#progressivedeathmetal — Public Fediverse posts

(PSYCHOPARALYSIS) (Finlàndia) presenta nou single: "Metacognitive Failure" #(psychoparalysis) #ProgressiveDeathMetal #Setembre2026 #Finlàndia #NouSingle #Metall #Metal #MúsicaMetal #MetalMusic

(PSYCHOPARALYSIS) (Finlàndia) presenta nou single: "Metacognitive Failure" #(psychoparalysis) #ProgressiveDeathMetal #Setembre2026 #Finlàndia #NouSingle #Metall #Metal #MúsicaMetal #MetalMusic

https://www.europesays.com/ie/700840/ Sea Sleeper – Burden of Antlers Review #20 #2026 #AmericanMetal #BurdenOfAntlers #DeathMetal #Dysgnostic #Éire #Entertainment #Gojira #IE #Ireland #Mastodon #Music #ProgressiveDeathMetal #ProgressiveMetal #Review #Reviews #SeaSleeper #SelfReleased #Sep26 #Veilburner

https://www.europesays.com/uk/1217329/ Sea Sleeper – Burden of Antlers Review #20 #2026 #AmericanMetal #BurdenOfAntlers #DeathMetal #Dysgnostic #Entertainment #Gojira #Mastodon #music #ProgressiveDeathMetal #ProgressiveMetal #Review #Reviews #SeaSleeper #SelfReleased #Sep26 #UK #UnitedKingdom #Veilburner

The good doctor, Seuss, that is, also considered the burden of antlers. In his signature rhyming voice, Dr. Seuss tells the story of a boy imagining himself with “deer horns.” He could wear more hats! He could hang school supplies from them! He’d be the star of the football team! Yet their burdensome nature soon became apparent. With unwieldy antlers, he could no longer ride the bus, and his mom couldn’t possibly let someone with deer horns live in her impeccably clean house. In the end, he learned to accept his own body for what it was.1 Portland, Oregon’s Sea Sleeper tell their own tale of a Burden of Antlers, and they convey their message in just about an anti-Seussian a way as possible. No easy morals or rhythmic storytelling here. Gardenstale found their debut, Nostophobia, underwhelming, with its laughable lyrics and lack of memorable hooks. Yet, the debut received high year-end accolades elsewhere and was a top seller on Bandcamp in 2021. Burden of Antlers sees a honing of their “mileage may vary” approach to songcrafting, for better or worse.

In contrast to the pleasing cadence of Dr. Seuss, Sea Sleeper play an impenetrably dense, harsh brand of progressive death metal. Zoom in from the forest to the trees and you’ll hear some psychedelic influences from Mastodon as well as Gojira-style harmonics and riffs. Distortion adds layers of density, creating a maelstrom of noise early on opener “Machines of the Bombing Runs.” Their goal, it seems to me at least, is to keep listeners uncomfortable and off-guard from start to finish, and they accomplish this with frequent tonal and tempo shifts, rarely allowing musical passages to develop into anything resembling melodicism. The lengthy “Manifestor” contains many such shifts. This song mixes high energy blast beats, melodic riffs, discordant riffs, a great bass bit, an awesome solo, and significant passages where the tempo slows to allow for some grungy cleans that are kind of catchy but also kind of bad. It’s an approach that’ll leave you breathless trying to figure out whether you like it or not.

Much as Sea Sleeper love the arrhythmic approach, they do reveal a knack for some melodic death, at least in small chunks. “Burden of Antlers” most memorably establishes these melodic hooks in a very cool opener and even has a catchy chorus, sung in Jesse Cooley’s warbly, off-key cleans. “They’ll Miss You” displays some early Mastodon-style riffs, and there are more sightings of melody later on “Abysmal Trench.” Yet these melodies disappear into a morass of noise before they have time to properly develop and worm their way into your brain. They’re just one ingredient among countless others in Sea Sleeper’s varied guitar diet. Where the melodic riffs quickly fade away, Sea Sleeper has no issue allowing slower segments with melodic cleans to linger. However, the enjoyment of these portions comes with an asterisk—Cooley’s off-pitch performance leaves one cringing rather than wanting to sing along.

Burden of Antlers utilizes harsh tones and loud production values to unnerve their listeners. Cooley growls in a pained rasp that’s discomforting, yet also admittedly effective. Combined with dissonant and constantly shifting riffs, Sea Sleeper nail a style of music that’s purposely meant to deliver pain rather than pleasure. Their quest to challenge is admirable, though I wish I had a better idea as to what, thematically, they’re attempting to accomplish. When the vocals are incomprehensible and the lyrics sheet is missing, it’s difficult to know exactly what I’m being made uncomfortable about. Yet the larger problem is the production, whose loudness negatively contributes to the cacophony. While the harshness delivers pain and discomfort in more interesting ways, the high volume is just unpleasant.

While I do tend to gravitate towards more melodic music, that’s not to say the dissonant stuff doesn’t work for me. Veilburner creates weird yet entertaining music, and this year’s Dysgnostic has made a strong impression. What these acts succeed at that Sea Sleeper misses is that they write focused, well-developed songs. It’s a frustration to hear the talent from these musicians marred by purposely obtuse music and poor production choices. Sprouting a pair of deer horns, for me, wouldn’t be a burden, but a boon so long as they protect my ears from the onslaught that is Burden of Antlers.

Rating: 2.0/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Self-Released
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: September 18th, 2026

Show 1 footnote

1. From I Wish that I Had Duck Feet, by Theo. LeSieg, Dr. Seuss’s pre-Seuss pseudonym. ↩

The good doctor, Seuss, that is, also considered the burden of antlers. In his signature rhyming voice, Dr. Seuss tells the story of a boy imagining himself with “deer horns.” He could wear more hats! He could hang school supplies from them! He’d be the star of the football team! Yet their burdensome nature soon became apparent. With unwieldy antlers, he could no longer ride the bus, and his mom couldn’t possibly let someone with deer horns live in her impeccably clean house. In the end, he learned to accept his own body for what it was.1 Portland, Oregon’s Sea Sleeper tell their own tale of a Burden of Antlers, and they convey their message in just about an anti-Seussian a way as possible. No easy morals or rhythmic storytelling here. Gardenstale found their debut, Nostophobia, underwhelming, with its laughable lyrics and lack of memorable hooks. Yet, the debut received high year-end accolades elsewhere and was a top seller on Bandcamp in 2021. Burden of Antlers sees a honing of their “mileage may vary” approach to songcrafting, for better or worse.

In contrast to the pleasing cadence of Dr. Seuss, Sea Sleeper play an impenetrably dense, harsh brand of progressive death metal. Zoom in from the forest to the trees and you’ll hear some psychedelic influences from Mastodon as well as Gojira-style harmonics and riffs. Distortion adds layers of density, creating a maelstrom of noise early on opener “Machines of the Bombing Runs.” Their goal, it seems to me at least, is to keep listeners uncomfortable and off-guard from start to finish, and they accomplish this with frequent tonal and tempo shifts, rarely allowing musical passages to develop into anything resembling melodicism. The lengthy “Manifestor” contains many such shifts. This song mixes high energy blast beats, melodic riffs, discordant riffs, a great bass bit, an awesome solo, and significant passages where the tempo slows to allow for some grungy cleans that are kind of catchy but also kind of bad. It’s an approach that’ll leave you breathless trying to figure out whether you like it or not.

Much as Sea Sleeper love the arrhythmic approach, they do reveal a knack for some melodic death, at least in small chunks. “Burden of Antlers” most memorably establishes these melodic hooks in a very cool opener and even has a catchy chorus, sung in Jesse Cooley’s warbly, off-key cleans. “They’ll Miss You” displays some early Mastodon-style riffs, and there are more sightings of melody later on “Abysmal Trench.” Yet these melodies disappear into a morass of noise before they have time to properly develop and worm their way into your brain. They’re just one ingredient among countless others in Sea Sleeper’s varied guitar diet. Where the melodic riffs quickly fade away, Sea Sleeper has no issue allowing slower segments with melodic cleans to linger. However, the enjoyment of these portions comes with an asterisk—Cooley’s off-pitch performance leaves one cringing rather than wanting to sing along.

Burden of Antlers utilizes harsh tones and loud production values to unnerve their listeners. Cooley growls in a pained rasp that’s discomforting, yet also admittedly effective. Combined with dissonant and constantly shifting riffs, Sea Sleeper nail a style of music that’s purposely meant to deliver pain rather than pleasure. Their quest to challenge is admirable, though I wish I had a better idea as to what, thematically, they’re attempting to accomplish. When the vocals are incomprehensible and the lyrics sheet is missing, it’s difficult to know exactly what I’m being made uncomfortable about. Yet the larger problem is the production, whose loudness negatively contributes to the cacophony. While the harshness delivers pain and discomfort in more interesting ways, the high volume is just unpleasant.

While I do tend to gravitate towards more melodic music, that’s not to say the dissonant stuff doesn’t work for me. Veilburner creates weird yet entertaining music, and this year’s Dysgnostic has made a strong impression. What these acts succeed at that Sea Sleeper misses is that they write focused, well-developed songs. It’s a frustration to hear the talent from these musicians marred by purposely obtuse music and poor production choices. Sprouting a pair of deer horns, for me, wouldn’t be a burden, but a boon so long as they protect my ears from the onslaught that is Burden of Antlers.

Rating: 2.0/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Self-Released
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: September 18th, 2026

The good doctor, Seuss, that is, also considered the burden of antlers. In his signature rhyming voice, Dr. Seuss tells the story of a boy imagining himself with “deer horns.” He could wear more hats! He could hang school supplies from them! He’d be the star of the football team! Yet their burdensome nature soon became apparent. With unwieldy antlers, he could no longer ride the bus, and his mom couldn’t possibly let someone with deer horns live in her impeccably clean house. In the end, he learned to accept his own body for what it was.1 Portland, Oregon’s Sea Sleeper tell their own tale of a Burden of Antlers, and they convey their message in just about an anti-Seussian a way as possible. No easy morals or rhythmic storytelling here. Gardenstale found their debut, Nostophobia, underwhelming, with its laughable lyrics and lack of memorable hooks. Yet, the debut received high year-end accolades elsewhere and was a top seller on Bandcamp in 2021. Burden of Antlers sees a honing of their “mileage may vary” approach to songcrafting, for better or worse.

In contrast to the pleasing cadence of Dr. Seuss, Sea Sleeper play an impenetrably dense, harsh brand of progressive death metal. Zoom in from the forest to the trees and you’ll hear some psychedelic influences from Mastodon as well as Gojira-style harmonics and riffs. Distortion adds layers of density, creating a maelstrom of noise early on opener “Machines of the Bombing Runs.” Their goal, it seems to me at least, is to keep listeners uncomfortable and off-guard from start to finish, and they accomplish this with frequent tonal and tempo shifts, rarely allowing musical passages to develop into anything resembling melodicism. The lengthy “Manifestor” contains many such shifts. This song mixes high energy blast beats, melodic riffs, discordant riffs, a great bass bit, an awesome solo, and significant passages where the tempo slows to allow for some grungy cleans that are kind of catchy but also kind of bad. It’s an approach that’ll leave you breathless trying to figure out whether you like it or not.

Much as Sea Sleeper love the arrhythmic approach, they do reveal a knack for some melodic death, at least in small chunks. “Burden of Antlers” most memorably establishes these melodic hooks in a very cool opener and even has a catchy chorus, sung in Jesse Cooley’s warbly, off-key cleans. “They’ll Miss You” displays some early Mastodon-style riffs, and there are more sightings of melody later on “Abysmal Trench.” Yet these melodies disappear into a morass of noise before they have time to properly develop and worm their way into your brain. They’re just one ingredient among countless others in Sea Sleeper’s varied guitar diet. Where the melodic riffs quickly fade away, Sea Sleeper has no issue allowing slower segments with melodic cleans to linger. However, the enjoyment of these portions comes with an asterisk—Cooley’s off-pitch performance leaves one cringing rather than wanting to sing along.

Burden of Antlers utilizes harsh tones and loud production values to unnerve their listeners. Cooley growls in a pained rasp that’s discomforting, yet also admittedly effective. Combined with dissonant and constantly shifting riffs, Sea Sleeper nail a style of music that’s purposely meant to deliver pain rather than pleasure. Their quest to challenge is admirable, though I wish I had a better idea as to what, thematically, they’re attempting to accomplish. When the vocals are incomprehensible and the lyrics sheet is missing, it’s difficult to know exactly what I’m being made uncomfortable about. Yet the larger problem is the production, whose loudness negatively contributes to the cacophony. While the harshness delivers pain and discomfort in more interesting ways, the high volume is just unpleasant.

While I do tend to gravitate towards more melodic music, that’s not to say the dissonant stuff doesn’t work for me. Veilburner creates weird yet entertaining music, and this year’s Dysgnostic has made a strong impression. What these acts succeed at that Sea Sleeper misses is that they write focused, well-developed songs. It’s a frustration to hear the talent from these musicians marred by purposely obtuse music and poor production choices. Sprouting a pair of deer horns, for me, wouldn’t be a burden, but a boon so long as they protect my ears from the onslaught that is Burden of Antlers.

Rating: 2.0/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Self-Released
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: September 18th, 2026

The good doctor, Seuss, that is, also considered the burden of antlers. In his signature rhyming voice, Dr. Seuss tells the story of a boy imagining himself with “deer horns.” He could wear more hats! He could hang school supplies from them! He’d be the star of the football team! Yet their burdensome nature soon became apparent. With unwieldy antlers, he could no longer ride the bus, and his mom couldn’t possibly let someone with deer horns live in her impeccably clean house. In the end, he learned to accept his own body for what it was.1 Portland, Oregon’s Sea Sleeper tell their own tale of a Burden of Antlers, and they convey their message in just about an anti-Seussian a way as possible. No easy morals or rhythmic storytelling here. Gardenstale found their debut, Nostophobia, underwhelming, with its laughable lyrics and lack of memorable hooks. Yet, the debut received high year-end accolades elsewhere and was a top seller on Bandcamp in 2021. Burden of Antlers sees a honing of their “mileage may vary” approach to songcrafting, for better or worse.

In contrast to the pleasing cadence of Dr. Seuss, Sea Sleeper play an impenetrably dense, harsh brand of progressive death metal. Zoom in from the forest to the trees and you’ll hear some psychedelic influences from Mastodon as well as Gojira-style harmonics and riffs. Distortion adds layers of density, creating a maelstrom of noise early on opener “Machines of the Bombing Runs.” Their goal, it seems to me at least, is to keep listeners uncomfortable and off-guard from start to finish, and they accomplish this with frequent tonal and tempo shifts, rarely allowing musical passages to develop into anything resembling melodicism. The lengthy “Manifestor” contains many such shifts. This song mixes high energy blast beats, melodic riffs, discordant riffs, a great bass bit, an awesome solo, and significant passages where the tempo slows to allow for some grungy cleans that are kind of catchy but also kind of bad. It’s an approach that’ll leave you breathless trying to figure out whether you like it or not.

Much as Sea Sleeper love the arrhythmic approach, they do reveal a knack for some melodic death, at least in small chunks. “Burden of Antlers” most memorably establishes these melodic hooks in a very cool opener and even has a catchy chorus, sung in Jesse Cooley’s warbly, off-key cleans. “They’ll Miss You” displays some early Mastodon-style riffs, and there are more sightings of melody later on “Abysmal Trench.” Yet these melodies disappear into a morass of noise before they have time to properly develop and worm their way into your brain. They’re just one ingredient among countless others in Sea Sleeper’s varied guitar diet. Where the melodic riffs quickly fade away, Sea Sleeper has no issue allowing slower segments with melodic cleans to linger. However, the enjoyment of these portions comes with an asterisk—Cooley’s off-pitch performance leaves one cringing rather than wanting to sing along.

Burden of Antlers utilizes harsh tones and loud production values to unnerve their listeners. Cooley growls in a pained rasp that’s discomforting, yet also admittedly effective. Combined with dissonant and constantly shifting riffs, Sea Sleeper nail a style of music that’s purposely meant to deliver pain rather than pleasure. Their quest to challenge is admirable, though I wish I had a better idea as to what, thematically, they’re attempting to accomplish. When the vocals are incomprehensible and the lyrics sheet is missing, it’s difficult to know exactly what I’m being made uncomfortable about. Yet the larger problem is the production, whose loudness negatively contributes to the cacophony. While the harshness delivers pain and discomfort in more interesting ways, the high volume is just unpleasant.

