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https://www.europesays.com/fi/352990/ Uusiutumista uusiutumisen paineesta – Arviossa Anthraxin ”Cursum Perficio” #anthrax #Entertainment #FI #Finland #Finnish #Music #Musiikki #NuclearBlastRecords #Suomi #viihde

With the definitive Anthrax ranking done and dusted (I mean my ranking), I finally get my ape ears on the entirety of their 12th album, Cursum Perficio (Latin for “I finish the journey”). It’s been a long wait for something new from the band too, since For All Kings came out over 10 years ago in what now seems like an entirely different world. In the span of time that’s passed since then, both Slayer and Megadeth closed up shop, the world suffered a pandemic that forever changed the way societies function, and Metallica dropped an album that nobody really loved as they too likely headed toward a final exit. For all intents and purposes, that makes Anthrax the last band standing from the Big Four. How many expected this outcome back when Thrax was dropping duds like We’ve Come for You All and Vol. 8? I certainly wouldn’t have bet on them in a survivor pool, but here we are. Looking back, the smart money probably should have been on the little band from Queens, since For All Kings smoked anything the Big Four members released in ages. But can Anthrax pull another rabbit out of their magic hat so late in their career? Based on that wild cover art, they seem to be telegraphing that rabbits will be forthcoming. With the same lineup as last time, let’s hope they can still make the fur fly.

Cursum Perficio revisits various eras of their career while also offering new wrinkles and at least one big surprise. After moody intro “Persistence of Memory,” they drop a big, emotional number called “The Long Goodbye,” highlighting the horrors of dementia. It’s a grim, unsettling song that easily could have fit on Persistence of Time, and the lyrics resonate emotionally and really harsh your mellow. Thankfully, this Debbie Downer is immediately followed by the traditional Thrax tune “It’s for the Kids,” which is more upbeat and punk-thrashy.1 Even more classically Thraxified is “Everybody’s Got a Plan,” which is the most New York song I’ve heard since Biohazard’s last brainless release. The chorus will stick in your brainpan and torment you for days. The classic gang shouts are back everything feels like 1988 all over again. Then comes the song that will divide listeners the most. Yes, “The Edge of Perfection” features trem riffs, blast beats, and atmo-black elements. I admit I was put off by it on first spin, but in the context of the album, it’s a cool changeup. It’s a grower of a song, and though it’s maybe a minute or so too long, it has a weird addictive quality that grows with consumption. It also shows olde dawgs can learn new tricks in the fullness of time. I don’t necessarily need more Blackthrax in my life, but I kinda like what we got here.

The first half of Cursum is pretty righteous, but it’s a somewhat front-loaded album. Good things do appear on the album’s back half, though. “Infectious” is like Anthrax trying to write a song that would fit on Load, and they pretty much nail it. There’s a cool, laid-back rock swagger here with a simple grinding riff. The lyrics reference Stephen King’s The Stand to make for a nice callback to “Among the Living,” and this one is a simple but stealthy grower. “NYC 93” is a rowdy, punky ode to life in the Big Apple back in the crazy 90s, and it’s hard to hear this and not think that Anthrax stole it from Overkill. If so, Bobby Blitz is gonna beat somebody’s ass for this. The last third of Cursum is good, and no song falls flat, but nothing will blow your doors off either. The title track is catchy but about 2 minutes too long, and it gets pretty repetitive by the end. The rest of the material is shockingly bloat-free, so that’s a big win. At 53-plus minutes, it feels like a track could be dropped, but no cut screams to be dumped.

