#opeth — Public Fediverse posts

Metal is filled with reluctant vocalists. Whether it’s Dave Mustaine ultimately deciding to front Megadeth, or Mikael Åkerfeldt hesitantly filling the void in Opeth, or Troy Sanders and Brent Hinds eventually co-voicing Mastodon,1 vocals often exist in the genre as an afterthought. But what happens when there’s no after to the afterthought? You get something like Only Echoes, an instrumental post-metal quartet from Denver, CO. In their promo materials, Only Echoes explain that they formed expecting vocals to play a part in their music, but ‘when the time came to decide who would sing, no one raised a hand.’ This lack of vocals, however, became a staple of the band’s identity, fueling their self-titled EP (2018) and debut LP Sunsickness (2022), both of which were independently released. Arriving via Braeburn Records, sophomore album Born Adrift promises ‘an internal narrative without relying on lyrics to explain it.’ Said promo materials do, however, sketch the narrative: the album charts ‘a journey through survival, uncertainty, and the strange momentum that keeps a person moving through hostile waters.’

Without a vocalist, Only Echoes rely on the versatile arsenals of their instrumentalists to convey Born Adrift’s arc. The band references several acts one would expect as influences on an (instrumental) post-metal album: Russian Circles, Pelican, Isis.2 On the guitar front, Austin Minney and Dustin Yourishin combine for a menagerie of flickering melodies, glimmering clean chords, and chunky chugs. Drummer Zach Sirotkin lays down a bevy of blast beats, d-beats, and double-bass thunder. Meanwhile, bassist Ben Rosenberg periodically pokes through the mix with some upper-fret flourishes. As some elements of this description of Only Echoes hint at, Born Adrift doesn’t quite channel the spirit of the bands cited above. Yes, there are some well-earned quiet-to-heavy, heavy-to-quiet transitions across the album. But by and large, Only Echoes play far less patiently than these groups, swiftly shuffling between blissed-out breathers, punk-rock paces, and core-ish chuggery. Despite their mostly 6–8 minute lengths, the songs tend to sound like bursts of metal grab bag.

Because all but one song on Born Adrift briskly bounces between styles, any sense of album-spanning narrative is hard to detect. My criticism of the grab-bag songwriting notwithstanding, “Born Adrift” and “Tempest” do open the record with excitement, showcasing a band capable of moving melodies and infectious tempos. “So Tightly Bound” seems like it will be compositionally different; it develops an enchanting vibe across three minutes. But then the song quickly jumps into a d-beat-driven punk part, capped off with some obligatory chugging. It’s as if there’s a missing middle between the beginning and the punky outburst. After the aptly titled interlude (“Inter”), the album closes by showing some signs of patient development (“Steps Ahead of Drowning”). But then Only Echoes revert back to their familiar mode, jarringly contrasting serene buildups with breakneck speed (“Shimmering Death”). At 35 minutes, Born Adrift isn’t exactly a chore to get through, but it often feels longer than it is. I almost get the sense that Only Echoes tried to cram an album’s worth of material into nearly every song.

Unfortunately, sonic missteps also become a barrier to enjoying Only Echoes’s sophomore outing. On the production end of things, Born Adrift does seem cognizant of intentional mixing: the drums and bass grow more present in sections where the guitars are textural and ambient. The guitars, however, unpleasantly dominate the mix when Minney and Yourishin turn towards chugging rhythms. The bass, when it sticks to lower registers, gets lost and feels inessential. The big issue, however, concerns the low bitrate of Born Adrift’s audio files (128 kbps). At lower volumes, the album sounds compressed and mushy; at higher volumes, it’s clippy and grating. As a metal album in want of blasting, this latter fact is quite unfortunate.

Born Adrift ultimately disappoints, but not for its lack of vocals per se. As instrumentalists, Only Echoes clearly possess chops, and they show a knack for crafting and connecting affecting passages (“Born Adrift,” “Tempest”). Too often, however, these passages are disrupted by abrupt stylistic changes that come off as contrived. Additionally, the sonic flaws sadly hamper an album that does, at times, sound massive and powerful. In my view, Only Echoes don’t necessarily need someone to step up and command the microphone. They might, however, exercise the kind of restrained patience that, for me at least, tends to make for notable instrumental metal/rock.

Rating: 2.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 128 kbps mp3
Label: Braeburn Records
Websites: Official | Instagram | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: August 14th, 2026

Show 2 footnotes

1. Yes, Brann Dailor also sings for Mastodon, but not at the outset. ↩
2. The band also cite Deafheaven and God Is an Astronaut as influences. ↩

Metal is filled with reluctant vocalists. Whether it’s Dave Mustaine ultimately deciding to front Megadeth, or Mikael Åkerfeldt hesitantly filling the void in Opeth, or Troy Sanders and Brent Hinds eventually co-voicing Mastodon,1 vocals often exist in the genre as an afterthought. But what happens when there’s no after to the afterthought? You get something like Only Echoes, an instrumental post-metal quartet from Denver, CO. In their promo materials, Only Echoes explain that they formed expecting vocals to play a part in their music, but ‘when the time came to decide who would sing, no one raised a hand.’ This lack of vocals, however, became a staple of the band’s identity, fueling their self-titled EP (2018) and debut LP Sunsickness (2022), both of which were independently released. Arriving via Braeburn Records, sophomore album Born Adrift promises ‘an internal narrative without relying on lyrics to explain it.’ Said promo materials do, however, sketch the narrative: the album charts ‘a journey through survival, uncertainty, and the strange momentum that keeps a person moving through hostile waters.’

Without a vocalist, Only Echoes rely on the versatile arsenals of their instrumentalists to convey Born Adrift’s arc. The band references several acts one would expect as influences on an (instrumental) post-metal album: Russian Circles, Pelican, Isis.2 On the guitar front, Austin Minney and Dustin Yourishin combine for a menagerie of flickering melodies, glimmering clean chords, and chunky chugs. Drummer Zach Sirotkin lays down a bevy of blast beats, d-beats, and double-bass thunder. Meanwhile, bassist Ben Rosenberg periodically pokes through the mix with some upper-fret flourishes. As some elements of this description of Only Echoes hint at, Born Adrift doesn’t quite channel the spirit of the bands cited above. Yes, there are some well-earned quiet-to-heavy, heavy-to-quiet transitions across the album. But by and large, Only Echoes play far less patiently than these groups, swiftly shuffling between blissed-out breathers, punk-rock paces, and core-ish chuggery. Despite their mostly 6–8 minute lengths, the songs tend to sound like bursts of metal grab bag.

Because all but one song on Born Adrift briskly bounces between styles, any sense of album-spanning narrative is hard to detect. My criticism of the grab-bag songwriting notwithstanding, “Born Adrift” and “Tempest” do open the record with excitement, showcasing a band capable of moving melodies and infectious tempos. “So Tightly Bound” seems like it will be compositionally different; it develops an enchanting vibe across three minutes. But then the song quickly jumps into a d-beat-driven punk part, capped off with some obligatory chugging. It’s as if there’s a missing middle between the beginning and the punky outburst. After the aptly titled interlude (“Inter”), the album closes by showing some signs of patient development (“Steps Ahead of Drowning”). But then Only Echoes revert back to their familiar mode, jarringly contrasting serene buildups with breakneck speed (“Shimmering Death”). At 35 minutes, Born Adrift isn’t exactly a chore to get through, but it often feels longer than it is. I almost get the sense that Only Echoes tried to cram an album’s worth of material into nearly every song.

Unfortunately, sonic missteps also become a barrier to enjoying Only Echoes’s sophomore outing. On the production end of things, Born Adrift does seem cognizant of intentional mixing: the drums and bass grow more present in sections where the guitars are textural and ambient. The guitars, however, unpleasantly dominate the mix when Minney and Yourishin turn towards chugging rhythms. The bass, when it sticks to lower registers, gets lost and feels inessential. The big issue, however, concerns the low bitrate of Born Adrift’s audio files (128 kbps). At lower volumes, the album sounds compressed and mushy; at higher volumes, it’s clippy and grating. As a metal album in want of blasting, this latter fact is quite unfortunate.

Born Adrift ultimately disappoints, but not for its lack of vocals per se. As instrumentalists, Only Echoes clearly possess chops, and they show a knack for crafting and connecting affecting passages (“Born Adrift,” “Tempest”). Too often, however, these passages are disrupted by abrupt stylistic changes that come off as contrived. Additionally, the sonic flaws sadly hamper an album that does, at times, sound massive and powerful. In my view, Only Echoes don’t necessarily need someone to step up and command the microphone. They might, however, exercise the kind of restrained patience that, for me at least, tends to make for notable instrumental metal/rock.

