#octoberfalls — Public Fediverse posts

Numinous – Returning Review

By Twelve

Cascadian black metal is not a term you hear too often (unless you’re some kind of Cascadian black metal fan who regularly searches the term), but that’s what I was offered when I started looking into Returning. After I was done being enamored by the lovely cover art over there, I had to remind myself what it meant—and when I did, I was more than happy to dive in blind. The sophomore full-length from Numinous, Returning aims at a wild sound, boasting “emotional melodies, introspective ritual elements, and deeply thoughtful lyrics.”1 That checks all of the boxes for me—how does this particular branch of atmospheric black metal hold up to its inspiration and its contemporaries?

The natural imagery and theme to Returning is its most notable quality, and is expressed in several different ways throughout. Black metal this may well be, but it takes several minutes for the metal bit to get started and it makes up less of the album whole than you’d think. Still, I don’t mind a slow build, nor am I opposed to heightened thematic relevance. I don’t mind nature noises, acoustic guitars, plucked passages, tremolo riffs, all of which Numinous happily provide. The ambient passages are reminiscent of Wolves in the Throne Room, while the metal bits remind me, curiously, of October Falls—rough around the edges, but lively and spirited, with the tremolo leads in particular carrying melody and passion in a thematic, evocative way.

If only there were more of them! The lead guitar carries the emotional weight of Numinous, but gets little time to shine throughout, mostly on opener “Sacred Decay.” So much of Returning is dedicated to ambient passages or nature noises; so much of the metal songs use the same-sounding bludgeoning bass riff; and so much of the vocal approach is in a hoarse, not-a-growl, not-a-shout style that doesn’t land for me. When Numinous isn’t rocking an emotive, melodic lead, their music is often blending in with itself, losing memorability and impact. “Offerings to the Great Circle” has some strong ideas: an acoustic build to a thundering riff, an effectively creepy break around the one-third mark. These all represent great moments, but too often, they feel like they’re only moments—here one second, and gone the next, swept up by the next new idea that doesn’t make quite the same impact.

It doesn’t help that the full album is only three songs long, nor that “Offerings to the Great Circle” alone is twenty minutes out of forty-six. The three pieces are fairly distinct from one another, too—”Endless Dance” has no metal in it at all, but rather cycles through traditional drumming, nature samples, Forndom-style strings passages, and finally an acoustic build to the next song. All of this would be fine were the song not eleven minutes long, or maybe if it wasn’t following a thirteen-minute-long black metal song—or if didn’t “end” each time it introduces a new idea (it could easily be three distinct songs, with the acoustic end being far and away the best one). I mentioned earlier that “Offerings to the Great Circle” has some strong moments, but it similarly creaks under its weight, and could have been both shortened and split.2 All of this creates for me an image of an unrealized ambition, a vision Numinous has for Returning that I lost somewhere in the translation.

And it’s an honest shame, because I do think that somewhere or, perhaps, in several places—along the way, this band with a sound I like made some choices that I don’t care for, and now they and I are looking at two different things. The vision, passion, and technical skill are largely present, but as I listen to the four-minute-long ambient outro to “Offerings to the Great Circle” for what will be the final time, I can’t help but feel disappointed by the result.

Rating: 2.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Bindrune Recordings
Website: bindrunerecordings.bandcamp.com/album/numinous
Releases Worldwide: June 20th, 2025

#20 #2025 #AmericanMetal #BindruneRecordings #BlackMetal #Forndom #Jun25 #Numinous #OctoberFalls #Returning #Review #Reviews #WolvesInTheThroneRoom

Numinous – Returning Review

By Twelve

Cascadian black metal is not a term you hear too often (unless you’re some kind of Cascadian black metal fan who regularly searches the term), but that’s what I was offered when I started looking into Returning. After I was done being enamored by the lovely cover art over there, I had to remind myself what it meant—and when I did, I was more than happy to dive in blind. The sophomore full-length from Numinous, Returning aims at a wild sound, boasting “emotional melodies, introspective ritual elements, and deeply thoughtful lyrics.”1 That checks all of the boxes for me—how does this particular branch of atmospheric black metal hold up to its inspiration and its contemporaries?

The natural imagery and theme to Returning is its most notable quality, and is expressed in several different ways throughout. Black metal this may well be, but it takes several minutes for the metal bit to get started and it makes up less of the album whole than you’d think. Still, I don’t mind a slow build, nor am I opposed to heightened thematic relevance. I don’t mind nature noises, acoustic guitars, plucked passages, tremolo riffs, all of which Numinous happily provide. The ambient passages are reminiscent of Wolves in the Throne Room, while the metal bits remind me, curiously, of October Falls—rough around the edges, but lively and spirited, with the tremolo leads in particular carrying melody and passion in a thematic, evocative way.

If only there were more of them! The lead guitar carries the emotional weight of Numinous, but gets little time to shine throughout, mostly on opener “Sacred Decay.” So much of Returning is dedicated to ambient passages or nature noises; so much of the metal songs use the same-sounding bludgeoning bass riff; and so much of the vocal approach is in a hoarse, not-a-growl, not-a-shout style that doesn’t land for me. When Numinous isn’t rocking an emotive, melodic lead, their music is often blending in with itself, losing memorability and impact. “Offerings to the Great Circle” has some strong ideas: an acoustic build to a thundering riff, an effectively creepy break around the one-third mark. These all represent great moments, but too often, they feel like they’re only moments—here one second, and gone the next, swept up by the next new idea that doesn’t make quite the same impact.

It doesn’t help that the full album is only three songs long, nor that “Offerings to the Great Circle” alone is twenty minutes out of forty-six. The three pieces are fairly distinct from one another, too—”Endless Dance” has no metal in it at all, but rather cycles through traditional drumming, nature samples, Forndom-style strings passages, and finally an acoustic build to the next song. All of this would be fine were the song not eleven minutes long, or maybe if it wasn’t following a thirteen-minute-long black metal song—or if didn’t “end” each time it introduces a new idea (it could easily be three distinct songs, with the acoustic end being far and away the best one). I mentioned earlier that “Offerings to the Great Circle” has some strong moments, but it similarly creaks under its weight, and could have been both shortened and split.2 All of this creates for me an image of an unrealized ambition, a vision Numinous has for Returning that I lost somewhere in the translation.

And it’s an honest shame, because I do think that somewhere or, perhaps, in several places—along the way, this band with a sound I like made some choices that I don’t care for, and now they and I are looking at two different things. The vision, passion, and technical skill are largely present, but as I listen to the four-minute-long ambient outro to “Offerings to the Great Circle” for what will be the final time, I can’t help but feel disappointed by the result.

Rating: 2.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Bindrune Recordings
Website: bindrunerecordings.bandcamp.com/album/numinous
Releases Worldwide: June 20th, 2025

#20 #2025 #AmericanMetal #BindruneRecordings #BlackMetal #Forndom #Jun25 #Numinous #OctoberFalls #Returning #Review #Reviews #WolvesInTheThroneRoom

Numinous – Returning Review

By Twelve

Cascadian black metal is not a term you hear too often (unless you’re some kind of Cascadian black metal fan who regularly searches the term), but that’s what I was offered when I started looking into Returning. After I was done being enamored by the lovely cover art over there, I had to remind myself what it meant—and when I did, I was more than happy to dive in blind. The sophomore full-length from Numinous, Returning aims at a wild sound, boasting “emotional melodies, introspective ritual elements, and deeply thoughtful lyrics.”1 That checks all of the boxes for me—how does this particular branch of atmospheric black metal hold up to its inspiration and its contemporaries?

The natural imagery and theme to Returning is its most notable quality, and is expressed in several different ways throughout. Black metal this may well be, but it takes several minutes for the metal bit to get started and it makes up less of the album whole than you’d think. Still, I don’t mind a slow build, nor am I opposed to heightened thematic relevance. I don’t mind nature noises, acoustic guitars, plucked passages, tremolo riffs, all of which Numinous happily provide. The ambient passages are reminiscent of Wolves in the Throne Room, while the metal bits remind me, curiously, of October Falls—rough around the edges, but lively and spirited, with the tremolo leads in particular carrying melody and passion in a thematic, evocative way.

If only there were more of them! The lead guitar carries the emotional weight of Numinous, but gets little time to shine throughout, mostly on opener “Sacred Decay.” So much of Returning is dedicated to ambient passages or nature noises; so much of the metal songs use the same-sounding bludgeoning bass riff; and so much of the vocal approach is in a hoarse, not-a-growl, not-a-shout style that doesn’t land for me. When Numinous isn’t rocking an emotive, melodic lead, their music is often blending in with itself, losing memorability and impact. “Offerings to the Great Circle” has some strong ideas: an acoustic build to a thundering riff, an effectively creepy break around the one-third mark. These all represent great moments, but too often, they feel like they’re only moments—here one second, and gone the next, swept up by the next new idea that doesn’t make quite the same impact.

It doesn’t help that the full album is only three songs long, nor that “Offerings to the Great Circle” alone is twenty minutes out of forty-six. The three pieces are fairly distinct from one another, too—”Endless Dance” has no metal in it at all, but rather cycles through traditional drumming, nature samples, Forndom-style strings passages, and finally an acoustic build to the next song. All of this would be fine were the song not eleven minutes long, or maybe if it wasn’t following a thirteen-minute-long black metal song—or if didn’t “end” each time it introduces a new idea (it could easily be three distinct songs, with the acoustic end being far and away the best one). I mentioned earlier that “Offerings to the Great Circle” has some strong moments, but it similarly creaks under its weight, and could have been both shortened and split.2 All of this creates for me an image of an unrealized ambition, a vision Numinous has for Returning that I lost somewhere in the translation.

And it’s an honest shame, because I do think that somewhere or, perhaps, in several places—along the way, this band with a sound I like made some choices that I don’t care for, and now they and I are looking at two different things. The vision, passion, and technical skill are largely present, but as I listen to the four-minute-long ambient outro to “Offerings to the Great Circle” for what will be the final time, I can’t help but feel disappointed by the result.

Rating: 2.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Bindrune Recordings
Website: bindrunerecordings.bandcamp.com/album/numinous
Releases Worldwide: June 20th, 2025

#20 #2025 #AmericanMetal #BindruneRecordings #BlackMetal #Forndom #Jun25 #Numinous #OctoberFalls #Returning #Review #Reviews #WolvesInTheThroneRoom

Numinous – Returning Review

By Twelve

Cascadian black metal is not a term you hear too often (unless you’re some kind of Cascadian black metal fan who regularly searches the term), but that’s what I was offered when I started looking into Returning. After I was done being enamored by the lovely cover art over there, I had to remind myself what it meant—and when I did, I was more than happy to dive in blind. The sophomore full-length from Numinous, Returning aims at a wild sound, boasting “emotional melodies, introspective ritual elements, and deeply thoughtful lyrics.”1 That checks all of the boxes for me—how does this particular branch of atmospheric black metal hold up to its inspiration and its contemporaries?

The natural imagery and theme to Returning is its most notable quality, and is expressed in several different ways throughout. Black metal this may well be, but it takes several minutes for the metal bit to get started and it makes up less of the album whole than you’d think. Still, I don’t mind a slow build, nor am I opposed to heightened thematic relevance. I don’t mind nature noises, acoustic guitars, plucked passages, tremolo riffs, all of which Numinous happily provide. The ambient passages are reminiscent of Wolves in the Throne Room, while the metal bits remind me, curiously, of October Falls—rough around the edges, but lively and spirited, with the tremolo leads in particular carrying melody and passion in a thematic, evocative way.

