#nuclearblastrecords — Public Fediverse posts

Green Lung has always flirted with metal’s ponderous weight and classic rock’s sly melodicism, uniting two musical forces I love. Before I dove into metal whole hog, I spent years soaking up the classics. Rush and Boston were in constant rotation alongside Black Sabbath and Metallica, looping endlessly on my 5-disc CD stereo through high school and college. Gradually, my listening gave way to more extreme acts as I succumbed to what my mother endearingly calls ‘devil music.’ Despite my unflinching commitment to placing my immortal soul in peril, I just can’t resist acts that channel the music I grew up listening to, and London’s Green Lung sticks this balance expertly. Hypnotic grooves, bouncing riffs, and heartfelt vocals run rampant across Green Lung’s fourth album Necropolitan, invoking the rumble of ecclesiastical dynamite and ghoulish glee. But are Necropolitan’s enchanting atmospheres and retro pleasures enough to wreck your Nec to?

Since forming in 2017, Green Lung has celebrated nature and the ways of olde, often through a lens of freewheeling paganism. Their earliest material saturated sylvan rituals with fuzz and thunder, ensconcing songs in the Green haze of stoner metal. Black Harvest redirected attention to elements of occult rituals recalling 1970s horror films like The Wicker Man and The Blood on Satan’s Claw, placing a greater emphasis on hooky riffs and John Wright’s organ, while This Heathen Land adopted a backdrop rooted in history that found Green Lung wallowing in doomier arrangements. Necropolitan hews much closer to Black Harvest, crafting a bevy of heavy earworms and begetting their catchiest and most immediate platter to date. Conceptually, Necropolitan finds Green Lung drawing inspiration from the sprawling necropolis grounds built during the Victorian era to resolve the calculus of too many bodies and too few burial plots. The upkeep of these gardens collapsed in the 1960s, and since then Earth has slowly reclaimed and transformed these gravesites into pockets of wilderness, incidentally furnishing Necropolitan with a fascinating intersection of nature and the occult.

Reference points abound on Necropolitan, although Green Lung always adheres to their own guiding sonic principles. Vocalist Tom Templar’s voice strongly echoes Tobias Forge’s, and there’s also a smidge of Ian Gillan’s upper register as well,1 albeit with punky snottiness. Speaking of Gillan, “Necropolitan Line” is the best song Deep Purple never wrote (and might be my “Mambo No. 5”), and “Evil in This House” strikes me as a more upbeat musical take on Sabbath’s “Electric Funeral.” “Oxymandias” oozes with a swagger that reminds me of Clutch, “Black Magic Radio” marries the pop-forward sensibilities of Ghost with the heft of Black Sabbath or Cathedral, and closer “To the Gallows Born” begins with gorgeous harmonization reminiscent of “The Wellerman”2 before dipping into Wytch Hazel levels of lilting beauty.

Throughout Necropolitan Green Lung dispenses sharp performances in a lean package that offers enough to satisfy yet leaves me wanting more. Templar’s voice smolders as he directs listeners through Necropolitan’s lush landscapes. “Dance to the Grave” and “Black Magic Radio” mesh his top-notch croon with elephantine riffs while “Necropolitan Line” and “To the Gallows Born” gush with Templar’s sweltering magnetism. Guitarist Scott Black wields his fuzz tone with surgical precision, hitting swells and transitions with impeccable instincts and sexy tones (the solo into the bridge on “Oxymandias,” for example) while John Wright’s organ grinding ignites melodies with fabulous vintage verve. Meanwhile, bassist Joseph Ghast unchains a terrific low-end showcase with audible yet unobtrusive obbligatos (“Necropolitan Line,” “To the Gallows Born”) and drummer Matt Wiseman looses frills and fills with measured gusto (“Black Magic Radio,” “Evil in this House”). In all, everyone in Green Lung brings their A-game to Necropolitan.

Everything about Necropolitan leaves me wanting more, and I can’t stop listening to the damned thing. At forty-one minutes, it’s an irresistibly easy listen and has quickly become one of my most played albums this year. The guitar-and-keys interplay is exquisite, the grooves bowl me over with unholy spirit, and the choruses make a fool of me as I try to sing along. Admittedly, “Together in Death” lacks the indispensability of other tracks, and “Dance to the Grave” and “Black Magic Radio” blur together a tad one after the other, but these are minor cavils in what is one of the best damn stoner-adjacent releases this year. So don’t let Green Lung and their latest wares pass you by—hop a rail down “Necropolitan Line” and breathe in the Greatness.