Rating: 2.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 128 kbps mp3
Label: Braeburn Records
Websites: Official | Instagram | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: August 14th, 2026

Music to accompany the return to work... #opeth

https://open.spotify.com/album/0NAN3xcePJlVbTY1YaXCqK?si=umudtASKQMWsHUokL4iY1A

Music to accompany the return to work... #opeth

https://open.spotify.com/album/0NAN3xcePJlVbTY1YaXCqK?si=umudtASKQMWsHUokL4iY1A

I published 3 new #WhiteroomReviews #AlcatrazFestival photo specials:
- #Tailgunner
- #DeadSerious
- #BrutalSphincter

Via Brothers in RAW I published items regarding:
- #MysticalDeath
- #VomitorialCorpulence
- #PLÅNET
- Tilburg Metalfest
- #Theosophy
- #Opeth + #Hällas

Go check them out <3

Since the last Filter dropped, it still hasn’t stopped raining and storming in my neck of the woods. Consequently, my minions trudge evermore through the thin sheet metal of our ducts as the thunder rattles everything like so many dice in a tabletop nerd’s clutches.1 Yet I must press them and push them, for we have quotas to meet and ravenous appetites to sate.

So it is with shaky hands and discombobulated craniums that my grunts hand over the goods. BEHOLD!

Kenstrosity’s Thrashed Thrall

Ascended Master // Crepuscular Gloom [May 8th, 2026 – Self Released]

Death thrash is best thrash, if you ask this sponge. Something about this unholy combo really rustles my jimmies, especially when its executed with great speed and riff-centered fervor. Cincinnati’s Ascended Master nail that combination right into the grave, boasting a sound that’s three parts Death, one part Atheist, and a pinch of Blood Red Throne. With a sense of groove that gives barnburners “Blood Spilled Upon the Stars,” “Crepuscular Gloom,” and rabid closer “Xenopaleontology” a deadly swagger liable to cause fierce whiplash in all who would headbang to it, debut LP Crepuscular Gloom” is a record pumped full of testosterone and adrenaline. Speedy rippers like “Midnight Mother” and “Ghoul Queen” put the pedal to the metal with a ferocity more commonly associated with Kvaen or Hellripper in the modern pantheon, but the record’s natural engineering and coherent screams hark to earlier times where Death reigned supreme in the scene. However, it would be inaccurate to call it pure worship. Ascended Master have an intense personality and a particular ferocity that allows Crepuscular Gloom to integrate smoothly into their respective category without blending into the crowd. As their career develops from this point, I expect we’ll see their identity bloom and rise with greater distinction, further setting them apart and threatening year-end lists all around. Just wait, you’ll see!

ClarkKent’s Prehistoric Pulls

Ilienses Tree // Toward the Storm [May 1st, 2026 – Meuse Music Records]

Ilienses Tree sow their roots deep into the island the band originates from—Sardinia, just off the coast of Italy. Their name, Ilienses, refers to an ancient Nuragic civilization that, during the Bronze Age, built impressive stone tower structures that still stand today. While the band isn’t nearly so old, their second album, Toward the Storm, dabbles in the sort of slow, deliberate doom that speaks of the patience of those ancient ruins. They lean towards a style of funeral doom that has the brutal power of My Dying Bride, but their record also contains the unpredictable dynamic drumming of Oromet and sneaks into speedier death/doom territory akin to Paradise Lost and Novembers Doom. Ilienses Tree have a mastery over melancholic lead riffs, such as the one that opens “To Not Be Forgotten.” “Sudden Rain” flexes the band’s creative muscle most impressively. Beginning in a slow burn and anchored by a poignant guitar lead, the song has a sudden burst of energy, turns in a lovely duet between arpeggiated riffs and bass, and features several more memorable and distinct guitar leads. Though the songs average nine minutes, they fit neatly into a 38-minute record, and thanks to progressive structures, they never feel overlong. If you’d like some music that simultaneously hits you in the feels and provides a shot of adrenaline, then go towards, not away from, this storm.

Anna Fiori // Metztli [May 21st, 2026 – Self Released]

Sometimes symphonic metal bands grow a touch stale from a failure to innovate, relying too heavily on the gimmick of symphonic instruments. Anna Fiori, however, has created something pretty special, with a Mexican/Aztec twist on the genre. Her band mixes “pre-Hispanic instrumentation” with cinematic symphonics and heavy guitars to create thrilling high-energy music. While some songs hit a more poppy Beyond the Black mold (“En El Vacio”), others take a longer-form route. The nine-minute “Luna Llena (Xiki Noeso)” blends indigenous chants and flutes with orchestral elements that sometimes sound like an exciting score to a whimsical adventure film. The highlight, “Luna Menguante (Nimotemak),” contains a mix of cool riffs, flutes, and blast beats before taking us on a bonkers ride involving operatic singing, off-kilter pianos, a few solos, and perhaps the summoning of a demon or two. While the song compositions are tons of fun, Fiori’s performance ties it all together. She sings in the sweet poppy manner of Epica’s Simone Simons, the operatic style of many a Therion singer, and even some growls in the spirit of Seven Spires’s Adrienne Cowen, if not quite her power. Fiori even briefly raps on a couple of tracks, with a pretty impressive section on the outro track, “Tetzahuitl, Pt. 2: El Origen,” and goes off-script with an infectious laugh on “Entre Mil Voces.” Clearly she’s having a lot of fun. Metztli hits some of the familiar symphonic notes while injecting enough personality of its own to make for an entertaining, and sometimes wild, ride.

Grin Reaper’s Spring Fling

Beyond the Veil // Oblivion [May 1st, 2026 – Wormholedeath Records]

There’s little online information about Tokyo prog metallers Beyond the Veil,2 and while I don’t recall how I stumbled across debut Oblivion, I’m glad I did. Upon listening, I was immediately enamored by their familiar yet enchanting blend of drama and technicality. Fans of Opeth and Dream Theater will uncover a trove of unapologetic prog where Beyond the Veil weaves gorgeously conceived instrumentation into intricate compositions. Oblivion also embraces long-form arrangements, sporting six tracks ranging between seven-and-a-half and sixteen minutes each. Credit to Beyond the Veil, though, because even with such robust runtimes totaling over an hour, Oblivion never feels repetitive or bankrupt of ideas. Quite the opposite, in fact, as each listen reveals new knots to untangle and coils to unwind. Perhaps the facet I’ve come to appreciate the most as I revisit Oblivion is Beyond the Veil’s merger of piano, mellotron, and orchestrations with guitar, bass, and drums. They’re hardly the first band to do this, but each song sounds well-attuned to incorporating the right instrument for the right part rather than spotlighting heavy-handed wankery, allowing Oblivion to soar. While Beyond the Veil doesn’t break the mold with this one, getting lost in Oblivion never sounded so sweet.

Lago // Vigil [May 8th, 2026 – Everlasting Spew Records]

Vigil introduced me to Lago and their infectiously abrasive death metal, and this album is forty-two minutes of unhinged brutality flecked with melody. The blood of Immolation, Morbid Angel, and Incantation pumps through Lago’s veins, delivering unapologetic tangles of dissonant, jangling guitars, fuming blast beats, and murky bass runs beneath Cole Jacobsen’s devilishly demented gutturals. Lago’s brew is potent stuff, swirling and churning with caustic acid that will leave your eardrums scarred and cowed with nary a moment wasted. Complimenting the devastating filth Lago dredges is Gus Barr’s warbling lead guitar, which cuts through the grime with off-kilter shredding. “Behold, Ruin” and “Initiation Rite” hit with the immediacy and aplomb of Immolation, lurching onwards with Brian Miller’s timekeeping straight out of Close to a World Below’s playbook. Meanwhile, “Procession into Slaughter” and “The Land Was a Desert” launch into Azagthoth-tinged, otherworldly riffs. Everything about Lago screams danger, yet once the blood starts flowing it’s impossible to turn away from their murderously addictive violence. Once Vigil has its hooks in you, you won’t want them to Lago.

Redshift // Down the Wire [May 29th, 2026 – Pale Wizard Records]

As a massive Rush fan, Redshift’s Down the Wire immediately caught my attention with ample parallels. A power trio wielding buttery smooth bass lines, Lifeson-leaning chords, and Tiago Martins’ tender tenor call to mind Canada’s greatest export for all the right reasons. Yet Bath, England’s Redshift is more than a Rush clone, and on Down the Wire they bounce and whip in syncopated flurries and chromatic runs while dabbling with vocoded vocals and deathly roars. As the best prog does, Redshift explores vast territory in a commensurately brief runtime. Opener “The Routine” hits the Rush influence hard and early, but “The Clown” draws upon Synchestra-era Devin Townsend kookiness while “The Rogue” dabbles in Yesified eclecticism and even features guest keys from Derek Sherinian (ex-Dream Theater, ex-Yngwie Malmsteen). One thing Redshift steers away from is the self-seriousness associated with a lot of prog, and Down the Wire radiates a pervasive sense of fun. Trumpets and samba-coded melodies enliven “The Rogue” while “The Singer” assaults with fierce growls, wicked solos, and perfectly balanced instrumental interplay. Down the Wire fires on all cylinders, scorching with progressive songwriting and so much replayability that I regret not getting the chance to write a review in full. If you’re Down to the Wire and need a prog fix quickly, Redshift is a clever choice that won’t disappoint.