If only there were more of them! The lead guitar carries the emotional weight of Numinous, but gets little time to shine throughout, mostly on opener “Sacred Decay.” So much of Returning is dedicated to ambient passages or nature noises; so much of the metal songs use the same-sounding bludgeoning bass riff; and so much of the vocal approach is in a hoarse, not-a-growl, not-a-shout style that doesn’t land for me. When Numinous isn’t rocking an emotive, melodic lead, their music is often blending in with itself, losing memorability and impact. “Offerings to the Great Circle” has some strong ideas: an acoustic build to a thundering riff, an effectively creepy break around the one-third mark. These all represent great moments, but too often, they feel like they’re only moments—here one second, and gone the next, swept up by the next new idea that doesn’t make quite the same impact.

It doesn’t help that the full album is only three songs long, nor that “Offerings to the Great Circle” alone is twenty minutes out of forty-six. The three pieces are fairly distinct from one another, too—”Endless Dance” has no metal in it at all, but rather cycles through traditional drumming, nature samples, Forndom-style strings passages, and finally an acoustic build to the next song. All of this would be fine were the song not eleven minutes long, or maybe if it wasn’t following a thirteen-minute-long black metal song—or if didn’t “end” each time it introduces a new idea (it could easily be three distinct songs, with the acoustic end being far and away the best one). I mentioned earlier that “Offerings to the Great Circle” has some strong moments, but it similarly creaks under its weight, and could have been both shortened and split.2 All of this creates for me an image of an unrealized ambition, a vision Numinous has for Returning that I lost somewhere in the translation.

And it’s an honest shame, because I do think that somewhere or, perhaps, in several places—along the way, this band with a sound I like made some choices that I don’t care for, and now they and I are looking at two different things. The vision, passion, and technical skill are largely present, but as I listen to the four-minute-long ambient outro to “Offerings to the Great Circle” for what will be the final time, I can’t help but feel disappointed by the result.

Rating: 2.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Bindrune Recordings
Website: bindrunerecordings.bandcamp.com/album/numinous
Releases Worldwide: June 20th, 2025

#20 #2025 #AmericanMetal #BindruneRecordings #BlackMetal #Forndom #Jun25 #Numinous #OctoberFalls #Returning #Review #Reviews #WolvesInTheThroneRoom

Nechochwen – Spelewithiipi Review

By Killjoy

It can be healthy for artists to periodically take time to reset and remember what first compelled them to start creating music. Aaron Carey originally founded Nechochwen in West Virginia as an unostentatious acoustic guitar project paying homage to his Native American lineage. It didn’t take long for black metal influence to emerge and with the addition of Andrew D’Cagna as the rhythm section, the two styles proved a potent pairing to explore the cultural history sewn into every note. 2015’s Heart of Akamon was well-received in the metal community and by our Vice Overlord Steel Druhm, who later went on to underrate their very good1 follow-up Kanawha Black. During all this time,2 Nechochwen had been quietly working on Spelewithiipi, a fully instrumental acoustic folk album akin to their debut full-length Algonkian Mythos. Can Nechochwen come full circle and revisit an older style without feeling like a step backward?

Nechochwen was always more inclined to reach for an acoustic guitar than an electric, but Spelewithiipi takes it a step further. Carey’s multi-tracked acoustic guitars enjoy near total exclusivity, plucking and strumming along like a bolder variation of older (and newer) October Falls. This is something of a double-edged sword—there is little to distract from the graceful guitar melodies, but the emotive burden of proof falling solely upon one instrument can be a challenging songwriting prospect. This may be why similar-minded neofolk albums from Thurnin and Wÿntër Ärvń in recent months opted to diversify with various other folk instrumentation, and Spelewithiipi follows suit, albeit sparingly. Here and there, indigenous drum beats (“Lenawe’owiin,” “Spelewithiipi,” “Primordial Passage”), a full drum kit (“Precipice of Stone”), and a gentle flute (“Lenawe’owiin,” “Spelewithiipi”) provide embellishment. This pared-back instrumentation is an important part of Spelewithiipi’s reverent, intimate nature.

At this point in his career, Carey can wring seemingly every ounce of breadth and depth from his weapon of choice. The acoustic guitar lines, usually appearing in pairs, flow and breathe as they fluctuate in intensity and complexity. Sometimes they’re straightforward, with clear lead and rhythm roles (“Nemacolin’s Path,” “Spelewithiipi”). Elsewhere, Nechochwen weaves multiple distinct melodies together into a more elegant soundscape (“Tpwiiwe,” “Precipice of Stone”). Unsurprisingly, the music is intrinsically bonded with nature, the rain sounds in “Othaškwa’alowethi behme” adding a mystical effect to the stream of twanging guitar notes. The best and most passionate performance lies in “Mthothwathiipi,” which features a gentle, cascading tune that gives way to vigorous fingerpicking laced with percussive slaps. The immense skill on display almost convinces me that Nechochwen might be better off in this unplugged realm.

Almost. Like a phantom limb, I find it impossible not to miss Nechochwen’s black metal side. In my view, their appeal mainly stemmed from the meticulous melding of acoustic folk with metal, not either component taken individually. Therefore, an attempt to decouple them was, perhaps, destined to yield a diminished result. Even setting aside genre preferences, Spelewithiipi lacks much of the structure and focus from when Nechochwen were grounded in black metal conventions. The first half of the record fares better thanks to more developed melodies, whereas the back half feels more barren and aimless (particularly “Primordial Passage”), but nearly every song suffers to some extent from rocky transitions or promising ideas cut short. With fewer musical handholds on Spelewithiipi, the overall songwriting needed to be more coherent and engaging to make up the difference.

Spelewithiipi is not an immediate album; it invites rather than seizes the listener’s attention. Accordingly, fans of Nechochwen’s recent work will likely need to manage expectations and exercise patience. As I spent time with it and let go of what I wanted to hear from Nechochwen, I gained greater appreciation of what they created. Aaron Carey plays heartfelt, stirring acoustic guitar lines the likes of which I’ve never heard before, and I’m in awe of his instrumental mastery. Yet, even the best guitarwork on Spelewithiipi is not quite as captivating as that of Heart of Akamon or Kanawha Black. This, plus the relinquishment of metal influence and its short 31-minute runtime, make it hard to see Spelewithiipi as a complete Nechochwen record. But, even so, this is still a pleasant walk through the woods worth taking.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 13 | Format Reviewed: 192 kbps mp3
Label: Nordvis Produktion
Websites: nechochwen-nordvis.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/nechochwen
Releases Worldwide: May 9th, 2025

#2025 #30 #AmericanMetal #DarkFolk #DarkNeofolk #Folk #Instrumental #May25 #Nechochwen #NordvisProduktion #NotMetal #OctoberFalls #Review #Reviews #Spelewithiipi #Thurnin #WÿntërÄrvń

Nechochwen – Spelewithiipi Review

By Killjoy

It can be healthy for artists to periodically take time to reset and remember what first compelled them to start creating music. Aaron Carey originally founded Nechochwen in West Virginia as an unostentatious acoustic guitar project paying homage to his Native American lineage. It didn’t take long for black metal influence to emerge and with the addition of Andrew D’Cagna as the rhythm section, the two styles proved a potent pairing to explore the cultural history sewn into every note. 2015’s Heart of Akamon was well-received in the metal community and by our Vice Overlord Steel Druhm, who later went on to underrate their very good1 follow-up Kanawha Black. During all this time,2 Nechochwen had been quietly working on Spelewithiipi, a fully instrumental acoustic folk album akin to their debut full-length Algonkian Mythos. Can Nechochwen come full circle and revisit an older style without feeling like a step backward?

Nechochwen was always more inclined to reach for an acoustic guitar than an electric, but Spelewithiipi takes it a step further. Carey’s multi-tracked acoustic guitars enjoy near total exclusivity, plucking and strumming along like a bolder variation of older (and newer) October Falls. This is something of a double-edged sword—there is little to distract from the graceful guitar melodies, but the emotive burden of proof falling solely upon one instrument can be a challenging songwriting prospect. This may be why similar-minded neofolk albums from Thurnin and Wÿntër Ärvń in recent months opted to diversify with various other folk instrumentation, and Spelewithiipi follows suit, albeit sparingly. Here and there, indigenous drum beats (“Lenawe’owiin,” “Spelewithiipi,” “Primordial Passage”), a full drum kit (“Precipice of Stone”), and a gentle flute (“Lenawe’owiin,” “Spelewithiipi”) provide embellishment. This pared-back instrumentation is an important part of Spelewithiipi’s reverent, intimate nature.

At this point in his career, Carey can wring seemingly every ounce of breadth and depth from his weapon of choice. The acoustic guitar lines, usually appearing in pairs, flow and breathe as they fluctuate in intensity and complexity. Sometimes they’re straightforward, with clear lead and rhythm roles (“Nemacolin’s Path,” “Spelewithiipi”). Elsewhere, Nechochwen weaves multiple distinct melodies together into a more elegant soundscape (“Tpwiiwe,” “Precipice of Stone”). Unsurprisingly, the music is intrinsically bonded with nature, the rain sounds in “Othaškwa’alowethi behme” adding a mystical effect to the stream of twanging guitar notes. The best and most passionate performance lies in “Mthothwathiipi,” which features a gentle, cascading tune that gives way to vigorous fingerpicking laced with percussive slaps. The immense skill on display almost convinces me that Nechochwen might be better off in this unplugged realm.

Almost. Like a phantom limb, I find it impossible not to miss Nechochwen’s black metal side. In my view, their appeal mainly stemmed from the meticulous melding of acoustic folk with metal, not either component taken individually. Therefore, an attempt to decouple them was, perhaps, destined to yield a diminished result. Even setting aside genre preferences, Spelewithiipi lacks much of the structure and focus from when Nechochwen were grounded in black metal conventions. The first half of the record fares better thanks to more developed melodies, whereas the back half feels more barren and aimless (particularly “Primordial Passage”), but nearly every song suffers to some extent from rocky transitions or promising ideas cut short. With fewer musical handholds on Spelewithiipi, the overall songwriting needed to be more coherent and engaging to make up the difference.

Spelewithiipi is not an immediate album; it invites rather than seizes the listener’s attention. Accordingly, fans of Nechochwen’s recent work will likely need to manage expectations and exercise patience. As I spent time with it and let go of what I wanted to hear from Nechochwen, I gained greater appreciation of what they created. Aaron Carey plays heartfelt, stirring acoustic guitar lines the likes of which I’ve never heard before, and I’m in awe of his instrumental mastery. Yet, even the best guitarwork on Spelewithiipi is not quite as captivating as that of Heart of Akamon or Kanawha Black. This, plus the relinquishment of metal influence and its short 31-minute runtime, make it hard to see Spelewithiipi as a complete Nechochwen record. But, even so, this is still a pleasant walk through the woods worth taking.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 13 | Format Reviewed: 192 kbps mp3
Label: Nordvis Produktion
Websites: nechochwen-nordvis.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/nechochwen
Releases Worldwide: May 9th, 2025

#2025 #30 #AmericanMetal #DarkFolk #DarkNeofolk #Folk #Instrumental #May25 #Nechochwen #NordvisProduktion #NotMetal #OctoberFalls #Review #Reviews #Spelewithiipi #Thurnin #WÿntërÄrvń

Nechochwen – Spelewithiipi Review

By Killjoy

It can be healthy for artists to periodically take time to reset and remember what first compelled them to start creating music. Aaron Carey originally founded Nechochwen in West Virginia as an unostentatious acoustic guitar project paying homage to his Native American lineage. It didn’t take long for black metal influence to emerge and with the addition of Andrew D’Cagna as the rhythm section, the two styles proved a potent pairing to explore the cultural history sewn into every note. 2015’s Heart of Akamon was well-received in the metal community and by our Vice Overlord Steel Druhm, who later went on to underrate their very good1 follow-up Kanawha Black. During all this time,2 Nechochwen had been quietly working on Spelewithiipi, a fully instrumental acoustic folk album akin to their debut full-length Algonkian Mythos. Can Nechochwen come full circle and revisit an older style without feeling like a step backward?