I’d heard mixed reviews about how Joey sounded on the album, but to my ears he does fine. His voice has changed over the decades as one would expect, but he still sounds strong and clear and, well, like Joey! His delivery reminds me of his Persistence of Time days on some tracks, and on others more like his rougher, grittier performance on Worship Music. He can still bring it and command the room, and that’s impressive after so long in the game. Legendary thrash axe Scott Ian and newish addition Jonathan Donais offer a plethora of classic Thrax riffs while also dabbling in prog, groove rock, and, of course, they veer into atmo-black darkness. Charlie Benante is his usual sick beast on the kit and Frank Bello joins him to form one of the best backlines in thrash history. Everyone sounds good, and the material feels lively, fresh and vital. That in and of itself is a win for a band in their 4th decade of existence.

With most members of Anthrax in their 60s and many of their contemporaries aging out of the speed circuit, there will inevitably come a time when these guys just don’t want to thrash anymore. They’ve been claiming this is not their last album, but if it is, they went out on a good note and did their legacy proud. Cursum Perficio may not reach the same highs as For All Kings, but it’s a very good album from a band that’s been written off so many times over the years. Rabbits have been pulled, so all hail the survivors of the Big Four tontine!

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Nuclear Blast
Websites: anthrax.com | facebook.com/anthrax | instagram.com/anthrax
Releases Worldwide: September 18th, 2026

With the definitive Anthrax ranking done and dusted (I mean my ranking), I finally get my ape ears on the entirety of their 12th album, Cursum Perficio (Latin for “I finish the journey”). It’s been a long wait for something new from the band too, since For All Kings came out over 10 years ago in what now seems like an entirely different world. In the span of time that’s passed since then, both Slayer and Megadeth closed up shop, the world suffered a pandemic that forever changed the way societies function, and Metallica dropped an album that nobody really loved as they too likely headed toward a final exit. For all intents and purposes, that makes Anthrax the last band standing from the Big Four. How many expected this outcome back when Thrax was dropping duds like We’ve Come for You All and Vol. 8? I certainly wouldn’t have bet on them in a survivor pool, but here we are. Looking back, the smart money probably should have been on the little band from Queens, since For All Kings smoked anything the Big Four members released in ages. But can Anthrax pull another rabbit out of their magic hat so late in their career? Based on that wild cover art, they seem to be telegraphing that rabbits will be forthcoming. With the same lineup as last time, let’s hope they can still make the fur fly.

Cursum Perficio revisits various eras of their career while also offering new wrinkles and at least one big surprise. After moody intro “Persistence of Memory,” they drop a big, emotional number called “The Long Goodbye,” highlighting the horrors of dementia. It’s a grim, unsettling song that easily could have fit on Persistence of Time, and the lyrics resonate emotionally and really harsh your mellow. Thankfully, this Debbie Downer is immediately followed by the traditional Thrax tune “It’s for the Kids,” which is more upbeat and punk-thrashy.1 Even more classically Thraxified is “Everybody’s Got a Plan,” which is the most New York song I’ve heard since Biohazard’s last brainless release. The chorus will stick in your brainpan and torment you for days. The classic gang shouts are back everything feels like 1988 all over again. Then comes the song that will divide listeners the most. Yes, “The Edge of Perfection” features trem riffs, blast beats, and atmo-black elements. I admit I was put off by it on first spin, but in the context of the album, it’s a cool changeup. It’s a grower of a song, and though it’s maybe a minute or so too long, it has a weird addictive quality that grows with consumption. It also shows olde dawgs can learn new tricks in the fullness of time. I don’t necessarily need more Blackthrax in my life, but I kinda like what we got here.

The first half of Cursum is pretty righteous, but it’s a somewhat front-loaded album. Good things do appear on the album’s back half, though. “Infectious” is like Anthrax trying to write a song that would fit on Load, and they pretty much nail it. There’s a cool, laid-back rock swagger here with a simple grinding riff. The lyrics reference Stephen King’s The Stand to make for a nice callback to “Among the Living,” and this one is a simple but stealthy grower. “NYC 93” is a rowdy, punky ode to life in the Big Apple back in the crazy 90s, and it’s hard to hear this and not think that Anthrax stole it from Overkill. If so, Bobby Blitz is gonna beat somebody’s ass for this. The last third of Cursum is good, and no song falls flat, but nothing will blow your doors off either. The title track is catchy but about 2 minutes too long, and it gets pretty repetitive by the end. The rest of the material is shockingly bloat-free, so that’s a big win. At 53-plus minutes, it feels like a track could be dropped, but no cut screams to be dumped.