While I do tend to gravitate towards more melodic music, that’s not to say the dissonant stuff doesn’t work for me. Veilburner creates weird yet entertaining music, and this year’s Dysgnostic has made a strong impression. What these acts succeed at that Sea Sleeper misses is that they write focused, well-developed songs. It’s a frustration to hear the talent from these musicians marred by purposely obtuse music and poor production choices. Sprouting a pair of deer horns, for me, wouldn’t be a burden, but a boon so long as they protect my ears from the onslaught that is Burden of Antlers.

Rating: 2.0/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Self-Released
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: September 18th, 2026

Between reckless grooves, shimmering leads, and Byzantine riffs, those familiar with Dylan Cruz’s projects should have some idea of what Hanging Garden offers. Sophomore album Dream Death once again features New York’s Cruz as the band’s sole musical contributor, and while he’s acted as guitarist, bassist, and vocalist across various projects (Scumbag, Dissonance, and formerly Noxis), solo project Hanging Garden finds him supplying every piece of the sonic gamut. While Scumbag’s Homicide Cult featured Cruz’s low-end, knuckle-dragging heft, what usually stands out about his performances are the progressive-leaning, riff-centric guitar displays. Throughout Cruz’s projects,1 his creative application of six-string shenanigans never fails to cook up hooks, and Dream Death proves another worthy notch in his belt. Yet you need more than a few sick licks to keep listeners coming back for more. Does Dream Death offer enough to keep folks Hanging around?

Hanging Garden trades in densely clustered, bone-rattling compositions that whip and seethe in unpredictable paroxysms of melody and br00tality. In this way, it’s clear that Noxis’s Violence Inherent in the System shares DNA with Hanging Garden, as both walk the line between bursts of frenzied riffing and snaking leads. Second track “Ondine” most reminds me of Noxis as it cruises and bruises with a punchy intro and continues throwing haymakers throughout. Opener “Arete” leans closer to Scumbag early on, storming the Garden gates with an adrenalized ferocity that should set your headbangometer to ‘breakneck’ tout de suite. Unlike Cruz’s aforementioned projects, though, Dream Death ups the ante from Hanging Garden’s debut, The God That Made Them Bow, and emphasizes melodic backdrops and gazey layers alongside the whiplashing punishments of their deathly wares.

Though Cruz excels at master-crafting wicked riffs and searing solos, Hanging Garden gives him an arena to develop dimensions outside his other current and former projects. It’s no cause for alarm—the riffs and solos still thrill on Dream Death—it’s just that here they collide with vibrant textures, bestowing dynamic stratifications of sounds woven into an aural tapestry that billows and ripples with audacity. Though hinted at early on, swells of euphony unfurl as listeners delve deeper into Dream Death. “Dreamwoven” begins with beefy, slug ‘n’ chug tactics that’ll slap the stank right on your face. Then a jangle of notes rings out atop filthy grooves and blossoms over the course of the track, where almost-but-not-quite mellifluousness jostles against nasty barbarity. This give and take persists throughout Dream Death, where melody asserts more control through the back half, especially on closer “Suffering Radiant Memories,” even though the thuggery never dissipates completely.

Though Hanging Garden marshals forces primal and sophisticated on Dream Death, a few modifications could have commanded an even greater impact. Given the relatively compact instrumentation,2 the production doesn’t necessitate a huge dynamic range to let organic timbres and resonances through, yet the busy compositions occasionally ache for more space. The walls of sound, like those heard on “Arete” and “Endymion,” exact their toll across a tidy forty-one minutes, and while this isn’t a huge knock against, a little extra breathing room would allow Hanging Garden’s arrangements to cut deeper. More positively, Cruz presents a wide variety of atmospheres and riffs without anything ever feeling out of place. Considering the ground covered on Dream Death, this is no mean feat. And though I appreciate the assortment of sonic elements on tap, I wish there was a tad more cohesion amongst the bump and scrape of melody and wiolence. Not to suggest none exists, mind, as everything blooming in Hanging Garden bears fruit—only that putting a finer point on the balance between the two would take Dream Death to even greater heights.

Once again, Dylan Cruz makes his presence immediately known and appreciated, delivering a big success with Hanging Garden’s second platter. Dream Death takes a few listens to dig into and get a sense of what’s happening, but doing so is well worth the time. From the thrash-driven leads on “Tears of Lustful, Secret Desire” that collapse into post-addled textures to the tech death soloing and battery on “Carambola,” Cruz plants his prog death seeds deep enough to let your Garden groan. Amidst a rising tide of quality releases, Hanging Garden remains rooted in relevance and entreats you to dare to Dream Death.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 4 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Transcending Obscurity Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: September 18th, 2026

Between reckless grooves, shimmering leads, and Byzantine riffs, those familiar with Dylan Cruz’s projects should have some idea of what Hanging Garden offers. Sophomore album Dream Death once again features New York’s Cruz as the band’s sole musical contributor, and while he’s acted as guitarist, bassist, and vocalist across various projects (Scumbag, Dissonance, and formerly Noxis), solo project Hanging Garden finds him supplying every piece of the sonic gamut. While Scumbag’s Homicide Cult featured Cruz’s low-end, knuckle-dragging heft, what usually stands out about his performances are the progressive-leaning, riff-centric guitar displays. Throughout Cruz’s projects,1 his creative application of six-string shenanigans never fails to cook up hooks, and Dream Death proves another worthy notch in his belt. Yet you need more than a few sick licks to keep listeners coming back for more. Does Dream Death offer enough to keep folks Hanging around?

Hanging Garden trades in densely clustered, bone-rattling compositions that whip and seethe in unpredictable paroxysms of melody and br00tality. In this way, it’s clear that Noxis’s Violence Inherent in the System shares DNA with Hanging Garden, as both walk the line between bursts of frenzied riffing and snaking leads. Second track “Ondine” most reminds me of Noxis as it cruises and bruises with a punchy intro and continues throwing haymakers throughout. Opener “Arete” leans closer to Scumbag early on, storming the Garden gates with an adrenalized ferocity that should set your headbangometer to ‘breakneck’ tout de suite. Unlike Cruz’s aforementioned projects, though, Dream Death ups the ante from Hanging Garden’s debut, The God That Made Them Bow, and emphasizes melodic backdrops and gazey layers alongside the whiplashing punishments of their deathly wares.

Though Cruz excels at master-crafting wicked riffs and searing solos, Hanging Garden gives him an arena to develop dimensions outside his other current and former projects. It’s no cause for alarm—the riffs and solos still thrill on Dream Death—it’s just that here they collide with vibrant textures, bestowing dynamic stratifications of sounds woven into an aural tapestry that billows and ripples with audacity. Though hinted at early on, swells of euphony unfurl as listeners delve deeper into Dream Death. “Dreamwoven” begins with beefy, slug ‘n’ chug tactics that’ll slap the stank right on your face. Then a jangle of notes rings out atop filthy grooves and blossoms over the course of the track, where almost-but-not-quite mellifluousness jostles against nasty barbarity. This give and take persists throughout Dream Death, where melody asserts more control through the back half, especially on closer “Suffering Radiant Memories,” even though the thuggery never dissipates completely.

Though Hanging Garden marshals forces primal and sophisticated on Dream Death, a few modifications could have commanded an even greater impact. Given the relatively compact instrumentation,2 the production doesn’t necessitate a huge dynamic range to let organic timbres and resonances through, yet the busy compositions occasionally ache for more space. The walls of sound, like those heard on “Arete” and “Endymion,” exact their toll across a tidy forty-one minutes, and while this isn’t a huge knock against, a little extra breathing room would allow Hanging Garden’s arrangements to cut deeper. More positively, Cruz presents a wide variety of atmospheres and riffs without anything ever feeling out of place. Considering the ground covered on Dream Death, this is no mean feat. And though I appreciate the assortment of sonic elements on tap, I wish there was a tad more cohesion amongst the bump and scrape of melody and wiolence. Not to suggest none exists, mind, as everything blooming in Hanging Garden bears fruit—only that putting a finer point on the balance between the two would take Dream Death to even greater heights.

Once again, Dylan Cruz makes his presence immediately known and appreciated, delivering a big success with Hanging Garden’s second platter. Dream Death takes a few listens to dig into and get a sense of what’s happening, but doing so is well worth the time. From the thrash-driven leads on “Tears of Lustful, Secret Desire” that collapse into post-addled textures to the tech death soloing and battery on “Carambola,” Cruz plants his prog death seeds deep enough to let your Garden groan. Amidst a rising tide of quality releases, Hanging Garden remains rooted in relevance and entreats you to dare to Dream Death.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 4 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Transcending Obscurity Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: September 18th, 2026

Between reckless grooves, shimmering leads, and Byzantine riffs, those familiar with Dylan Cruz’s projects should have some idea of what Hanging Garden offers. Sophomore album Dream Death once again features New York’s Cruz as the band’s sole musical contributor, and while he’s acted as guitarist, bassist, and vocalist across various projects (Scumbag, Dissonance, and formerly Noxis), solo project Hanging Garden finds him supplying every piece of the sonic gamut. While Scumbag’s Homicide Cult featured Cruz’s low-end, knuckle-dragging heft, what usually stands out about his performances are the progressive-leaning, riff-centric guitar displays. Throughout Cruz’s projects,1 his creative application of six-string shenanigans never fails to cook up hooks, and Dream Death proves another worthy notch in his belt. Yet you need more than a few sick licks to keep listeners coming back for more. Does Dream Death offer enough to keep folks Hanging around?

Hanging Garden trades in densely clustered, bone-rattling compositions that whip and seethe in unpredictable paroxysms of melody and br00tality. In this way, it’s clear that Noxis’s Violence Inherent in the System shares DNA with Hanging Garden, as both walk the line between bursts of frenzied riffing and snaking leads. Second track “Ondine” most reminds me of Noxis as it cruises and bruises with a punchy intro and continues throwing haymakers throughout. Opener “Arete” leans closer to Scumbag early on, storming the Garden gates with an adrenalized ferocity that should set your headbangometer to ‘breakneck’ tout de suite. Unlike Cruz’s aforementioned projects, though, Dream Death ups the ante from Hanging Garden’s debut, The God That Made Them Bow, and emphasizes melodic backdrops and gazey layers alongside the whiplashing punishments of their deathly wares.

Though Cruz excels at master-crafting wicked riffs and searing solos, Hanging Garden gives him an arena to develop dimensions outside his other current and former projects. It’s no cause for alarm—the riffs and solos still thrill on Dream Death—it’s just that here they collide with vibrant textures, bestowing dynamic stratifications of sounds woven into an aural tapestry that billows and ripples with audacity. Though hinted at early on, swells of euphony unfurl as listeners delve deeper into Dream Death. “Dreamwoven” begins with beefy, slug ‘n’ chug tactics that’ll slap the stank right on your face. Then a jangle of notes rings out atop filthy grooves and blossoms over the course of the track, where almost-but-not-quite mellifluousness jostles against nasty barbarity. This give and take persists throughout Dream Death, where melody asserts more control through the back half, especially on closer “Suffering Radiant Memories,” even though the thuggery never dissipates completely.

Though Hanging Garden marshals forces primal and sophisticated on Dream Death, a few modifications could have commanded an even greater impact. Given the relatively compact instrumentation,2 the production doesn’t necessitate a huge dynamic range to let organic timbres and resonances through, yet the busy compositions occasionally ache for more space. The walls of sound, like those heard on “Arete” and “Endymion,” exact their toll across a tidy forty-one minutes, and while this isn’t a huge knock against, a little extra breathing room would allow Hanging Garden’s arrangements to cut deeper. More positively, Cruz presents a wide variety of atmospheres and riffs without anything ever feeling out of place. Considering the ground covered on Dream Death, this is no mean feat. And though I appreciate the assortment of sonic elements on tap, I wish there was a tad more cohesion amongst the bump and scrape of melody and wiolence. Not to suggest none exists, mind, as everything blooming in Hanging Garden bears fruit—only that putting a finer point on the balance between the two would take Dream Death to even greater heights.

Once again, Dylan Cruz makes his presence immediately known and appreciated, delivering a big success with Hanging Garden’s second platter. Dream Death takes a few listens to dig into and get a sense of what’s happening, but doing so is well worth the time. From the thrash-driven leads on “Tears of Lustful, Secret Desire” that collapse into post-addled textures to the tech death soloing and battery on “Carambola,” Cruz plants his prog death seeds deep enough to let your Garden groan. Amidst a rising tide of quality releases, Hanging Garden remains rooted in relevance and entreats you to dare to Dream Death.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 4 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Transcending Obscurity Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: September 18th, 2026

Between reckless grooves, shimmering leads, and Byzantine riffs, those familiar with Dylan Cruz’s projects should have some idea of what Hanging Garden offers. Sophomore album Dream Death once again features New York’s Cruz as the band’s sole musical contributor, and while he’s acted as guitarist, bassist, and vocalist across various projects (Scumbag, Dissonance, and formerly Noxis), solo project Hanging Garden finds him supplying every piece of the sonic gamut. While Scumbag’s Homicide Cult featured Cruz’s low-end, knuckle-dragging heft, what usually stands out about his performances are the progressive-leaning, riff-centric guitar displays. Throughout Cruz’s projects,1 his creative application of six-string shenanigans never fails to cook up hooks, and Dream Death proves another worthy notch in his belt. Yet you need more than a few sick licks to keep listeners coming back for more. Does Dream Death offer enough to keep folks Hanging around?

Hanging Garden trades in densely clustered, bone-rattling compositions that whip and seethe in unpredictable paroxysms of melody and br00tality. In this way, it’s clear that Noxis’s Violence Inherent in the System shares DNA with Hanging Garden, as both walk the line between bursts of frenzied riffing and snaking leads. Second track “Ondine” most reminds me of Noxis as it cruises and bruises with a punchy intro and continues throwing haymakers throughout. Opener “Arete” leans closer to Scumbag early on, storming the Garden gates with an adrenalized ferocity that should set your headbangometer to ‘breakneck’ tout de suite. Unlike Cruz’s aforementioned projects, though, Dream Death ups the ante from Hanging Garden’s debut, The God That Made Them Bow, and emphasizes melodic backdrops and gazey layers alongside the whiplashing punishments of their deathly wares.

Though Cruz excels at master-crafting wicked riffs and searing solos, Hanging Garden gives him an arena to develop dimensions outside his other current and former projects. It’s no cause for alarm—the riffs and solos still thrill on Dream Death—it’s just that here they collide with vibrant textures, bestowing dynamic stratifications of sounds woven into an aural tapestry that billows and ripples with audacity. Though hinted at early on, swells of euphony unfurl as listeners delve deeper into Dream Death. “Dreamwoven” begins with beefy, slug ‘n’ chug tactics that’ll slap the stank right on your face. Then a jangle of notes rings out atop filthy grooves and blossoms over the course of the track, where almost-but-not-quite mellifluousness jostles against nasty barbarity. This give and take persists throughout Dream Death, where melody asserts more control through the back half, especially on closer “Suffering Radiant Memories,” even though the thuggery never dissipates completely.

Though Hanging Garden marshals forces primal and sophisticated on Dream Death, a few modifications could have commanded an even greater impact. Given the relatively compact instrumentation,2 the production doesn’t necessitate a huge dynamic range to let organic timbres and resonances through, yet the busy compositions occasionally ache for more space. The walls of sound, like those heard on “Arete” and “Endymion,” exact their toll across a tidy forty-one minutes, and while this isn’t a huge knock against, a little extra breathing room would allow Hanging Garden’s arrangements to cut deeper. More positively, Cruz presents a wide variety of atmospheres and riffs without anything ever feeling out of place. Considering the ground covered on Dream Death, this is no mean feat. And though I appreciate the assortment of sonic elements on tap, I wish there was a tad more cohesion amongst the bump and scrape of melody and wiolence. Not to suggest none exists, mind, as everything blooming in Hanging Garden bears fruit—only that putting a finer point on the balance between the two would take Dream Death to even greater heights.