Nechochwen was always more inclined to reach for an acoustic guitar than an electric, but Spelewithiipi takes it a step further. Carey’s multi-tracked acoustic guitars enjoy near total exclusivity, plucking and strumming along like a bolder variation of older (and newer) October Falls. This is something of a double-edged sword—there is little to distract from the graceful guitar melodies, but the emotive burden of proof falling solely upon one instrument can be a challenging songwriting prospect. This may be why similar-minded neofolk albums from Thurnin and Wÿntër Ärvń in recent months opted to diversify with various other folk instrumentation, and Spelewithiipi follows suit, albeit sparingly. Here and there, indigenous drum beats (“Lenawe’owiin,” “Spelewithiipi,” “Primordial Passage”), a full drum kit (“Precipice of Stone”), and a gentle flute (“Lenawe’owiin,” “Spelewithiipi”) provide embellishment. This pared-back instrumentation is an important part of Spelewithiipi’s reverent, intimate nature.

At this point in his career, Carey can wring seemingly every ounce of breadth and depth from his weapon of choice. The acoustic guitar lines, usually appearing in pairs, flow and breathe as they fluctuate in intensity and complexity. Sometimes they’re straightforward, with clear lead and rhythm roles (“Nemacolin’s Path,” “Spelewithiipi”). Elsewhere, Nechochwen weaves multiple distinct melodies together into a more elegant soundscape (“Tpwiiwe,” “Precipice of Stone”). Unsurprisingly, the music is intrinsically bonded with nature, the rain sounds in “Othaškwa’alowethi behme” adding a mystical effect to the stream of twanging guitar notes. The best and most passionate performance lies in “Mthothwathiipi,” which features a gentle, cascading tune that gives way to vigorous fingerpicking laced with percussive slaps. The immense skill on display almost convinces me that Nechochwen might be better off in this unplugged realm.

Almost. Like a phantom limb, I find it impossible not to miss Nechochwen’s black metal side. In my view, their appeal mainly stemmed from the meticulous melding of acoustic folk with metal, not either component taken individually. Therefore, an attempt to decouple them was, perhaps, destined to yield a diminished result. Even setting aside genre preferences, Spelewithiipi lacks much of the structure and focus from when Nechochwen were grounded in black metal conventions. The first half of the record fares better thanks to more developed melodies, whereas the back half feels more barren and aimless (particularly “Primordial Passage”), but nearly every song suffers to some extent from rocky transitions or promising ideas cut short. With fewer musical handholds on Spelewithiipi, the overall songwriting needed to be more coherent and engaging to make up the difference.

Spelewithiipi is not an immediate album; it invites rather than seizes the listener’s attention. Accordingly, fans of Nechochwen’s recent work will likely need to manage expectations and exercise patience. As I spent time with it and let go of what I wanted to hear from Nechochwen, I gained greater appreciation of what they created. Aaron Carey plays heartfelt, stirring acoustic guitar lines the likes of which I’ve never heard before, and I’m in awe of his instrumental mastery. Yet, even the best guitarwork on Spelewithiipi is not quite as captivating as that of Heart of Akamon or Kanawha Black. This, plus the relinquishment of metal influence and its short 31-minute runtime, make it hard to see Spelewithiipi as a complete Nechochwen record. But, even so, this is still a pleasant walk through the woods worth taking.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 13 | Format Reviewed: 192 kbps mp3
Label: Nordvis Produktion
Websites: nechochwen-nordvis.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/nechochwen
Releases Worldwide: May 9th, 2025

#2025 #30 #AmericanMetal #DarkFolk #DarkNeofolk #Folk #Instrumental #May25 #Nechochwen #NordvisProduktion #NotMetal #OctoberFalls #Review #Reviews #Spelewithiipi #Thurnin #WÿntërÄrvń

Nechochwen – Spelewithiipi Review

By Killjoy

It can be healthy for artists to periodically take time to reset and remember what first compelled them to start creating music. Aaron Carey originally founded Nechochwen in West Virginia as an unostentatious acoustic guitar project paying homage to his Native American lineage. It didn’t take long for black metal influence to emerge and with the addition of Andrew D’Cagna as the rhythm section, the two styles proved a potent pairing to explore the cultural history sewn into every note. 2015’s Heart of Akamon was well-received in the metal community and by our Vice Overlord Steel Druhm, who later went on to underrate their very good1 follow-up Kanawha Black. During all this time,2 Nechochwen had been quietly working on Spelewithiipi, a fully instrumental acoustic folk album akin to their debut full-length Algonkian Mythos. Can Nechochwen come full circle and revisit an older style without feeling like a step backward?

Nechochwen was always more inclined to reach for an acoustic guitar than an electric, but Spelewithiipi takes it a step further. Carey’s multi-tracked acoustic guitars enjoy near total exclusivity, plucking and strumming along like a bolder variation of older (and newer) October Falls. This is something of a double-edged sword—there is little to distract from the graceful guitar melodies, but the emotive burden of proof falling solely upon one instrument can be a challenging songwriting prospect. This may be why similar-minded neofolk albums from Thurnin and Wÿntër Ärvń in recent months opted to diversify with various other folk instrumentation, and Spelewithiipi follows suit, albeit sparingly. Here and there, indigenous drum beats (“Lenawe’owiin,” “Spelewithiipi,” “Primordial Passage”), a full drum kit (“Precipice of Stone”), and a gentle flute (“Lenawe’owiin,” “Spelewithiipi”) provide embellishment. This pared-back instrumentation is an important part of Spelewithiipi’s reverent, intimate nature.

At this point in his career, Carey can wring seemingly every ounce of breadth and depth from his weapon of choice. The acoustic guitar lines, usually appearing in pairs, flow and breathe as they fluctuate in intensity and complexity. Sometimes they’re straightforward, with clear lead and rhythm roles (“Nemacolin’s Path,” “Spelewithiipi”). Elsewhere, Nechochwen weaves multiple distinct melodies together into a more elegant soundscape (“Tpwiiwe,” “Precipice of Stone”). Unsurprisingly, the music is intrinsically bonded with nature, the rain sounds in “Othaškwa’alowethi behme” adding a mystical effect to the stream of twanging guitar notes. The best and most passionate performance lies in “Mthothwathiipi,” which features a gentle, cascading tune that gives way to vigorous fingerpicking laced with percussive slaps. The immense skill on display almost convinces me that Nechochwen might be better off in this unplugged realm.

Almost. Like a phantom limb, I find it impossible not to miss Nechochwen’s black metal side. In my view, their appeal mainly stemmed from the meticulous melding of acoustic folk with metal, not either component taken individually. Therefore, an attempt to decouple them was, perhaps, destined to yield a diminished result. Even setting aside genre preferences, Spelewithiipi lacks much of the structure and focus from when Nechochwen were grounded in black metal conventions. The first half of the record fares better thanks to more developed melodies, whereas the back half feels more barren and aimless (particularly “Primordial Passage”), but nearly every song suffers to some extent from rocky transitions or promising ideas cut short. With fewer musical handholds on Spelewithiipi, the overall songwriting needed to be more coherent and engaging to make up the difference.

Spelewithiipi is not an immediate album; it invites rather than seizes the listener’s attention. Accordingly, fans of Nechochwen’s recent work will likely need to manage expectations and exercise patience. As I spent time with it and let go of what I wanted to hear from Nechochwen, I gained greater appreciation of what they created. Aaron Carey plays heartfelt, stirring acoustic guitar lines the likes of which I’ve never heard before, and I’m in awe of his instrumental mastery. Yet, even the best guitarwork on Spelewithiipi is not quite as captivating as that of Heart of Akamon or Kanawha Black. This, plus the relinquishment of metal influence and its short 31-minute runtime, make it hard to see Spelewithiipi as a complete Nechochwen record. But, even so, this is still a pleasant walk through the woods worth taking.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 13 | Format Reviewed: 192 kbps mp3
Label: Nordvis Produktion
Websites: nechochwen-nordvis.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/nechochwen
Releases Worldwide: May 9th, 2025

#2025 #30 #AmericanMetal #DarkFolk #DarkNeofolk #Folk #Instrumental #May25 #Nechochwen #NordvisProduktion #NotMetal #OctoberFalls #Review #Reviews #Spelewithiipi #Thurnin #WÿntërÄrvń

Wÿntër Ärvń – Sous l’Orage Noir – L’Astre et la Chute Review

By Twelve

Wÿntër Ärvn is a really cool project. It takes its inspiration from black metal of the ’90s and channels it into an almost fully acoustic and almost fully instrumental framework, building on many familiar feelings from that space—bitterness, inner struggles, anger, the usual stuff—in a pleasant, rather than jarring way. The French one-man project writes on acoustic guitars and builds on it such instruments as the cello, shakuhachi, and, yes, clarinet—but no electric guitars in sight. It’s a powerful concept and worked very well on Abysses, to the delight of the venerable Emya. Following up is always tricky, but a new album is here to continue the journey; how does Sous l’Orage Noir – L’Astre et la Chute stand up?

I should admit straightaway that I didn’t love Abysses. On paper, it’s right up my alley—gorgeous dark and neo folk music with a beating heart from black metal- but I found that its lack of immediacy meant it didn’t work so well for me as it did for Emya (and a lot of you). Sous l’Orage Noir – L’Astre et la Chute—Under the Black Storm – The Star and the Fall—challenged my preconceived biases fast with “Un Voile sur l’Azur,” a calming, peaceful tune that utilizes bagpipes and whistles from Geoffroy Dell’Aria (Les Bâtards du Nord, Épaves) to stunning effect. Similarly, “Remembrances” is a gorgeous song in a similar vein, with compelling acoustic guitar and a beautiful hurdy-gurdy lead that has placed it among my most-listened-to songs over the past few weeks. It is evocative—mesmerizing, even—with an appropriately strong sense of melancholy and nostalgia that hangs over Sous l’Orage Noir in the best possible way.

As alluded to above, there is a strong diversity of instruments across Sous l’Orage Noir, thanks in part to a variety of guest musicians. Raphaël Verguin (In Cauda Venenum, Psygnosis) provides cello for “Ad Vesperam,” Vittorio Sabelli (Dawn of a Dark Age) performs clarinet for “Vingt Ans de Brouillard” and “L’Astre et la Chute,” and there’s even a harp from Laurène Telennaria (Orkhys). Similarly, not all tracks are instrumental, with singing and a few growls (Judith De Lotharingie of Ofdrykkja and Wÿntër Ärvń himself, respectively) making rare appearances throughout. Many of these elements were present in Abysses, of course, but I love the way the songwriting, production, and album direction support them. The way Sabelli’s clarinet emerges as if from the titular fog in “Vingt Ans de Brouillard” is so memorable, as is the way “Appelé à l’Abîme” builds and builds before Telennaria’s singing descends as if from a great distance. Wÿntër Ärvń demonstrates excellent songwriting on Sous l’Orage Noir, like the best of October Falls, while taking influence from across the French metal scene.