Spicie Forrest’s Nostalgic Nugget

Haste the Day // Dissenter [May 1st, 2026 – Solid State Records]

I haven’t heard the name Haste the Day since 2008. At the time, I was on the tail end of my metalcore phase and pushing into heavier styles, so while I recognized their quality, I didn’t latch on to them as I did other acts of their ilk. It’s a shame, because Dissenter is the sound of my adolescence. Slinging the same emo-flavored metalcore as early As I Lay Dying and August Burns Red, the Indianapolis-based six-piece offers 39 minutes of beautifully aching nostalgia. Stephen Keech’s lead vocals sound pushed and strained (complimentary), evoking the emotion of early Linkin Park (“Shallows,” “Grave”). Guitarists Scott Whelan, Brennan Chaulk, and Dave Krysl are so in sync, delivering stellar layered riffs and leads felt in the soul (“Burn”). When Michael Murphy’s bass comes to the fore, as on “Liminal,” he brings a heaviness and intensity that hurtles me back to middle school like it was just yesterday. Dissenter is a bit heavier and faster on the front end, but even the not-quite-overwrought power ballads of the back half maintain their drive and pacing thanks to Giuseppe Capolupo’s kit work (“Adrift,” “Escape”). For those of us who cut our teeth on acts like Haste the Day, late-career and comeback albums can be an anxious affair, but I’m happy to report that Dissenter is a worthy walk down memory lane.

Since the last Filter dropped, it still hasn’t stopped raining and storming in my neck of the woods. Consequently, my minions trudge evermore through the thin sheet metal of our ducts as the thunder rattles everything like so many dice in a tabletop nerd’s clutches.1 Yet I must press them and push them, for we have quotas to meet and ravenous appetites to sate.

So it is with shaky hands and discombobulated craniums that my grunts hand over the goods. BEHOLD!

Kenstrosity’s Thrashed Thrall

Ascended Master // Crepuscular Gloom [May 8th, 2026 – Self Released]

Death thrash is best thrash, if you ask this sponge. Something about this unholy combo really rustles my jimmies, especially when its executed with great speed and riff-centered fervor. Cincinnati’s Ascended Master nail that combination right into the grave, boasting a sound that’s three parts Death, one part Atheist, and a pinch of Blood Red Throne. With a sense of groove that gives barnburners “Blood Spilled Upon the Stars,” “Crepuscular Gloom,” and rabid closer “Xenopaleontology” a deadly swagger liable to cause fierce whiplash in all who would headbang to it, debut LP Crepuscular Gloom” is a record pumped full of testosterone and adrenaline. Speedy rippers like “Midnight Mother” and “Ghoul Queen” put the pedal to the metal with a ferocity more commonly associated with Kvaen or Hellripper in the modern pantheon, but the record’s natural engineering and coherent screams hark to earlier times where Death reigned supreme in the scene. However, it would be inaccurate to call it pure worship. Ascended Master have an intense personality and a particular ferocity that allows Crepuscular Gloom to integrate smoothly into their respective category without blending into the crowd. As their career develops from this point, I expect we’ll see their identity bloom and rise with greater distinction, further setting them apart and threatening year-end lists all around. Just wait, you’ll see!

ClarkKent’s Prehistoric Pulls

Ilienses Tree // Toward the Storm [May 1st, 2026 – Meuse Music Records]

Ilienses Tree sow their roots deep into the island the band originates from—Sardinia, just off the coast of Italy. Their name, Ilienses, refers to an ancient Nuragic civilization that, during the Bronze Age, built impressive stone tower structures that still stand today. While the band isn’t nearly so old, their second album, Toward the Storm, dabbles in the sort of slow, deliberate doom that speaks of the patience of those ancient ruins. They lean towards a style of funeral doom that has the brutal power of My Dying Bride, but their record also contains the unpredictable dynamic drumming of Oromet and sneaks into speedier death/doom territory akin to Paradise Lost and Novembers Doom. Ilienses Tree have a mastery over melancholic lead riffs, such as the one that opens “To Not Be Forgotten.” “Sudden Rain” flexes the band’s creative muscle most impressively. Beginning in a slow burn and anchored by a poignant guitar lead, the song has a sudden burst of energy, turns in a lovely duet between arpeggiated riffs and bass, and features several more memorable and distinct guitar leads. Though the songs average nine minutes, they fit neatly into a 38-minute record, and thanks to progressive structures, they never feel overlong. If you’d like some music that simultaneously hits you in the feels and provides a shot of adrenaline, then go towards, not away from, this storm.

Anna Fiori // Metztli [May 21st, 2026 – Self Released]

Sometimes symphonic metal bands grow a touch stale from a failure to innovate, relying too heavily on the gimmick of symphonic instruments. Anna Fiori, however, has created something pretty special, with a Mexican/Aztec twist on the genre. Her band mixes “pre-Hispanic instrumentation” with cinematic symphonics and heavy guitars to create thrilling high-energy music. While some songs hit a more poppy Beyond the Black mold (“En El Vacio”), others take a longer-form route. The nine-minute “Luna Llena (Xiki Noeso)” blends indigenous chants and flutes with orchestral elements that sometimes sound like an exciting score to a whimsical adventure film. The highlight, “Luna Menguante (Nimotemak),” contains a mix of cool riffs, flutes, and blast beats before taking us on a bonkers ride involving operatic singing, off-kilter pianos, a few solos, and perhaps the summoning of a demon or two. While the song compositions are tons of fun, Fiori’s performance ties it all together. She sings in the sweet poppy manner of Epica’s Simone Simons, the operatic style of many a Therion singer, and even some growls in the spirit of Seven Spires’s Adrienne Cowen, if not quite her power. Fiori even briefly raps on a couple of tracks, with a pretty impressive section on the outro track, “Tetzahuitl, Pt. 2: El Origen,” and goes off-script with an infectious laugh on “Entre Mil Voces.” Clearly she’s having a lot of fun. Metztli hits some of the familiar symphonic notes while injecting enough personality of its own to make for an entertaining, and sometimes wild, ride.

Grin Reaper’s Spring Fling

Beyond the Veil // Oblivion [May 1st, 2026 – Wormholedeath Records]

There’s little online information about Tokyo prog metallers Beyond the Veil,2 and while I don’t recall how I stumbled across debut Oblivion, I’m glad I did. Upon listening, I was immediately enamored by their familiar yet enchanting blend of drama and technicality. Fans of Opeth and Dream Theater will uncover a trove of unapologetic prog where Beyond the Veil weaves gorgeously conceived instrumentation into intricate compositions. Oblivion also embraces long-form arrangements, sporting six tracks ranging between seven-and-a-half and sixteen minutes each. Credit to Beyond the Veil, though, because even with such robust runtimes totaling over an hour, Oblivion never feels repetitive or bankrupt of ideas. Quite the opposite, in fact, as each listen reveals new knots to untangle and coils to unwind. Perhaps the facet I’ve come to appreciate the most as I revisit Oblivion is Beyond the Veil’s merger of piano, mellotron, and orchestrations with guitar, bass, and drums. They’re hardly the first band to do this, but each song sounds well-attuned to incorporating the right instrument for the right part rather than spotlighting heavy-handed wankery, allowing Oblivion to soar. While Beyond the Veil doesn’t break the mold with this one, getting lost in Oblivion never sounded so sweet.

Lago // Vigil [May 8th, 2026 – Everlasting Spew Records]

Vigil introduced me to Lago and their infectiously abrasive death metal, and this album is forty-two minutes of unhinged brutality flecked with melody. The blood of Immolation, Morbid Angel, and Incantation pumps through Lago’s veins, delivering unapologetic tangles of dissonant, jangling guitars, fuming blast beats, and murky bass runs beneath Cole Jacobsen’s devilishly demented gutturals. Lago’s brew is potent stuff, swirling and churning with caustic acid that will leave your eardrums scarred and cowed with nary a moment wasted. Complimenting the devastating filth Lago dredges is Gus Barr’s warbling lead guitar, which cuts through the grime with off-kilter shredding. “Behold, Ruin” and “Initiation Rite” hit with the immediacy and aplomb of Immolation, lurching onwards with Brian Miller’s timekeeping straight out of Close to a World Below’s playbook. Meanwhile, “Procession into Slaughter” and “The Land Was a Desert” launch into Azagthoth-tinged, otherworldly riffs. Everything about Lago screams danger, yet once the blood starts flowing it’s impossible to turn away from their murderously addictive violence. Once Vigil has its hooks in you, you won’t want them to Lago.