Once again, Dylan Cruz makes his presence immediately known and appreciated, delivering a big success with Hanging Garden’s second platter. Dream Death takes a few listens to dig into and get a sense of what’s happening, but doing so is well worth the time. From the thrash-driven leads on “Tears of Lustful, Secret Desire” that collapse into post-addled textures to the tech death soloing and battery on “Carambola,” Cruz plants his prog death seeds deep enough to let your Garden groan. Amidst a rising tide of quality releases, Hanging Garden remains rooted in relevance and entreats you to dare to Dream Death.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 4 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Transcending Obscurity Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: September 18th, 2026

HANGING GARDEN (Estats Units) presenta nou àlbum: "Dream Death" #HangingGarden #ProgressiveDeathMetal #Setembre2026 #EstatsUnits #NouÀlbum #Metall #Metal #MúsicaMetal #MetalMusic

HANGING GARDEN (Estats Units) presenta nou àlbum: "Dream Death" #HangingGarden #ProgressiveDeathMetal #Setembre2026 #EstatsUnits #NouÀlbum #Metall #Metal #MúsicaMetal #MetalMusic

Thunder rattles the ducts as my minions trudge through heated aluminum and flimsy copper to clean out the detritus left by endless storms. Sometimes I wonder if I should invest in a “health plan” for them to offset the debilitating turnover resulting from various mortal injuries and gruesome deaths this work incurs. And then I think again, and realize that would be a waste of “profits.” There will always be more dummies willing to dive in with the promise of treasure sparkling in their eyes.

Aaaaannnnyyyyway, nobody lost limb or life in the Filter today, but we did manage a decent haul. BEHOLD!

Kenstrosity’s Burning Bastion

Forsmán // Brenndar rústir & fuðrandi fjörur [June 26th, 2026 – Vesperian]

Iceland is where all the cool black metal kids sit. Smeary corpse paint, cloaks, throaty roars, somehow simultaneously wet and dry snare tones, and hooky riffs surrounded in lower-pitched tremolos make the Icelandic scene almost instantly recognizable. Forsmán are no exception, the young foursome abiding by the genre blueprint—in a similar way to bands like Svartidauði and Helfró—on remarkably professional debut Brenndar rústir & fuðrandi fjörur. A deathly kink lightly twists blasty riff freakouts (“Drottinn fyrirgefur allt,” “Valdníðsla”), but when they land their impact cracks the earth underfoot. A dissonant drama further characterizes Forsmán’s black metal core to scaffold riff-driven measures and off-kilter rhythms, and yet everything remains accessible and easily digestible (“Svartir svanir,” “Andvana,” “Barmafylltar fjöldagrafir”). While Forsmán aren’t attempting to redefine the style with this debut, they do earn a spot alongside the genre’s best with tight performances, fiery riff-forward writing, and a writhing personality that is vicious as much as it is beautifully expressed (“Kynjamyndir”). In short, Brenndar rústir & fuðrandi fjörur should not be missed, as it represents with great merit the high quality I’ve come to expect from the modern Icelandic black metal scene.

Owlswald’s Sunlit Secret

Entropist // The Vision [June 26, 2026 – Self Released]

Denver progressive death metal quintet Entropist is the very definition of a Stuck in the Filter unearthing. Their debut album, The Vision, slipped through the cracks amid our June promo flood and resurfaced too late for a standard review. Time to make amends. Mixed and mastered by Jamie King (Between the Buried and Me, The Contortionist), The Vision showcases a group brimming with talent and ambition.1 Blending death with elements of progressive metal, psychedelic rock, metalcore, jazz, and classical, The Vision is a melting pot of influences that thrives on vivid atmospherics and an effective dual-vocal approach from Parker Kitching and guitarist Solomon Smith, creating a sound that is adventurous and rewarding. “Intense Warmth” opens with a bout of hypnotic throat singing that morphs into layered croons. “Desert of Limbo’s” crawling melodies evoke Haken. Elsewhere, “The Ritual’s” eerie atmosphere and its intense bridge throw serious Aeolian-era The Ocean vibes, while “Devour Us” delivers exotic acoustic guitar and violin passages before closing with a swaggering groove and a contorted solo. “Creation” proves what Entropist is capable of when all the pieces lock together. Packed with Exoplanet-like riffs, alternating growls and soaring vocals, and a heaving half-time groove, the track’s eclecticism and momentum never let up. Not every experiment lands—”Revelation” and the aptly named “Wandering” lose sight of their destination—but there’s too much talent and creativity here to ignore. The Vision may be far from flawless, but it’s without a doubt an impressive debut.

Spicie Forrest’s Mathy Morsel

eleventwelfth // 11 [June 26, 2026 – Angular//Momentum Records]

Do you remember when Sithu Aye released that Senpai series?2 Airy, engaging, and wildly emotive, I’ve been chasing that sound ever since. eleventwelfth’s newest LP, 11, scratches that itch as it hasn’t been scratched in years. Part one in a concept duology3 that will serve as the Jakarta, Indonesia-based foursome’s sophomore offering, 11 follows its protagonist as they reckon with the necessary sacrifices one must make in pursuit of a dream. Largely rooted in indie and math rock, 11 unfolds in three acts filtered through aviation metaphors. Hopeful and tender melodies dance on strings like the wind through tall grass (“far away from here,” “collision”), while vocals effortlessly swoop and soar like an albatross on ocean air currents. 7-minute closer “communicate” swells inexorably, wind gathering under its wings until, at the midpoint, it takes off in a beautiful moment of catharsis. Synths and electronic elements evoke Porter Robinson’s Nurture in their gentle and ineffably nostalgic movements (“navigate,” “to fathom the throes”). When eleventwelfth leans into their Reliant K’d rock side, as on “ascending faster than before,” “fear of what’s beyond,” or “last here all alone,” 11 moves as if in a flow state—somehow simultaneously approaching lightspeed and locked in a timeless moment. This certainly isn’t the heaviest thing you’ll hear this year—it might be the lightest—but for those who know what it means to risk it all on hopes and dreams, 11 is not to be missed.

ClarkKent’s Energetic Inputs

Finsmoonth // Chrysalis of Astral Tears [June 13th, 2026 – Disaster Records]

Indonesia’s Finsmoonth puts on a clinic of melancholic atmospheric black metal with some first-rate tremolos and affecting performances. They partake in an aggressive, melodic form of the genre that’s similar to Walg in its relentlessness. Icy cold blast beats pummel your ears while the melodic tremolos prove a soothing balm wrapped in melancholy. The two guitarists, Zulk Adhe and Irwin Ranto, are tremolo wizards, serving quality leads on each song. My favorite, “Embers at Ethereal Dawn,” displays Finsmoonth’s ability to build up to powerful emotional climaxes. Tino Guruh proves an effective and consistent vocalist. His blackened rasps form the emotional core, and on “Embers at Ethereal Dawn,” he breaks into agonized cries that are just heartbreaking. The passing of the band’s bassist, Maulana Fachrul, less than two months ahead of the release of Chrysalis of Astral Tears adds further to the poignancy. Fachrul puts on a first-rate performance, with some stellar lonesome instrumental stretches on “An Endless Depth,” as well as a bit of smooth jazz noodling towards the end of “Foliage of the Wings.” If Indonesian black metal reminds you of Pure Wrath, then it might not be a surprise to learn that Januaryo Hardy contributes the cleans/chants, and even his wife, Isa Bellum, has a couple of small parts. I don’t know what’s going on in Jakarta to make these artists so sad, but they’re writing some damn fine music.

Inherits the Void // The Silent Abscission [June 19th, 2026 – Avantgarde Music]

France’s Antoine Scholtès has been quite busy since forming his solo black metal project, Inherits the Void, in 2020. Thus Spoke had kind words for the previous two, 2023’s The Impending Fall of Stars and 2024’s Scars of Yesteryear, comparing the former to the atmospheric meloblack of Mare Cognitum. This time around, Scholtès brings along some friends, including Romain Negro (Apolaustic, ex-Stortregn) to helm the mic. Romain brings a much more aggressive blackened edge to the vocals, cracking with a relentless energy. Scholtès still contributes backing vocals, and a mysterious Nicolas S. sings cleans on a couple of tracks, including a great soaring bit on the finale, “Inherits the Void.” The Silent Abscission feels a touch more aggressive than what Inherits the Void generally plays. Between the blast beats, furious tremolos, and Romain’s blackened assault, there’s a sense of constant kinetic motion. It’s true that some of this stuff can blend together, but there’s plenty of great melodies to keep it enjoyable from start to finish. While Scholtès continues to use synths and arpeggios as brief reprieves from the blast beat attack, he also invites Kevon S. to play some sax (“Wrath of the Endless Sea,” “Inherits the Void”), bringing to mind Burial in the Sky or White Ward. The Silent Abscission is yet another impressive outing in Inherits the Void’s discography, with Scholtès showing that he’s willing to take some risks in order to make things more interesting.

Grin Reaper’s Nocturnal Nuggets

Hecate // Comment Est la Nuit? [June 12th, 2026 – Self Released]

Since forming in 2009, French ensemble Hecate has steadily released reliable and trve black metal. Fourth album Comment Est la Nuit?4 serves as my introduction to the act, and after visiting earlier albums I’m confident that their latest is their greatest (so far).5 Where debut Chronicles d’un Autre Temps sounds more modern (think 1349 or Watain), subsequent albums gravitate towards raw production that radiates early second-wave energy. Comment Est la Nuit? perpetuates this aesthetic, though Hecate adorns it with classical frills that I find irresistible, such as their seamless integration of piano, flute, and cello with gusts of piercing tremolos and grating rasps. Though Comment Est la Nuit? remains solidly rooted in black metal, the keys function as a core component like never before. Each time I listen, Hecate reveals new facets that only get better with familiarity. The intro to “Aubes aux pâles salives” begins with a beautiful piano refrain supported by clean guitars and a subtle bass thread before tumbling into distorted trems that bear the same melodic framework. Likewise, the range of “Hymne au clair de lune” batters listeners between scathing muscle and delicate respites. I don’t expect Comment Est la Nuit? to change opinions about black metal, but those who enjoy it will find Hecate has written an engrossing experience that wonderfully details the rhythms of the night.

Stormkeep // The Nocturnes of Iswylm [June 12th, 2026 – Vesperian]

Like many, I eagerly awaited a full-length follow-up to Stormkeep’s magnificent debut Tales of Othertime, uncertain if or when it would arrive. Because the band’s other projects consistently enrapture me (Wayfarer and Blood Incantation, in particular), I never worried whether the Denver, Colorado collective’s sophomore platter would satisfy the promises made by Othertime. And while I’m not convinced that The Nocturnes of Iswylm reaches the heights the debut, Stormkeep still unleashes goodies aplenty that litter Nocturnes three-quarters of an hour. Gone are the instrumentals from Tales of Othertime—instead, Stormkeep dials down the cinema in favor of more straightforward meloblack, although drama still seethes beneath the surface. String embellishments dot the arrangements (“The Taste of Immortal Blood,” “Imperious Sanguine Eroticism,” “Carnal Tapestries of Nailtorn Flesh”), imparting dramatic flair and a welcome dimension to Stormkeep’s fantastical atmosphere. And like the cover art, The Nocturnes of Iswylm embraces darker textures that wrestle in doleful gloom, engendering a subtler experience that took time to sink in and appreciate. While this approach doesn’t ply the same epic theatricality as the debut, The Nocturnes of Iswylm nonetheless worms its way into ears and hearts with nefarious glamours that crackle with danger.

Belarus Beaver // Grind af den Brune Bäfver [June 17th, 2026 – Self Released]

Sweden plays host to many metallic endeavors, and I often feel like I’m picking up secondhand geography lessons as a result of listening to its exports. Belarus Beaver, then, supplies a toofer, as they began their journey in melodeath mecca Gothenburg before settling down in Jönköping (also home to Hällas, Rexoria, and Narnia). Rather than progressive rock or power metal, though, Belarus Beaver obliterates listeners with a bucktoothed bombshell of devastating deathgrind that’s at once savagely br00tal and pure fun. Also, it’s all about beavers. On fourth album Grind af den Brune Bäfver, Belarus Beaver weaves together groove-laced blasts with industrial trimmings that recall a mixture of early Anaal Nathrakh (“I Want to Pet a Beaver”) and Exhumed (“Den Gnagande Plågan,” “Begravd i en Flod”). Occasionally, though, Grind af den Brune Bäfver reaches for a twist in their songwriting repertoire that uplifts the music, like the Eastern stringed instrument at the beginning of “Urbävern” or the unexpected melodic guitar support midway through “Mutated Beaver Moose.” These moments and others like them elevate Grind af den Brune Bäfver above sheer novelty, and if you’re not sold on Beaver fever, you’re missing out. So let your hair down and give yourself over to the Grind—it’s dam fun.

Creeping Ivy’s Classic Catch

Dead Kosmonaut // Retrospectre [June 26th, 2026 – Edged Circle Productions]

Dead Kosmonaut conceived a perfect title for their third album. Since 2014, this Swedish quintet has been molding traditional heavy metal hearkening to the late 70s and early 80s. This style—the first wave of metal itself—haunts any and every musician in the genre with aspirations of crafting something trve. With the specter of retro metal hanging over the band’s collective head, Retrospectre delivers 38 minutes of classic goodness, imbued with a somber longing. Dead Kosmonaut is a well-credentialed crew, starting with guitarists Fredrik Folkare (ex-Necrophobic) and Peter Hallgren (Sorcerer), who dole out irresistible guitarmonies and audacious solos in the spirit of Iron Maiden (“Out of the Shadow Rising”). The rhythm section, comprised of bassist Mattias Reinholdsson and drummer Henrik Johansson (both ex-Book of Hours), punches through the mix with power and a bit of grit (“Wake of Aquarius”). And of course, vocalist Per ‘Hellbutcher’ Gustavsson shines, trading his black metal bona fides for commanding cleans that drive some damn fine choruses (“View from the Future”). Lyrically, the album especially develops its theme of retrospection in the latter half, with songs about aging (“Eyes Grow Old”), defeat (“The Battle is Over”), and the inexorable march of time (“The Retrospectre”). Retrospectre will certainly scratch any itches for timeless, classic metal, but Dead Kosmonaut have enough talent, character, and craftmanship to make their third offering more than mere nostalgia.

Thunder rattles the ducts as my minions trudge through heated aluminum and flimsy copper to clean out the detritus left by endless storms. Sometimes I wonder if I should invest in a “health plan” for them to offset the debilitating turnover resulting from various mortal injuries and gruesome deaths this work incurs. And then I think again, and realize that would be a waste of “profits.” There will always be more dummies willing to dive in with the promise of treasure sparkling in their eyes.

Aaaaannnnyyyyway, nobody lost limb or life in the Filter today, but we did manage a decent haul. BEHOLD!

Kenstrosity’s Burning Bastion

Forsmán // Brenndar rústir & fuðrandi fjörur [June 26th, 2026 – Vesperian]

Iceland is where all the cool black metal kids sit. Smeary corpse paint, cloaks, throaty roars, somehow simultaneously wet and dry snare tones, and hooky riffs surrounded in lower-pitched tremolos make the Icelandic scene almost instantly recognizable. Forsmán are no exception, the young foursome abiding by the genre blueprint—in a similar way to bands like Svartidauði and Helfró—on remarkably professional debut Brenndar rústir & fuðrandi fjörur. A deathly kink lightly twists blasty riff freakouts (“Drottinn fyrirgefur allt,” “Valdníðsla”), but when they land their impact cracks the earth underfoot. A dissonant drama further characterizes Forsmán’s black metal core to scaffold riff-driven measures and off-kilter rhythms, and yet everything remains accessible and easily digestible (“Svartir svanir,” “Andvana,” “Barmafylltar fjöldagrafir”). While Forsmán aren’t attempting to redefine the style with this debut, they do earn a spot alongside the genre’s best with tight performances, fiery riff-forward writing, and a writhing personality that is vicious as much as it is beautifully expressed (“Kynjamyndir”). In short, Brenndar rústir & fuðrandi fjörur should not be missed, as it represents with great merit the high quality I’ve come to expect from the modern Icelandic black metal scene.