Rating: Great
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Nuclear Blast Records
Websites: Website | Bandcamp | Facebook | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: September 11th, 2026

Behemoth Unleashes “I, Scvlptor” Album

https://metalphotos.org/2026/09/05/behemoth-unleashes-i-scvlptor-album/

Back in 2015, an unknown band from Denver called Khemmis came out of nowhere and clobbered me with their massive Absolution debut. It was a shrewd and crafty mixture of classic doom, stoner, and sludge idioms, and I ate it up greedily. They came back the following year with an even bigger, better opus called Hunted, and it looked to all the world as if Khemmis would be joining acts like Pallbearer and Crypt Sermon as the vanguard of an American doom revival. 2018s Desolation saw the band inject loads of epic and trve metal into the sound, and it worked, but felt less stellar overall. 2021s Deceiver pushed this concept even further, loading down their long compositions with 80s metal influences, losing more of the doom cred they’d developed over their crucial early releases. It felt as if Khemmis were drifting away from what made them so thrilling, much as Pallbearer did, and they too would end up lost at sea if things continued this way. With this negative trending in mind, I approached their eponymously titled fifth album with a gnawing sense of dread. Would this signify surrender to the forces of diminishing recordings, or would they make a push to reclaim the lofty heights of Absolution and Hunted? With teeth clenched, I pressed play and prayed for Mojo.

It turns out, Khemmis is a partial return to what we heard on Desolation, but with some crucial differences. Firstly, the songs are all much shorter and tighter, with only one cracking the 6-minute mark. Secondly, their blending of classic and epic doom with trve and traditional heavy metal and blackened influences feels more carefully thought out, and it flows better than it did on Deceiver. The songsmithing is also vastly superior this time. Most importantly, they haven’t lost sight of the fact that they’re a doom band at heart, despite this being a more “accessible” sound for them. Opener “Invocation of the Dreamer” runs from black metal aggression into classic heavy metal and onward into doom without becoming disorienting. It’s an engaging, entertaining song from start to finish, and it will remind you of roughly 20 other acts as it shifts tempos and genres in smart, interesting ways. There are even hints of Archspire in some of the neo-classic guitar noodling. “Corpsebloom Garden” is a dead ringer for Crypt Sermon, and it works as an epic doom sonnet despite the occasional death vocals, which add a nice edge to the otherwise forlorn clean singing. “Grief’s Reverie” keeps the epic doom coming with an uptick of trve badassery, and the death vox shares space with a kind of radio-ready vocal style from Phil that’s unexpected but cool.

The best stuff comes later on, with my personal favorite being “Beneath the Scythe.” This is doom for those who want the classic style married to the trve in never-ending holy headlock. It adroitly conjoins classic doom and heavy metal with just enough chest-thumping badassery to win me over. It’s a legitimately great song and one of the band’s best. “Carrion King” starts with scathing, blasting black metal before settling down into a sort of mellow doom with upbeat clean vocals, only to mutate into absolutely crushing death-doom. There are some harsh, gruesome moments here that reek of Triptykon, re-establishing the band’s doom bona vides. Closer “Benediction Tones” is classic doom with moments of upbeat, poppy vocals that could be on a YES album, and it shouldn’t work, but it definitely does. At a trim, muscular 42 minutes, Khemmis glides by effortlessly and demands replays.

As ever, the Khemmis formula depends on Ben Hutcherson and Phil Pendergast successfully beguiling us with killer riffs and memorable vocal exchanges. Phil improves as a singer with every release, and some of his most gripping, poignant moments occur here. He drifts from wounded sadboi to burly trve metal and hits into AOR at key moments, all effectively rendered. Ben provides nasty death roars and guttural spewings and plays the rampaging beast to Phil’s morose beauty. Guitar-wise, they deliver a lot of killer moments too, with somber, melancholic leads and harmonies rubbing against blackened mania and death-doom when they aren’t engaged in 80s metal gallops and NWoBHM noodling. It’s a heady mix, and it all hangs together because the writing is sound and focused.

While Khemmis doesn’t bring the band back to the glory days of Hunted, it does find them righting the ship and sailing in the right direction. In fact, the album glides right between the Very Good and the Great with no song feeling like a letdown. I’m very relieved to see Khemmis back in the black with a release I enjoy from start to finish, and this will be getting mucho airtime over the next few months. Mojo listens to his faithful apes!