There are only two things I don’t love about Sous l’Orage Noir (a great thing to be able to say for a dark folk album). The first is that I’m not convinced the growls work with the music. While I understand the relation to black metal, I think Wÿntër Ärvń’s is too removed from the original style—his hoarse, rough growling is a stark contrast to a song as lovely as “Ad Vesperam,” and breaks my immersion a bit. It’s not even a bad choice—the backdrop of chants and percussion supports it really well, but the song itself is almost peaceful up to that point. The second is that I don’t think the back half of the album does enough to distinguish itself from the first four or five tracks, making Sous l’Orage Noir feel a bit front-loaded. I don’t love the melody in “L’Astre et la Chute, for example;” it feels passive, while “Sous L’Orage Noir” leans a bit too much on repetition. Neither are bad songs, but they don’t do much to keep up the momentum from the openers.

On the other hand, these are the same qualities that make it so easy to load Wÿntër Ärvń, close your eyes, and get carried away by the music. There is a phenomenal sense of flow to Sous l’Orage Noir – L’Astre et la Chute that complements its style so well. Whether you’re a fan of metal or folk, there’s something to love here. In my mind, Sous l’Orage Noir is a step up from Abysses, and has made me a real fan of Wÿntër Ärvń— I can’t wait to see where the music flows from here.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Antiq Records
Website: facebook.com/wynterarvnneofolk
Releases Worldwide: March 7th, 2025

#2025 #35 #AntiqRecords #DawnOfADarkAge #Épaves #FrenchMetal #InCaudaVenenum #LesBâtardsDuNord #Mar25 #Neofolk #OctoberFalls #Ofdrykkja #Orkhys #Psygnosis #Review #Reviews #SousLOrageNoirLAstreEtLaChute #WÿntërÄrvń

Wÿntër Ärvń – Sous l’Orage Noir – L’Astre et la Chute Review

By Twelve

Wÿntër Ärvn is a really cool project. It takes its inspiration from black metal of the ’90s and channels it into an almost fully acoustic and almost fully instrumental framework, building on many familiar feelings from that space—bitterness, inner struggles, anger, the usual stuff—in a pleasant, rather than jarring way. The French one-man project writes on acoustic guitars and builds on it such instruments as the cello, shakuhachi, and, yes, clarinet—but no electric guitars in sight. It’s a powerful concept and worked very well on Abysses, to the delight of the venerable Emya. Following up is always tricky, but a new album is here to continue the journey; how does Sous l’Orage Noir – L’Astre et la Chute stand up?

I should admit straightaway that I didn’t love Abysses. On paper, it’s right up my alley—gorgeous dark and neo folk music with a beating heart from black metal- but I found that its lack of immediacy meant it didn’t work so well for me as it did for Emya (and a lot of you). Sous l’Orage Noir – L’Astre et la Chute—Under the Black Storm – The Star and the Fall—challenged my preconceived biases fast with “Un Voile sur l’Azur,” a calming, peaceful tune that utilizes bagpipes and whistles from Geoffroy Dell’Aria (Les Bâtards du Nord, Épaves) to stunning effect. Similarly, “Remembrances” is a gorgeous song in a similar vein, with compelling acoustic guitar and a beautiful hurdy-gurdy lead that has placed it among my most-listened-to songs over the past few weeks. It is evocative—mesmerizing, even—with an appropriately strong sense of melancholy and nostalgia that hangs over Sous l’Orage Noir in the best possible way.

As alluded to above, there is a strong diversity of instruments across Sous l’Orage Noir, thanks in part to a variety of guest musicians. Raphaël Verguin (In Cauda Venenum, Psygnosis) provides cello for “Ad Vesperam,” Vittorio Sabelli (Dawn of a Dark Age) performs clarinet for “Vingt Ans de Brouillard” and “L’Astre et la Chute,” and there’s even a harp from Laurène Telennaria (Orkhys). Similarly, not all tracks are instrumental, with singing and a few growls (Judith De Lotharingie of Ofdrykkja and Wÿntër Ärvń himself, respectively) making rare appearances throughout. Many of these elements were present in Abysses, of course, but I love the way the songwriting, production, and album direction support them. The way Sabelli’s clarinet emerges as if from the titular fog in “Vingt Ans de Brouillard” is so memorable, as is the way “Appelé à l’Abîme” builds and builds before Telennaria’s singing descends as if from a great distance. Wÿntër Ärvń demonstrates excellent songwriting on Sous l’Orage Noir, like the best of October Falls, while taking influence from across the French metal scene.

There are only two things I don’t love about Sous l’Orage Noir (a great thing to be able to say for a dark folk album). The first is that I’m not convinced the growls work with the music. While I understand the relation to black metal, I think Wÿntër Ärvń’s is too removed from the original style—his hoarse, rough growling is a stark contrast to a song as lovely as “Ad Vesperam,” and breaks my immersion a bit. It’s not even a bad choice—the backdrop of chants and percussion supports it really well, but the song itself is almost peaceful up to that point. The second is that I don’t think the back half of the album does enough to distinguish itself from the first four or five tracks, making Sous l’Orage Noir feel a bit front-loaded. I don’t love the melody in “L’Astre et la Chute, for example;” it feels passive, while “Sous L’Orage Noir” leans a bit too much on repetition. Neither are bad songs, but they don’t do much to keep up the momentum from the openers.

On the other hand, these are the same qualities that make it so easy to load Wÿntër Ärvń, close your eyes, and get carried away by the music. There is a phenomenal sense of flow to Sous l’Orage Noir – L’Astre et la Chute that complements its style so well. Whether you’re a fan of metal or folk, there’s something to love here. In my mind, Sous l’Orage Noir is a step up from Abysses, and has made me a real fan of Wÿntër Ärvń— I can’t wait to see where the music flows from here.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Antiq Records
Website: facebook.com/wynterarvnneofolk
Releases Worldwide: March 7th, 2025

#2025 #35 #AntiqRecords #DawnOfADarkAge #Épaves #FrenchMetal #InCaudaVenenum #LesBâtardsDuNord #Mar25 #Neofolk #OctoberFalls #Ofdrykkja #Orkhys #Psygnosis #Review #Reviews #SousLOrageNoirLAstreEtLaChute #WÿntërÄrvń

Wÿntër Ärvń – Sous l’Orage Noir – L’Astre et la Chute Review

By Twelve

Wÿntër Ärvn is a really cool project. It takes its inspiration from black metal of the ’90s and channels it into an almost fully acoustic and almost fully instrumental framework, building on many familiar feelings from that space—bitterness, inner struggles, anger, the usual stuff—in a pleasant, rather than jarring way. The French one-man project writes on acoustic guitars and builds on it such instruments as the cello, shakuhachi, and, yes, clarinet—but no electric guitars in sight. It’s a powerful concept and worked very well on Abysses, to the delight of the venerable Emya. Following up is always tricky, but a new album is here to continue the journey; how does Sous l’Orage Noir – L’Astre et la Chute stand up?

I should admit straightaway that I didn’t love Abysses. On paper, it’s right up my alley—gorgeous dark and neo folk music with a beating heart from black metal- but I found that its lack of immediacy meant it didn’t work so well for me as it did for Emya (and a lot of you). Sous l’Orage Noir – L’Astre et la Chute—Under the Black Storm – The Star and the Fall—challenged my preconceived biases fast with “Un Voile sur l’Azur,” a calming, peaceful tune that utilizes bagpipes and whistles from Geoffroy Dell’Aria (Les Bâtards du Nord, Épaves) to stunning effect. Similarly, “Remembrances” is a gorgeous song in a similar vein, with compelling acoustic guitar and a beautiful hurdy-gurdy lead that has placed it among my most-listened-to songs over the past few weeks. It is evocative—mesmerizing, even—with an appropriately strong sense of melancholy and nostalgia that hangs over Sous l’Orage Noir in the best possible way.

As alluded to above, there is a strong diversity of instruments across Sous l’Orage Noir, thanks in part to a variety of guest musicians. Raphaël Verguin (In Cauda Venenum, Psygnosis) provides cello for “Ad Vesperam,” Vittorio Sabelli (Dawn of a Dark Age) performs clarinet for “Vingt Ans de Brouillard” and “L’Astre et la Chute,” and there’s even a harp from Laurène Telennaria (Orkhys). Similarly, not all tracks are instrumental, with singing and a few growls (Judith De Lotharingie of Ofdrykkja and Wÿntër Ärvń himself, respectively) making rare appearances throughout. Many of these elements were present in Abysses, of course, but I love the way the songwriting, production, and album direction support them. The way Sabelli’s clarinet emerges as if from the titular fog in “Vingt Ans de Brouillard” is so memorable, as is the way “Appelé à l’Abîme” builds and builds before Telennaria’s singing descends as if from a great distance. Wÿntër Ärvń demonstrates excellent songwriting on Sous l’Orage Noir, like the best of October Falls, while taking influence from across the French metal scene.

There are only two things I don’t love about Sous l’Orage Noir (a great thing to be able to say for a dark folk album). The first is that I’m not convinced the growls work with the music. While I understand the relation to black metal, I think Wÿntër Ärvń’s is too removed from the original style—his hoarse, rough growling is a stark contrast to a song as lovely as “Ad Vesperam,” and breaks my immersion a bit. It’s not even a bad choice—the backdrop of chants and percussion supports it really well, but the song itself is almost peaceful up to that point. The second is that I don’t think the back half of the album does enough to distinguish itself from the first four or five tracks, making Sous l’Orage Noir feel a bit front-loaded. I don’t love the melody in “L’Astre et la Chute, for example;” it feels passive, while “Sous L’Orage Noir” leans a bit too much on repetition. Neither are bad songs, but they don’t do much to keep up the momentum from the openers.

On the other hand, these are the same qualities that make it so easy to load Wÿntër Ärvń, close your eyes, and get carried away by the music. There is a phenomenal sense of flow to Sous l’Orage Noir – L’Astre et la Chute that complements its style so well. Whether you’re a fan of metal or folk, there’s something to love here. In my mind, Sous l’Orage Noir is a step up from Abysses, and has made me a real fan of Wÿntër Ärvń— I can’t wait to see where the music flows from here.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Antiq Records
Website: facebook.com/wynterarvnneofolk
Releases Worldwide: March 7th, 2025

#2025 #35 #AntiqRecords #DawnOfADarkAge #Épaves #FrenchMetal #InCaudaVenenum #LesBâtardsDuNord #Mar25 #Neofolk #OctoberFalls #Ofdrykkja #Orkhys #Psygnosis #Review #Reviews #SousLOrageNoirLAstreEtLaChute #WÿntërÄrvń

Wÿntër Ärvń – Sous l’Orage Noir – L’Astre et la Chute Review

By Twelve

Wÿntër Ärvn is a really cool project. It takes its inspiration from black metal of the ’90s and channels it into an almost fully acoustic and almost fully instrumental framework, building on many familiar feelings from that space—bitterness, inner struggles, anger, the usual stuff—in a pleasant, rather than jarring way. The French one-man project writes on acoustic guitars and builds on it such instruments as the cello, shakuhachi, and, yes, clarinet—but no electric guitars in sight. It’s a powerful concept and worked very well on Abysses, to the delight of the venerable Emya. Following up is always tricky, but a new album is here to continue the journey; how does Sous l’Orage Noir – L’Astre et la Chute stand up?