Redshift // Down the Wire [May 29th, 2026 – Pale Wizard Records]

As a massive Rush fan, Redshift’s Down the Wire immediately caught my attention with ample parallels. A power trio wielding buttery smooth bass lines, Lifeson-leaning chords, and Tiago Martins’ tender tenor call to mind Canada’s greatest export for all the right reasons. Yet Bath, England’s Redshift is more than a Rush clone, and on Down the Wire they bounce and whip in syncopated flurries and chromatic runs while dabbling with vocoded vocals and deathly roars. As the best prog does, Redshift explores vast territory in a commensurately brief runtime. Opener “The Routine” hits the Rush influence hard and early, but “The Clown” draws upon Synchestra-era Devin Townsend kookiness while “The Rogue” dabbles in Yesified eclecticism and even features guest keys from Derek Sherinian (ex-Dream Theater, ex-Yngwie Malmsteen). One thing Redshift steers away from is the self-seriousness associated with a lot of prog, and Down the Wire radiates a pervasive sense of fun. Trumpets and samba-coded melodies enliven “The Rogue” while “The Singer” assaults with fierce growls, wicked solos, and perfectly balanced instrumental interplay. Down the Wire fires on all cylinders, scorching with progressive songwriting and so much replayability that I regret not getting the chance to write a review in full. If you’re Down to the Wire and need a prog fix quickly, Redshift is a clever choice that won’t disappoint.

Spicie Forrest’s Nostalgic Nugget

Haste the Day // Dissenter [May 1st, 2026 – Solid State Records]

I haven’t heard the name Haste the Day since 2008. At the time, I was on the tail end of my metalcore phase and pushing into heavier styles, so while I recognized their quality, I didn’t latch on to them as I did other acts of their ilk. It’s a shame, because Dissenter is the sound of my adolescence. Slinging the same emo-flavored metalcore as early As I Lay Dying and August Burns Red, the Indianapolis-based six-piece offers 39 minutes of beautifully aching nostalgia. Stephen Keech’s lead vocals sound pushed and strained (complimentary), evoking the emotion of early Linkin Park (“Shallows,” “Grave”). Guitarists Scott Whelan, Brennan Chaulk, and Dave Krysl are so in sync, delivering stellar layered riffs and leads felt in the soul (“Burn”). When Michael Murphy’s bass comes to the fore, as on “Liminal,” he brings a heaviness and intensity that hurtles me back to middle school like it was just yesterday. Dissenter is a bit heavier and faster on the front end, but even the not-quite-overwrought power ballads of the back half maintain their drive and pacing thanks to Giuseppe Capolupo’s kit work (“Adrift,” “Escape”). For those of us who cut our teeth on acts like Haste the Day, late-career and comeback albums can be an anxious affair, but I’m happy to report that Dissenter is a worthy walk down memory lane.

Towards the tail end of last year, a humble group from the UK called Asira shook up my top ten list. Little did I suspect that I would hear from some of these fine musicians again so soon. Five out of the six members of the blackgaze band Cairiss contributed in some way to As Ink in Water, and now they break a decade-long silence since debut album Fall. Wilderness seeks to express and overcome personal trauma and suffering while also validating those of its audience who are waging their own solitary or unseen battles. As such, this work of art transcends sole beauty or entertainment value to extend an invitation to process and heal in whatever way may be personally needed.

Wilderness is both a continuation and amplification of the potential teased on Fall. Cairiss remains rooted at the intersection of the gossamer elegance of Sylvaine and the blackened anguish of Unreqvited. This is an uncommon type of blackgaze that successfully flits between grandiose and intimate. Freya Brown, who previously handled all vocals, is now devoted primarily to those of the harsh variety.1 Her hard work paid off—her snarls and screams are much sharper, more expressive, and more dynamic all-around. Newcomer Lydia Williams takes charge of the clean singing with similarly breathtaking results. Additionally, the instrumental melodies are more poignant; hints of Asira’s and Opeth’s soulful, progressive guitarwork can be found throughout Wilderness (“The Guide,” “Dissociate”).

In my review of As Ink in Water, I noted that Asira showed a mastery of contrast, and this is even more true of Cairiss. It’s particularly evident every time the different vocalists overlap. When Lydia’s operatic singing crests into view in “The Guide” and interlaces with Freya’s fierce growls, the effect is chill-inducing. On the mellower side, “Integrate” brings Martin Williams’ voice to the forefront for the first and only time on Wilderness as he and Lydia harmonize into a blissful siren song. But perhaps no song encapsulates Cairiss’ wondrously dichotomous nature more than album closer ‘Wildfire.” It sounds like Freya poured every ounce of feeling she possessed into each syllable of her screams, which are periodically assuaged by soothing singing and an emotive guitar solo. I’m impressed by how well Cairiss can bring together such opposing elements without one ever overwhelming the other.

Wilderness is also well-balanced in other ways. This is a carefully constructed album wherein every moment serves a purpose. None of the songs ever stall or dissolve into aimlessness. Crescendos and climaxes arrive and depart in a smooth, natural flow (“Retrace,” “The Guide,” “Dissociate”), facilitated in large part by Connor Frapwell’s percussion. He excels at building and releasing dramatic tension, evoking the ebb and flow of a thunderstorm in “Retrace” and helping the extended intro of “Nervosa” feel much shorter than it is. The total runtime is a sensible 43 minutes, suggesting a good deal of self-editing, and I’m left wanting more as the final howl in “Wildfire” dies. If I have any complaints about Wilderness, it’s that I wish that the bass lines were a bit more prominent.

Time does not heal all wounds. Some must be confronted head-on, and that is what Cairiss does heartwrenchingly and unequivocally. While I wish that it had not needed to be born from a place of such anguish, Wilderness is one of the most authentic and cathartic pieces of music I’ve heard this year so far. Cairiss has leveled up considerably in the last ten years, each member’s individual strengths shining brightly in a musical subgenre where contrast is intrinsic. Fans of blackgaze—or the beautiful sides of metal in general—should heed the beckoning to venture off the beaten path into the Wilderness.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 192 kbps mp3
Label: Self-Release
Websites: cairiss.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/Cairiss
Releases Worldwide: July 31st, 2026

Towards the tail end of last year, a humble group from the UK called Asira shook up my top ten list. Little did I suspect that I would hear from some of these fine musicians again so soon. Five out of the six members of the blackgaze band Cairiss contributed in some way to As Ink in Water, and now they break a decade-long silence since debut album Fall. Wilderness seeks to express and overcome personal trauma and suffering while also validating those of its audience who are waging their own solitary or unseen battles. As such, this work of art transcends sole beauty or entertainment value to extend an invitation to process and heal in whatever way may be personally needed.

Wilderness is both a continuation and amplification of the potential teased on Fall. Cairiss remains rooted at the intersection of the gossamer elegance of Sylvaine and the blackened anguish of Unreqvited. This is an uncommon type of blackgaze that successfully flits between grandiose and intimate. Freya Brown, who previously handled all vocals, is now devoted primarily to those of the harsh variety.1 Her hard work paid off—her snarls and screams are much sharper, more expressive, and more dynamic all-around. Newcomer Lydia Williams takes charge of the clean singing with similarly breathtaking results. Additionally, the instrumental melodies are more poignant; hints of Asira’s and Opeth’s soulful, progressive guitarwork can be found throughout Wilderness (“The Guide,” “Dissociate”).

In my review of As Ink in Water, I noted that Asira showed a mastery of contrast, and this is even more true of Cairiss. It’s particularly evident every time the different vocalists overlap. When Lydia’s operatic singing crests into view in “The Guide” and interlaces with Freya’s fierce growls, the effect is chill-inducing. On the mellower side, “Integrate” brings Martin Williams’ voice to the forefront for the first and only time on Wilderness as he and Lydia harmonize into a blissful siren song. But perhaps no song encapsulates Cairiss’ wondrously dichotomous nature more than album closer ‘Wildfire.” It sounds like Freya poured every ounce of feeling she possessed into each syllable of her screams, which are periodically assuaged by soothing singing and an emotive guitar solo. I’m impressed by how well Cairiss can bring together such opposing elements without one ever overwhelming the other.

Wilderness is also well-balanced in other ways. This is a carefully constructed album wherein every moment serves a purpose. None of the songs ever stall or dissolve into aimlessness. Crescendos and climaxes arrive and depart in a smooth, natural flow (“Retrace,” “The Guide,” “Dissociate”), facilitated in large part by Connor Frapwell’s percussion. He excels at building and releasing dramatic tension, evoking the ebb and flow of a thunderstorm in “Retrace” and helping the extended intro of “Nervosa” feel much shorter than it is. The total runtime is a sensible 43 minutes, suggesting a good deal of self-editing, and I’m left wanting more as the final howl in “Wildfire” dies. If I have any complaints about Wilderness, it’s that I wish that the bass lines were a bit more prominent.

Time does not heal all wounds. Some must be confronted head-on, and that is what Cairiss does heartwrenchingly and unequivocally. While I wish that it had not needed to be born from a place of such anguish, Wilderness is one of the most authentic and cathartic pieces of music I’ve heard this year so far. Cairiss has leveled up considerably in the last ten years, each member’s individual strengths shining brightly in a musical subgenre where contrast is intrinsic. Fans of blackgaze—or the beautiful sides of metal in general—should heed the beckoning to venture off the beaten path into the Wilderness.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 192 kbps mp3
Label: Self-Release
Websites: cairiss.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/Cairiss
Releases Worldwide: July 31st, 2026

Saw a jazz band last Thursday. They were great but kinda loud.