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Nuclear Blast
Websites: khemmis.bandcamp.com | khemmisdoom.com | facebook.com/khemmisdoom | instagram.com/khemmisdoom
Releases Worldwide: June 12th, 2026

Lavender Larcenist

Over a decade ago, I made a concerted effort to get into doom metal. Like many of my fellow writers, sitting down to delve into new genres or artists is a favorite pastime. So, I bought myself a copy of Decibel Magazine’s special edition issue that focused on their top 100 doom metal albums and dove right in. Needless to say, I fell in love, and one of my favorites to this day is Khemmis. The band’s brand of doom was immediately captivating, with Phil Pendergast’s echoing, enveloping vocals and sword-and-sorcery-as-metaphor lyrics. They remain a staple in my household to this day, and their 2016 magnum opus Hunted is one of my all-time favorite records. Now they are back after a five-year gap with their eponymous album, Khemmis. Typically, a self-titled release signals a change in direction or the solidification of a trademark sound, but is this record a new lease on life for Khemmis or a creative stumble for an incredibly consistent doom metal staple?

Contrary to our Simian Sovereign (lashings forthcoming for this difference in opinion), I found Deciever to be one of Khemmis’ best records, and their trademark sound was still as affecting and pervasive as ever. The last thing I expected was a reevaluation of their endeavors, but as an artist myself, the war against creative stagnation never ends. I fully understand why the band would want to branch out, and while Khemmis isn’t a sea change in the way some acts completely reinvent themselves, it feels markedly different than anything they have previously done. The doom is toned down significantly, and the heavy metal is dialed up, while a not-insignificant number of death and borderline power metal influences have seeped in. Big choruses anchor each, while the roaming guitars and drawn-out tones of previous records are all but missing. There are no thirteen-minute epics, and the majority of the tracks follow the lines of songs that were previously one-off pace-breakers, such as the indomitable “Three Gates” or the bouncing “Isolation”.

Khemmis is straightforward as far as the band’s previous records go. The album bleeds together on the first few listens, and songs tend to follow the same flow and general pacing. It falls into the trap of being stuffed with mid-paced rockers, making it hard to differentiate between listens without really digging in. While not immediately grabbing, Khemmis begins to show its strengths with repeated spins. Tracks may all be mid-paced and conceptually repetitive, but every one is incredibly solid to downright great. Only one chorus stuck out to me as grating; “Gilded Chambers” is an all-around solid song with a ripping opening riff and great melodies, but the chorus reminds me of power metal or even something like Boston, ripped straight from the annals of classic rock. Ultimately, it is campy, and the backing harmonic vocals send it into the stratosphere of cheese. The track isn’t bad, but just not to my taste, especially for Khemmis.

Longtime fans like myself may be left wanting for the doom epics of olde, but there is no shortage of great music on this record. Outside of the album’s repetitive pacing and some odd stylistic choices, there is very little to complain about. “Invocation of the Dreamer” is classic Khemmis and an immediately gripping song that features incredible work on the low end instrumentally and vocally from Ben Hutcherson. Production throughout is solid if a little safe; everything has its place, and the bass is a highlight, but there is little range from song to song. For a self-titled record, I was hoping for more creativity and bombast from a band that has so many great records under its belt. Khemmis, like the production, is very safe. While not breaking the mold, it does stand as a testament to the band’s ability to write catchy, melodic death doom. “Grief’s Reverie,” “Beneath the Scythe,” and album closer “Benediction Tones” are highlights outside of the aformented opening track.

While Khemmis slightly disappointed me as a superfan, I was able to move beyond what I wanted from the record and fully appreciate its more focused approach. Khemmis doesn’t reach the heights of previous releases, but it is still a very solid album that straddles the line between heavy metal and death doom, making for a listen that is immediately more approachable than their previous records but less rewarding as a result. It seems like Khemmis wants to move away from their traditional doom metal trappings and lean into more arena-driven, heavy metal tracks, and for a band with their talent, the sky is the limit.

Rating: Very Good

Conjurer – Unself Review

By Dear Hollow

I’m beginning to think Mire was a fluke. I’m not saying that as a bad thing, but I remember listening to Conjurer’s debut and thinking that it was a top post-metal album steeped in atmosphere and enigma, tied together with vicious vocals and vindictive weight.1 So then, I was immensely let down by follow-up Páthos because it seemed to shed substance for novelty: if I’m being honest, its stark dichotomy of heartwrenching melodies and kickass riffs felt inauthentic and shoehorned. Thus, I approached Unself carefully, hoping for something like Mire but tentatively expecting Páthos. What I got, however, was neither. You see, Mire was a fluke not in quality but in approach, because Unself proves that Conjurer prioritizes riff, weaponizing it for the very human tale of the deconstruction of self.