I should admit straightaway that I didn’t love Abysses. On paper, it’s right up my alley—gorgeous dark and neo folk music with a beating heart from black metal- but I found that its lack of immediacy meant it didn’t work so well for me as it did for Emya (and a lot of you). Sous l’Orage Noir – L’Astre et la Chute—Under the Black Storm – The Star and the Fall—challenged my preconceived biases fast with “Un Voile sur l’Azur,” a calming, peaceful tune that utilizes bagpipes and whistles from Geoffroy Dell’Aria (Les Bâtards du Nord, Épaves) to stunning effect. Similarly, “Remembrances” is a gorgeous song in a similar vein, with compelling acoustic guitar and a beautiful hurdy-gurdy lead that has placed it among my most-listened-to songs over the past few weeks. It is evocative—mesmerizing, even—with an appropriately strong sense of melancholy and nostalgia that hangs over Sous l’Orage Noir in the best possible way.

As alluded to above, there is a strong diversity of instruments across Sous l’Orage Noir, thanks in part to a variety of guest musicians. Raphaël Verguin (In Cauda Venenum, Psygnosis) provides cello for “Ad Vesperam,” Vittorio Sabelli (Dawn of a Dark Age) performs clarinet for “Vingt Ans de Brouillard” and “L’Astre et la Chute,” and there’s even a harp from Laurène Telennaria (Orkhys). Similarly, not all tracks are instrumental, with singing and a few growls (Judith De Lotharingie of Ofdrykkja and Wÿntër Ärvń himself, respectively) making rare appearances throughout. Many of these elements were present in Abysses, of course, but I love the way the songwriting, production, and album direction support them. The way Sabelli’s clarinet emerges as if from the titular fog in “Vingt Ans de Brouillard” is so memorable, as is the way “Appelé à l’Abîme” builds and builds before Telennaria’s singing descends as if from a great distance. Wÿntër Ärvń demonstrates excellent songwriting on Sous l’Orage Noir, like the best of October Falls, while taking influence from across the French metal scene.

There are only two things I don’t love about Sous l’Orage Noir (a great thing to be able to say for a dark folk album). The first is that I’m not convinced the growls work with the music. While I understand the relation to black metal, I think Wÿntër Ärvń’s is too removed from the original style—his hoarse, rough growling is a stark contrast to a song as lovely as “Ad Vesperam,” and breaks my immersion a bit. It’s not even a bad choice—the backdrop of chants and percussion supports it really well, but the song itself is almost peaceful up to that point. The second is that I don’t think the back half of the album does enough to distinguish itself from the first four or five tracks, making Sous l’Orage Noir feel a bit front-loaded. I don’t love the melody in “L’Astre et la Chute, for example;” it feels passive, while “Sous L’Orage Noir” leans a bit too much on repetition. Neither are bad songs, but they don’t do much to keep up the momentum from the openers.

On the other hand, these are the same qualities that make it so easy to load Wÿntër Ärvń, close your eyes, and get carried away by the music. There is a phenomenal sense of flow to Sous l’Orage Noir – L’Astre et la Chute that complements its style so well. Whether you’re a fan of metal or folk, there’s something to love here. In my mind, Sous l’Orage Noir is a step up from Abysses, and has made me a real fan of Wÿntër Ärvń— I can’t wait to see where the music flows from here.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Antiq Records
Website: facebook.com/wynterarvnneofolk
Releases Worldwide: March 7th, 2025

#2025 #35 #AntiqRecords #DawnOfADarkAge #Épaves #FrenchMetal #InCaudaVenenum #LesBâtardsDuNord #Mar25 #Neofolk #OctoberFalls #Ofdrykkja #Orkhys #Psygnosis #Review #Reviews #SousLOrageNoirLAstreEtLaChute #WÿntërÄrvń

Cantu Ignis – The Fathomless Dominion Review

By Twelve

When I recently commented that I miss Eternal Tears of Sorrow, the universe must have heard me. Or, at least, Steel Druhm did, as he spied from our vast promo pit The Fathomless Dominion, the sophomore full-length from US-based Cantu Ignis, an album allegedly recommended for fans of Eternal Tears of Sorrow (among others). Now, I’ll admit, lately I’ve been a bit picky with my review promos, but that simple reference was enough for me to cheerfully go in blind. Cantu Ignis base their sound off of quite a few legends of the melodic death metal scene, which is a great way to get some attention (hey, it worked on me), but also a good way to raise expectations. How do Cantu Ignis stack up to their idols?

The symphonic/melodic death metal tag Cantu Ignis placed on The Fathomless Dominion is an apt one, with some elements of black metal in the mix. Evoking the aforementioned Mors Principium Est, Kalmah, and, yes, Eternal Tears of Sorrow, the music here is vicious, thunderous, and often beautiful, equally likely to pummel blast beats and heavy riffs as to let synths dance across the arena. The skill and variety of each player build a balance that keeps things lively. Guitars and keys are equally likely to maintain melody, but the melody is always there, whether in the form of the sweeping leads that adorn the breakneck title track or the twinkling keys that decorate the comparatively mid-paced “Buried Planet.” The Fathomless Dominion is a good example of leads-led melodeath that shies away from neither heavy, angry moments (“Survey the Sun”), nor heavy keys used to make a melody stick (“The Fathomless Dominion”). This is a great setup for an album in this genre.

I get the sense that Cantu Ignis wanted each song on The Fathomless Dominion to showcase a different side of their style. “Survey the Sun” is the only song to use October Falls-esque acoustic interludes, for example, while “Within the Mind of Hell” takes a sweeping, epic approach largely absent from the rest of the album. Of course, with only six songs spanning thirty-seven minutes, it isn’t surprising that each one does something different. What is a bit surprising is just how many ideas Cantu Ignis fit into that fairly small timeframe—keys solos and guitar solos, heavy bass, and so many riffs. Perhaps the most consistent things on the album are the snarling vocals and speedy drums, which consistently take the complex route to get to where they’re going. In essence, there is a lot going on across The Fathomless Dominion, and the majority of it is very strong melodeath magic.

If there’s any issue with The Fathomless Dominion, it’s the same as its strength—a lot of stuff happening at once. Most songs have distinct structures and all repeat themes, but it often doesn’t feel that way; “Buried Planet,” for example, definitely has a chorus but by the time I get to the end of the album I can’t remember anything about it. It’s strong in the moment—a mid-paced burner, as I mentioned earlier, and a great break after the wildness of “Survey the Sun”—but with so much going on, it struggles to maintain an identity. Similarly, “A Reality Deceased” reminds me of Symbolik, in that it has some awesome, sweeping passages that evoke terrifying heights with intensity. Unfortunately, those passages are all I really take away from it. On the bright side, most everything sounds good; all instruments are clear-sounding and strong (with the exception of the snare drum, which sounds too click-y for my tastes). It allows me to hear pretty much everything going on—Cantu Ignis’s greatest strength but also a potential setback for The Fathomless Dominion.

I love the sound that Cantu Ignis have here; I love the way The Fathomless Dominion makes me feel. There are many great moments throughout a mere thirty-seven minutes, and a rock-solid foundation of modern melodeath goodness. The Fathomless Dominion is a great example of art that shows a little too much of a good thing. The good news is that all of it is good—I can only imagine that the next one will be even better.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 1,441 kbps WAV
Label: Self-release
Websites: cantuignis.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/Cantu-Ignis
Releases Worldwide: February 14th, 2025

#2025 #30 #AmericanMetal #CantuIgnis #EternalTearsOfSorrow #Feb25 #Kalmah #MelodicDeathMetal #MorsPrincipiumEst #OctoberFalls #Review #Reviews #SelfRelease #Symbolik #SymphonicBlackMetal #TheFathomlessDominion

Cantu Ignis – The Fathomless Dominion Review

By Twelve

When I recently commented that I miss Eternal Tears of Sorrow, the universe must have heard me. Or, at least, Steel Druhm did, as he spied from our vast promo pit The Fathomless Dominion, the sophomore full-length from US-based Cantu Ignis, an album allegedly recommended for fans of Eternal Tears of Sorrow (among others). Now, I’ll admit, lately I’ve been a bit picky with my review promos, but that simple reference was enough for me to cheerfully go in blind. Cantu Ignis base their sound off of quite a few legends of the melodic death metal scene, which is a great way to get some attention (hey, it worked on me), but also a good way to raise expectations. How do Cantu Ignis stack up to their idols?

The symphonic/melodic death metal tag Cantu Ignis placed on The Fathomless Dominion is an apt one, with some elements of black metal in the mix. Evoking the aforementioned Mors Principium Est, Kalmah, and, yes, Eternal Tears of Sorrow, the music here is vicious, thunderous, and often beautiful, equally likely to pummel blast beats and heavy riffs as to let synths dance across the arena. The skill and variety of each player build a balance that keeps things lively. Guitars and keys are equally likely to maintain melody, but the melody is always there, whether in the form of the sweeping leads that adorn the breakneck title track or the twinkling keys that decorate the comparatively mid-paced “Buried Planet.” The Fathomless Dominion is a good example of leads-led melodeath that shies away from neither heavy, angry moments (“Survey the Sun”), nor heavy keys used to make a melody stick (“The Fathomless Dominion”). This is a great setup for an album in this genre.

I get the sense that Cantu Ignis wanted each song on The Fathomless Dominion to showcase a different side of their style. “Survey the Sun” is the only song to use October Falls-esque acoustic interludes, for example, while “Within the Mind of Hell” takes a sweeping, epic approach largely absent from the rest of the album. Of course, with only six songs spanning thirty-seven minutes, it isn’t surprising that each one does something different. What is a bit surprising is just how many ideas Cantu Ignis fit into that fairly small timeframe—keys solos and guitar solos, heavy bass, and so many riffs. Perhaps the most consistent things on the album are the snarling vocals and speedy drums, which consistently take the complex route to get to where they’re going. In essence, there is a lot going on across The Fathomless Dominion, and the majority of it is very strong melodeath magic.

If there’s any issue with The Fathomless Dominion, it’s the same as its strength—a lot of stuff happening at once. Most songs have distinct structures and all repeat themes, but it often doesn’t feel that way; “Buried Planet,” for example, definitely has a chorus but by the time I get to the end of the album I can’t remember anything about it. It’s strong in the moment—a mid-paced burner, as I mentioned earlier, and a great break after the wildness of “Survey the Sun”—but with so much going on, it struggles to maintain an identity. Similarly, “A Reality Deceased” reminds me of Symbolik, in that it has some awesome, sweeping passages that evoke terrifying heights with intensity. Unfortunately, those passages are all I really take away from it. On the bright side, most everything sounds good; all instruments are clear-sounding and strong (with the exception of the snare drum, which sounds too click-y for my tastes). It allows me to hear pretty much everything going on—Cantu Ignis’s greatest strength but also a potential setback for The Fathomless Dominion.

I love the sound that Cantu Ignis have here; I love the way The Fathomless Dominion makes me feel. There are many great moments throughout a mere thirty-seven minutes, and a rock-solid foundation of modern melodeath goodness. The Fathomless Dominion is a great example of art that shows a little too much of a good thing. The good news is that all of it is good—I can only imagine that the next one will be even better.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 1,441 kbps WAV
Label: Self-release
Websites: cantuignis.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/Cantu-Ignis
Releases Worldwide: February 14th, 2025

#2025 #30 #AmericanMetal #CantuIgnis #EternalTearsOfSorrow #Feb25 #Kalmah #MelodicDeathMetal #MorsPrincipiumEst #OctoberFalls #Review #Reviews #SelfRelease #Symbolik #SymphonicBlackMetal #TheFathomlessDominion

Cantu Ignis – The Fathomless Dominion Review

By Twelve

When I recently commented that I miss Eternal Tears of Sorrow, the universe must have heard me. Or, at least, Steel Druhm did, as he spied from our vast promo pit The Fathomless Dominion, the sophomore full-length from US-based Cantu Ignis, an album allegedly recommended for fans of Eternal Tears of Sorrow (among others). Now, I’ll admit, lately I’ve been a bit picky with my review promos, but that simple reference was enough for me to cheerfully go in blind. Cantu Ignis base their sound off of quite a few legends of the melodic death metal scene, which is a great way to get some attention (hey, it worked on me), but also a good way to raise expectations. How do Cantu Ignis stack up to their idols?

