubiquity of loss and love makes Viribus Unitis even more profound. 1914’s preceding LPs are fantastic, and their newest platter unequivocally entrenches the band as a premier act with a unique voice and relevant commentary on the human condition and how violence always leaves scars. Viribus Unitis is a must-listen for fans and newcomers alike, and missing this one is sure to leave you shell-shocked.

Rating: Excellent!
DR: NA | Format Reviewed: Stream
Label: Napalm Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: November 14th, 2025

#1914 #2025 #45 #AmonAmarth #Asphyx #BlackMetal #BoltThrower #DeathDoom #DeathMetal #DoomMetal #HighParasite #Kanonenfieber #MyDyingBride #NapalmRecords #Nov25 #PreciousDeath #Review #Reviews #Rome #UkrainianMetal #ViribusUnitis

Astronoid – Stargod Review

By Samguineous Maximus

Astronoid and I have a history. Their 2016 debut Air was one of those lightning-in-a-bottle releases that blew the doors off my early metal fandom. A delirious cocktail of shoegaze shimmer, sugar-coated harmonies, and blast-beaten bliss, it felt like nothing else at the time, and it sent me tumbling down the blackgaze rabbit hole. Add in the fact that these guys hailed from my quiet corner of New England, and I was all in. I caught them live a handful of times back then, and each gig felt like watching a small band punching way above their weight. 2019’s Astronoid wasn’t a bad album, but its shift toward more conventional post-rock didn’t grab me in the same way, and it eventually fell out of rotation. Their next release, 2022’s Radiant Bloom, was a marked improvement, combining the atmosphere and immediacy of their debut with the songwriting lessons of its follow-up. Still, it didn’t quite recapture the euphoric heights of Air. Now, with a string of impressive live gigs under their belt, including an opening slot for Blink-182 of all people, and a streamlined lineup reduced to a trio, the band returns with their fourth full-length, Stargod. The big question: can Astronoid finally outdo Air, or are we doomed to orbit its glowing corpse forever?

The core sound of Stargod is unmistakably Astronoid, but this time the group leans further into pop-focused songwriting. Their trademark mix of prog, shoegaze, and post-rock remains intact with all the familiar hallmarks: gleeful blast beats, major-key harmonies, soaring choirboy vocals, and buoyant synths. However, they’re used in the service of sharper, chorus-driven compositions that rely on dynamics and layering to strengthen their saccharine, high-energy attack. Slower, ballad-like tracks such as “Stargod” and “Beneath the Lights” exemplify this approach, building evocative, vocal-centered songs on synth-forward grooves while guitar harmonies are added or stripped away for maximum impact around a memorable chorus. These are nicely balanced by more immediate up-tempo cuts which swirl around a hypnotizing central synth motif (“Explosive”) or follow a pop-punk tinged guitar charge (“Dream Protocol ’88”) which melds the band’s familiar sense of high-energy elation with this record’s improved sense of dynamics and hooks. Stargod is a thoroughly pleasant and varied record—balanced, uplifting, and easy to throw on to just bathe in Astronoid’s signature jubilance.

Part of Stargod’s shimmer comes from the newfound confidence radiating from Astronoid’s vocalist, guitarist, and principal songwriter, Brett Boland. His ethereal tenor has always been central to the band’s sound, but here it shines brighter than ever, carried by lush vocal harmonies that elevate every track. Beyond his usual roles, Boland also handles drums on this record and co-mixed the entire album with bassist and synth player Daniel Schwartz. The result is Astronoid’s best-sounding release yet. The synths, in particular, stand out—glowing with both playful innocence and heartfelt emotion—while every element, from the warm, nuanced drumming to the crunchy, reverberant guitar leads, feels immediate and expressive. Mid-tempo rockers like “Third Shot” and “Sabian” land especially hard, gliding between soaring choruses, restrained verses, and climactic solos. Altogether, Stargod feels like the complete, uncompromising realization of a band finally confident in pursuing their true sound.

My biggest critique of Stargod might seem like a bit of a cop-out, but my favorite tracks are the ones that most closely resemble the blast-heavy style of Air. The opening tracks, “Embark” and “Love Weapon,” bring back the high-energy, blast-driven sound of Astronoid’s debut, but with tighter songwriting and immaculate production. This style makes a return on the closing track, “Arrival,” which ends the album with a stunning climax. On repeated listens, I find myself feeling slightly underwhelmed by the middle section of Stargod as it relaxes its grip on the throttle. While those middle tracks are still beautiful and engaging in their own right, I do find myself longing ever so slightly for more blast beat goodness and it’s a bit disappointing that my favorite moments still come from the songs that echo the band’s earlier sound. That said, taken as a whole, Stargod is still a remarkable accomplishment.

With Stargod, I see Astronoid in a position similar to where Leprous found themselves with Malina. While I miss the sheer bombast of Astronoid’s earlier sound, I can’t help but admire the impeccable craftsmanship on display as the band continues to evolve. Stargod is packed with intelligently written, dynamic pop songs that capture the magic of what made Astronoid special in the first place, while confidently showcasing the sonic maturity they’ve developed over the years. Is Stargod a true sequel to Air? Not at all—but it doesn’t need to be. It stands as an impressive record that thrives on its own strengths.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: 3DOT Recordings
Websites: astronoidband.com | facebook.com/astronoidband
Releases Worldwide: November 7th, 2025

#2025 #35 #3DotRecordings #AlternativeMetal #AmerianMetal #Astronoid #Leprous #Nov25 #PopMetal #PostRock #PostMetal #ProgressiveMetal #Review #Reviews #Shoegaze #Stargod

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

#2025 #40 #AmericanMetal #BattleHag #CountingSkies #Desiccation #FeralSeason #FuneralDoom #Godthrymm #HypaethralRecords #Nov25 #Occlith #Oromet #Review #Reviews #TheSinkingIsle