Owlswald’s Sunlit Secret

Entropist // The Vision [June 26, 2026 – Self Released]

Denver progressive death metal quintet Entropist is the very definition of a Stuck in the Filter unearthing. Their debut album, The Vision, slipped through the cracks amid our June promo flood and resurfaced too late for a standard review. Time to make amends. Mixed and mastered by Jamie King (Between the Buried and Me, The Contortionist), The Vision showcases a group brimming with talent and ambition.1 Blending death with elements of progressive metal, psychedelic rock, metalcore, jazz, and classical, The Vision is a melting pot of influences that thrives on vivid atmospherics and an effective dual-vocal approach from Parker Kitching and guitarist Solomon Smith, creating a sound that is adventurous and rewarding. “Intense Warmth” opens with a bout of hypnotic throat singing that morphs into layered croons. “Desert of Limbo’s” crawling melodies evoke Haken. Elsewhere, “The Ritual’s” eerie atmosphere and its intense bridge throw serious Aeolian-era The Ocean vibes, while “Devour Us” delivers exotic acoustic guitar and violin passages before closing with a swaggering groove and a contorted solo. “Creation” proves what Entropist is capable of when all the pieces lock together. Packed with Exoplanet-like riffs, alternating growls and soaring vocals, and a heaving half-time groove, the track’s eclecticism and momentum never let up. Not every experiment lands—”Revelation” and the aptly named “Wandering” lose sight of their destination—but there’s too much talent and creativity here to ignore. The Vision may be far from flawless, but it’s without a doubt an impressive debut.

Spicie Forrest’s Mathy Morsel

eleventwelfth // 11 [June 26, 2026 – Angular//Momentum Records]

Do you remember when Sithu Aye released that Senpai series?2 Airy, engaging, and wildly emotive, I’ve been chasing that sound ever since. eleventwelfth’s newest LP, 11, scratches that itch as it hasn’t been scratched in years. Part one in a concept duology3 that will serve as the Jakarta, Indonesia-based foursome’s sophomore offering, 11 follows its protagonist as they reckon with the necessary sacrifices one must make in pursuit of a dream. Largely rooted in indie and math rock, 11 unfolds in three acts filtered through aviation metaphors. Hopeful and tender melodies dance on strings like the wind through tall grass (“far away from here,” “collision”), while vocals effortlessly swoop and soar like an albatross on ocean air currents. 7-minute closer “communicate” swells inexorably, wind gathering under its wings until, at the midpoint, it takes off in a beautiful moment of catharsis. Synths and electronic elements evoke Porter Robinson’s Nurture in their gentle and ineffably nostalgic movements (“navigate,” “to fathom the throes”). When eleventwelfth leans into their Reliant K’d rock side, as on “ascending faster than before,” “fear of what’s beyond,” or “last here all alone,” 11 moves as if in a flow state—somehow simultaneously approaching lightspeed and locked in a timeless moment. This certainly isn’t the heaviest thing you’ll hear this year—it might be the lightest—but for those who know what it means to risk it all on hopes and dreams, 11 is not to be missed.

ClarkKent’s Energetic Inputs

Finsmoonth // Chrysalis of Astral Tears [June 13th, 2026 – Disaster Records]

Indonesia’s Finsmoonth puts on a clinic of melancholic atmospheric black metal with some first-rate tremolos and affecting performances. They partake in an aggressive, melodic form of the genre that’s similar to Walg in its relentlessness. Icy cold blast beats pummel your ears while the melodic tremolos prove a soothing balm wrapped in melancholy. The two guitarists, Zulk Adhe and Irwin Ranto, are tremolo wizards, serving quality leads on each song. My favorite, “Embers at Ethereal Dawn,” displays Finsmoonth’s ability to build up to powerful emotional climaxes. Tino Guruh proves an effective and consistent vocalist. His blackened rasps form the emotional core, and on “Embers at Ethereal Dawn,” he breaks into agonized cries that are just heartbreaking. The passing of the band’s bassist, Maulana Fachrul, less than two months ahead of the release of Chrysalis of Astral Tears adds further to the poignancy. Fachrul puts on a first-rate performance, with some stellar lonesome instrumental stretches on “An Endless Depth,” as well as a bit of smooth jazz noodling towards the end of “Foliage of the Wings.” If Indonesian black metal reminds you of Pure Wrath, then it might not be a surprise to learn that Januaryo Hardy contributes the cleans/chants, and even his wife, Isa Bellum, has a couple of small parts. I don’t know what’s going on in Jakarta to make these artists so sad, but they’re writing some damn fine music.

Inherits the Void // The Silent Abscission [June 19th, 2026 – Avantgarde Music]

France’s Antoine Scholtès has been quite busy since forming his solo black metal project, Inherits the Void, in 2020. Thus Spoke had kind words for the previous two, 2023’s The Impending Fall of Stars and 2024’s Scars of Yesteryear, comparing the former to the atmospheric meloblack of Mare Cognitum. This time around, Scholtès brings along some friends, including Romain Negro (Apolaustic, ex-Stortregn) to helm the mic. Romain brings a much more aggressive blackened edge to the vocals, cracking with a relentless energy. Scholtès still contributes backing vocals, and a mysterious Nicolas S. sings cleans on a couple of tracks, including a great soaring bit on the finale, “Inherits the Void.” The Silent Abscission feels a touch more aggressive than what Inherits the Void generally plays. Between the blast beats, furious tremolos, and Romain’s blackened assault, there’s a sense of constant kinetic motion. It’s true that some of this stuff can blend together, but there’s plenty of great melodies to keep it enjoyable from start to finish. While Scholtès continues to use synths and arpeggios as brief reprieves from the blast beat attack, he also invites Kevon S. to play some sax (“Wrath of the Endless Sea,” “Inherits the Void”), bringing to mind Burial in the Sky or White Ward. The Silent Abscission is yet another impressive outing in Inherits the Void’s discography, with Scholtès showing that he’s willing to take some risks in order to make things more interesting.

Grin Reaper’s Nocturnal Nuggets

Hecate // Comment Est la Nuit? [June 12th, 2026 – Self Released]

Since forming in 2009, French ensemble Hecate has steadily released reliable and trve black metal. Fourth album Comment Est la Nuit?4 serves as my introduction to the act, and after visiting earlier albums I’m confident that their latest is their greatest (so far).5 Where debut Chronicles d’un Autre Temps sounds more modern (think 1349 or Watain), subsequent albums gravitate towards raw production that radiates early second-wave energy. Comment Est la Nuit? perpetuates this aesthetic, though Hecate adorns it with classical frills that I find irresistible, such as their seamless integration of piano, flute, and cello with gusts of piercing tremolos and grating rasps. Though Comment Est la Nuit? remains solidly rooted in black metal, the keys function as a core component like never before. Each time I listen, Hecate reveals new facets that only get better with familiarity. The intro to “Aubes aux pâles salives” begins with a beautiful piano refrain supported by clean guitars and a subtle bass thread before tumbling into distorted trems that bear the same melodic framework. Likewise, the range of “Hymne au clair de lune” batters listeners between scathing muscle and delicate respites. I don’t expect Comment Est la Nuit? to change opinions about black metal, but those who enjoy it will find Hecate has written an engrossing experience that wonderfully details the rhythms of the night.

Stormkeep // The Nocturnes of Iswylm [June 12th, 2026 – Vesperian]

Like many, I eagerly awaited a full-length follow-up to Stormkeep’s magnificent debut Tales of Othertime, uncertain if or when it would arrive. Because the band’s other projects consistently enrapture me (Wayfarer and Blood Incantation, in particular), I never worried whether the Denver, Colorado collective’s sophomore platter would satisfy the promises made by Othertime. And while I’m not convinced that The Nocturnes of Iswylm reaches the heights the debut, Stormkeep still unleashes goodies aplenty that litter Nocturnes three-quarters of an hour. Gone are the instrumentals from Tales of Othertime—instead, Stormkeep dials down the cinema in favor of more straightforward meloblack, although drama still seethes beneath the surface. String embellishments dot the arrangements (“The Taste of Immortal Blood,” “Imperious Sanguine Eroticism,” “Carnal Tapestries of Nailtorn Flesh”), imparting dramatic flair and a welcome dimension to Stormkeep’s fantastical atmosphere. And like the cover art, The Nocturnes of Iswylm embraces darker textures that wrestle in doleful gloom, engendering a subtler experience that took time to sink in and appreciate. While this approach doesn’t ply the same epic theatricality as the debut, The Nocturnes of Iswylm nonetheless worms its way into ears and hearts with nefarious glamours that crackle with danger.

Belarus Beaver // Grind af den Brune Bäfver [June 17th, 2026 – Self Released]

Sweden plays host to many metallic endeavors, and I often feel like I’m picking up secondhand geography lessons as a result of listening to its exports. Belarus Beaver, then, supplies a toofer, as they began their journey in melodeath mecca Gothenburg before settling down in Jönköping (also home to Hällas, Rexoria, and Narnia). Rather than progressive rock or power metal, though, Belarus Beaver obliterates listeners with a bucktoothed bombshell of devastating deathgrind that’s at once savagely br00tal and pure fun. Also, it’s all about beavers. On fourth album Grind af den Brune Bäfver, Belarus Beaver weaves together groove-laced blasts with industrial trimmings that recall a mixture of early Anaal Nathrakh (“I Want to Pet a Beaver”) and Exhumed (“Den Gnagande Plågan,” “Begravd i en Flod”). Occasionally, though, Grind af den Brune Bäfver reaches for a twist in their songwriting repertoire that uplifts the music, like the Eastern stringed instrument at the beginning of “Urbävern” or the unexpected melodic guitar support midway through “Mutated Beaver Moose.” These moments and others like them elevate Grind af den Brune Bäfver above sheer novelty, and if you’re not sold on Beaver fever, you’re missing out. So let your hair down and give yourself over to the Grind—it’s dam fun.

Creeping Ivy’s Classic Catch

Dead Kosmonaut // Retrospectre [June 26th, 2026 – Edged Circle Productions]

Dead Kosmonaut conceived a perfect title for their third album. Since 2014, this Swedish quintet has been molding traditional heavy metal hearkening to the late 70s and early 80s. This style—the first wave of metal itself—haunts any and every musician in the genre with aspirations of crafting something trve. With the specter of retro metal hanging over the band’s collective head, Retrospectre delivers 38 minutes of classic goodness, imbued with a somber longing. Dead Kosmonaut is a well-credentialed crew, starting with guitarists Fredrik Folkare (ex-Necrophobic) and Peter Hallgren (Sorcerer), who dole out irresistible guitarmonies and audacious solos in the spirit of Iron Maiden (“Out of the Shadow Rising”). The rhythm section, comprised of bassist Mattias Reinholdsson and drummer Henrik Johansson (both ex-Book of Hours), punches through the mix with power and a bit of grit (“Wake of Aquarius”). And of course, vocalist Per ‘Hellbutcher’ Gustavsson shines, trading his black metal bona fides for commanding cleans that drive some damn fine choruses (“View from the Future”). Lyrically, the album especially develops its theme of retrospection in the latter half, with songs about aging (“Eyes Grow Old”), defeat (“The Battle is Over”), and the inexorable march of time (“The Retrospectre”). Retrospectre will certainly scratch any itches for timeless, classic metal, but Dead Kosmonaut have enough talent, character, and craftmanship to make their third offering more than mere nostalgia.

Thunder rattles the ducts as my minions trudge through heated aluminum and flimsy copper to clean out the detritus left by endless storms. Sometimes I wonder if I should invest in a “health plan” for them to offset the debilitating turnover resulting from various mortal injuries and gruesome deaths this work incurs. And then I think again, and realize that would be a waste of “profits.” There will always be more dummies willing to dive in with the promise of treasure sparkling in their eyes.

Aaaaannnnyyyyway, nobody lost limb or life in the Filter today, but we did manage a decent haul. BEHOLD!

Kenstrosity’s Burning Bastion

Forsmán // Brenndar rústir & fuðrandi fjörur [June 26th, 2026 – Vesperian]

Iceland is where all the cool black metal kids sit. Smeary corpse paint, cloaks, throaty roars, somehow simultaneously wet and dry snare tones, and hooky riffs surrounded in lower-pitched tremolos make the Icelandic scene almost instantly recognizable. Forsmán are no exception, the young foursome abiding by the genre blueprint—in a similar way to bands like Svartidauði and Helfró—on remarkably professional debut Brenndar rústir & fuðrandi fjörur. A deathly kink lightly twists blasty riff freakouts (“Drottinn fyrirgefur allt,” “Valdníðsla”), but when they land their impact cracks the earth underfoot. A dissonant drama further characterizes Forsmán’s black metal core to scaffold riff-driven measures and off-kilter rhythms, and yet everything remains accessible and easily digestible (“Svartir svanir,” “Andvana,” “Barmafylltar fjöldagrafir”). While Forsmán aren’t attempting to redefine the style with this debut, they do earn a spot alongside the genre’s best with tight performances, fiery riff-forward writing, and a writhing personality that is vicious as much as it is beautifully expressed (“Kynjamyndir”). In short, Brenndar rústir & fuðrandi fjörur should not be missed, as it represents with great merit the high quality I’ve come to expect from the modern Icelandic black metal scene.

Owlswald’s Sunlit Secret

Entropist // The Vision [June 26, 2026 – Self Released]

Denver progressive death metal quintet Entropist is the very definition of a Stuck in the Filter unearthing. Their debut album, The Vision, slipped through the cracks amid our June promo flood and resurfaced too late for a standard review. Time to make amends. Mixed and mastered by Jamie King (Between the Buried and Me, The Contortionist), The Vision showcases a group brimming with talent and ambition.1 Blending death with elements of progressive metal, psychedelic rock, metalcore, jazz, and classical, The Vision is a melting pot of influences that thrives on vivid atmospherics and an effective dual-vocal approach from Parker Kitching and guitarist Solomon Smith, creating a sound that is adventurous and rewarding. “Intense Warmth” opens with a bout of hypnotic throat singing that morphs into layered croons. “Desert of Limbo’s” crawling melodies evoke Haken. Elsewhere, “The Ritual’s” eerie atmosphere and its intense bridge throw serious Aeolian-era The Ocean vibes, while “Devour Us” delivers exotic acoustic guitar and violin passages before closing with a swaggering groove and a contorted solo. “Creation” proves what Entropist is capable of when all the pieces lock together. Packed with Exoplanet-like riffs, alternating growls and soaring vocals, and a heaving half-time groove, the track’s eclecticism and momentum never let up. Not every experiment lands—”Revelation” and the aptly named “Wandering” lose sight of their destination—but there’s too much talent and creativity here to ignore. The Vision may be far from flawless, but it’s without a doubt an impressive debut.

Spicie Forrest’s Mathy Morsel

eleventwelfth // 11 [June 26, 2026 – Angular//Momentum Records]

Do you remember when Sithu Aye released that Senpai series?2 Airy, engaging, and wildly emotive, I’ve been chasing that sound ever since. eleventwelfth’s newest LP, 11, scratches that itch as it hasn’t been scratched in years. Part one in a concept duology3 that will serve as the Jakarta, Indonesia-based foursome’s sophomore offering, 11 follows its protagonist as they reckon with the necessary sacrifices one must make in pursuit of a dream. Largely rooted in indie and math rock, 11 unfolds in three acts filtered through aviation metaphors. Hopeful and tender melodies dance on strings like the wind through tall grass (“far away from here,” “collision”), while vocals effortlessly swoop and soar like an albatross on ocean air currents. 7-minute closer “communicate” swells inexorably, wind gathering under its wings until, at the midpoint, it takes off in a beautiful moment of catharsis. Synths and electronic elements evoke Porter Robinson’s Nurture in their gentle and ineffably nostalgic movements (“navigate,” “to fathom the throes”). When eleventwelfth leans into their Reliant K’d rock side, as on “ascending faster than before,” “fear of what’s beyond,” or “last here all alone,” 11 moves as if in a flow state—somehow simultaneously approaching lightspeed and locked in a timeless moment. This certainly isn’t the heaviest thing you’ll hear this year—it might be the lightest—but for those who know what it means to risk it all on hopes and dreams, 11 is not to be missed.