The symphonic/melodic death metal tag Cantu Ignis placed on The Fathomless Dominion is an apt one, with some elements of black metal in the mix. Evoking the aforementioned Mors Principium Est, Kalmah, and, yes, Eternal Tears of Sorrow, the music here is vicious, thunderous, and often beautiful, equally likely to pummel blast beats and heavy riffs as to let synths dance across the arena. The skill and variety of each player build a balance that keeps things lively. Guitars and keys are equally likely to maintain melody, but the melody is always there, whether in the form of the sweeping leads that adorn the breakneck title track or the twinkling keys that decorate the comparatively mid-paced “Buried Planet.” The Fathomless Dominion is a good example of leads-led melodeath that shies away from neither heavy, angry moments (“Survey the Sun”), nor heavy keys used to make a melody stick (“The Fathomless Dominion”). This is a great setup for an album in this genre.

I get the sense that Cantu Ignis wanted each song on The Fathomless Dominion to showcase a different side of their style. “Survey the Sun” is the only song to use October Falls-esque acoustic interludes, for example, while “Within the Mind of Hell” takes a sweeping, epic approach largely absent from the rest of the album. Of course, with only six songs spanning thirty-seven minutes, it isn’t surprising that each one does something different. What is a bit surprising is just how many ideas Cantu Ignis fit into that fairly small timeframe—keys solos and guitar solos, heavy bass, and so many riffs. Perhaps the most consistent things on the album are the snarling vocals and speedy drums, which consistently take the complex route to get to where they’re going. In essence, there is a lot going on across The Fathomless Dominion, and the majority of it is very strong melodeath magic.

If there’s any issue with The Fathomless Dominion, it’s the same as its strength—a lot of stuff happening at once. Most songs have distinct structures and all repeat themes, but it often doesn’t feel that way; “Buried Planet,” for example, definitely has a chorus but by the time I get to the end of the album I can’t remember anything about it. It’s strong in the moment—a mid-paced burner, as I mentioned earlier, and a great break after the wildness of “Survey the Sun”—but with so much going on, it struggles to maintain an identity. Similarly, “A Reality Deceased” reminds me of Symbolik, in that it has some awesome, sweeping passages that evoke terrifying heights with intensity. Unfortunately, those passages are all I really take away from it. On the bright side, most everything sounds good; all instruments are clear-sounding and strong (with the exception of the snare drum, which sounds too click-y for my tastes). It allows me to hear pretty much everything going on—Cantu Ignis’s greatest strength but also a potential setback for The Fathomless Dominion.

I love the sound that Cantu Ignis have here; I love the way The Fathomless Dominion makes me feel. There are many great moments throughout a mere thirty-seven minutes, and a rock-solid foundation of modern melodeath goodness. The Fathomless Dominion is a great example of art that shows a little too much of a good thing. The good news is that all of it is good—I can only imagine that the next one will be even better.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 1,441 kbps WAV
Label: Self-release
Websites: cantuignis.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/Cantu-Ignis
Releases Worldwide: February 14th, 2025

#2025 #30 #AmericanMetal #CantuIgnis #EternalTearsOfSorrow #Feb25 #Kalmah #MelodicDeathMetal #MorsPrincipiumEst #OctoberFalls #Review #Reviews #SelfRelease #Symbolik #SymphonicBlackMetal #TheFathomlessDominion

Cantu Ignis – The Fathomless Dominion Review

By Twelve

When I recently commented that I miss Eternal Tears of Sorrow, the universe must have heard me. Or, at least, Steel Druhm did, as he spied from our vast promo pit The Fathomless Dominion, the sophomore full-length from US-based Cantu Ignis, an album allegedly recommended for fans of Eternal Tears of Sorrow (among others). Now, I’ll admit, lately I’ve been a bit picky with my review promos, but that simple reference was enough for me to cheerfully go in blind. Cantu Ignis base their sound off of quite a few legends of the melodic death metal scene, which is a great way to get some attention (hey, it worked on me), but also a good way to raise expectations. How do Cantu Ignis stack up to their idols?

The symphonic/melodic death metal tag Cantu Ignis placed on The Fathomless Dominion is an apt one, with some elements of black metal in the mix. Evoking the aforementioned Mors Principium Est, Kalmah, and, yes, Eternal Tears of Sorrow, the music here is vicious, thunderous, and often beautiful, equally likely to pummel blast beats and heavy riffs as to let synths dance across the arena. The skill and variety of each player build a balance that keeps things lively. Guitars and keys are equally likely to maintain melody, but the melody is always there, whether in the form of the sweeping leads that adorn the breakneck title track or the twinkling keys that decorate the comparatively mid-paced “Buried Planet.” The Fathomless Dominion is a good example of leads-led melodeath that shies away from neither heavy, angry moments (“Survey the Sun”), nor heavy keys used to make a melody stick (“The Fathomless Dominion”). This is a great setup for an album in this genre.

I get the sense that Cantu Ignis wanted each song on The Fathomless Dominion to showcase a different side of their style. “Survey the Sun” is the only song to use October Falls-esque acoustic interludes, for example, while “Within the Mind of Hell” takes a sweeping, epic approach largely absent from the rest of the album. Of course, with only six songs spanning thirty-seven minutes, it isn’t surprising that each one does something different. What is a bit surprising is just how many ideas Cantu Ignis fit into that fairly small timeframe—keys solos and guitar solos, heavy bass, and so many riffs. Perhaps the most consistent things on the album are the snarling vocals and speedy drums, which consistently take the complex route to get to where they’re going. In essence, there is a lot going on across The Fathomless Dominion, and the majority of it is very strong melodeath magic.

If there’s any issue with The Fathomless Dominion, it’s the same as its strength—a lot of stuff happening at once. Most songs have distinct structures and all repeat themes, but it often doesn’t feel that way; “Buried Planet,” for example, definitely has a chorus but by the time I get to the end of the album I can’t remember anything about it. It’s strong in the moment—a mid-paced burner, as I mentioned earlier, and a great break after the wildness of “Survey the Sun”—but with so much going on, it struggles to maintain an identity. Similarly, “A Reality Deceased” reminds me of Symbolik, in that it has some awesome, sweeping passages that evoke terrifying heights with intensity. Unfortunately, those passages are all I really take away from it. On the bright side, most everything sounds good; all instruments are clear-sounding and strong (with the exception of the snare drum, which sounds too click-y for my tastes). It allows me to hear pretty much everything going on—Cantu Ignis’s greatest strength but also a potential setback for The Fathomless Dominion.

I love the sound that Cantu Ignis have here; I love the way The Fathomless Dominion makes me feel. There are many great moments throughout a mere thirty-seven minutes, and a rock-solid foundation of modern melodeath goodness. The Fathomless Dominion is a great example of art that shows a little too much of a good thing. The good news is that all of it is good—I can only imagine that the next one will be even better.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 1,441 kbps WAV
Label: Self-release
Websites: cantuignis.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/Cantu-Ignis
Releases Worldwide: February 14th, 2025

#2025 #30 #AmericanMetal #CantuIgnis #EternalTearsOfSorrow #Feb25 #Kalmah #MelodicDeathMetal #MorsPrincipiumEst #OctoberFalls #Review #Reviews #SelfRelease #Symbolik #SymphonicBlackMetal #TheFathomlessDominion

Grylle – Egrotants, Souffreteux, Cacochymes, Covidards Review

By Twelve

I like Antiq Records. Generally, their albums tread the line between different, powerful, and weird very nicely, so it’s always a treat when one of their new releases happens by the Angry Metal Offices. It should come as no surprise that I’m a fan of Hyvermor. He’s the co-owner of the label and has been a part of several projects that I love—Hanternoz, Véhémence, and Grylle, to name a few. Grylle is perhaps the least “metal” of the three1, and also the folkiest, leaning fully into the medieval themes that serve Hyvermor and Antiq Records so well. Boasting an impressive lineup of guest musicians on all kinds of fun instruments, Egrotants, Souffreteux, Cacochymes, Covidards is the third full-length release from Gylle, and is, as per usual, a treat to explore.

Now, when I say an impressive lineup of guest musicians on all kinds of fun instruments, I mean it. Apart from bass and drums by KK and Cadavre respectively, there are no fewer than seven guest musicians on Egrotants, Souffreteux, Cacochymes, Covidards, whose contributions include a small horn section, citole, bagpipes, flutes, a hurdy gurdy, and something called a mandocello. As a result, Grylle’s music feels more multifaceted than it ever has before. More than previous records, Egrotants, Souffreteux, Cacochymes, Covidards is a black metal album firmly entrenched in medieval and folk themes, with one major difference—nearly all of the leads are performed by what I believe is the mandocello. Nearly all of the tremolo leads are acoustic, and even the distorted guitars are medieval instruments, though those are distorted enough to resemble the electric instruments of today. The result is what I imagine October Falls would sound like if you made them play the metal and acoustic bits at the same time; the riffs have that slick-yet-dark edge to them, while the acoustic sections enliven and enhance.

Of course, that’s not a perfect comparison, because Egrotants, Souffreteux, Cacochymes, Covidards is unquestionably a folk metal album. The gorgeous brass and trumpets (Lazareth) on”Mauvais Sang” work with mandocello and (I think) psaltery to add a shining, hopeful dimension to the song, while the hurdy gurdy (Sparda, Hanternoz, and Créatures) makes “Réservement de Confortale Présence” a uniquely mournful march, evoking Apocalypse Orchestra. Hearing acoustic and stringed instruments race to keep up with a full metal outfit on “Moribond Flétri d’Orgueil” is a fascinating experience, and it makes for an entertaining and strangely uplifting tune. Throughout it all, Hyvermor’s vocals (joined occasionally by La Griesche (Tour d’Ivoire) and Sparda, chant, rasp, and shout out stories for the ages, binding together the eclectic sound in a firmly metal base.

I’m not sure if Grylle has a particular weakness, but there are a number of small things about Egrotants, Souffreteux, Cacochymes, Covidards that keep me from being fully drawn in. “Grande Marche des Covidards” and “Réservement de Confortale Présence” both have nice moments musically, but give the impression of being half-finished, or containing ideas that never made it to full songs. As intro and interlude tracks, they’re easily forgettable, but without them, the album is only about half an hour. With only so much in the way of metal music, every moment has to count, and while most songs are very good—”Le Tropique du Cancer” in particular is exceptional—there are a few less exciting tracks, such as closer “La Triomphe de la Mort.” Hyvermor’s vocals are also an acquired taste; his delivery is expressive and strong but sits in an odd realm of being too strong for medieval folk and not quite dark enough for black metal. I wouldn’t say it doesn’t work, but there are moments here and there where you can imagine an alternate delivery or style suiting the song better. With that said, it is hard to blame Grylle for chasing an authentic sound, and most of the time, it works well.