I’d heard mixed reviews about how Joey sounded on the album, but to my ears he does fine. His voice has changed over the decades as one would expect, but he still sounds strong and clear and, well, like Joey! His delivery reminds me of his Persistence of Time days on some tracks, and on others more like his rougher, grittier performance on Worship Music. He can still bring it and command the room, and that’s impressive after so long in the game. Legendary thrash axe Scott Ian and newish addition Jonathan Donais offer a plethora of classic Thrax riffs while also dabbling in prog, groove rock, and, of course, they veer into atmo-black darkness. Charlie Benante is his usual sick beast on the kit and Frank Bello joins him to form one of the best backlines in thrash history. Everyone sounds good, and the material feels lively, fresh and vital. That in and of itself is a win for a band in their 4th decade of existence.

With most members of Anthrax in their 60s and many of their contemporaries aging out of the speed circuit, there will inevitably come a time when these guys just don’t want to thrash anymore. They’ve been claiming this is not their last album, but if it is, they went out on a good note and did their legacy proud. Cursum Perficio may not reach the same highs as For All Kings, but it’s a very good album from a band that’s been written off so many times over the years. Rabbits have been pulled, so all hail the survivors of the Big Four tontine!

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Nuclear Blast
Websites: anthrax.com | facebook.com/anthrax | instagram.com/anthrax
Releases Worldwide: September 18th, 2026

With the definitive Anthrax ranking done and dusted (I mean my ranking), I finally get my ape ears on the entirety of their 12th album, Cursum Perficio (Latin for “I finish the journey”). It’s been a long wait for something new from the band too, since For All Kings came out over 10 years ago in what now seems like an entirely different world. In the span of time that’s passed since then, both Slayer and Megadeth closed up shop, the world suffered a pandemic that forever changed the way societies function, and Metallica dropped an album that nobody really loved as they too likely headed toward a final exit. For all intents and purposes, that makes Anthrax the last band standing from the Big Four. How many expected this outcome back when Thrax was dropping duds like We’ve Come for You All and Vol. 8? I certainly wouldn’t have bet on them in a survivor pool, but here we are. Looking back, the smart money probably should have been on the little band from Queens, since For All Kings smoked anything the Big Four members released in ages. But can Anthrax pull another rabbit out of their magic hat so late in their career? Based on that wild cover art, they seem to be telegraphing that rabbits will be forthcoming. With the same lineup as last time, let’s hope they can still make the fur fly.

Cursum Perficio revisits various eras of their career while also offering new wrinkles and at least one big surprise. After moody intro “Persistence of Memory,” they drop a big, emotional number called “The Long Goodbye,” highlighting the horrors of dementia. It’s a grim, unsettling song that easily could have fit on Persistence of Time, and the lyrics resonate emotionally and really harsh your mellow. Thankfully, this Debbie Downer is immediately followed by the traditional Thrax tune “It’s for the Kids,” which is more upbeat and punk-thrashy.1 Even more classically Thraxified is “Everybody’s Got a Plan,” which is the most New York song I’ve heard since Biohazard’s last brainless release. The chorus will stick in your brainpan and torment you for days. The classic gang shouts are back everything feels like 1988 all over again. Then comes the song that will divide listeners the most. Yes, “The Edge of Perfection” features trem riffs, blast beats, and atmo-black elements. I admit I was put off by it on first spin, but in the context of the album, it’s a cool changeup. It’s a grower of a song, and though it’s maybe a minute or so too long, it has a weird addictive quality that grows with consumption. It also shows olde dawgs can learn new tricks in the fullness of time. I don’t necessarily need more Blackthrax in my life, but I kinda like what we got here.