The title track enters with what I would expect from an early 2010s metalcore band intro,2 the Americana cover of 1919 gospel song “I Can’t Feel At Home in this World Anymore” morphing into a full-on dissodeath takedown via a barb of squealing dissonance. While this and the final song, “The World is Not My Home” seem to tie up the album into a thematic deconstruction of religion, Unself is a bit more complex than that. It reflects the journey of vocalist/guitarist Dani Nightingale through an autism diagnosis and discovery of them being non-binary. Similarly reflecting this complexity and remaining incredibly difficult to neatly categorize its sonic assault, Conjurer lays a foundation of post-metal’s meandering rhythmic hulk with death metal intensity, sludge tonal abuse, and a sleek modern production built atop, with – in Unself – hints of black metal. It’s not the second coming of Mire – it’s Unself and undeniably on-brand and completely authentic – and that’s perfectly okay for Conjurer.

Unself’s structure shows Conjurer’s devotion to natural growth, a welcome change from the shoehorned Páthos – largely because Nightingale’s sonic struggles with self-discovery undergird the movements. The two halves of the album are divided into three tracks, bookended by the Huntsmen-influenced thematic motif of the aforesaid “I Can’t Feel at Home in This World” morphed into ugly beatdowns and yearning sadness. The meat of the two suites fall into one of three categories: the relatively traditional post-metal waltzing of Amenra’s heavier moments in sprawling weight (“All Apart,” “Foreclosure”), the yearning chord progressions and melodies recalling Páthos’ emotive emphasis to a more effective degree (“There Is No Warmth,” “Let Us Live”), or the outright assaults of blackened sludge and -core breakdowns (“The Searing Glow,” “Hang Them in Your Head”). As the album progresses, so does the intensity. The latter, the most vicious of the bunch, feel like they nearly boil over, nearly forsaking the post-metal attack for an obscure death metal attack a la Convulsing or Adversarial – making interlude “A Plea” truly the eye of the storm in its minimalist approach, distant vocal samples, and acoustic strumming.

The balance between novelty and songwriting remains an issue for Conjurer. Because of the trichotomy of its sounds, Unself offers different levels of quality. At first, the more traditional post-metal cuts (“All Apart,” “Foreclosure”) feel like absolute bangers, touched with darkness and harmony – but then you hear the other two approaches and they suddenly feel overly long and uneventful in comparison. Likewise, there are several tracks that could stand a good trimming, simply because many feature a singular abrupt tonal shift from melodic to dissonant in its last respective third (“There is No Warmth,” “Let Us Live”). A more divisive take is that Conjurer’s production is very modern and sleek, the down-tuned leads more akin to 2010s metalcore acts like The Plot in You or The Sorrow, an accessibility largely contradicting post-metal’s historic opaqueness (Neurosis) and death metal’s hostility (Bolt Thrower), so while I liked its more “loud and ouchy” tones, others may not be so persuaded.

The novelty and the emotion are resolved in Unself, as Conjurer finally feels authentic and realized. No, Unself is not better than Mire, but it feels more genuine and human than Páthos, offering some of the act’s most intense material to date while chronicling the dismantling of the self into something more authentic. Not only does Dani Nightingale embark on a journey of self-discovery, but Conjurer does too. I’m just happy to be along for the ride.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 4 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Nuclear Blast Records
Websites: conjureruk.bandcamp.com | conjureruk.com | facebook.com/conjureruk
Releases Worldwide: October 24th, 2025

#2025 #30 #Adversarial #Amenra #BlackMetal #BoltThrower #BritishMetal #Conjurer #Convulsing #DeathMetal #DissonantDeathMetal #Huntsmen #Neurosis #NuclearBlastRecords #Oct25 #PostMetal #Review #Reviews #SludgeMetal #TheOngoingConcept #ThePlotInYou #TheSorrow #Unself #VeilOfMaya

Conjurer – Unself Review

By Dear Hollow

I’m beginning to think Mire was a fluke. I’m not saying that as a bad thing, but I remember listening to Conjurer’s debut and thinking that it was a top post-metal album steeped in atmosphere and enigma, tied together with vicious vocals and vindictive weight.1 So then, I was immensely let down by follow-up Páthos because it seemed to shed substance for novelty: if I’m being honest, its stark dichotomy of heartwrenching melodies and kickass riffs felt inauthentic and shoehorned. Thus, I approached Unself carefully, hoping for something like Mire but tentatively expecting Páthos. What I got, however, was neither. You see, Mire was a fluke not in quality but in approach, because Unself proves that Conjurer prioritizes riff, weaponizing it for the very human tale of the deconstruction of self.