#Opeth #DeathMetal #Metal

Saw a jazz band last Thursday. They were great but kinda loud.

#Opeth #DeathMetal #Metal

This week's MoshCast features a special guest: Jon Barbas from Heavy Metal Philosophy

#metalpodcasts #existentialism #Metallica #opeth #thehu

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IfDfLi-Qmc8

This week's MoshCast features a special guest: Jon Barbas from Heavy Metal Philosophy

#metalpodcasts #existentialism #Metallica #opeth #thehu

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IfDfLi-Qmc8

Checked out a track or two of whatever Opeth have been doing lately and had to revisit some older stuff to see if I was being overly harsh or what.

Wound up banging along to the absolutely godly riffs and compositions of old. Will try the newish stuff again later but...

#metal #Opeth

cc @troberts for whatever reason

Checked out a track or two of whatever Opeth have been doing lately and had to revisit some older stuff to see if I was being overly harsh or what.

Wound up banging along to the absolutely godly riffs and compositions of old. Will try the newish stuff again later but...

#metal #Opeth

cc @troberts for whatever reason

Wills Dissolve – The Heavens Are Not On Fire...
#BlackMetal #Metal #Opeth #PostBlackMetal #atmosphericblackmetal #deathdoom #doommetal #novembersdoom #postrock #Amadora
CC BY-NC (#CreativeCommons Attribution Non Commercial) #ccmusic
https://hypnoticdirgerecords.bandcamp.com/album/the-heavens-are-not-on-fire

Wills Dissolve – The Heavens Are Not On Fire...
#BlackMetal #Metal #Opeth #PostBlackMetal #atmosphericblackmetal #deathdoom #doommetal #novembersdoom #postrock #Amadora
CC BY-NC (#CreativeCommons Attribution Non Commercial) #ccmusic
https://hypnoticdirgerecords.bandcamp.com/album/the-heavens-are-not-on-fire

Vinilo nuevo.

In Cauda Venenum - English version (Connoisseur edition) de #Opeth

When one pictures Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, post-metal is probably not among the imagery that readily springs to mind. But the more I think about it, the more the birthplace of Loneshore makes sense. Just as post-metal is often defined by striking contrasts, so is Rio, a city where mountains and beaches coexist alongside favelas and wealthy communities. This diversity is mirrored in Loneshore’s sophomore record, Nothing Left to Deconstruct, which arrives nearly eight years after their 2018 debut, From Presence to Silence. How have the members of Loneshore matured as musicians during this time?

It turns out that Loneshore wasn’t always primarily a post-metal group. From Presence to Silence blended somber, doomy melodeath similar to Eternal Storm with Opethian melodies. Nothing Left to Deconstruct, however, squarely straddles the line between post-metal and Explosions in the Sky-esque post-rock, while adopting Amenra’s silvery-smooth buildups and releases. Loneshore retains some progressive metal, although this time it’s closer to The Ocean, especially during some of the clean-sung passages in “To Stride the Black Earth.” In fact, Luiz Felipe Netto’s clean and harsh vocal styles both cover a wide array of registers. Nothing Left to Deconstruct is no less lush from an instrumental perspective, making it an enjoyable listen from front to back.

Nothing Left to Deconstruct flows like a river, though don’t expect many whitewater rapids. Intro track “Self Oscillations” is like a gentle tributary, its dreamy vocal harmonies, mild guitar notes, and mesmerizing tom drum percussion rolling fluidly into “Straylight.” Loneshore makes good use of three guitarists and a bassist by overlapping their lines together sumptuously (“Parhelion,” “Of Lost Waters”). The 10-minute centerpiece “Birth of a Mountain” features a laid-back recurring melody that rises and falls like a sea of sand dunes. That said, there are sometimes surges of vehemence in the form of blackened snarls and forceful riffs (“Straylight,” “To Stride the Black Earth,” “Parhelion”). Because Loneshore doesn’t overly favor hooks or heaviness, Nothing Left to Deconstruct is a bit of a slow burn, requiring a few complete spins to sink in for me.

As relaxing as Nothing Left to Deconstruct is overall, most of its individual songs last longer than their contents can support. The majority hover around the 8-minute mark, and all of these have lengthy outros that don’t add much. “Of Lost Waters” begins with a pristine and serene post-rock tune, which is diminished by the minute-and-a-half meandering conclusion of “Birth of a Mountain” that came before. Likewise, concluding track “With Nothing We Part” is the most languid and least memorable despite a momentary injection of vitality at the halfway point. On the other hand, “To Stride the Black Earth” is the punchiest and has no noticeable fluff. While the total runtime sits at a fairly reasonable 52 minutes, there is a stronger 40 to 45-minute record lurking within.

It’s not uncommon for artists’ priorities to shift during a lengthy absence; in this case, Loneshore is the better for it. The post/prog metal hybrid Nothing Left to Deconstruct passes by like a pleasant ocean breeze in Rio de Janeiro. It took some time for me to fully appreciate it, but I’m glad I did. The main deficiencies holding back Nothing Left to Deconstruct are a lack of decisive conclusions and a bit of bloat. Nevertheless, if Loneshore continues to develop in this manner, I anticipate great things from album number three.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Willowtip Records
Websites: loneshore.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/Loneshore
Releases Worldwide: June 19th, 2026

When one pictures Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, post-metal is probably not among the imagery that readily springs to mind. But the more I think about it, the more the birthplace of Loneshore makes sense. Just as post-metal is often defined by striking contrasts, so is Rio, a city where mountains and beaches coexist alongside favelas and wealthy communities. This diversity is mirrored in Loneshore’s sophomore record, Nothing Left to Deconstruct, which arrives nearly eight years after their 2018 debut, From Presence to Silence. How have the members of Loneshore matured as musicians during this time?

It turns out that Loneshore wasn’t always primarily a post-metal group. From Presence to Silence blended somber, doomy melodeath similar to Eternal Storm with Opethian melodies. Nothing Left to Deconstruct, however, squarely straddles the line between post-metal and Explosions in the Sky-esque post-rock, while adopting Amenra’s silvery-smooth buildups and releases. Loneshore retains some progressive metal, although this time it’s closer to The Ocean, especially during some of the clean-sung passages in “To Stride the Black Earth.” In fact, Luiz Felipe Netto’s clean and harsh vocal styles both cover a wide array of registers. Nothing Left to Deconstruct is no less lush from an instrumental perspective, making it an enjoyable listen from front to back.

Nothing Left to Deconstruct flows like a river, though don’t expect many whitewater rapids. Intro track “Self Oscillations” is like a gentle tributary, its dreamy vocal harmonies, mild guitar notes, and mesmerizing tom drum percussion rolling fluidly into “Straylight.” Loneshore makes good use of three guitarists and a bassist by overlapping their lines together sumptuously (“Parhelion,” “Of Lost Waters”). The 10-minute centerpiece “Birth of a Mountain” features a laid-back recurring melody that rises and falls like a sea of sand dunes. That said, there are sometimes surges of vehemence in the form of blackened snarls and forceful riffs (“Straylight,” “To Stride the Black Earth,” “Parhelion”). Because Loneshore doesn’t overly favor hooks or heaviness, Nothing Left to Deconstruct is a bit of a slow burn, requiring a few complete spins to sink in for me.

As relaxing as Nothing Left to Deconstruct is overall, most of its individual songs last longer than their contents can support. The majority hover around the 8-minute mark, and all of these have lengthy outros that don’t add much. “Of Lost Waters” begins with a pristine and serene post-rock tune, which is diminished by the minute-and-a-half meandering conclusion of “Birth of a Mountain” that came before. Likewise, concluding track “With Nothing We Part” is the most languid and least memorable despite a momentary injection of vitality at the halfway point. On the other hand, “To Stride the Black Earth” is the punchiest and has no noticeable fluff. While the total runtime sits at a fairly reasonable 52 minutes, there is a stronger 40 to 45-minute record lurking within.

It’s not uncommon for artists’ priorities to shift during a lengthy absence; in this case, Loneshore is the better for it. The post/prog metal hybrid Nothing Left to Deconstruct passes by like a pleasant ocean breeze in Rio de Janeiro. It took some time for me to fully appreciate it, but I’m glad I did. The main deficiencies holding back Nothing Left to Deconstruct are a lack of decisive conclusions and a bit of bloat. Nevertheless, if Loneshore continues to develop in this manner, I anticipate great things from album number three.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Willowtip Records
Websites: loneshore.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/Loneshore
Releases Worldwide: June 19th, 2026

Now—as summer blasts the Earth into a fly-ridden heath—is when I long most for fall. So I get why Patrik Andersson Winberg’s (Dun Ringill, Doomdogs) new solo project Mirror of My Soul would debut this June with October Is Rising.1 A folk project empowered with hard rock muscle and gothic gravitas, Mirror of My Soul aims for atmospheric storytelling and organic song structuring. Joined by drummers Pete Campbell (Axe Dragger, ex-Pentagram) and Tobbe Strandvik, keyboardist Per Wiberg (Tiamat, ex-Opeth), guitarist Patric Grammann (Dun Ringill) and a whole host of vocalists,2 October Is Rising is poised to be an introspective, moody, and engrossing trek through rustic moods and colder temps. But is this album autumn’s light at the end of the tunnel, or is there no relief from summer to be found here?