ClarkKent’s Energetic Inputs

Finsmoonth // Chrysalis of Astral Tears [June 13th, 2026 – Disaster Records]

Indonesia’s Finsmoonth puts on a clinic of melancholic atmospheric black metal with some first-rate tremolos and affecting performances. They partake in an aggressive, melodic form of the genre that’s similar to Walg in its relentlessness. Icy cold blast beats pummel your ears while the melodic tremolos prove a soothing balm wrapped in melancholy. The two guitarists, Zulk Adhe and Irwin Ranto, are tremolo wizards, serving quality leads on each song. My favorite, “Embers at Ethereal Dawn,” displays Finsmoonth’s ability to build up to powerful emotional climaxes. Tino Guruh proves an effective and consistent vocalist. His blackened rasps form the emotional core, and on “Embers at Ethereal Dawn,” he breaks into agonized cries that are just heartbreaking. The passing of the band’s bassist, Maulana Fachrul, less than two months ahead of the release of Chrysalis of Astral Tears adds further to the poignancy. Fachrul puts on a first-rate performance, with some stellar lonesome instrumental stretches on “An Endless Depth,” as well as a bit of smooth jazz noodling towards the end of “Foliage of the Wings.” If Indonesian black metal reminds you of Pure Wrath, then it might not be a surprise to learn that Januaryo Hardy contributes the cleans/chants, and even his wife, Isa Bellum, has a couple of small parts. I don’t know what’s going on in Jakarta to make these artists so sad, but they’re writing some damn fine music.

Inherits the Void // The Silent Abscission [June 19th, 2026 – Avantgarde Music]

France’s Antoine Scholtès has been quite busy since forming his solo black metal project, Inherits the Void, in 2020. Thus Spoke had kind words for the previous two, 2023’s The Impending Fall of Stars and 2024’s Scars of Yesteryear, comparing the former to the atmospheric meloblack of Mare Cognitum. This time around, Scholtès brings along some friends, including Romain Negro (Apolaustic, ex-Stortregn) to helm the mic. Romain brings a much more aggressive blackened edge to the vocals, cracking with a relentless energy. Scholtès still contributes backing vocals, and a mysterious Nicolas S. sings cleans on a couple of tracks, including a great soaring bit on the finale, “Inherits the Void.” The Silent Abscission feels a touch more aggressive than what Inherits the Void generally plays. Between the blast beats, furious tremolos, and Romain’s blackened assault, there’s a sense of constant kinetic motion. It’s true that some of this stuff can blend together, but there’s plenty of great melodies to keep it enjoyable from start to finish. While Scholtès continues to use synths and arpeggios as brief reprieves from the blast beat attack, he also invites Kevon S. to play some sax (“Wrath of the Endless Sea,” “Inherits the Void”), bringing to mind Burial in the Sky or White Ward. The Silent Abscission is yet another impressive outing in Inherits the Void’s discography, with Scholtès showing that he’s willing to take some risks in order to make things more interesting.

Grin Reaper’s Nocturnal Nuggets

Hecate // Comment Est la Nuit? [June 12th, 2026 – Self Released]

Since forming in 2009, French ensemble Hecate has steadily released reliable and trve black metal. Fourth album Comment Est la Nuit?4 serves as my introduction to the act, and after visiting earlier albums I’m confident that their latest is their greatest (so far).5 Where debut Chronicles d’un Autre Temps sounds more modern (think 1349 or Watain), subsequent albums gravitate towards raw production that radiates early second-wave energy. Comment Est la Nuit? perpetuates this aesthetic, though Hecate adorns it with classical frills that I find irresistible, such as their seamless integration of piano, flute, and cello with gusts of piercing tremolos and grating rasps. Though Comment Est la Nuit? remains solidly rooted in black metal, the keys function as a core component like never before. Each time I listen, Hecate reveals new facets that only get better with familiarity. The intro to “Aubes aux pâles salives” begins with a beautiful piano refrain supported by clean guitars and a subtle bass thread before tumbling into distorted trems that bear the same melodic framework. Likewise, the range of “Hymne au clair de lune” batters listeners between scathing muscle and delicate respites. I don’t expect Comment Est la Nuit? to change opinions about black metal, but those who enjoy it will find Hecate has written an engrossing experience that wonderfully details the rhythms of the night.

Stormkeep // The Nocturnes of Iswylm [June 12th, 2026 – Vesperian]

Like many, I eagerly awaited a full-length follow-up to Stormkeep’s magnificent debut Tales of Othertime, uncertain if or when it would arrive. Because the band’s other projects consistently enrapture me (Wayfarer and Blood Incantation, in particular), I never worried whether the Denver, Colorado collective’s sophomore platter would satisfy the promises made by Othertime. And while I’m not convinced that The Nocturnes of Iswylm reaches the heights the debut, Stormkeep still unleashes goodies aplenty that litter Nocturnes three-quarters of an hour. Gone are the instrumentals from Tales of Othertime—instead, Stormkeep dials down the cinema in favor of more straightforward meloblack, although drama still seethes beneath the surface. String embellishments dot the arrangements (“The Taste of Immortal Blood,” “Imperious Sanguine Eroticism,” “Carnal Tapestries of Nailtorn Flesh”), imparting dramatic flair and a welcome dimension to Stormkeep’s fantastical atmosphere. And like the cover art, The Nocturnes of Iswylm embraces darker textures that wrestle in doleful gloom, engendering a subtler experience that took time to sink in and appreciate. While this approach doesn’t ply the same epic theatricality as the debut, The Nocturnes of Iswylm nonetheless worms its way into ears and hearts with nefarious glamours that crackle with danger.

Belarus Beaver // Grind af den Brune Bäfver [June 17th, 2026 – Self Released]

Sweden plays host to many metallic endeavors, and I often feel like I’m picking up secondhand geography lessons as a result of listening to its exports. Belarus Beaver, then, supplies a toofer, as they began their journey in melodeath mecca Gothenburg before settling down in Jönköping (also home to Hällas, Rexoria, and Narnia). Rather than progressive rock or power metal, though, Belarus Beaver obliterates listeners with a bucktoothed bombshell of devastating deathgrind that’s at once savagely br00tal and pure fun. Also, it’s all about beavers. On fourth album Grind af den Brune Bäfver, Belarus Beaver weaves together groove-laced blasts with industrial trimmings that recall a mixture of early Anaal Nathrakh (“I Want to Pet a Beaver”) and Exhumed (“Den Gnagande Plågan,” “Begravd i en Flod”). Occasionally, though, Grind af den Brune Bäfver reaches for a twist in their songwriting repertoire that uplifts the music, like the Eastern stringed instrument at the beginning of “Urbävern” or the unexpected melodic guitar support midway through “Mutated Beaver Moose.” These moments and others like them elevate Grind af den Brune Bäfver above sheer novelty, and if you’re not sold on Beaver fever, you’re missing out. So let your hair down and give yourself over to the Grind—it’s dam fun.

Creeping Ivy’s Classic Catch

Dead Kosmonaut // Retrospectre [June 26th, 2026 – Edged Circle Productions]

Dead Kosmonaut conceived a perfect title for their third album. Since 2014, this Swedish quintet has been molding traditional heavy metal hearkening to the late 70s and early 80s. This style—the first wave of metal itself—haunts any and every musician in the genre with aspirations of crafting something trve. With the specter of retro metal hanging over the band’s collective head, Retrospectre delivers 38 minutes of classic goodness, imbued with a somber longing. Dead Kosmonaut is a well-credentialed crew, starting with guitarists Fredrik Folkare (ex-Necrophobic) and Peter Hallgren (Sorcerer), who dole out irresistible guitarmonies and audacious solos in the spirit of Iron Maiden (“Out of the Shadow Rising”). The rhythm section, comprised of bassist Mattias Reinholdsson and drummer Henrik Johansson (both ex-Book of Hours), punches through the mix with power and a bit of grit (“Wake of Aquarius”). And of course, vocalist Per ‘Hellbutcher’ Gustavsson shines, trading his black metal bona fides for commanding cleans that drive some damn fine choruses (“View from the Future”). Lyrically, the album especially develops its theme of retrospection in the latter half, with songs about aging (“Eyes Grow Old”), defeat (“The Battle is Over”), and the inexorable march of time (“The Retrospectre”). Retrospectre will certainly scratch any itches for timeless, classic metal, but Dead Kosmonaut have enough talent, character, and craftmanship to make their third offering more than mere nostalgia.

Thunder rattles the ducts as my minions trudge through heated aluminum and flimsy copper to clean out the detritus left by endless storms. Sometimes I wonder if I should invest in a “health plan” for them to offset the debilitating turnover resulting from various mortal injuries and gruesome deaths this work incurs. And then I think again, and realize that would be a waste of “profits.” There will always be more dummies willing to dive in with the promise of treasure sparkling in their eyes.

Aaaaannnnyyyyway, nobody lost limb or life in the Filter today, but we did manage a decent haul. BEHOLD!

Kenstrosity’s Burning Bastion

Forsmán // Brenndar rústir & fuðrandi fjörur [June 26th, 2026 – Vesperian]

Iceland is where all the cool black metal kids sit. Smeary corpse paint, cloaks, throaty roars, somehow simultaneously wet and dry snare tones, and hooky riffs surrounded in lower-pitched tremolos make the Icelandic scene almost instantly recognizable. Forsmán are no exception, the young foursome abiding by the genre blueprint—in a similar way to bands like Svartidauði and Helfró—on remarkably professional debut Brenndar rústir & fuðrandi fjörur. A deathly kink lightly twists blasty riff freakouts (“Drottinn fyrirgefur allt,” “Valdníðsla”), but when they land their impact cracks the earth underfoot. A dissonant drama further characterizes Forsmán’s black metal core to scaffold riff-driven measures and off-kilter rhythms, and yet everything remains accessible and easily digestible (“Svartir svanir,” “Andvana,” “Barmafylltar fjöldagrafir”). While Forsmán aren’t attempting to redefine the style with this debut, they do earn a spot alongside the genre’s best with tight performances, fiery riff-forward writing, and a writhing personality that is vicious as much as it is beautifully expressed (“Kynjamyndir”). In short, Brenndar rústir & fuðrandi fjörur should not be missed, as it represents with great merit the high quality I’ve come to expect from the modern Icelandic black metal scene.

Owlswald’s Sunlit Secret

Entropist // The Vision [June 26, 2026 – Self Released]

Denver progressive death metal quintet Entropist is the very definition of a Stuck in the Filter unearthing. Their debut album, The Vision, slipped through the cracks amid our June promo flood and resurfaced too late for a standard review. Time to make amends. Mixed and mastered by Jamie King (Between the Buried and Me, The Contortionist), The Vision showcases a group brimming with talent and ambition.1 Blending death with elements of progressive metal, psychedelic rock, metalcore, jazz, and classical, The Vision is a melting pot of influences that thrives on vivid atmospherics and an effective dual-vocal approach from Parker Kitching and guitarist Solomon Smith, creating a sound that is adventurous and rewarding. “Intense Warmth” opens with a bout of hypnotic throat singing that morphs into layered croons. “Desert of Limbo’s” crawling melodies evoke Haken. Elsewhere, “The Ritual’s” eerie atmosphere and its intense bridge throw serious Aeolian-era The Ocean vibes, while “Devour Us” delivers exotic acoustic guitar and violin passages before closing with a swaggering groove and a contorted solo. “Creation” proves what Entropist is capable of when all the pieces lock together. Packed with Exoplanet-like riffs, alternating growls and soaring vocals, and a heaving half-time groove, the track’s eclecticism and momentum never let up. Not every experiment lands—”Revelation” and the aptly named “Wandering” lose sight of their destination—but there’s too much talent and creativity here to ignore. The Vision may be far from flawless, but it’s without a doubt an impressive debut.

Spicie Forrest’s Mathy Morsel

eleventwelfth // 11 [June 26, 2026 – Angular//Momentum Records]

Do you remember when Sithu Aye released that Senpai series?2 Airy, engaging, and wildly emotive, I’ve been chasing that sound ever since. eleventwelfth’s newest LP, 11, scratches that itch as it hasn’t been scratched in years. Part one in a concept duology3 that will serve as the Jakarta, Indonesia-based foursome’s sophomore offering, 11 follows its protagonist as they reckon with the necessary sacrifices one must make in pursuit of a dream. Largely rooted in indie and math rock, 11 unfolds in three acts filtered through aviation metaphors. Hopeful and tender melodies dance on strings like the wind through tall grass (“far away from here,” “collision”), while vocals effortlessly swoop and soar like an albatross on ocean air currents. 7-minute closer “communicate” swells inexorably, wind gathering under its wings until, at the midpoint, it takes off in a beautiful moment of catharsis. Synths and electronic elements evoke Porter Robinson’s Nurture in their gentle and ineffably nostalgic movements (“navigate,” “to fathom the throes”). When eleventwelfth leans into their Reliant K’d rock side, as on “ascending faster than before,” “fear of what’s beyond,” or “last here all alone,” 11 moves as if in a flow state—somehow simultaneously approaching lightspeed and locked in a timeless moment. This certainly isn’t the heaviest thing you’ll hear this year—it might be the lightest—but for those who know what it means to risk it all on hopes and dreams, 11 is not to be missed.

ClarkKent’s Energetic Inputs

Finsmoonth // Chrysalis of Astral Tears [June 13th, 2026 – Disaster Records]

Indonesia’s Finsmoonth puts on a clinic of melancholic atmospheric black metal with some first-rate tremolos and affecting performances. They partake in an aggressive, melodic form of the genre that’s similar to Walg in its relentlessness. Icy cold blast beats pummel your ears while the melodic tremolos prove a soothing balm wrapped in melancholy. The two guitarists, Zulk Adhe and Irwin Ranto, are tremolo wizards, serving quality leads on each song. My favorite, “Embers at Ethereal Dawn,” displays Finsmoonth’s ability to build up to powerful emotional climaxes. Tino Guruh proves an effective and consistent vocalist. His blackened rasps form the emotional core, and on “Embers at Ethereal Dawn,” he breaks into agonized cries that are just heartbreaking. The passing of the band’s bassist, Maulana Fachrul, less than two months ahead of the release of Chrysalis of Astral Tears adds further to the poignancy. Fachrul puts on a first-rate performance, with some stellar lonesome instrumental stretches on “An Endless Depth,” as well as a bit of smooth jazz noodling towards the end of “Foliage of the Wings.” If Indonesian black metal reminds you of Pure Wrath, then it might not be a surprise to learn that Januaryo Hardy contributes the cleans/chants, and even his wife, Isa Bellum, has a couple of small parts. I don’t know what’s going on in Jakarta to make these artists so sad, but they’re writing some damn fine music.

Inherits the Void // The Silent Abscission [June 19th, 2026 – Avantgarde Music]

France’s Antoine Scholtès has been quite busy since forming his solo black metal project, Inherits the Void, in 2020. Thus Spoke had kind words for the previous two, 2023’s The Impending Fall of Stars and 2024’s Scars of Yesteryear, comparing the former to the atmospheric meloblack of Mare Cognitum. This time around, Scholtès brings along some friends, including Romain Negro (Apolaustic, ex-Stortregn) to helm the mic. Romain brings a much more aggressive blackened edge to the vocals, cracking with a relentless energy. Scholtès still contributes backing vocals, and a mysterious Nicolas S. sings cleans on a couple of tracks, including a great soaring bit on the finale, “Inherits the Void.” The Silent Abscission feels a touch more aggressive than what Inherits the Void generally plays. Between the blast beats, furious tremolos, and Romain’s blackened assault, there’s a sense of constant kinetic motion. It’s true that some of this stuff can blend together, but there’s plenty of great melodies to keep it enjoyable from start to finish. While Scholtès continues to use synths and arpeggios as brief reprieves from the blast beat attack, he also invites Kevon S. to play some sax (“Wrath of the Endless Sea,” “Inherits the Void”), bringing to mind Burial in the Sky or White Ward. The Silent Abscission is yet another impressive outing in Inherits the Void’s discography, with Scholtès showing that he’s willing to take some risks in order to make things more interesting.