The title track enters with what I would expect from an early 2010s metalcore band intro,2 the Americana cover of 1919 gospel song “I Can’t Feel At Home in this World Anymore” morphing into a full-on dissodeath takedown via a barb of squealing dissonance. While this and the final song, “The World is Not My Home” seem to tie up the album into a thematic deconstruction of religion, Unself is a bit more complex than that. It reflects the journey of vocalist/guitarist Dani Nightingale through an autism diagnosis and discovery of them being non-binary. Similarly reflecting this complexity and remaining incredibly difficult to neatly categorize its sonic assault, Conjurer lays a foundation of post-metal’s meandering rhythmic hulk with death metal intensity, sludge tonal abuse, and a sleek modern production built atop, with – in Unself – hints of black metal. It’s not the second coming of Mire – it’s Unself and undeniably on-brand and completely authentic – and that’s perfectly okay for Conjurer.

Unself’s structure shows Conjurer’s devotion to natural growth, a welcome change from the shoehorned Páthos – largely because Nightingale’s sonic struggles with self-discovery undergird the movements. The two halves of the album are divided into three tracks, bookended by the Huntsmen-influenced thematic motif of the aforesaid “I Can’t Feel at Home in This World” morphed into ugly beatdowns and yearning sadness. The meat of the two suites fall into one of three categories: the relatively traditional post-metal waltzing of Amenra’s heavier moments in sprawling weight (“All Apart,” “Foreclosure”), the yearning chord progressions and melodies recalling Páthos’ emotive emphasis to a more effective degree (“There Is No Warmth,” “Let Us Live”), or the outright assaults of blackened sludge and -core breakdowns (“The Searing Glow,” “Hang Them in Your Head”). As the album progresses, so does the intensity. The latter, the most vicious of the bunch, feel like they nearly boil over, nearly forsaking the post-metal attack for an obscure death metal attack a la Convulsing or Adversarial – making interlude “A Plea” truly the eye of the storm in its minimalist approach, distant vocal samples, and acoustic strumming.

The balance between novelty and songwriting remains an issue for Conjurer. Because of the trichotomy of its sounds, Unself offers different levels of quality. At first, the more traditional post-metal cuts (“All Apart,” “Foreclosure”) feel like absolute bangers, touched with darkness and harmony – but then you hear the other two approaches and they suddenly feel overly long and uneventful in comparison. Likewise, there are several tracks that could stand a good trimming, simply because many feature a singular abrupt tonal shift from melodic to dissonant in its last respective third (“There is No Warmth,” “Let Us Live”). A more divisive take is that Conjurer’s production is very modern and sleek, the down-tuned leads more akin to 2010s metalcore acts like The Plot in You or The Sorrow, an accessibility largely contradicting post-metal’s historic opaqueness (Neurosis) and death metal’s hostility (Bolt Thrower), so while I liked its more “loud and ouchy” tones, others may not be so persuaded.

The novelty and the emotion are resolved in Unself, as Conjurer finally feels authentic and realized. No, Unself is not better than Mire, but it feels more genuine and human than Páthos, offering some of the act’s most intense material to date while chronicling the dismantling of the self into something more authentic. Not only does Dani Nightingale embark on a journey of self-discovery, but Conjurer does too. I’m just happy to be along for the ride.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 4 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Nuclear Blast Records
Websites: conjureruk.bandcamp.com | conjureruk.com | facebook.com/conjureruk
Releases Worldwide: October 24th, 2025

#2025 #30 #Adversarial #Amenra #BlackMetal #BoltThrower #BritishMetal #Conjurer #Convulsing #DeathMetal #DissonantDeathMetal #Huntsmen #Neurosis #NuclearBlastRecords #Oct25 #PostMetal #Review #Reviews #SludgeMetal #TheOngoingConcept #ThePlotInYou #TheSorrow #Unself #VeilOfMaya

Conjurer – Unself Review

By Dear Hollow

I’m beginning to think Mire was a fluke. I’m not saying that as a bad thing, but I remember listening to Conjurer’s debut and thinking that it was a top post-metal album steeped in atmosphere and enigma, tied together with vicious vocals and vindictive weight.1 So then, I was immensely let down by follow-up Páthos because it seemed to shed substance for novelty: if I’m being honest, its stark dichotomy of heartwrenching melodies and kickass riffs felt inauthentic and shoehorned. Thus, I approached Unself carefully, hoping for something like Mire but tentatively expecting Páthos. What I got, however, was neither. You see, Mire was a fluke not in quality but in approach, because Unself proves that Conjurer prioritizes riff, weaponizing it for the very human tale of the deconstruction of self.