Egrotants, Souffreteux, Cacochymes, Covidards is a fun album and Grylle is a project to keep an eye on. This is a style of music that is familiar and new, an approach to something established that I’ve never heard before. Grylle has written and performed it extremely well. As ever, I am eager to see where medieval metal goes from here—based on Egrotants, Souffreteux, Cacochymes, Covidards, the possibilities seem endless.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Antiq Records
Websites: grylle.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/grylleofficiel
Releases Worldwide: November 10th, 2024

#2024 #30 #AntiqRecords #ApocalypseOrchestra #BlackMetal #Créatures #EgrotantsSouffreteuxCacochymesCovidards #FolkMetal #FrenchMetal #Grylle #Hanternoz #Nov24 #OctoberFalls #Review #Reviews #TourDIvoire #Vehemence

Grylle – Egrotants, Souffreteux, Cacochymes, Covidards Review

By Twelve

I like Antiq Records. Generally, their albums tread the line between different, powerful, and weird very nicely, so it’s always a treat when one of their new releases happens by the Angry Metal Offices. It should come as no surprise that I’m a fan of Hyvermor. He’s the co-owner of the label and has been a part of several projects that I love—Hanternoz, Véhémence, and Grylle, to name a few. Grylle is perhaps the least “metal” of the three1, and also the folkiest, leaning fully into the medieval themes that serve Hyvermor and Antiq Records so well. Boasting an impressive lineup of guest musicians on all kinds of fun instruments, Egrotants, Souffreteux, Cacochymes, Covidards is the third full-length release from Gylle, and is, as per usual, a treat to explore.

Now, when I say an impressive lineup of guest musicians on all kinds of fun instruments, I mean it. Apart from bass and drums by KK and Cadavre respectively, there are no fewer than seven guest musicians on Egrotants, Souffreteux, Cacochymes, Covidards, whose contributions include a small horn section, citole, bagpipes, flutes, a hurdy gurdy, and something called a mandocello. As a result, Grylle’s music feels more multifaceted than it ever has before. More than previous records, Egrotants, Souffreteux, Cacochymes, Covidards is a black metal album firmly entrenched in medieval and folk themes, with one major difference—nearly all of the leads are performed by what I believe is the mandocello. Nearly all of the tremolo leads are acoustic, and even the distorted guitars are medieval instruments, though those are distorted enough to resemble the electric instruments of today. The result is what I imagine October Falls would sound like if you made them play the metal and acoustic bits at the same time; the riffs have that slick-yet-dark edge to them, while the acoustic sections enliven and enhance.

Of course, that’s not a perfect comparison, because Egrotants, Souffreteux, Cacochymes, Covidards is unquestionably a folk metal album. The gorgeous brass and trumpets (Lazareth) on”Mauvais Sang” work with mandocello and (I think) psaltery to add a shining, hopeful dimension to the song, while the hurdy gurdy (Sparda, Hanternoz, and Créatures) makes “Réservement de Confortale Présence” a uniquely mournful march, evoking Apocalypse Orchestra. Hearing acoustic and stringed instruments race to keep up with a full metal outfit on “Moribond Flétri d’Orgueil” is a fascinating experience, and it makes for an entertaining and strangely uplifting tune. Throughout it all, Hyvermor’s vocals (joined occasionally by La Griesche (Tour d’Ivoire) and Sparda, chant, rasp, and shout out stories for the ages, binding together the eclectic sound in a firmly metal base.

I’m not sure if Grylle has a particular weakness, but there are a number of small things about Egrotants, Souffreteux, Cacochymes, Covidards that keep me from being fully drawn in. “Grande Marche des Covidards” and “Réservement de Confortale Présence” both have nice moments musically, but give the impression of being half-finished, or containing ideas that never made it to full songs. As intro and interlude tracks, they’re easily forgettable, but without them, the album is only about half an hour. With only so much in the way of metal music, every moment has to count, and while most songs are very good—”Le Tropique du Cancer” in particular is exceptional—there are a few less exciting tracks, such as closer “La Triomphe de la Mort.” Hyvermor’s vocals are also an acquired taste; his delivery is expressive and strong but sits in an odd realm of being too strong for medieval folk and not quite dark enough for black metal. I wouldn’t say it doesn’t work, but there are moments here and there where you can imagine an alternate delivery or style suiting the song better. With that said, it is hard to blame Grylle for chasing an authentic sound, and most of the time, it works well.

Egrotants, Souffreteux, Cacochymes, Covidards is a fun album and Grylle is a project to keep an eye on. This is a style of music that is familiar and new, an approach to something established that I’ve never heard before. Grylle has written and performed it extremely well. As ever, I am eager to see where medieval metal goes from here—based on Egrotants, Souffreteux, Cacochymes, Covidards, the possibilities seem endless.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Antiq Records
Websites: grylle.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/grylleofficiel
Releases Worldwide: November 10th, 2024

#2024 #30 #AntiqRecords #ApocalypseOrchestra #BlackMetal #Créatures #EgrotantsSouffreteuxCacochymesCovidards #FolkMetal #FrenchMetal #Grylle #Hanternoz #Nov24 #OctoberFalls #Review #Reviews #TourDIvoire #Vehemence

Grylle – Egrotants, Souffreteux, Cacochymes, Covidards Review

By Twelve

I like Antiq Records. Generally, their albums tread the line between different, powerful, and weird very nicely, so it’s always a treat when one of their new releases happens by the Angry Metal Offices. It should come as no surprise that I’m a fan of Hyvermor. He’s the co-owner of the label and has been a part of several projects that I love—Hanternoz, Véhémence, and Grylle, to name a few. Grylle is perhaps the least “metal” of the three1, and also the folkiest, leaning fully into the medieval themes that serve Hyvermor and Antiq Records so well. Boasting an impressive lineup of guest musicians on all kinds of fun instruments, Egrotants, Souffreteux, Cacochymes, Covidards is the third full-length release from Gylle, and is, as per usual, a treat to explore.

Now, when I say an impressive lineup of guest musicians on all kinds of fun instruments, I mean it. Apart from bass and drums by KK and Cadavre respectively, there are no fewer than seven guest musicians on Egrotants, Souffreteux, Cacochymes, Covidards, whose contributions include a small horn section, citole, bagpipes, flutes, a hurdy gurdy, and something called a mandocello. As a result, Grylle’s music feels more multifaceted than it ever has before. More than previous records, Egrotants, Souffreteux, Cacochymes, Covidards is a black metal album firmly entrenched in medieval and folk themes, with one major difference—nearly all of the leads are performed by what I believe is the mandocello. Nearly all of the tremolo leads are acoustic, and even the distorted guitars are medieval instruments, though those are distorted enough to resemble the electric instruments of today. The result is what I imagine October Falls would sound like if you made them play the metal and acoustic bits at the same time; the riffs have that slick-yet-dark edge to them, while the acoustic sections enliven and enhance.

Of course, that’s not a perfect comparison, because Egrotants, Souffreteux, Cacochymes, Covidards is unquestionably a folk metal album. The gorgeous brass and trumpets (Lazareth) on”Mauvais Sang” work with mandocello and (I think) psaltery to add a shining, hopeful dimension to the song, while the hurdy gurdy (Sparda, Hanternoz, and Créatures) makes “Réservement de Confortale Présence” a uniquely mournful march, evoking Apocalypse Orchestra. Hearing acoustic and stringed instruments race to keep up with a full metal outfit on “Moribond Flétri d’Orgueil” is a fascinating experience, and it makes for an entertaining and strangely uplifting tune. Throughout it all, Hyvermor’s vocals (joined occasionally by La Griesche (Tour d’Ivoire) and Sparda, chant, rasp, and shout out stories for the ages, binding together the eclectic sound in a firmly metal base.

I’m not sure if Grylle has a particular weakness, but there are a number of small things about Egrotants, Souffreteux, Cacochymes, Covidards that keep me from being fully drawn in. “Grande Marche des Covidards” and “Réservement de Confortale Présence” both have nice moments musically, but give the impression of being half-finished, or containing ideas that never made it to full songs. As intro and interlude tracks, they’re easily forgettable, but without them, the album is only about half an hour. With only so much in the way of metal music, every moment has to count, and while most songs are very good—”Le Tropique du Cancer” in particular is exceptional—there are a few less exciting tracks, such as closer “La Triomphe de la Mort.” Hyvermor’s vocals are also an acquired taste; his delivery is expressive and strong but sits in an odd realm of being too strong for medieval folk and not quite dark enough for black metal. I wouldn’t say it doesn’t work, but there are moments here and there where you can imagine an alternate delivery or style suiting the song better. With that said, it is hard to blame Grylle for chasing an authentic sound, and most of the time, it works well.

Egrotants, Souffreteux, Cacochymes, Covidards is a fun album and Grylle is a project to keep an eye on. This is a style of music that is familiar and new, an approach to something established that I’ve never heard before. Grylle has written and performed it extremely well. As ever, I am eager to see where medieval metal goes from here—based on Egrotants, Souffreteux, Cacochymes, Covidards, the possibilities seem endless.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Antiq Records
Websites: grylle.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/grylleofficiel
Releases Worldwide: November 10th, 2024

#2024 #30 #AntiqRecords #ApocalypseOrchestra #BlackMetal #Créatures #EgrotantsSouffreteuxCacochymesCovidards #FolkMetal #FrenchMetal #Grylle #Hanternoz #Nov24 #OctoberFalls #Review #Reviews #TourDIvoire #Vehemence

Liljevars Brann – Helja Kor Review

By Mystikus Hugebeard

They say that 75% of a Finnish park ranger’s job is finding black metal bands that got lost in the woods shooting album covers. Suppose the park rangers in Germany had a similar issue. In that case, I imagine they would have the hardest time finding atmospheric black metal newcomers Liljevars Brann, given how musically deep into the woods they seek to take us in their debut album Helja Kor. Written in a fictional blend of German and Norwegian languages and dubbed “mystical black metal with a folkloric edge,” is Helja Kor a strong debut that conjures grasping roots to drag you into the heart of the forest, or are these woods still too close to the parking lot?

Liljevars Brann weaves together slow-tempo black metal with winding acoustic guitar passages. It worked when heavier bands like Panopticon or Ulvik did it,1 and it works here in Helja Kor. Melancholic guitar riffs plod beneath high-pitched harmonizing guitar wails like a reborn The 3rd and the Mortal with a harsher, black metal edge, regularly interspersed with panoramic acoustic sequences. Liljevars Brann excels at folk music; the guitars have a satisfying pluck and pace that happily reminds me of Uaral. The vocals, by frontman Sjelvindur, are one of the most compelling parts of Helja Kor. His clean vocals marry a mysterious folksiness with a warbling gothic cadence, and some of the album’s best moments come from Sjelvindur’s percussive intonation in the outro of “Helja Kor” and the somber shakiness of the beginning of “Krieglande.” Between the winning combination of black metal and folk music with the added edge of Sjelvindur’s unique vocals, the components of a great album are all here.

Unfortunately, Helja Kor struggles to truly find its footing due to meandering songwriting that begins to drag early on. Low intensity is one thing, but Helja Kor is also low energy, which makes it difficult to stay engaged. From the opener “Helja Kor” to the second-to-last “Krieglande,” every song is in the same torturously slow 3/4 time signature with minimal evolution or differentiation between songs. Even the rare black metal sections of the primarily acoustic “Sjelvind” feel melodically identical to those of the more predominantly heavy “Krieglande.” A 3/4 time signature isn’t an issue by itself, but after 40 minutes of overtly similar riffs in a stagnant tempo, it’s impossible not to crave variation. That comes in, blessedly, in “Brannstjeringen,” which ends the album on a miraculously high note through dynamic songwriting in a refreshing 4/4 time signature. “Brannstjeringen” builds towards an exciting, emotionally charged apotheosis that highlights how the remainder of Helja Kor lacks meaningful direction in its song structure, devoid of stirring peaks that move me like “Brannstjeringen” does.