Grin Reaper’s Nocturnal Nuggets

Hecate // Comment Est la Nuit? [June 12th, 2026 – Self Released]

Since forming in 2009, French ensemble Hecate has steadily released reliable and trve black metal. Fourth album Comment Est la Nuit?4 serves as my introduction to the act, and after visiting earlier albums I’m confident that their latest is their greatest (so far).5 Where debut Chronicles d’un Autre Temps sounds more modern (think 1349 or Watain), subsequent albums gravitate towards raw production that radiates early second-wave energy. Comment Est la Nuit? perpetuates this aesthetic, though Hecate adorns it with classical frills that I find irresistible, such as their seamless integration of piano, flute, and cello with gusts of piercing tremolos and grating rasps. Though Comment Est la Nuit? remains solidly rooted in black metal, the keys function as a core component like never before. Each time I listen, Hecate reveals new facets that only get better with familiarity. The intro to “Aubes aux pâles salives” begins with a beautiful piano refrain supported by clean guitars and a subtle bass thread before tumbling into distorted trems that bear the same melodic framework. Likewise, the range of “Hymne au clair de lune” batters listeners between scathing muscle and delicate respites. I don’t expect Comment Est la Nuit? to change opinions about black metal, but those who enjoy it will find Hecate has written an engrossing experience that wonderfully details the rhythms of the night.

Stormkeep // The Nocturnes of Iswylm [June 12th, 2026 – Vesperian]

Like many, I eagerly awaited a full-length follow-up to Stormkeep’s magnificent debut Tales of Othertime, uncertain if or when it would arrive. Because the band’s other projects consistently enrapture me (Wayfarer and Blood Incantation, in particular), I never worried whether the Denver, Colorado collective’s sophomore platter would satisfy the promises made by Othertime. And while I’m not convinced that The Nocturnes of Iswylm reaches the heights the debut, Stormkeep still unleashes goodies aplenty that litter Nocturnes three-quarters of an hour. Gone are the instrumentals from Tales of Othertime—instead, Stormkeep dials down the cinema in favor of more straightforward meloblack, although drama still seethes beneath the surface. String embellishments dot the arrangements (“The Taste of Immortal Blood,” “Imperious Sanguine Eroticism,” “Carnal Tapestries of Nailtorn Flesh”), imparting dramatic flair and a welcome dimension to Stormkeep’s fantastical atmosphere. And like the cover art, The Nocturnes of Iswylm embraces darker textures that wrestle in doleful gloom, engendering a subtler experience that took time to sink in and appreciate. While this approach doesn’t ply the same epic theatricality as the debut, The Nocturnes of Iswylm nonetheless worms its way into ears and hearts with nefarious glamours that crackle with danger.

Belarus Beaver // Grind af den Brune Bäfver [June 17th, 2026 – Self Released]

Sweden plays host to many metallic endeavors, and I often feel like I’m picking up secondhand geography lessons as a result of listening to its exports. Belarus Beaver, then, supplies a toofer, as they began their journey in melodeath mecca Gothenburg before settling down in Jönköping (also home to Hällas, Rexoria, and Narnia). Rather than progressive rock or power metal, though, Belarus Beaver obliterates listeners with a bucktoothed bombshell of devastating deathgrind that’s at once savagely br00tal and pure fun. Also, it’s all about beavers. On fourth album Grind af den Brune Bäfver, Belarus Beaver weaves together groove-laced blasts with industrial trimmings that recall a mixture of early Anaal Nathrakh (“I Want to Pet a Beaver”) and Exhumed (“Den Gnagande Plågan,” “Begravd i en Flod”). Occasionally, though, Grind af den Brune Bäfver reaches for a twist in their songwriting repertoire that uplifts the music, like the Eastern stringed instrument at the beginning of “Urbävern” or the unexpected melodic guitar support midway through “Mutated Beaver Moose.” These moments and others like them elevate Grind af den Brune Bäfver above sheer novelty, and if you’re not sold on Beaver fever, you’re missing out. So let your hair down and give yourself over to the Grind—it’s dam fun.

Creeping Ivy’s Classic Catch

Dead Kosmonaut // Retrospectre [June 26th, 2026 – Edged Circle Productions]

Dead Kosmonaut conceived a perfect title for their third album. Since 2014, this Swedish quintet has been molding traditional heavy metal hearkening to the late 70s and early 80s. This style—the first wave of metal itself—haunts any and every musician in the genre with aspirations of crafting something trve. With the specter of retro metal hanging over the band’s collective head, Retrospectre delivers 38 minutes of classic goodness, imbued with a somber longing. Dead Kosmonaut is a well-credentialed crew, starting with guitarists Fredrik Folkare (ex-Necrophobic) and Peter Hallgren (Sorcerer), who dole out irresistible guitarmonies and audacious solos in the spirit of Iron Maiden (“Out of the Shadow Rising”). The rhythm section, comprised of bassist Mattias Reinholdsson and drummer Henrik Johansson (both ex-Book of Hours), punches through the mix with power and a bit of grit (“Wake of Aquarius”). And of course, vocalist Per ‘Hellbutcher’ Gustavsson shines, trading his black metal bona fides for commanding cleans that drive some damn fine choruses (“View from the Future”). Lyrically, the album especially develops its theme of retrospection in the latter half, with songs about aging (“Eyes Grow Old”), defeat (“The Battle is Over”), and the inexorable march of time (“The Retrospectre”). Retrospectre will certainly scratch any itches for timeless, classic metal, but Dead Kosmonaut have enough talent, character, and craftmanship to make their third offering more than mere nostalgia.

WINTERING GROUNDS (Espanya) presenta nou EP: "Impasse" #WinteringGrounds #ProgressiveDeathMetal #Setembre2026 #Espanya #NouEp #Metall #Metal #MúsicaMetal #MetalMusic

WINTERING GROUNDS (Espanya) presenta nou EP: "Impasse" #WinteringGrounds #ProgressiveDeathMetal #Setembre2026 #Espanya #NouEp #Metall #Metal #MúsicaMetal #MetalMusic

FEBRUUS (Suècia) presenta nou àlbum: "Construction of Conflict" #Februus #ProgressiveDeathMetal #Setembre2026 #Suècia #NouÀlbum #Metall #Metal #MúsicaMetal #MetalMusic

FEBRUUS (Suècia) presenta nou àlbum: "Construction of Conflict" #Februus #ProgressiveDeathMetal #Setembre2026 #Suècia #NouÀlbum #Metall #Metal #MúsicaMetal #MetalMusic

https://www.europesays.com/uk/1186182/ Review: Shabti – Haze, Cacophony, and White Light #2026 #8 #August #BlackMetal #ContemnLightRecords #DeathMetal #EnglishLyrics #Entertainment #HarshVocals #Maine #MelodicBlackMetal #MelodicDeathMetal #music #ProgressiveDeathMetal #ProgressiveMetal #UK #UnitedKingdom #UnitedStates

SOLIPSY (Dinamarca) presenta nou àlbum: "Dissolution" #Solipsy #ProgressiveDeathMetal #Setembre2026 #Dinamarca #NouÀlbum #Metall #Metal #MúsicaMetal #MetalMusic

SOLIPSY (Dinamarca) presenta nou àlbum: "Dissolution" #Solipsy #ProgressiveDeathMetal #Setembre2026 #Dinamarca #NouÀlbum #Metall #Metal #MúsicaMetal #MetalMusic

Though Gorod began as a more conventional technical death metal outfit, progressive songwriting seeps deeper into their bones with each release. The 2010 additions of vocalist Julien Deyres and Nicolas Alberny augured this shift, as 2011’s Transcendence EP and 2012’s A Perfect Absolution encouraged unconventional song structures to complement the band’s knife-edged precision. In this way, I consider Gorod to be the stylistic antithesis of Archspire within technical death metal. Rather than going bigger and faster like the speed-freak Canucks, Gorod takes a more measured approach that, while brisk and exciting, tempers their dispatches with nuance and poise. Both bands succeed down their chosen paths, and the exercise of comparison isn’t about pitting them against one another as much as demonstrating the differences in how the genre can diverge. Given Gorod’s penchant for intricately crafted drama, can eighth album, The Ember Gone, rekindle their elegant allure?

Pivoting from Gorod’s recent theses of celestial bodies and the mythologies they inspire,1 The Ember Gone finds the French quintet examining more recent and pressing matters surrounding man’s role in ecological disasters. This theme carries an especially stark timeliness given the wildfires that broke out in southern France after the band began promoting The Ember Gone. Despite the change in prevailing inspiration, though, Gorod’s musical approach remains intact. Flurries of snaking riffs and clever bass countermelodies propel the album forward, this time adopting slinky grooves (“Regret,” “Ignite”) and reverb-saturated textures (“Forgiveness”) in addition to their expected acrobatics (“Remains”). Rest assured Gorod still reminds of Psycroptic, Augury, and Obscura, although this time around subdued undercurrents lighten The Ember Gone’s grandeur in favor of more intimate compositions.

On the surface, The Ember Gone doesn’t stray too far from the music of Æthra or The Orb. Guitar duo Mathieu Pascal and Nicolas Alberny unleash sidewinding flutters of perpetual riffs (“Signs,” “Remains”), occasionally relinquishing the fretboard gymnastics to build momentum with staccato chord bursts (“Devise”) or to instill emotion via delicate sustains (“Forgiveness,” “Ember”). Benoit Claus also commands attention with a sprightly bass performance, rarely content to play under what Pascal and Alberny construct. Instead, he pursues sinuous grooves that embolden Gorod’s stringed attack (“Devise,” “Ignite”). Deyres delivers an effective performance as well, especially on “Forgiveness” and “Regret,” as he unfurls stirring cleans that accompany his abrasive growls. Drummer Karol Diers likewise submits a solid outing, although he often falls into the background compared to his immediate and off-kilter patterns that made all-out brawlers “The Sentry,” “We Are the Sun Gods,” and “Breeding Silence” so explosive on prior albums.

Given how the same essential building blocks undergird Gorod’s recent releases, something feels like it’s missing from The Ember Gone. Æthra and The Orb dedicated runtimes to exploring various themes related to the moon and sun, and the music felt appropriately epic. With The Ember Gone’s thematic lens zooming in on humanity’s environmental negligence, the music too often dwells in melancholic lament. In fairness, this is an appropriate reaction, yet I yearn for some biblically righteous indignation that fans Ember’s flames into a raging inferno. Regardless, the music is unerringly gorgeous and feels richer than the DR 6 suggests, and every instrument sounds sinewy and potent while Deyres’s mix of clean and harsh vox cuts through. I’m also shocked at the number of plays I’ve accumulated over just a few days, and while part of that was born from necessity, I find myself drawn back to Gorod again and again.

Although The Ember Gone doesn’t reach the same heights as their other recent output, Gorod nonetheless delivers an invigorating dose of proggy tech death that should satisfy fans. In turns introspective and ferocious, The Ember Gone smolders with an understated confidence that stokes my appreciation higher with each listen. Evaluating it has presented an agonized challenge, as Gorod resolutely exemplifies what I love about both progressive and technical metal, yet I can’t escape the feeling that too much of The Ember Gone’s urgency is siphoned by restraint. Still, this review required a quick turnaround and even the little time I’ve spent with Gorod’s latest proves it’s a potent grower. Perhaps by the end of the year I’ll realize that The Ember Gone’s eminence was just a very slow burn.

Rating: Very Good!!
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Base Productions
Websites: Official | Facebook | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: August 28th, 2026

Though Gorod began as a more conventional technical death metal outfit, progressive songwriting seeps deeper into their bones with each release. The 2010 additions of vocalist Julien Deyres and Nicolas Alberny augured this shift, as 2011’s Transcendence EP and 2012’s A Perfect Absolution encouraged unconventional song structures to complement the band’s knife-edged precision. In this way, I consider Gorod to be the stylistic antithesis of Archspire within technical death metal. Rather than going bigger and faster like the speed-freak Canucks, Gorod takes a more measured approach that, while brisk and exciting, tempers their dispatches with nuance and poise. Both bands succeed down their chosen paths, and the exercise of comparison isn’t about pitting them against one another as much as demonstrating the differences in how the genre can diverge. Given Gorod’s penchant for intricately crafted drama, can eighth album, The Ember Gone, rekindle their elegant allure?

Pivoting from Gorod’s recent theses of celestial bodies and the mythologies they inspire,1 The Ember Gone finds the French quintet examining more recent and pressing matters surrounding man’s role in ecological disasters. This theme carries an especially stark timeliness given the wildfires that broke out in southern France after the band began promoting The Ember Gone. Despite the change in prevailing inspiration, though, Gorod’s musical approach remains intact. Flurries of snaking riffs and clever bass countermelodies propel the album forward, this time adopting slinky grooves (“Regret,” “Ignite”) and reverb-saturated textures (“Forgiveness”) in addition to their expected acrobatics (“Remains”). Rest assured Gorod still reminds of Psycroptic, Augury, and Obscura, although this time around subdued undercurrents lighten The Ember Gone’s grandeur in favor of more intimate compositions.

On the surface, The Ember Gone doesn’t stray too far from the music of Æthra or The Orb. Guitar duo Mathieu Pascal and Nicolas Alberny unleash sidewinding flutters of perpetual riffs (“Signs,” “Remains”), occasionally relinquishing the fretboard gymnastics to build momentum with staccato chord bursts (“Devise”) or to instill emotion via delicate sustains (“Forgiveness,” “Ember”). Benoit Claus also commands attention with a sprightly bass performance, rarely content to play under what Pascal and Alberny construct. Instead, he pursues sinuous grooves that embolden Gorod’s stringed attack (“Devise,” “Ignite”). Deyres delivers an effective performance as well, especially on “Forgiveness” and “Regret,” as he unfurls stirring cleans that accompany his abrasive growls. Drummer Karol Diers likewise submits a solid outing, although he often falls into the background compared to his immediate and off-kilter patterns that made all-out brawlers “The Sentry,” “We Are the Sun Gods,” and “Breeding Silence” so explosive on prior albums.

Given how the same essential building blocks undergird Gorod’s recent releases, something feels like it’s missing from The Ember Gone. Æthra and The Orb dedicated runtimes to exploring various themes related to the moon and sun, and the music felt appropriately epic. With The Ember Gone’s thematic lens zooming in on humanity’s environmental negligence, the music too often dwells in melancholic lament. In fairness, this is an appropriate reaction, yet I yearn for some biblically righteous indignation that fans Ember’s flames into a raging inferno. Regardless, the music is unerringly gorgeous and feels richer than the DR 6 suggests, and every instrument sounds sinewy and potent while Deyres’s mix of clean and harsh vox cuts through. I’m also shocked at the number of plays I’ve accumulated over just a few days, and while part of that was born from necessity, I find myself drawn back to Gorod again and again.

Although The Ember Gone doesn’t reach the same heights as their other recent output, Gorod nonetheless delivers an invigorating dose of proggy tech death that should satisfy fans. In turns introspective and ferocious, The Ember Gone smolders with an understated confidence that stokes my appreciation higher with each listen. Evaluating it has presented an agonized challenge, as Gorod resolutely exemplifies what I love about both progressive and technical metal, yet I can’t escape the feeling that too much of The Ember Gone’s urgency is siphoned by restraint. Still, this review required a quick turnaround and even the little time I’ve spent with Gorod’s latest proves it’s a potent grower. Perhaps by the end of the year I’ll realize that The Ember Gone’s eminence was just a very slow burn.

Rating: Very Good!!
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Base Productions
Websites: Official | Facebook | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: August 28th, 2026

Though Gorod began as a more conventional technical death metal outfit, progressive songwriting seeps deeper into their bones with each release. The 2010 additions of vocalist Julien Deyres and Nicolas Alberny augured this shift, as 2011’s Transcendence EP and 2012’s A Perfect Absolution encouraged unconventional song structures to complement the band’s knife-edged precision. In this way, I consider Gorod to be the stylistic antithesis of Archspire within technical death metal. Rather than going bigger and faster like the speed-freak Canucks, Gorod takes a more measured approach that, while brisk and exciting, tempers their dispatches with nuance and poise. Both bands succeed down their chosen paths, and the exercise of comparison isn’t about pitting them against one another as much as demonstrating the differences in how the genre can diverge. Given Gorod’s penchant for intricately crafted drama, can eighth album, The Ember Gone, rekindle their elegant allure?