The title track enters with what I would expect from an early 2010s metalcore band intro,2 the Americana cover of 1919 gospel song “I Can’t Feel At Home in this World Anymore” morphing into a full-on dissodeath takedown via a barb of squealing dissonance. While this and the final song, “The World is Not My Home” seem to tie up the album into a thematic deconstruction of religion, Unself is a bit more complex than that. It reflects the journey of vocalist/guitarist Dani Nightingale through an autism diagnosis and discovery of them being non-binary. Similarly reflecting this complexity and remaining incredibly difficult to neatly categorize its sonic assault, Conjurer lays a foundation of post-metal’s meandering rhythmic hulk with death metal intensity, sludge tonal abuse, and a sleek modern production built atop, with – in Unself – hints of black metal. It’s not the second coming of Mire – it’s Unself and undeniably on-brand and completely authentic – and that’s perfectly okay for Conjurer.

Unself’s structure shows Conjurer’s devotion to natural growth, a welcome change from the shoehorned Páthos – largely because Nightingale’s sonic struggles with self-discovery undergird the movements. The two halves of the album are divided into three tracks, bookended by the Huntsmen-influenced thematic motif of the aforesaid “I Can’t Feel at Home in This World” morphed into ugly beatdowns and yearning sadness. The meat of the two suites fall into one of three categories: the relatively traditional post-metal waltzing of Amenra’s heavier moments in sprawling weight (“All Apart,” “Foreclosure”), the yearning chord progressions and melodies recalling Páthos’ emotive emphasis to a more effective degree (“There Is No Warmth,” “Let Us Live”), or the outright assaults of blackened sludge and -core breakdowns (“The Searing Glow,” “Hang Them in Your Head”). As the album progresses, so does the intensity. The latter, the most vicious of the bunch, feel like they nearly boil over, nearly forsaking the post-metal attack for an obscure death metal attack a la Convulsing or Adversarial – making interlude “A Plea” truly the eye of the storm in its minimalist approach, distant vocal samples, and acoustic strumming.

The balance between novelty and songwriting remains an issue for Conjurer. Because of the trichotomy of its sounds, Unself offers different levels of quality. At first, the more traditional post-metal cuts (“All Apart,” “Foreclosure”) feel like absolute bangers, touched with darkness and harmony – but then you hear the other two approaches and they suddenly feel overly long and uneventful in comparison. Likewise, there are several tracks that could stand a good trimming, simply because many feature a singular abrupt tonal shift from melodic to dissonant in its last respective third (“There is No Warmth,” “Let Us Live”). A more divisive take is that Conjurer’s production is very modern and sleek, the down-tuned leads more akin to 2010s metalcore acts like The Plot in You or The Sorrow, an accessibility largely contradicting post-metal’s historic opaqueness (Neurosis) and death metal’s hostility (Bolt Thrower), so while I liked its more “loud and ouchy” tones, others may not be so persuaded.

The novelty and the emotion are resolved in Unself, as Conjurer finally feels authentic and realized. No, Unself is not better than Mire, but it feels more genuine and human than Páthos, offering some of the act’s most intense material to date while chronicling the dismantling of the self into something more authentic. Not only does Dani Nightingale embark on a journey of self-discovery, but Conjurer does too. I’m just happy to be along for the ride.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 4 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Nuclear Blast Records
Websites: conjureruk.bandcamp.com | conjureruk.com | facebook.com/conjureruk
Releases Worldwide: October 24th, 2025

#2025 #30 #Adversarial #Amenra #BlackMetal #BoltThrower #BritishMetal #Conjurer #Convulsing #DeathMetal #DissonantDeathMetal #Huntsmen #Neurosis #NuclearBlastRecords #Oct25 #PostMetal #Review #Reviews #SludgeMetal #TheOngoingConcept #ThePlotInYou #TheSorrow #Unself #VeilOfMaya

Conjurer – Unself Review

By Dear Hollow

I’m beginning to think Mire was a fluke. I’m not saying that as a bad thing, but I remember listening to Conjurer’s debut and thinking that it was a top post-metal album steeped in atmosphere and enigma, tied together with vicious vocals and vindictive weight.1 So then, I was immensely let down by follow-up Páthos because it seemed to shed substance for novelty: if I’m being honest, its stark dichotomy of heartwrenching melodies and kickass riffs felt inauthentic and shoehorned. Thus, I approached Unself carefully, hoping for something like Mire but tentatively expecting Páthos. What I got, however, was neither. You see, Mire was a fluke not in quality but in approach, because Unself proves that Conjurer prioritizes riff, weaponizing it for the very human tale of the deconstruction of self.