The first half of Cursum is pretty righteous, but it’s a somewhat front-loaded album. Good things do appear on the album’s back half, though. “Infectious” is like Anthrax trying to write a song that would fit on Load, and they pretty much nail it. There’s a cool, laid-back rock swagger here with a simple grinding riff. The lyrics reference Stephen King’s The Stand to make for a nice callback to “Among the Living,” and this one is a simple but stealthy grower. “NYC 93” is a rowdy, punky ode to life in the Big Apple back in the crazy 90s, and it’s hard to hear this and not think that Anthrax stole it from Overkill. If so, Bobby Blitz is gonna beat somebody’s ass for this. The last third of Cursum is good, and no song falls flat, but nothing will blow your doors off either. The title track is catchy but about 2 minutes too long, and it gets pretty repetitive by the end. The rest of the material is shockingly bloat-free, so that’s a big win. At 53-plus minutes, it feels like a track could be dropped, but no cut screams to be dumped.

I’d heard mixed reviews about how Joey sounded on the album, but to my ears he does fine. His voice has changed over the decades as one would expect, but he still sounds strong and clear and, well, like Joey! His delivery reminds me of his Persistence of Time days on some tracks, and on others more like his rougher, grittier performance on Worship Music. He can still bring it and command the room, and that’s impressive after so long in the game. Legendary thrash axe Scott Ian and newish addition Jonathan Donais offer a plethora of classic Thrax riffs while also dabbling in prog, groove rock, and, of course, they veer into atmo-black darkness. Charlie Benante is his usual sick beast on the kit and Frank Bello joins him to form one of the best backlines in thrash history. Everyone sounds good, and the material feels lively, fresh and vital. That in and of itself is a win for a band in their 4th decade of existence.

With most members of Anthrax in their 60s and many of their contemporaries aging out of the speed circuit, there will inevitably come a time when these guys just don’t want to thrash anymore. They’ve been claiming this is not their last album, but if it is, they went out on a good note and did their legacy proud. Cursum Perficio may not reach the same highs as For All Kings, but it’s a very good album from a band that’s been written off so many times over the years. Rabbits have been pulled, so all hail the survivors of the Big Four tontine!

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Nuclear Blast
Websites: anthrax.com | facebook.com/anthrax | instagram.com/anthrax
Releases Worldwide: September 18th, 2026

With the definitive Anthrax ranking done and dusted (I mean my ranking), I finally get my ape ears on the entirety of their 12th album, Cursum Perficio (Latin for “I finish the journey”). It’s been a long wait for something new from the band too, since For All Kings came out over 10 years ago in what now seems like an entirely different world. In the span of time that’s passed since then, both Slayer and Megadeth closed up shop, the world suffered a pandemic that forever changed the way societies function, and Metallica dropped an album that nobody really loved as they too likely headed toward a final exit. For all intents and purposes, that makes Anthrax the last band standing from the Big Four. How many expected this outcome back when Thrax was dropping duds like We’ve Come for You All and Vol. 8? I certainly wouldn’t have bet on them in a survivor pool, but here we are. Looking back, the smart money probably should have been on the little band from Queens, since For All Kings smoked anything the Big Four members released in ages. But can Anthrax pull another rabbit out of their magic hat so late in their career? Based on that wild cover art, they seem to be telegraphing that rabbits will be forthcoming. With the same lineup as last time, let’s hope they can still make the fur fly.

