#oldmanschild — Public Fediverse posts

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lamp of Murmuur – The Dreaming Prince in Ecstasy Review

By Tyme

L.A.-based M., the mastermind behind Lamp of Murmuur, has been busy this year. In addition to releasing two other solo projects—Silent Thunder’s EP, Soulspear, and Magus Lord’s full-length, In the Company of Champions—he’s readying to unleash his fourth Lamp of Murmuur long player, The Dreaming Prince in Ecstasy, this November. Far removed from the very lo-fi, kvltish cassette-only demos of 2019, Lamp of Murmuur has steadily matured over the years. Our resident shark, Carcharodon, had ‘tons of fucking fun’ with 2023’s Saturnian Bloodstorm, highlighting its heavy Immortal influence. When I spied The Dreaming Prince in Ecstasy sitting unclaimed in the sump, I reached out to our scrivening squalus, who graciously ceded his seniority, hoping I had as much fun with LoM’s newest outing as he had with its last. Will The Dreaming Prince in Ecstasy build off the excitement of Saturnian Bloodstorm, and further M.’s musical momentum, or will we discover that Lamp of Murmuur’s shine has dimmed a bit?

At first blush, The Dreaming Prince in Ecstasy extends Saturnian Bloodstorm’s thrashing black metal template before wading into waters teeming with new wave and gothic metal elements. Immortal’s influence still lurks amidst M.’s swirling, rapid-fire tremolos and galloping chugs (“Hategate (the Dream-Master’s Realm)”), while twinkling, Këkht Aräkh-like keys lace the guitar-driven melodies on “Forest of Hallucinations,” its intro emitting South of Heaven-era Slayer vibes from the harmonized leads. M.’s vocals, as blackly metallic and viscerally lethal as ever, are dichotomously connected to the music and venture into minimally explored cleaner climes while sharing the spotlight on “A Brute Angel’s Sorrow” with guest vocalist Crying Orc (Këkht Aräkh).1 For beyond the Nightmare on Elm Street meets Black Aria2 vibes of instrumental opener “The Fires of Seduction,” lie the equally moody atmospheres of mid-album interlude “Angelic Vortex,” which serves as a portal, ushering listeners from Lamp of Murmuur’s past into what The Dreaming Prince in Ecstasy represents for the project’s future.

Three-part title track, “The Dreaming Prince in Ecstasy,” is the album highlight. Without jettisoning its black metal roots, Lamp of Murmuur shrouds this triptych in a Sólstafiric, proggy haze of spacy, 70s-style rock guitar solos and cascading Phantom of the Operatic progressions (“Part I – Moondance”), melodic, soaring leads (“Part II – Twilight Orgasm”) and a romping, symphonic paganism (“Part III – The Fall”) reminiscent of early Old Man’s Child. In addition, M.’s broadening, clean vocals inject new-wave intensity into the non-harsh moments of “Moondance,” a Moroder & Bowie “Cat People (Putting Out the Fire)” feel into the latter croons of “Twilight Orgasm,” and an effective, Cattle Decapitation-esque tonal rasp into “The Fall.” I think I had as much fun diving in and out of the waters of this stretch of TDPiE as our beloved sharkster had ingesting the whole of Saturnian Bloodstorm.

As often as dichotomy spearheads musical diversity, however, it can also foster unintended inconsistency, and in the court of The Dreaming Prince in Ecstasy’s case, the latter unfortunately testifies loudest. As many moments of greatness exist on both halves of TDPiE’s whole, so too do some missteps. M.’s first instance of cleans, for example, at the end of “Hategate (The Dream-Master’s Realm)” sound out of tune and pulled me from an otherwise enjoyable listen during every spin. In addition, “Part I – Moondance” contains some awkwardly off-key musical transitions, and at times, the staccato, machine-gun riffage in “Part III – The Fall” feels out of sync with the drumming. And as much as I enjoyed the acoustically well-executed and clean-sung “A Brute Angel’s Sorrow,” its off-putting, last-batter-in-the-lineup positioning completely saps the majesty from the silence left in the wake of “Part III – The Fall”‘s last powerful chord.

A tenet often adhered to despite its obtusity is that broadened popularity for a band that launched its career from the darkened shadows of the kvlt black metal world usually leads to its death or disownment. In the case of Lamp of Murmuur, a forerunner of the current USBM scene, opinions may vary. As it stands, The Dreaming Prince in Ecstasy is a full-length that, if released as a pair of EPs, might have transcended its holistic inconsistencies. I’ve grown past the distaste I felt on initial listens to appreciate both sides of what Lamp of Murmuur has done here and look forward to M.’s continued growth, as should you.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320kbps mp3
Label: Wolves of Hades
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: November 14th, 2025

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