The title track enters with what I would expect from an early 2010s metalcore band intro,2 the Americana cover of 1919 gospel song “I Can’t Feel At Home in this World Anymore” morphing into a full-on dissodeath takedown via a barb of squealing dissonance. While this and the final song, “The World is Not My Home” seem to tie up the album into a thematic deconstruction of religion, Unself is a bit more complex than that. It reflects the journey of vocalist/guitarist Dani Nightingale through an autism diagnosis and discovery of them being non-binary. Similarly reflecting this complexity and remaining incredibly difficult to neatly categorize its sonic assault, Conjurer lays a foundation of post-metal’s meandering rhythmic hulk with death metal intensity, sludge tonal abuse, and a sleek modern production built atop, with – in Unself – hints of black metal. It’s not the second coming of Mire – it’s Unself and undeniably on-brand and completely authentic – and that’s perfectly okay for Conjurer.

Unself’s structure shows Conjurer’s devotion to natural growth, a welcome change from the shoehorned Páthos – largely because Nightingale’s sonic struggles with self-discovery undergird the movements. The two halves of the album are divided into three tracks, bookended by the Huntsmen-influenced thematic motif of the aforesaid “I Can’t Feel at Home in This World” morphed into ugly beatdowns and yearning sadness. The meat of the two suites fall into one of three categories: the relatively traditional post-metal waltzing of Amenra’s heavier moments in sprawling weight (“All Apart,” “Foreclosure”), the yearning chord progressions and melodies recalling Páthos’ emotive emphasis to a more effective degree (“There Is No Warmth,” “Let Us Live”), or the outright assaults of blackened sludge and -core breakdowns (“The Searing Glow,” “Hang Them in Your Head”). As the album progresses, so does the intensity. The latter, the most vicious of the bunch, feel like they nearly boil over, nearly forsaking the post-metal attack for an obscure death metal attack a la Convulsing or Adversarial – making interlude “A Plea” truly the eye of the storm in its minimalist approach, distant vocal samples, and acoustic strumming.

The balance between novelty and songwriting remains an issue for Conjurer. Because of the trichotomy of its sounds, Unself offers different levels of quality. At first, the more traditional post-metal cuts (“All Apart,” “Foreclosure”) feel like absolute bangers, touched with darkness and harmony – but then you hear the other two approaches and they suddenly feel overly long and uneventful in comparison. Likewise, there are several tracks that could stand a good trimming, simply because many feature a singular abrupt tonal shift from melodic to dissonant in its last respective third (“There is No Warmth,” “Let Us Live”). A more divisive take is that Conjurer’s production is very modern and sleek, the down-tuned leads more akin to 2010s metalcore acts like The Plot in You or The Sorrow, an accessibility largely contradicting post-metal’s historic opaqueness (Neurosis) and death metal’s hostility (Bolt Thrower), so while I liked its more “loud and ouchy” tones, others may not be so persuaded.

The novelty and the emotion are resolved in Unself, as Conjurer finally feels authentic and realized. No, Unself is not better than Mire, but it feels more genuine and human than Páthos, offering some of the act’s most intense material to date while chronicling the dismantling of the self into something more authentic. Not only does Dani Nightingale embark on a journey of self-discovery, but Conjurer does too. I’m just happy to be along for the ride.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 4 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Nuclear Blast Records
Websites: conjureruk.bandcamp.com | conjureruk.com | facebook.com/conjureruk
Releases Worldwide: October 24th, 2025

#2025 #30 #Adversarial #Amenra #BlackMetal #BoltThrower #BritishMetal #Conjurer #Convulsing #DeathMetal #DissonantDeathMetal #Huntsmen #Neurosis #NuclearBlastRecords #Oct25 #PostMetal #Review #Reviews #SludgeMetal #TheOngoingConcept #ThePlotInYou #TheSorrow #Unself #VeilOfMaya

Conjurer – Unself Review

By Dear Hollow

I’m beginning to think Mire was a fluke. I’m not saying that as a bad thing, but I remember listening to Conjurer’s debut and thinking that it was a top post-metal album steeped in atmosphere and enigma, tied together with vicious vocals and vindictive weight.1 So then, I was immensely let down by follow-up Páthos because it seemed to shed substance for novelty: if I’m being honest, its stark dichotomy of heartwrenching melodies and kickass riffs felt inauthentic and shoehorned. Thus, I approached Unself carefully, hoping for something like Mire but tentatively expecting Páthos. What I got, however, was neither. You see, Mire was a fluke not in quality but in approach, because Unself proves that Conjurer prioritizes riff, weaponizing it for the very human tale of the deconstruction of self.