October Is Rising is a clinic on complementary musicianship. Working within gothic country, folk, and blues rock, October Is Rising lives in slow, sparse compositions that won’t wow listeners with panache. Songs like “A Good Day to Die” and “The Owl” use simple guitar and banjo parts, respectively, to set the stage for spirited vocal performances, while “October Is Rising” and “Grandpa” utilize particularly minimal instrumentation to highlight their singers’ stories. Mirror of My Soul can rip it when necessary, as heard on the Jethro Tullesque flute riffing on “Mina Fotavtryck” and the slick hi-hat work on “Dancing Slowly on the Porch,” but October Is Rising’s musical prowess lies less in individual performance and more in band dynamics. “Lost in the Red Wine” and “The One Who Sings the Songs” pulse in ways that sneakily build and bounce off their individual parts to sound a lot bigger than their thin instrumentation would imply. Mirror of My Soul is composed of industry veterans, and it sounds like it; these guys bring out the best in each other.

Setting rich moods and storytelling are Mirror of My Soul’s game. They’re pros at it. October Is Rising is a pensive autumnal stroll through gloom with the sort of eerie coziness that at varying times reminded me of Fields of the Nephilim, Current 93, and the Over the Garden Wall soundtrack.3 Soundscapes of pale light and fresh darkness bestow tracks like “The Painter,” “Grandpa,” and “Tree on that Hill” a deeply affecting and melancholic quality, shaped by the aforementioned stark instrumentation and poignant vocals. October Is Rising is littered with pathos-imbued bars delivered with conviction, where phrases as obtuse as “The bad news was a feather from a dead bird” (“The Letter”) hit with the sensitivity of straightforward heart-wrenchers like “The trees showed me how to make it all last. There is no future without a vivid past” (“Tree on that Hill”). Mirror of My Soul bring everything you’d want from a singer-songwriter project musically: bittersweet strolls down memory lane, deep into introspection.

October Is Rising listens like a work of singular vision, but not of one voice. There are no bad singers on October Is Rising, mind you, and the diverse cast can be a boon. There aren’t many records out there that can, in one moment, recall Alice in Chains (“Coyote”) and Peter Gabriel the next (“Tree on that Hill”),4 Lou Reed one minute (“Carry Your Soul”) and Johnny Cash another (“A Good Day to Die”). But this committee approach also deprives October Is Rising of singer-songwriter music’s strongest aspect: the intimate conversation between artist and audience. It’s hard to think of Mirror of My Soul as Winberg’s personal exploration of a gloaming Earth when you have to adjust to a new singer every song. October Is Rising still feels cohesive thanks to Winberg’s consistent and compelling songwriting, but I believe one or two good singers would’ve made the record connect that much better.

Mirror of My Soul bring the wistfulness of autumn on October Is Rising. Tight musicianship and smart songwriting carry the listener through Winberg’s stories, sometimes outlandish and always engaging. Though I think one singer would’ve made Mirror of My Soul a more focused entity—or perhaps one singer across every song à la Tobias Sammet of Avantastia—October Is Rising is nevertheless a greatly enjoyable work that I could confidently recommend to anyone interested in gothic rock/country/folk. At the very least, when the upcoming months get hot as balls, it’ll be a good reminder that, in the near future, October Is Rising indeed.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: WAV
Label: Majestic Mountain Records
Websites: mirrorofmysoul.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/mirrorofmysoul
Releases Worldwide: June 12, 2026

Now—as summer blasts the Earth into a fly-ridden heath—is when I long most for fall. So I get why Patrik Andersson Winberg’s (Dun Ringill, Doomdogs) new solo project Mirror of My Soul would debut this June with October Is Rising.1 A folk project empowered with hard rock muscle and gothic gravitas, Mirror of My Soul aims for atmospheric storytelling and organic song structuring. Joined by drummers Pete Campbell (Axe Dragger, ex-Pentagram) and Tobbe Strandvik, keyboardist Per Wiberg (Tiamat, ex-Opeth), guitarist Patric Grammann (Dun Ringill) and a whole host of vocalists,2 October Is Rising is poised to be an introspective, moody, and engrossing trek through rustic moods and colder temps. But is this album autumn’s light at the end of the tunnel, or is there no relief from summer to be found here?

October Is Rising is a clinic on complementary musicianship. Working within gothic country, folk, and blues rock, October Is Rising lives in slow, sparse compositions that won’t wow listeners with panache. Songs like “A Good Day to Die” and “The Owl” use simple guitar and banjo parts, respectively, to set the stage for spirited vocal performances, while “October Is Rising” and “Grandpa” utilize particularly minimal instrumentation to highlight their singers’ stories. Mirror of My Soul can rip it when necessary, as heard on the Jethro Tullesque flute riffing on “Mina Fotavtryck” and the slick hi-hat work on “Dancing Slowly on the Porch,” but October Is Rising’s musical prowess lies less in individual performance and more in band dynamics. “Lost in the Red Wine” and “The One Who Sings the Songs” pulse in ways that sneakily build and bounce off their individual parts to sound a lot bigger than their thin instrumentation would imply. Mirror of My Soul is composed of industry veterans, and it sounds like it; these guys bring out the best in each other.

Setting rich moods and storytelling are Mirror of My Soul’s game. They’re pros at it. October Is Rising is a pensive autumnal stroll through gloom with the sort of eerie coziness that at varying times reminded me of Fields of the Nephilim, Current 93, and the Over the Garden Wall soundtrack.3 Soundscapes of pale light and fresh darkness bestow tracks like “The Painter,” “Grandpa,” and “Tree on that Hill” a deeply affecting and melancholic quality, shaped by the aforementioned stark instrumentation and poignant vocals. October Is Rising is littered with pathos-imbued bars delivered with conviction, where phrases as obtuse as “The bad news was a feather from a dead bird” (“The Letter”) hit with the sensitivity of straightforward heart-wrenchers like “The trees showed me how to make it all last. There is no future without a vivid past” (“Tree on that Hill”). Mirror of My Soul bring everything you’d want from a singer-songwriter project musically: bittersweet strolls down memory lane, deep into introspection.

October Is Rising listens like a work of singular vision, but not of one voice. There are no bad singers on October Is Rising, mind you, and the diverse cast can be a boon. There aren’t many records out there that can, in one moment, recall Alice in Chains (“Coyote”) and Peter Gabriel the next (“Tree on that Hill”),4 Lou Reed one minute (“Carry Your Soul”) and Johnny Cash another (“A Good Day to Die”). But this committee approach also deprives October Is Rising of singer-songwriter music’s strongest aspect: the intimate conversation between artist and audience. It’s hard to think of Mirror of My Soul as Winberg’s personal exploration of a gloaming Earth when you have to adjust to a new singer every song. October Is Rising still feels cohesive thanks to Winberg’s consistent and compelling songwriting, but I believe one or two good singers would’ve made the record connect that much better.

Mirror of My Soul bring the wistfulness of autumn on October Is Rising. Tight musicianship and smart songwriting carry the listener through Winberg’s stories, sometimes outlandish and always engaging. Though I think one singer would’ve made Mirror of My Soul a more focused entity—or perhaps one singer across every song à la Tobias Sammet of Avantastia—October Is Rising is nevertheless a greatly enjoyable work that I could confidently recommend to anyone interested in gothic rock/country/folk. At the very least, when the upcoming months get hot as balls, it’ll be a good reminder that, in the near future, October Is Rising indeed.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: WAV
Label: Majestic Mountain Records
Websites: mirrorofmysoul.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/mirrorofmysoul
Releases Worldwide: June 12, 2026

 Horarios Zlive 2026 que activa Metal Town en Zamora con el 90% del aforo liquidado
Info en 👉  https://www.guitarcalavera.com/horarios-zlive-2026/
#BlazeBayley #BuryTomorrow #Emperor #Epica #H.E.A.T. #Opeth #S.A. #Saxon #Tesseract #ZLiveRockFest #guitarcalavera #guitarcalaveramagazine
https://www.guitarcalavera.com/horarios-zlive-2026/?utm_medium=Guitar%20Calavera%20&fsp_sid=3645&utm_source=Mastodon%20&utm_campaign=horarios-zlive-2026%20

The philosophical quandary of innovation vs consistency rages on. For every Opeth or Blut Aus Nord, who only know how to move forward, you get the Nile’s and Internal Bleeding’s, who believe in doing their thing again, but hopefully bigger and better than the last time.1 Formerly a two-man project turned solo-project Desecresy has toiled away in the catacombs of Finland since 2009. Spearheaded by founding member Tommi Grönqvist, sole instrumentalist who also took up vocals on The Mortal Horizon onward, this outfit has offered an unflinchingly gloomy, chug-heavy breed of doomy death metal. The Secret of Death is the gentleman’s ninth offering, and if you came here expecting radical innovation, you didn’t read the genre description correctly.