Helja Kor touts a mystical, woodsy atmosphere, and this atmosphere is strong enough to partly compensate for what the songwriting lacks. The folk guitars are effectively paired with Sjelvindur’s vocals, and they just ooze arboreal mysticism. It’s a shame that an excess of melodic/harmonic repetition and languid structure permeate Helja Kor, because by themselves, the guitar harmonies in “Dansa Mej Brodar I Fyre” and “Krieglande” are enjoyable. It boggles the mind, then, how much the drums clash with Helja Kor’s atmosphere through a distracting mix that fails to effectively integrate them. The strength of Liljevars Brann’s acoustics is frequently undone in “Helja Kor,” “Dansa Mej Brodar I Fyre,” and “Sjelvind” by the incessant ting-ting-ting of the cymbals. Even towards the end of “Brannstjeringen,” the drums leave a stain on the song’s highest point with loud, off-tempo blast beats. It’s clear that Liljevars Brann has put a lot of thought into the unique atmosphere they want to create, but it unravels at almost every turn through songwriting that doesn’t support it and a mix that dilutes it.

Helja Kor is the type of record where it’s easier to appreciate what Liljevars Brann is trying to do than enjoy its execution. There are glimpses of a compelling folkloric atmosphere to be found, but Helja Kor flounders in excessive repetition, frequently dissatisfying structure, and irritating production choices. And yet, I abhor the thought of abandoning Liljevars Brann for good because there is a real vision here, and I want to see it realized. Helja Kor has enough individually solid aspects—Sjelvindur’s vocals, the Uaral-esque acoustics, the black metal harmonies, the peaks of “Brannstjeringen”—to compel me to keep my eye on Liljevars Brann in hopes that their next release finds me more lost in the woods than a mere park ranger can handle.

Rating: Disappointing
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s CBR MP3
Label: Argonauta Records
Websites: facebook | bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: September 27th, 2024

#20 #2024 #ArgonautaRecords #AtmosphericBlackMetal #BlackFolkMetal #BlackMetal #GermanMetal #HeljaKor #LiljevarsBrann #OctoberFalls #OctopusRising #Panopticon #Sep24 #The3rdAndTheMortal #Uaral #Ulver #Ulvik

Liljevars Brann – Helja Kor Review

By Mystikus Hugebeard

They say that 75% of a Finnish park ranger’s job is finding black metal bands that got lost in the woods shooting album covers. Suppose the park rangers in Germany had a similar issue. In that case, I imagine they would have the hardest time finding atmospheric black metal newcomers Liljevars Brann, given how musically deep into the woods they seek to take us in their debut album Helja Kor. Written in a fictional blend of German and Norwegian languages and dubbed “mystical black metal with a folkloric edge,” is Helja Kor a strong debut that conjures grasping roots to drag you into the heart of the forest, or are these woods still too close to the parking lot?

Liljevars Brann weaves together slow-tempo black metal with winding acoustic guitar passages. It worked when heavier bands like Panopticon or Ulvik did it,1 and it works here in Helja Kor. Melancholic guitar riffs plod beneath high-pitched harmonizing guitar wails like a reborn The 3rd and the Mortal with a harsher, black metal edge, regularly interspersed with panoramic acoustic sequences. Liljevars Brann excels at folk music; the guitars have a satisfying pluck and pace that happily reminds me of Uaral. The vocals, by frontman Sjelvindur, are one of the most compelling parts of Helja Kor. His clean vocals marry a mysterious folksiness with a warbling gothic cadence, and some of the album’s best moments come from Sjelvindur’s percussive intonation in the outro of “Helja Kor” and the somber shakiness of the beginning of “Krieglande.” Between the winning combination of black metal and folk music with the added edge of Sjelvindur’s unique vocals, the components of a great album are all here.

Unfortunately, Helja Kor struggles to truly find its footing due to meandering songwriting that begins to drag early on. Low intensity is one thing, but Helja Kor is also low energy, which makes it difficult to stay engaged. From the opener “Helja Kor” to the second-to-last “Krieglande,” every song is in the same torturously slow 3/4 time signature with minimal evolution or differentiation between songs. Even the rare black metal sections of the primarily acoustic “Sjelvind” feel melodically identical to those of the more predominantly heavy “Krieglande.” A 3/4 time signature isn’t an issue by itself, but after 40 minutes of overtly similar riffs in a stagnant tempo, it’s impossible not to crave variation. That comes in, blessedly, in “Brannstjeringen,” which ends the album on a miraculously high note through dynamic songwriting in a refreshing 4/4 time signature. “Brannstjeringen” builds towards an exciting, emotionally charged apotheosis that highlights how the remainder of Helja Kor lacks meaningful direction in its song structure, devoid of stirring peaks that move me like “Brannstjeringen” does.

Helja Kor touts a mystical, woodsy atmosphere, and this atmosphere is strong enough to partly compensate for what the songwriting lacks. The folk guitars are effectively paired with Sjelvindur’s vocals, and they just ooze arboreal mysticism. It’s a shame that an excess of melodic/harmonic repetition and languid structure permeate Helja Kor, because by themselves, the guitar harmonies in “Dansa Mej Brodar I Fyre” and “Krieglande” are enjoyable. It boggles the mind, then, how much the drums clash with Helja Kor’s atmosphere through a distracting mix that fails to effectively integrate them. The strength of Liljevars Brann’s acoustics is frequently undone in “Helja Kor,” “Dansa Mej Brodar I Fyre,” and “Sjelvind” by the incessant ting-ting-ting of the cymbals. Even towards the end of “Brannstjeringen,” the drums leave a stain on the song’s highest point with loud, off-tempo blast beats. It’s clear that Liljevars Brann has put a lot of thought into the unique atmosphere they want to create, but it unravels at almost every turn through songwriting that doesn’t support it and a mix that dilutes it.

Helja Kor is the type of record where it’s easier to appreciate what Liljevars Brann is trying to do than enjoy its execution. There are glimpses of a compelling folkloric atmosphere to be found, but Helja Kor flounders in excessive repetition, frequently dissatisfying structure, and irritating production choices. And yet, I abhor the thought of abandoning Liljevars Brann for good because there is a real vision here, and I want to see it realized. Helja Kor has enough individually solid aspects—Sjelvindur’s vocals, the Uaral-esque acoustics, the black metal harmonies, the peaks of “Brannstjeringen”—to compel me to keep my eye on Liljevars Brann in hopes that their next release finds me more lost in the woods than a mere park ranger can handle.

Rating: Disappointing
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s CBR MP3
Label: Argonauta Records
Websites: facebook | bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: September 27th, 2024

#20 #2024 #ArgonautaRecords #AtmosphericBlackMetal #BlackFolkMetal #BlackMetal #GermanMetal #HeljaKor #LiljevarsBrann #OctoberFalls #OctopusRising #Panopticon #Sep24 #The3rdAndTheMortal #Uaral #Ulver #Ulvik

Liljevars Brann – Helja Kor Review

By Mystikus Hugebeard

They say that 75% of a Finnish park ranger’s job is finding black metal bands that got lost in the woods shooting album covers. Suppose the park rangers in Germany had a similar issue. In that case, I imagine they would have the hardest time finding atmospheric black metal newcomers Liljevars Brann, given how musically deep into the woods they seek to take us in their debut album Helja Kor. Written in a fictional blend of German and Norwegian languages and dubbed “mystical black metal with a folkloric edge,” is Helja Kor a strong debut that conjures grasping roots to drag you into the heart of the forest, or are these woods still too close to the parking lot?

Liljevars Brann weaves together slow-tempo black metal with winding acoustic guitar passages. It worked when heavier bands like Panopticon or Ulvik did it,1 and it works here in Helja Kor. Melancholic guitar riffs plod beneath high-pitched harmonizing guitar wails like a reborn The 3rd and the Mortal with a harsher, black metal edge, regularly interspersed with panoramic acoustic sequences. Liljevars Brann excels at folk music; the guitars have a satisfying pluck and pace that happily reminds me of Uaral. The vocals, by frontman Sjelvindur, are one of the most compelling parts of Helja Kor. His clean vocals marry a mysterious folksiness with a warbling gothic cadence, and some of the album’s best moments come from Sjelvindur’s percussive intonation in the outro of “Helja Kor” and the somber shakiness of the beginning of “Krieglande.” Between the winning combination of black metal and folk music with the added edge of Sjelvindur’s unique vocals, the components of a great album are all here.

Unfortunately, Helja Kor struggles to truly find its footing due to meandering songwriting that begins to drag early on. Low intensity is one thing, but Helja Kor is also low energy, which makes it difficult to stay engaged. From the opener “Helja Kor” to the second-to-last “Krieglande,” every song is in the same torturously slow 3/4 time signature with minimal evolution or differentiation between songs. Even the rare black metal sections of the primarily acoustic “Sjelvind” feel melodically identical to those of the more predominantly heavy “Krieglande.” A 3/4 time signature isn’t an issue by itself, but after 40 minutes of overtly similar riffs in a stagnant tempo, it’s impossible not to crave variation. That comes in, blessedly, in “Brannstjeringen,” which ends the album on a miraculously high note through dynamic songwriting in a refreshing 4/4 time signature. “Brannstjeringen” builds towards an exciting, emotionally charged apotheosis that highlights how the remainder of Helja Kor lacks meaningful direction in its song structure, devoid of stirring peaks that move me like “Brannstjeringen” does.

Helja Kor touts a mystical, woodsy atmosphere, and this atmosphere is strong enough to partly compensate for what the songwriting lacks. The folk guitars are effectively paired with Sjelvindur’s vocals, and they just ooze arboreal mysticism. It’s a shame that an excess of melodic/harmonic repetition and languid structure permeate Helja Kor, because by themselves, the guitar harmonies in “Dansa Mej Brodar I Fyre” and “Krieglande” are enjoyable. It boggles the mind, then, how much the drums clash with Helja Kor’s atmosphere through a distracting mix that fails to effectively integrate them. The strength of Liljevars Brann’s acoustics is frequently undone in “Helja Kor,” “Dansa Mej Brodar I Fyre,” and “Sjelvind” by the incessant ting-ting-ting of the cymbals. Even towards the end of “Brannstjeringen,” the drums leave a stain on the song’s highest point with loud, off-tempo blast beats. It’s clear that Liljevars Brann has put a lot of thought into the unique atmosphere they want to create, but it unravels at almost every turn through songwriting that doesn’t support it and a mix that dilutes it.

Helja Kor is the type of record where it’s easier to appreciate what Liljevars Brann is trying to do than enjoy its execution. There are glimpses of a compelling folkloric atmosphere to be found, but Helja Kor flounders in excessive repetition, frequently dissatisfying structure, and irritating production choices. And yet, I abhor the thought of abandoning Liljevars Brann for good because there is a real vision here, and I want to see it realized. Helja Kor has enough individually solid aspects—Sjelvindur’s vocals, the Uaral-esque acoustics, the black metal harmonies, the peaks of “Brannstjeringen”—to compel me to keep my eye on Liljevars Brann in hopes that their next release finds me more lost in the woods than a mere park ranger can handle.

Rating: Disappointing
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s CBR MP3
Label: Argonauta Records
Websites: facebook | bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: September 27th, 2024

#20 #2024 #ArgonautaRecords #AtmosphericBlackMetal #BlackFolkMetal #BlackMetal #GermanMetal #HeljaKor #LiljevarsBrann #OctoberFalls #OctopusRising #Panopticon #Sep24 #The3rdAndTheMortal #Uaral #Ulver #Ulvik