Pivoting from Gorod’s recent theses of celestial bodies and the mythologies they inspire,1 The Ember Gone finds the French quintet examining more recent and pressing matters surrounding man’s role in ecological disasters. This theme carries an especially stark timeliness given the wildfires that broke out in southern France after the band began promoting The Ember Gone. Despite the change in prevailing inspiration, though, Gorod’s musical approach remains intact. Flurries of snaking riffs and clever bass countermelodies propel the album forward, this time adopting slinky grooves (“Regret,” “Ignite”) and reverb-saturated textures (“Forgiveness”) in addition to their expected acrobatics (“Remains”). Rest assured Gorod still reminds of Psycroptic, Augury, and Obscura, although this time around subdued undercurrents lighten The Ember Gone’s grandeur in favor of more intimate compositions.

On the surface, The Ember Gone doesn’t stray too far from the music of Æthra or The Orb. Guitar duo Mathieu Pascal and Nicolas Alberny unleash sidewinding flutters of perpetual riffs (“Signs,” “Remains”), occasionally relinquishing the fretboard gymnastics to build momentum with staccato chord bursts (“Devise”) or to instill emotion via delicate sustains (“Forgiveness,” “Ember”). Benoit Claus also commands attention with a sprightly bass performance, rarely content to play under what Pascal and Alberny construct. Instead, he pursues sinuous grooves that embolden Gorod’s stringed attack (“Devise,” “Ignite”). Deyres delivers an effective performance as well, especially on “Forgiveness” and “Regret,” as he unfurls stirring cleans that accompany his abrasive growls. Drummer Karol Diers likewise submits a solid outing, although he often falls into the background compared to his immediate and off-kilter patterns that made all-out brawlers “The Sentry,” “We Are the Sun Gods,” and “Breeding Silence” so explosive on prior albums.

Given how the same essential building blocks undergird Gorod’s recent releases, something feels like it’s missing from The Ember Gone. Æthra and The Orb dedicated runtimes to exploring various themes related to the moon and sun, and the music felt appropriately epic. With The Ember Gone’s thematic lens zooming in on humanity’s environmental negligence, the music too often dwells in melancholic lament. In fairness, this is an appropriate reaction, yet I yearn for some biblically righteous indignation that fans Ember’s flames into a raging inferno. Regardless, the music is unerringly gorgeous and feels richer than the DR 6 suggests, and every instrument sounds sinewy and potent while Deyres’s mix of clean and harsh vox cuts through. I’m also shocked at the number of plays I’ve accumulated over just a few days, and while part of that was born from necessity, I find myself drawn back to Gorod again and again.

Although The Ember Gone doesn’t reach the same heights as their other recent output, Gorod nonetheless delivers an invigorating dose of proggy tech death that should satisfy fans. In turns introspective and ferocious, The Ember Gone smolders with an understated confidence that stokes my appreciation higher with each listen. Evaluating it has presented an agonized challenge, as Gorod resolutely exemplifies what I love about both progressive and technical metal, yet I can’t escape the feeling that too much of The Ember Gone’s urgency is siphoned by restraint. Still, this review required a quick turnaround and even the little time I’ve spent with Gorod’s latest proves it’s a potent grower. Perhaps by the end of the year I’ll realize that The Ember Gone’s eminence was just a very slow burn.

Rating: Very Good!!
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Base Productions
Websites: Official | Facebook | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: August 28th, 2026

Though Gorod began as a more conventional technical death metal outfit, progressive songwriting seeps deeper into their bones with each release. The 2010 additions of vocalist Julien Deyres and Nicolas Alberny augured this shift, as 2011’s Transcendence EP and 2012’s A Perfect Absolution encouraged unconventional song structures to complement the band’s knife-edged precision. In this way, I consider Gorod to be the stylistic antithesis of Archspire within technical death metal. Rather than going bigger and faster like the speed-freak Canucks, Gorod takes a more measured approach that, while brisk and exciting, tempers their dispatches with nuance and poise. Both bands succeed down their chosen paths, and the exercise of comparison isn’t about pitting them against one another as much as demonstrating the differences in how the genre can diverge. Given Gorod’s penchant for intricately crafted drama, can eighth album, The Ember Gone, rekindle their elegant allure?

Pivoting from Gorod’s recent theses of celestial bodies and the mythologies they inspire,1 The Ember Gone finds the French quintet examining more recent and pressing matters surrounding man’s role in ecological disasters. This theme carries an especially stark timeliness given the wildfires that broke out in southern France after the band began promoting The Ember Gone. Despite the change in prevailing inspiration, though, Gorod’s musical approach remains intact. Flurries of snaking riffs and clever bass countermelodies propel the album forward, this time adopting slinky grooves (“Regret,” “Ignite”) and reverb-saturated textures (“Forgiveness”) in addition to their expected acrobatics (“Remains”). Rest assured Gorod still reminds of Psycroptic, Augury, and Obscura, although this time around subdued undercurrents lighten The Ember Gone’s grandeur in favor of more intimate compositions.

On the surface, The Ember Gone doesn’t stray too far from the music of Æthra or The Orb. Guitar duo Mathieu Pascal and Nicolas Alberny unleash sidewinding flutters of perpetual riffs (“Signs,” “Remains”), occasionally relinquishing the fretboard gymnastics to build momentum with staccato chord bursts (“Devise”) or to instill emotion via delicate sustains (“Forgiveness,” “Ember”). Benoit Claus also commands attention with a sprightly bass performance, rarely content to play under what Pascal and Alberny construct. Instead, he pursues sinuous grooves that embolden Gorod’s stringed attack (“Devise,” “Ignite”). Deyres delivers an effective performance as well, especially on “Forgiveness” and “Regret,” as he unfurls stirring cleans that accompany his abrasive growls. Drummer Karol Diers likewise submits a solid outing, although he often falls into the background compared to his immediate and off-kilter patterns that made all-out brawlers “The Sentry,” “We Are the Sun Gods,” and “Breeding Silence” so explosive on prior albums.

Given how the same essential building blocks undergird Gorod’s recent releases, something feels like it’s missing from The Ember Gone. Æthra and The Orb dedicated runtimes to exploring various themes related to the moon and sun, and the music felt appropriately epic. With The Ember Gone’s thematic lens zooming in on humanity’s environmental negligence, the music too often dwells in melancholic lament. In fairness, this is an appropriate reaction, yet I yearn for some biblically righteous indignation that fans Ember’s flames into a raging inferno. Regardless, the music is unerringly gorgeous and feels richer than the DR 6 suggests, and every instrument sounds sinewy and potent while Deyres’s mix of clean and harsh vox cuts through. I’m also shocked at the number of plays I’ve accumulated over just a few days, and while part of that was born from necessity, I find myself drawn back to Gorod again and again.

Although The Ember Gone doesn’t reach the same heights as their other recent output, Gorod nonetheless delivers an invigorating dose of proggy tech death that should satisfy fans. In turns introspective and ferocious, The Ember Gone smolders with an understated confidence that stokes my appreciation higher with each listen. Evaluating it has presented an agonized challenge, as Gorod resolutely exemplifies what I love about both progressive and technical metal, yet I can’t escape the feeling that too much of The Ember Gone’s urgency is siphoned by restraint. Still, this review required a quick turnaround and even the little time I’ve spent with Gorod’s latest proves it’s a potent grower. Perhaps by the end of the year I’ll realize that The Ember Gone’s eminence was just a very slow burn.

Rating: Very Good!!
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Base Productions
Websites: Official | Facebook | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: August 28th, 2026

MYSTICAL DEATH (Països Baixos) presenta nou single: "Inundant" #MysticalDeath #Technical #ProgressiveDeathMetal #Agost2026 #PaïsosBaixos #NouSingle #Metall #Metal #MúsicaMetal #MetalMusic

MYSTICAL DEATH (Països Baixos) presenta nou single: "Inundant" #MysticalDeath #Technical #ProgressiveDeathMetal #Agost2026 #PaïsosBaixos #NouSingle #Metall #Metal #MúsicaMetal #MetalMusic

Review: Coma Control – Shed the Sleep

Published by Clay on 2026/08/292026/08/29 Artwork by Tapio Honka Style: Progressive metal, progressive death metal (mixed vocals)Recommended for…
#NewsBeep #News #US #USA #UnitedStates #UnitedStatesOfAmerica #Music #2026 #8 #august #english #Entertainment #Finland #independent #mixedvocals #ProgressiveDeathMetal #ProgressiveMetal
https://www.newsbeep.com/us/829957/

The new Gorod sounds good, as expected. Give it a listen.

https://tidal.com/album/538337854/u

#ProgressiveDeathMetal #ProgressiveMetal #Metal #NewAlbum

The new Gorod sounds good, as expected. Give it a listen.

https://tidal.com/album/538337854/u

#ProgressiveDeathMetal #ProgressiveMetal #Metal #NewAlbum

SHABTI (Estats Units) presenta nou àlbum: "Haze, Cacophony, and White Light" #Shabti #ProgressiveDeathMetal #Agost2026 #EstatsUnits #NouÀlbum #Metall #Metal #MúsicaMetal #MetalMusic

SHABTI (Estats Units) presenta nou àlbum: "Haze, Cacophony, and White Light" #Shabti #ProgressiveDeathMetal #Agost2026 #EstatsUnits #NouÀlbum #Metall #Metal #MúsicaMetal #MetalMusic

COMA CONTROL (Finlàndia) presenta nou àlbum: "Shed the Sleep" #ComaControl #ProgressiveDeathMetal #Agost2026 #Finlàndia #NouÀlbum #Metall #Metal #MúsicaMetal #MetalMusic

COMA CONTROL (Finlàndia) presenta nou àlbum: "Shed the Sleep" #ComaControl #ProgressiveDeathMetal #Agost2026 #Finlàndia #NouÀlbum #Metall #Metal #MúsicaMetal #MetalMusic

Hell yeah

#Iapetus: The Mother Void

https://iapetus1.bandcamp.com/album/the-mother-void

#ProgressiveDeathMetal

FFO #AnAbstractIllusion #NeObliviscaris #EyeOfPurgatory

Hell yeah

#Iapetus: The Mother Void

https://iapetus1.bandcamp.com/album/the-mother-void

#ProgressiveDeathMetal

FFO #AnAbstractIllusion #NeObliviscaris #EyeOfPurgatory

Hell yeah

#Iapetus: The Mother Void

https://iapetus1.bandcamp.com/album/the-mother-void

#ProgressiveDeathMetal

FFO #AnAbstractIllusion #NeObliviscaris #EyeOfPurgatory

SOLIPSY (Dinamarca) presenta nou single: "Epitaph" #Solipsy #ProgressiveDeathMetal #Juliol2026 #Dinamarca #NouSingle #Metall #Metal #MúsicaMetal #MetalMusic

SOLIPSY (Dinamarca) presenta nou single: "Epitaph" #Solipsy #ProgressiveDeathMetal #Juliol2026 #Dinamarca #NouSingle #Metall #Metal #MúsicaMetal #MetalMusic

MYSTICAL DEATH (Països Baixos) presenta nou single: "Apophenia" #MysticalDeath #Technical #ProgressiveDeathMetal #Juliol2026 #PaïsosBaixos #NouSingle #Metall #Metal #MúsicaMetal #MetalMusic

CONVULSE (Finlàndia) presenta nou recopilatori: "From Resuscitation to Reincarnation" #Convulse #DeathMetal #DeathNRoll #ProgressiveDeathMetal #Juliol2026 #Finlàndia #NouRecopilatori #Metall #Metal #MúsicaMetal #MetalMusic

SIDEREAN (Eslovènia) presenta nova demo: "30,000 Cycles" #Siderean #ProgressiveDeathMetal #Juliol2026 #Eslovènia #NovaDemo #Metall #Metal #MúsicaMetal #MetalMusic

PESTILENCE (Països Baixos) presenta nou recopilatori: "The Early Relics" #Pestilence #DeathMetal #ThrashMetal #ProgressiveDeathMetal #Juliol2026 #PaïsosBaixos #NouRecopilatori #Metall #Metal #MúsicaMetal #MetalMusic

SALLOW MOTH (Estats Units) presenta nou àlbum: "Hydrophilous Brood" #SallowMoth #ProgressiveDeathMetal #Juliol2026 #EstatsUnits #NouÀlbum #Metall #Metal #MúsicaMetal #MetalMusic

Less than a year after delivering one of my favorite albums of 2025,1 Sallow Moth flutters in to unload another monstrous helping of progressive death metal. Thematically, Hydrophilous Brood continues exploring the quantum entanglements of the Mossbane Lantern, a capriciously powerful artifact that can transport users across planes of existence—often with horrific consequences. I thoroughly enjoyed this backdrop on Mossbane Lantern, and learning that Sallow Moth’s new platter would once again fathom the inscrutable fickleness of the Lantern made me equal parts giddy and nervous. With expectations unfairly inflated, I slipped off my skivvies to bathe in the marvels of Hydrophilous Brood.

Compared to Mossbane Lantern, Hydrophilous Brood luxuriates in murkier, more organic tones than its predecessor. Largely, the differences between them condense into two observations. First, Garry Brents’ addition of drummer Allen Gingerich pays off big time. Second, most of the electronic embellishments heard on Mossbane Lantern have dwindled significantly, even though their spirit periodically reemerges via guitar or bass reprisals. What stands out most against Mossbane Lantern is the new LP’s commitment to more traditional instrumentation, even if the compositions themselves remain wildly unpredictable. Rather than abrupt shifts between crushing death metal, trip hop shimmers, and electronica-infused breaks, Hydrophilous Brood suggests most of these moods without pulling the rug out from listeners, and the end result impresses with more streamlined, delightfully lawless musical hooliganism.

Performance-wise, Sallow Moth doesn’t miss a beat as Brents and Gingerich glide through Hydrophilous Brood’s runtime. Most immediately, Gingerich’s drums supply an enormous boost to Sallow Moth’s compositions. The percussive elements on Mossbane Lantern never disappointed, yet Hydrophilous Brood quickly reinforces the magic that a skilled technician can add. Robotic rolls and precision snare abuse (“Driftmoth Vivisector”) may give the impression of programmed drums, but Gingerich also imparts slick sticksmanship and jazzy spasms (“Polymorphic Gnaw,” “Serene Aqueous Leech”) that leave me reeling with whiplashing wonder. In addition to the drums, Gingerich discharges a couple of guitar solos on “Arcane Benthic Umbilicus” and “Polymorphic Gnaw” that hew closer to more traditional fretwork, adding further depth to Sallow Moth’s arrangements. Brents, meanwhile, rekindles the aural anarchy from Mossbane Lantern, especially the crisply shred-infested riffing interspersed with brief passages of Cynical bass noodling and subtle synth atmospherics. Vocally, Brents strikes with a varied attack, assaulting listeners with brown-note toilet burps in line with this year’s Lureplasm (“Nebulous Appendages of Vacillant Seafoam,” “Polymorphic Gnaw”),2 aggrieved caveman roars (“Arcane Benthic Umbilicus”), and several brief guest cameos, including Corey Peterson (Thætas) and Evan Sadler (Labyrinthine Heirs).

In all, Sallow Moth throws a dizzying spread of instrumentation at listeners, making Hydrophilous Brood so dense and tangled that it can be difficult to navigate at first. It’s a bit like a several-thousand-piece puzzle, where the first listen is just flipping all the pieces over the right way. With more time, though, the album takes shape and reveals the overarching vision beneath the madness. Melodic phrases regularly trade the spotlight with tumultuous chugs and squealing guitars, never allowing songs to lock in before lurching to the next. I understand how it can be jarring, but catching the quick-flitting melodies as they dance to the fore then fade into the background without dissipating altogether demands appreciation. Thematically, the whimsical nature of the Mossbane Lantern artifact persists on Hydrophilous Brood, exerting wicked fun throughout.

After delivering one of my favorite death metal slabs of 2025, Sallow Moth follows up with another gloriously depraved contender. As I reflect on the music I’ve loved over the last couple of years, I find that what appeals to me mostly falls into one of two camps: flawless executions of proven recipes and novel explorations of metal. Sallow Moth lands squarely in the latter, and though novelty for its own sake often falls flat, the stories embedded within Hydrophilous Brood amplify the music, giving form to its chaos. Sure, there are things I miss from Mossbane Lantern, particularly the electronica-infused injections, and there are things I wish had been utilized more, like Ola’s noir-coded trumpet on “Serene Aqueous Leech.” Yet in the end, my critical comments mostly boil down to what I wish they’d done more of rather than faulting what they did. It takes patience to unravel and appreciate Sallow Moth’s latest, but after marinating in its waters for spins on end, I’m unashamedly glued to the Brood.