Cursum Perficio revisits various eras of their career while also offering new wrinkles and at least one big surprise. After moody intro “Persistence of Memory,” they drop a big, emotional number called “The Long Goodbye,” highlighting the horrors of dementia. It’s a grim, unsettling song that easily could have fit on Persistence of Time, and the lyrics resonate emotionally and really harsh your mellow. Thankfully, this Debbie Downer is immediately followed by the traditional Thrax tune “It’s for the Kids,” which is more upbeat and punk-thrashy.1 Even more classically Thraxified is “Everybody’s Got a Plan,” which is the most New York song I’ve heard since Biohazard’s last brainless release. The chorus will stick in your brainpan and torment you for days. The classic gang shouts are back everything feels like 1988 all over again. Then comes the song that will divide listeners the most. Yes, “The Edge of Perfection” features trem riffs, blast beats, and atmo-black elements. I admit I was put off by it on first spin, but in the context of the album, it’s a cool changeup. It’s a grower of a song, and though it’s maybe a minute or so too long, it has a weird addictive quality that grows with consumption. It also shows olde dawgs can learn new tricks in the fullness of time. I don’t necessarily need more Blackthrax in my life, but I kinda like what we got here.

The first half of Cursum is pretty righteous, but it’s a somewhat front-loaded album. Good things do appear on the album’s back half, though. “Infectious” is like Anthrax trying to write a song that would fit on Load, and they pretty much nail it. There’s a cool, laid-back rock swagger here with a simple grinding riff. The lyrics reference Stephen King’s The Stand to make for a nice callback to “Among the Living,” and this one is a simple but stealthy grower. “NYC 93” is a rowdy, punky ode to life in the Big Apple back in the crazy 90s, and it’s hard to hear this and not think that Anthrax stole it from Overkill. If so, Bobby Blitz is gonna beat somebody’s ass for this. The last third of Cursum is good, and no song falls flat, but nothing will blow your doors off either. The title track is catchy but about 2 minutes too long, and it gets pretty repetitive by the end. The rest of the material is shockingly bloat-free, so that’s a big win. At 53-plus minutes, it feels like a track could be dropped, but no cut screams to be dumped.

I’d heard mixed reviews about how Joey sounded on the album, but to my ears he does fine. His voice has changed over the decades as one would expect, but he still sounds strong and clear and, well, like Joey! His delivery reminds me of his Persistence of Time days on some tracks, and on others more like his rougher, grittier performance on Worship Music. He can still bring it and command the room, and that’s impressive after so long in the game. Legendary thrash axe Scott Ian and newish addition Jonathan Donais offer a plethora of classic Thrax riffs while also dabbling in prog, groove rock, and, of course, they veer into atmo-black darkness. Charlie Benante is his usual sick beast on the kit and Frank Bello joins him to form one of the best backlines in thrash history. Everyone sounds good, and the material feels lively, fresh and vital. That in and of itself is a win for a band in their 4th decade of existence.

With most members of Anthrax in their 60s and many of their contemporaries aging out of the speed circuit, there will inevitably come a time when these guys just don’t want to thrash anymore. They’ve been claiming this is not their last album, but if it is, they went out on a good note and did their legacy proud. Cursum Perficio may not reach the same highs as For All Kings, but it’s a very good album from a band that’s been written off so many times over the years. Rabbits have been pulled, so all hail the survivors of the Big Four tontine!

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Nuclear Blast
Websites: anthrax.com | facebook.com/anthrax | instagram.com/anthrax
Releases Worldwide: September 18th, 2026

With the definitive Anthrax ranking done and dusted (I mean my ranking), I finally get my ape ears on the entirety of their 12th album, Cursum Perficio (Latin for “I finish the journey”). It’s been a long wait for something new from the band too, since For All Kings came out over 10 years ago in what now seems like an entirely different world. In the span of time that’s passed since then, both Slayer and Megadeth closed up shop, the world suffered a pandemic that forever changed the way societies function, and Metallica dropped an album that nobody really loved as they too likely headed toward a final exit. For all intents and purposes, that makes Anthrax the last band standing from the Big Four. How many expected this outcome back when Thrax was dropping duds like We’ve Come for You All and Vol. 8? I certainly wouldn’t have bet on them in a survivor pool, but here we are. Looking back, the smart money probably should have been on the little band from Queens, since For All Kings smoked anything the Big Four members released in ages. But can Anthrax pull another rabbit out of their magic hat so late in their career? Based on that wild cover art, they seem to be telegraphing that rabbits will be forthcoming. With the same lineup as last time, let’s hope they can still make the fur fly.