The title track enters with what I would expect from an early 2010s metalcore band intro,2 the Americana cover of 1919 gospel song “I Can’t Feel At Home in this World Anymore” morphing into a full-on dissodeath takedown via a barb of squealing dissonance. While this and the final song, “The World is Not My Home” seem to tie up the album into a thematic deconstruction of religion, Unself is a bit more complex than that. It reflects the journey of vocalist/guitarist Dani Nightingale through an autism diagnosis and discovery of them being non-binary. Similarly reflecting this complexity and remaining incredibly difficult to neatly categorize its sonic assault, Conjurer lays a foundation of post-metal’s meandering rhythmic hulk with death metal intensity, sludge tonal abuse, and a sleek modern production built atop, with – in Unself – hints of black metal. It’s not the second coming of Mire – it’s Unself and undeniably on-brand and completely authentic – and that’s perfectly okay for Conjurer.

Unself’s structure shows Conjurer’s devotion to natural growth, a welcome change from the shoehorned Páthos – largely because Nightingale’s sonic struggles with self-discovery undergird the movements. The two halves of the album are divided into three tracks, bookended by the Huntsmen-influenced thematic motif of the aforesaid “I Can’t Feel at Home in This World” morphed into ugly beatdowns and yearning sadness. The meat of the two suites fall into one of three categories: the relatively traditional post-metal waltzing of Amenra’s heavier moments in sprawling weight (“All Apart,” “Foreclosure”), the yearning chord progressions and melodies recalling Páthos’ emotive emphasis to a more effective degree (“There Is No Warmth,” “Let Us Live”), or the outright assaults of blackened sludge and -core breakdowns (“The Searing Glow,” “Hang Them in Your Head”). As the album progresses, so does the intensity. The latter, the most vicious of the bunch, feel like they nearly boil over, nearly forsaking the post-metal attack for an obscure death metal attack a la Convulsing or Adversarial – making interlude “A Plea” truly the eye of the storm in its minimalist approach, distant vocal samples, and acoustic strumming.

The balance between novelty and songwriting remains an issue for Conjurer. Because of the trichotomy of its sounds, Unself offers different levels of quality. At first, the more traditional post-metal cuts (“All Apart,” “Foreclosure”) feel like absolute bangers, touched with darkness and harmony – but then you hear the other two approaches and they suddenly feel overly long and uneventful in comparison. Likewise, there are several tracks that could stand a good trimming, simply because many feature a singular abrupt tonal shift from melodic to dissonant in its last respective third (“There is No Warmth,” “Let Us Live”). A more divisive take is that Conjurer’s production is very modern and sleek, the down-tuned leads more akin to 2010s metalcore acts like The Plot in You or The Sorrow, an accessibility largely contradicting post-metal’s historic opaqueness (Neurosis) and death metal’s hostility (Bolt Thrower), so while I liked its more “loud and ouchy” tones, others may not be so persuaded.

The novelty and the emotion are resolved in Unself, as Conjurer finally feels authentic and realized. No, Unself is not better than Mire, but it feels more genuine and human than Páthos, offering some of the act’s most intense material to date while chronicling the dismantling of the self into something more authentic. Not only does Dani Nightingale embark on a journey of self-discovery, but Conjurer does too. I’m just happy to be along for the ride.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 4 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Nuclear Blast Records
Websites: conjureruk.bandcamp.com | conjureruk.com | facebook.com/conjureruk
Releases Worldwide: October 24th, 2025

#2025 #30 #Adversarial #Amenra #BlackMetal #BoltThrower #BritishMetal #Conjurer #Convulsing #DeathMetal #DissonantDeathMetal #Huntsmen #Neurosis #NuclearBlastRecords #Oct25 #PostMetal #Review #Reviews #SludgeMetal #TheOngoingConcept #ThePlotInYou #TheSorrow #Unself #VeilOfMaya

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Watch: KINGS OF THRASH Joined By RIOT's RICK VENTURA For Cover Of 'Swords And Tequila'
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https://blabbermouth.net/news/watch-kings-of-thrash-joined-by-riots-rick-ventura-for-cover-of-swords-and-tequila

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