In the spirit of much great Finnish death, the name of the game is atmosphere. Much of the Desecresy blueprint sounds like the long-lost offspring of Rippikoulu, with a heavy emphasis on thunderous chugs and vocals emanating somewhere from below the Earth’s crust. While the drumming has plenty of BPM shifts, the chug-centric focus gives the illusion of The Secret of Death never quite escaping being a mid-tempo offering, which might thrill some and disappoint others. Actual moments of contrast appear for aid, peppering “By Slowing the Vortex of Time” and complimenting the expected belligerence in “Ancient Timbre of Demise.” The occasional spooky synths appear to help divide movements (“Crypthymn”, “Vanishing Existence”) and emphasize a transitional flow of ideas, though much like death itself, all roads lead to the same destination.

Not all those roads come with the same scenic route, however. There are two flourishes to elevate this particular Secret, and I’m sure you noticed at least one as soon as you hit the embed. This album sounds like it was produced by Mortician in the best possible way, with the organic drums mixed with such stone-age glee that the bass kicks boom across every forest cleaving downbeat section. Tommi’s vocals transcend “guttural” into tectonic-plate-altering vibrations reminiscent of Putrevore, but less moist and far more menacing and impenetrable. The second flourish is a real penchant for leads that straddle the line of both spooky and catchy, with a tone crystalline and bright but with melodies of doom and horror. Sprinkled across the album, they give a reprieve from the crypt excavating, grave violating assaults with horrific beauty (“Ancient Timbre of Demise”, “Gorge of the Dead”) without ruining the carefully crafted atmospheric theatrics within.

While The Secret of Death wields its toolkit well enough that one can’t quite call it homogeneous, it should be admitted that not every cut carries the same degree of ferment in the offal discharge. “Ancient Timbre…” and “Summoned With Necrolunar Telepathy” feature intros that are too similar to each other in approach, and “Summoned…” flirts with a Bolt Thrower vision but rides an empty lead far too many times to maintain its impact. Other than the closing power of “Vanishing Existence”, the leads can’t compete with the heights of memorability set by “Gorge of the Dead”. And yet, these quibbles are hardly deal breakers, as the relatively succinct 42-minute runtime allows Desecresy to avoid outstaying their welcome; an important trait, given the sheer bleakness on display. Additionally, alternating the traditional slow, doomed-out prolonged note stylings in some leads with melodic interpositions carrying more speed and virtuosity makes for excellent distinction when they appear, successfully keeping the listener’s attention.

To the surprise of what I hope is no one in particular, Desecresy have landed firmly on the “consistency” side of the deathly spectrum. A lovely hodgepodge of chunky soup with Finnish entrails and an unusual take on the Mortician broth has given The Secret of Death a good identity while lacking anything approaching the realm of surprise. A few more cuts featuring the quality of the bookending tracks could have the caliber to assemble a real worm-infested monstrosity, and I’ll certainly be keeping an eye out for them in the future. For now, we can all use more death in our lives, and if you’re on the prowl, I’ve got a Secret I’d like to share with you…

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Xtreem Music
Website: Album Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: May 21st, 2026

The philosophical quandary of innovation vs consistency rages on. For every Opeth or Blut Aus Nord, who only know how to move forward, you get the Nile’s and Internal Bleeding’s, who believe in doing their thing again, but hopefully bigger and better than the last time.1 Formerly a two-man project turned solo-project Desecresy has toiled away in the catacombs of Finland since 2009. Spearheaded by founding member Tommi Grönqvist, sole instrumentalist who also took up vocals on The Mortal Horizon onward, this outfit has offered an unflinchingly gloomy, chug-heavy breed of doomy death metal. The Secret of Death is the gentleman’s ninth offering, and if you came here expecting radical innovation, you didn’t read the genre description correctly.

In the spirit of much great Finnish death, the name of the game is atmosphere. Much of the Desecresy blueprint sounds like the long-lost offspring of Rippikoulu, with a heavy emphasis on thunderous chugs and vocals emanating somewhere from below the Earth’s crust. While the drumming has plenty of BPM shifts, the chug-centric focus gives the illusion of The Secret of Death never quite escaping being a mid-tempo offering, which might thrill some and disappoint others. Actual moments of contrast appear for aid, peppering “By Slowing the Vortex of Time” and complimenting the expected belligerence in “Ancient Timbre of Demise.” The occasional spooky synths appear to help divide movements (“Crypthymn”, “Vanishing Existence”) and emphasize a transitional flow of ideas, though much like death itself, all roads lead to the same destination.

Not all those roads come with the same scenic route, however. There are two flourishes to elevate this particular Secret, and I’m sure you noticed at least one as soon as you hit the embed. This album sounds like it was produced by Mortician in the best possible way, with the organic drums mixed with such stone-age glee that the bass kicks boom across every forest cleaving downbeat section. Tommi’s vocals transcend “guttural” into tectonic-plate-altering vibrations reminiscent of Putrevore, but less moist and far more menacing and impenetrable. The second flourish is a real penchant for leads that straddle the line of both spooky and catchy, with a tone crystalline and bright but with melodies of doom and horror. Sprinkled across the album, they give a reprieve from the crypt excavating, grave violating assaults with horrific beauty (“Ancient Timbre of Demise”, “Gorge of the Dead”) without ruining the carefully crafted atmospheric theatrics within.

While The Secret of Death wields its toolkit well enough that one can’t quite call it homogeneous, it should be admitted that not every cut carries the same degree of ferment in the offal discharge. “Ancient Timbre…” and “Summoned With Necrolunar Telepathy” feature intros that are too similar to each other in approach, and “Summoned…” flirts with a Bolt Thrower vision but rides an empty lead far too many times to maintain its impact. Other than the closing power of “Vanishing Existence”, the leads can’t compete with the heights of memorability set by “Gorge of the Dead”. And yet, these quibbles are hardly deal breakers, as the relatively succinct 42-minute runtime allows Desecresy to avoid outstaying their welcome; an important trait, given the sheer bleakness on display. Additionally, alternating the traditional slow, doomed-out prolonged note stylings in some leads with melodic interpositions carrying more speed and virtuosity makes for excellent distinction when they appear, successfully keeping the listener’s attention.

To the surprise of what I hope is no one in particular, Desecresy have landed firmly on the “consistency” side of the deathly spectrum. A lovely hodgepodge of chunky soup with Finnish entrails and an unusual take on the Mortician broth has given The Secret of Death a good identity while lacking anything approaching the realm of surprise. A few more cuts featuring the quality of the bookending tracks could have the caliber to assemble a real worm-infested monstrosity, and I’ll certainly be keeping an eye out for them in the future. For now, we can all use more death in our lives, and if you’re on the prowl, I’ve got a Secret I’d like to share with you…

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Xtreem Music
Website: Album Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: May 21st, 2026

I love #Opeth because you'll be listening to a song for a while, and if your attention is split by something else, eventually you'll find yourself coming back and thinking "oh yeah, it's still this one."

Psyclops—Portland, Oregon’s progressive metal genre-benders—have some nerve coming my way. I know in my heart of hearts that in writing “their” new record, Bound to Burn: Melody of the Martyr, they committed psychic plagiarism against me and stole the progressive death metal concept album I outlined years ago. A sun-baked Earth struggling to survive? My set-up! A wanderer searching for hope and imbued with religious allusion? My protagonist! A chance encounter with a water deity that brings them to a wellspring of pure, untouched water? More or less my idea! Psyclops just cut out my cannibal gangs and digs against Elon Musk, the hacks. Admittedly, they commissioned a comic book to coincide with Bound to Burn, which I didn’t think of…but very well could’ve!1 I was just waiting to get good at music before recording it, you bastards!2 But in this egregious act of unmitigated gall, does Psyclops’ Bound to Burn rip me off effectively and enjoyably, at least?

Psyclops just make prog look easy on Bound to Burn: Melody of the Martyr. Taking a page from the Rush playbook, Psyclops play technically demanding and rhythmically dense progressive music in the vein of Between the Buried and Me and Opeth while keeping their songs mostly immediate and accessible. The three-song “Consequences” segue sees Psyclops bouncing between odd, frantic rhythms while sounding as natural as if it were all 4/4, while the “Manifest” trilogy showcases Bound to Burn’s most diverse guitarwork that dazzles without devolving into wankery. “Presence from Beyond” and “Clarity” see awkward vocal intervals and off-kilter riffing, respectively, that make for effortless earworms, and “Begin Anew”‘s guitar arpeggios sound symphonic in a very understated way while rocking out in an uncomplicated fashion. Further, Psyclops swing with some heft with juiced-up, low-end heavy riffing and punchy drums highlighted on the “Indomitable” segue and a crushing death vocal presence established in opener “The Explorer-Errant.” Heavy and catchy, technical and immediate, Bound to Burn is bound to please most any prog fan.