Cursum Perficio revisits various eras of their career while also offering new wrinkles and at least one big surprise. After moody intro “Persistence of Memory,” they drop a big, emotional number called “The Long Goodbye,” highlighting the horrors of dementia. It’s a grim, unsettling song that easily could have fit on Persistence of Time, and the lyrics resonate emotionally and really harsh your mellow. Thankfully, this Debbie Downer is immediately followed by the traditional Thrax tune “It’s for the Kids,” which is more upbeat and punk-thrashy.1 Even more classically Thraxified is “Everybody’s Got a Plan,” which is the most New York song I’ve heard since Biohazard’s last brainless release. The chorus will stick in your brainpan and torment you for days. The classic gang shouts are back everything feels like 1988 all over again. Then comes the song that will divide listeners the most. Yes, “The Edge of Perfection” features trem riffs, blast beats, and atmo-black elements. I admit I was put off by it on first spin, but in the context of the album, it’s a cool changeup. It’s a grower of a song, and though it’s maybe a minute or so too long, it has a weird addictive quality that grows with consumption. It also shows olde dawgs can learn new tricks in the fullness of time. I don’t necessarily need more Blackthrax in my life, but I kinda like what we got here.

The first half of Cursum is pretty righteous, but it’s a somewhat front-loaded album. Good things do appear on the album’s back half, though. “Infectious” is like Anthrax trying to write a song that would fit on Load, and they pretty much nail it. There’s a cool, laid-back rock swagger here with a simple grinding riff. The lyrics reference Stephen King’s The Stand to make for a nice callback to “Among the Living,” and this one is a simple but stealthy grower. “NYC 93” is a rowdy, punky ode to life in the Big Apple back in the crazy 90s, and it’s hard to hear this and not think that Anthrax stole it from Overkill. If so, Bobby Blitz is gonna beat somebody’s ass for this. The last third of Cursum is good, and no song falls flat, but nothing will blow your doors off either. The title track is catchy but about 2 minutes too long, and it gets pretty repetitive by the end. The rest of the material is shockingly bloat-free, so that’s a big win. At 53-plus minutes, it feels like a track could be dropped, but no cut screams to be dumped.

I’d heard mixed reviews about how Joey sounded on the album, but to my ears he does fine. His voice has changed over the decades as one would expect, but he still sounds strong and clear and, well, like Joey! His delivery reminds me of his Persistence of Time days on some tracks, and on others more like his rougher, grittier performance on Worship Music. He can still bring it and command the room, and that’s impressive after so long in the game. Legendary thrash axe Scott Ian and newish addition Jonathan Donais offer a plethora of classic Thrax riffs while also dabbling in prog, groove rock, and, of course, they veer into atmo-black darkness. Charlie Benante is his usual sick beast on the kit and Frank Bello joins him to form one of the best backlines in thrash history. Everyone sounds good, and the material feels lively, fresh and vital. That in and of itself is a win for a band in their 4th decade of existence.

With most members of Anthrax in their 60s and many of their contemporaries aging out of the speed circuit, there will inevitably come a time when these guys just don’t want to thrash anymore. They’ve been claiming this is not their last album, but if it is, they went out on a good note and did their legacy proud. Cursum Perficio may not reach the same highs as For All Kings, but it’s a very good album from a band that’s been written off so many times over the years. Rabbits have been pulled, so all hail the survivors of the Big Four tontine!

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Nuclear Blast
Websites: anthrax.com | facebook.com/anthrax | instagram.com/anthrax
Releases Worldwide: September 18th, 2026

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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