Psyclops’ knack for lean, diverse songwriting brings home the bacon. At thirty-three minutes, Bound to Burn has a story to tell and Psyclops hustle between movements and songs without wasting time on interludes or masturbatory noodling. Crystalline, clean, and plodding doom guitars on “The Explorer-Errant” give way to jagged, Xoth-like riffs and solos on “Consequences I. The Instinct to Survive,” while “Manifest I. Seeing Is Believing” opens the segue with Devin Townsend-like harmonies and progression, only to close out with “Manifest III. The Ouroboros Chorus”‘s Thank You Scientist swinging prog goofiness. The spirit of Mastodon haunts a lot of Bound to Burn as well, particularly in the moody, Crack the Skye-like trippiness of “Presence from Beyond” and the Emperor of Sandesque rock soloing closing out “Manifest II. Warranted Transgression.” Psyclops package all of these influences, moods, and approaches in a way that feels totally cohesive and trimmed of all excess. Bound to Burn is here for a good time, not a long one.

With Bound to Burn: Melody of the Martyr, Psyclops constructed the Anti-Playlist Album. Singled out, individual tracks on Bound to Burn don’t hold up, bearing truncated runtimes and rarely sounding whole alone. But taken altogether, Psyclop’s singular vision comes through. Bound to Burn establishes character motivation quickly and effectively with “The Explorer-Errant,” conflict soon after with “Consequences II” and “III,” and a call to action with “Clarity” that carries Bound to Burn’s plot smoothly right to the end. “Manifest III” and “Begin Anew” feel somewhat rushed in closing the album, and Psyclops could’ve spent more time in those songs to drive it home, but that’s Bound to Burn’s only pacing hiccup. Song transitions are completely seamless on Bound to Burn; with how natural every movement flows into the next, Psyclops could have designated the whole thing as one song, à la Crimson or Winter’s Gate. Simply, Bound to Burn cannot be appreciated or enjoyed fully without being taken in as a whole, and Psyclops facilitates that fact with perfect narrative flow and sequencing.

Psyclops are on my ever-expanding shit list, not because they stole my album but because they did it better than me. Way better. Bound to Burn: Melody of the Martyr is an adventurous, refreshing, and forward-thinking work of music and fiction sure to please prog fans of every stripe. Psyclops hit quick, hit hard, and left me wanting more in the end. Bound to Burn isn’t perfect, but there’s very little to complain about either. But the sequel better have some cannibal gangs.3

Rating: Great
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: WAV
Label: Self-Release
Websites: psyclopsmusic.com | psyclopspdx.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/psyclopspdx
Releases Worldwide: May 22nd, 2026

Psyclops—Portland, Oregon’s progressive metal genre-benders—have some nerve coming my way. I know in my heart of hearts that in writing “their” new record, Bound to Burn: Melody of the Martyr, they committed psychic plagiarism against me and stole the progressive death metal concept album I outlined years ago. A sun-baked Earth struggling to survive? My set-up! A wanderer searching for hope and imbued with religious allusion? My protagonist! A chance encounter with a water deity that brings them to a wellspring of pure, untouched water? More or less my idea! Psyclops just cut out my cannibal gangs and digs against Elon Musk, the hacks. Admittedly, they commissioned a comic book to coincide with Bound to Burn, which I didn’t think of…but very well could’ve!1 I was just waiting to get good at music before recording it, you bastards!2 But in this egregious act of unmitigated gall, does Psyclops’ Bound to Burn rip me off effectively and enjoyably, at least?

Psyclops just make prog look easy on Bound to Burn: Melody of the Martyr. Taking a page from the Rush playbook, Psyclops play technically demanding and rhythmically dense progressive music in the vein of Between the Buried and Me and Opeth while keeping their songs mostly immediate and accessible. The three-song “Consequences” segue sees Psyclops bouncing between odd, frantic rhythms while sounding as natural as if it were all 4/4, while the “Manifest” trilogy showcases Bound to Burn’s most diverse guitarwork that dazzles without devolving into wankery. “Presence from Beyond” and “Clarity” see awkward vocal intervals and off-kilter riffing, respectively, that make for effortless earworms, and “Begin Anew”‘s guitar arpeggios sound symphonic in a very understated way while rocking out in an uncomplicated fashion. Further, Psyclops swing with some heft with juiced-up, low-end heavy riffing and punchy drums highlighted on the “Indomitable” segue and a crushing death vocal presence established in opener “The Explorer-Errant.” Heavy and catchy, technical and immediate, Bound to Burn is bound to please most any prog fan.

Psyclops’ knack for lean, diverse songwriting brings home the bacon. At thirty-three minutes, Bound to Burn has a story to tell and Psyclops hustle between movements and songs without wasting time on interludes or masturbatory noodling. Crystalline, clean, and plodding doom guitars on “The Explorer-Errant” give way to jagged, Xoth-like riffs and solos on “Consequences I. The Instinct to Survive,” while “Manifest I. Seeing Is Believing” opens the segue with Devin Townsend-like harmonies and progression, only to close out with “Manifest III. The Ouroboros Chorus”‘s Thank You Scientist swinging prog goofiness. The spirit of Mastodon haunts a lot of Bound to Burn as well, particularly in the moody, Crack the Skye-like trippiness of “Presence from Beyond” and the Emperor of Sandesque rock soloing closing out “Manifest II. Warranted Transgression.” Psyclops package all of these influences, moods, and approaches in a way that feels totally cohesive and trimmed of all excess. Bound to Burn is here for a good time, not a long one.

With Bound to Burn: Melody of the Martyr, Psyclops constructed the Anti-Playlist Album. Singled out, individual tracks on Bound to Burn don’t hold up, bearing truncated runtimes and rarely sounding whole alone. But taken altogether, Psyclop’s singular vision comes through. Bound to Burn establishes character motivation quickly and effectively with “The Explorer-Errant,” conflict soon after with “Consequences II” and “III,” and a call to action with “Clarity” that carries Bound to Burn’s plot smoothly right to the end. “Manifest III” and “Begin Anew” feel somewhat rushed in closing the album, and Psyclops could’ve spent more time in those songs to drive it home, but that’s Bound to Burn’s only pacing hiccup. Song transitions are completely seamless on Bound to Burn; with how natural every movement flows into the next, Psyclops could have designated the whole thing as one song, à la Crimson or Winter’s Gate. Simply, Bound to Burn cannot be appreciated or enjoyed fully without being taken in as a whole, and Psyclops facilitates that fact with perfect narrative flow and sequencing.

Psyclops are on my ever-expanding shit list, not because they stole my album but because they did it better than me. Way better. Bound to Burn: Melody of the Martyr is an adventurous, refreshing, and forward-thinking work of music and fiction sure to please prog fans of every stripe. Psyclops hit quick, hit hard, and left me wanting more in the end. Bound to Burn isn’t perfect, but there’s very little to complain about either. But the sequel better have some cannibal gangs.3

Rating: Great
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: WAV
Label: Self-Release
Websites: psyclopsmusic.com | psyclopspdx.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/psyclopspdx
Releases Worldwide: May 22nd, 2026

Among shadows that whisper uncomfortable truths, the poison always finds its end in us. 🤘🏽🤘🏽🤘🏽🎸

Entre sombras que susurran verdades incómodas, el veneno siempre encuentra su final en nosotros. 🤘🏽🤘🏽🤘🏽🎸
#heavymetal #opeth #music #metal #vinyl

Among shadows that whisper uncomfortable truths, the poison always finds its end in us. 🤘🏽🤘🏽🤘🏽🎸

Entre sombras que susurran verdades incómodas, el veneno siempre encuentra su final en nosotros. 🤘🏽🤘🏽🤘🏽🎸
#heavymetal #opeth #music #metal #vinyl

Sempre he sigut una persona molt SorrowOpeth més que ProgOpeth, però estic tornant a escoltar el In Cauda Venenum en suec i damn. Aquest àlbum va duríssim, llàstima que les primeres vegades que el vaig escoltar no m'atrapés. Aconsegueix transmetre el mateix que els clàssics sense haver de recorre a guturals ni riffs súper bèsties. L'ús de la tècnica és mestrívola per a crear una atmosfera lleugera però a l'hora molt tètrica. Visca #opeth !

#progressive #metal #rock

It drowns the soul in a sea of ​​sinful redemption, where liberation laughs mockingly at the last gasp of light.🤘🏽🤘🏽🎸😈

Ahoga el alma en un mar de redención pecaminosa, donde la liberación ríe burlona ante el último estertor de luz 🤘🏽🤘🏽🤘🏽😈🎸
#heavymetal #opeth #music #metal #vinyl