Rating: Great
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Willowtip Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: July 24th, 2026

Less than a year after delivering one of my favorite albums of 2025,1 Sallow Moth flutters in to unload another monstrous helping of progressive death metal. Thematically, Hydrophilous Brood continues exploring the quantum entanglements of the Mossbane Lantern, a capriciously powerful artifact that can transport users across planes of existence—often with horrific consequences. I thoroughly enjoyed this backdrop on Mossbane Lantern, and learning that Sallow Moth’s new platter would once again fathom the inscrutable fickleness of the Lantern made me equal parts giddy and nervous. With expectations unfairly inflated, I slipped off my skivvies to bathe in the marvels of Hydrophilous Brood.

Compared to Mossbane Lantern, Hydrophilous Brood luxuriates in murkier, more organic tones than its predecessor. Largely, the differences between them condense into two observations. First, Garry Brents’ addition of drummer Allen Gingerich pays off big time. Second, most of the electronic embellishments heard on Mossbane Lantern have dwindled significantly, even though their spirit periodically reemerges via guitar or bass reprisals. What stands out most against Mossbane Lantern is the new LP’s commitment to more traditional instrumentation, even if the compositions themselves remain wildly unpredictable. Rather than abrupt shifts between crushing death metal, trip hop shimmers, and electronica-infused breaks, Hydrophilous Brood suggests most of these moods without pulling the rug out from listeners, and the end result impresses with more streamlined, delightfully lawless musical hooliganism.

Performance-wise, Sallow Moth doesn’t miss a beat as Brents and Gingerich glide through Hydrophilous Brood’s runtime. Most immediately, Gingerich’s drums supply an enormous boost to Sallow Moth’s compositions. The percussive elements on Mossbane Lantern never disappointed, yet Hydrophilous Brood quickly reinforces the magic that a skilled technician can add. Robotic rolls and precision snare abuse (“Driftmoth Vivisector”) may give the impression of programmed drums, but Gingerich also imparts slick sticksmanship and jazzy spasms (“Polymorphic Gnaw,” “Serene Aqueous Leech”) that leave me reeling with whiplashing wonder. In addition to the drums, Gingerich discharges a couple of guitar solos on “Arcane Benthic Umbilicus” and “Polymorphic Gnaw” that hew closer to more traditional fretwork, adding further depth to Sallow Moth’s arrangements. Brents, meanwhile, rekindles the aural anarchy from Mossbane Lantern, especially the crisply shred-infested riffing interspersed with brief passages of Cynical bass noodling and subtle synth atmospherics. Vocally, Brents strikes with a varied attack, assaulting listeners with brown-note toilet burps in line with this year’s Lureplasm (“Nebulous Appendages of Vacillant Seafoam,” “Polymorphic Gnaw”),2 aggrieved caveman roars (“Arcane Benthic Umbilicus”), and several brief guest cameos, including Corey Peterson (Thætas) and Evan Sadler (Labyrinthine Heirs).

In all, Sallow Moth throws a dizzying spread of instrumentation at listeners, making Hydrophilous Brood so dense and tangled that it can be difficult to navigate at first. It’s a bit like a several-thousand-piece puzzle, where the first listen is just flipping all the pieces over the right way. With more time, though, the album takes shape and reveals the overarching vision beneath the madness. Melodic phrases regularly trade the spotlight with tumultuous chugs and squealing guitars, never allowing songs to lock in before lurching to the next. I understand how it can be jarring, but catching the quick-flitting melodies as they dance to the fore then fade into the background without dissipating altogether demands appreciation. Thematically, the whimsical nature of the Mossbane Lantern artifact persists on Hydrophilous Brood, exerting wicked fun throughout.

After delivering one of my favorite death metal slabs of 2025, Sallow Moth follows up with another gloriously depraved contender. As I reflect on the music I’ve loved over the last couple of years, I find that what appeals to me mostly falls into one of two camps: flawless executions of proven recipes and novel explorations of metal. Sallow Moth lands squarely in the latter, and though novelty for its own sake often falls flat, the stories embedded within Hydrophilous Brood amplify the music, giving form to its chaos. Sure, there are things I miss from Mossbane Lantern, particularly the electronica-infused injections, and there are things I wish had been utilized more, like Ola’s noir-coded trumpet on “Serene Aqueous Leech.” Yet in the end, my critical comments mostly boil down to what I wish they’d done more of rather than faulting what they did. It takes patience to unravel and appreciate Sallow Moth’s latest, but after marinating in its waters for spins on end, I’m unashamedly glued to the Brood.

Rating: Great
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Willowtip Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: July 24th, 2026

Less than a year after delivering one of my favorite albums of 2025,1 Sallow Moth flutters in to unload another monstrous helping of progressive death metal. Thematically, Hydrophilous Brood continues exploring the quantum entanglements of the Mossbane Lantern, a capriciously powerful artifact that can transport users across planes of existence—often with horrific consequences. I thoroughly enjoyed this backdrop on Mossbane Lantern, and learning that Sallow Moth’s new platter would once again fathom the inscrutable fickleness of the Lantern made me equal parts giddy and nervous. With expectations unfairly inflated, I slipped off my skivvies to bathe in the marvels of Hydrophilous Brood.

Compared to Mossbane Lantern, Hydrophilous Brood luxuriates in murkier, more organic tones than its predecessor. Largely, the differences between them condense into two observations. First, Garry Brents’ addition of drummer Allen Gingerich pays off big time. Second, most of the electronic embellishments heard on Mossbane Lantern have dwindled significantly, even though their spirit periodically reemerges via guitar or bass reprisals. What stands out most against Mossbane Lantern is the new LP’s commitment to more traditional instrumentation, even if the compositions themselves remain wildly unpredictable. Rather than abrupt shifts between crushing death metal, trip hop shimmers, and electronica-infused breaks, Hydrophilous Brood suggests most of these moods without pulling the rug out from listeners, and the end result impresses with more streamlined, delightfully lawless musical hooliganism.

Performance-wise, Sallow Moth doesn’t miss a beat as Brents and Gingerich glide through Hydrophilous Brood’s runtime. Most immediately, Gingerich’s drums supply an enormous boost to Sallow Moth’s compositions. The percussive elements on Mossbane Lantern never disappointed, yet Hydrophilous Brood quickly reinforces the magic that a skilled technician can add. Robotic rolls and precision snare abuse (“Driftmoth Vivisector”) may give the impression of programmed drums, but Gingerich also imparts slick sticksmanship and jazzy spasms (“Polymorphic Gnaw,” “Serene Aqueous Leech”) that leave me reeling with whiplashing wonder. In addition to the drums, Gingerich discharges a couple of guitar solos on “Arcane Benthic Umbilicus” and “Polymorphic Gnaw” that hew closer to more traditional fretwork, adding further depth to Sallow Moth’s arrangements. Brents, meanwhile, rekindles the aural anarchy from Mossbane Lantern, especially the crisply shred-infested riffing interspersed with brief passages of Cynical bass noodling and subtle synth atmospherics. Vocally, Brents strikes with a varied attack, assaulting listeners with brown-note toilet burps in line with this year’s Lureplasm (“Nebulous Appendages of Vacillant Seafoam,” “Polymorphic Gnaw”),2 aggrieved caveman roars (“Arcane Benthic Umbilicus”), and several brief guest cameos, including Corey Peterson (Thætas) and Evan Sadler (Labyrinthine Heirs).

In all, Sallow Moth throws a dizzying spread of instrumentation at listeners, making Hydrophilous Brood so dense and tangled that it can be difficult to navigate at first. It’s a bit like a several-thousand-piece puzzle, where the first listen is just flipping all the pieces over the right way. With more time, though, the album takes shape and reveals the overarching vision beneath the madness. Melodic phrases regularly trade the spotlight with tumultuous chugs and squealing guitars, never allowing songs to lock in before lurching to the next. I understand how it can be jarring, but catching the quick-flitting melodies as they dance to the fore then fade into the background without dissipating altogether demands appreciation. Thematically, the whimsical nature of the Mossbane Lantern artifact persists on Hydrophilous Brood, exerting wicked fun throughout.

After delivering one of my favorite death metal slabs of 2025, Sallow Moth follows up with another gloriously depraved contender. As I reflect on the music I’ve loved over the last couple of years, I find that what appeals to me mostly falls into one of two camps: flawless executions of proven recipes and novel explorations of metal. Sallow Moth lands squarely in the latter, and though novelty for its own sake often falls flat, the stories embedded within Hydrophilous Brood amplify the music, giving form to its chaos. Sure, there are things I miss from Mossbane Lantern, particularly the electronica-infused injections, and there are things I wish had been utilized more, like Ola’s noir-coded trumpet on “Serene Aqueous Leech.” Yet in the end, my critical comments mostly boil down to what I wish they’d done more of rather than faulting what they did. It takes patience to unravel and appreciate Sallow Moth’s latest, but after marinating in its waters for spins on end, I’m unashamedly glued to the Brood.

Rating: Great
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Willowtip Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: July 24th, 2026

A.M. tunage. https://blood-music.bandcamp.com/album/infinite-fields

#ThursDeath #IrreversibleMechanism #ProgressiveDeathMetal

A.M. tunage. https://blood-music.bandcamp.com/album/infinite-fields

#ThursDeath #IrreversibleMechanism #ProgressiveDeathMetal

Not many bands can craft as characteristic an aura as Fires in the Distance. Their dreamy melodicism yet grounded weight lend their music an instantly recognizable and powerfully uplifting tone. Debut Echoes from Deep November already shimmered with the promise of something special, and 2023 sophomore Air Not Meant for Us more than made good on this promise, gliding effortlessly into my top 5 for that year. At this point in a band’s career, one might start to fear a slip in quality—a complacent settling into an easy and familiar groove—where the magic fades a little. One might, but in my case, this was somewhat eclipsed by the glittering stars that filled my eyes when Circadian Promise appeared on the horizon. Returning to the paradigm of mental health, rendered through the imagery of flight and freedom, Fires in the Distance console even the most timorous of hearts and deliver once again.

Everything uniquely great about Fires in the Distance is back on full display in Circadian Promise, and more besides. The sparkling arias of keyboards gain strength on the backs of soaring lead guitars and the steadfast heft of bass and drum. Synths subtly decorate the soundscape with just a touch of drama. Dynamic, steady tempos propel you forward. But Fires in the Distance don’t rest in the surety of this admittedly winning formula. New vocalist Brendan Hayter1 uses his savage screams to inject a new intensity to the heaviness and amplifies already stirring passages with hearty cleans—first of their kind for the band. The keyboards also see a renaissance of sorts with extended moments in the spotlight (“Lightless Days of a Songless Bird,” “Once the Silence Takes Your Place”), and solos stretch further towards the epic (“By this Time Tomorrow”). This evolution remains entirely natural. Whatever fierceness seizes the percussion or harsh vocals, the music remains easily compelling and distinctively rousing. Similarly, the singing never pushes songs even close to the saccharine boundary; their emotionality is perfectly pitched.

Fires in the Distance set a high bar with their previous work, but somehow Circadian Promise clears it. The music demonstrates a mature exploration of tension and contrast, shifting slightly away from doom and back towards melodeath, playing with the duality of clean and harsh vocals, folding the fragile and the fierce into potent progressions. Songs might use an ardently sung bridge to allow a melancholic theme to provide tangible closure (“Of Radiance and Levitation,” “To You, the Author of my Fade”), or show vulnerability beside a heavier counterpart to the rhythm and melody (“Once the Silence…”). Just as much emotion comes from the ardent screams that ring over turbulent drums (“Once the Silence…”) or rise in tandem with tremolo-picked or swiftly arpeggio-ing riffs (“Lightless Days…,” “Agonal Dreaming”). Every refrain is just as deceptively simple, memorable, and lovely as ever, but with the increased dynamism, they shine still brighter. Layered transitions through synths and piano (“Lightless Days…,” “By This Time Tomorrow,” “Once the Silence…”) seamlessly weave movements together. Fluid, energetic drumming shapes the soundscape with bolstering fills and assertive rolls into steady, sweeping ascents (“Of Radiance…,” ), rocky climbs (“Once the Silence…” “Agonal Dreaming”), and endless onward glides (“By this Time Tomorrow”), metaphorically embodying their themes. As a result, they hit harder and stick longer.

Circadian Promise is also made more compelling by its structure. Almost the same length to the second as Air Not Meant for Us, it uses its time better, eschewing instrumental interludes and long intros and crafting long songs with assured builds (“Of Radiance…”, “Lightless Days…”), moving reprises (“To You,…” “Agonal Dreaming”), and thrillingly layered evolutions (“To You…,” “Once the Silence…”).2 “Lightless Days…” is possibly the only candidate for a trim, weakened slightly by its itineracy. Whilst being in many ways more dramatic and heavy than prior releases, it’s simultaneously more reflective thanks to a slight lilt in the tunes and openness in the cleans, and some fantastic keyboard-centred passages, integrated beautifully into the metal (“Of Radiance…,” “By this Time Tomorrow”). This heightened reflectiveness also shows up through Fires in the Distance’s substitution for pithy Christopher Hitchens with the rather more introspective Alan Watts (“By this Time Tomorrow”) in the role of sampled British intellectual.

To those who previously felt Fires in the Distance’s brand of melodeath too airy to be impactful, Circadian Promise may be the album that shows you the light. Bolstered and tempered with a more striking heaviness and passionate cleans, the characteristically stirring beauty of the melodies sings louder and warmer than before. Circadian Promise fully becomes its concept as its powerful pieces coalesce into a fortifying tonic you surely can’t resist, lifting your spirits, and Fire in the Distance themselves, up into the stratosphere.

Rating: Excellent
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Prosthetic Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: June 12th, 2026

#2026 #45 #AmericanMetal #CircadianPromise #DeathMetal #DoomMetal #FiresInTheDistance #Jun26 #MelodicDeathMetal #ProgressiveDeathMetal #ProstheticRecords #Review #Reviews

Not many bands can craft as characteristic an aura as Fires in the Distance. Their dreamy melodicism yet grounded weight lend their music an instantly recognizable and powerfully uplifting tone. Debut Echoes from Deep November already shimmered with the promise of something special, and 2023 sophomore Air Not Meant for Us more than made good on this promise, gliding effortlessly into my top 5 for that year. At this point in a band’s career, one might start to fear a slip in quality—a complacent settling into an easy and familiar groove—where the magic fades a little. One might, but in my case, this was somewhat eclipsed by the glittering stars that filled my eyes when Circadian Promise appeared on the horizon. Returning to the paradigm of mental health, rendered through the imagery of flight and freedom, Fires in the Distance console even the most timorous of hearts and deliver once again.

Everything uniquely great about Fires in the Distance is back on full display in Circadian Promise, and more besides. The sparkling arias of keyboards gain strength on the backs of soaring lead guitars and the steadfast heft of bass and drum. Synths subtly decorate the soundscape with just a touch of drama. Dynamic, steady tempos propel you forward. But Fires in the Distance don’t rest in the surety of this admittedly winning formula. New vocalist Brendan Hayter1 uses his savage screams to inject a new intensity to the heaviness and amplifies already stirring passages with hearty cleans—first of their kind for the band. The keyboards also see a renaissance of sorts with extended moments in the spotlight (“Lightless Days of a Songless Bird,” “Once the Silence Takes Your Place”), and solos stretch further towards the epic (“By this Time Tomorrow”). This evolution remains entirely natural. Whatever fierceness seizes the percussion or harsh vocals, the music remains easily compelling and distinctively rousing. Similarly, the singing never pushes songs even close to the saccharine boundary; their emotionality is perfectly pitched.

Fires in the Distance set a high bar with their previous work, but somehow Circadian Promise clears it. The music demonstrates a mature exploration of tension and contrast, shifting slightly away from doom and back towards melodeath, playing with the duality of clean and harsh vocals, folding the fragile and the fierce into potent progressions. Songs might use an ardently sung bridge to allow a melancholic theme to provide tangible closure (“Of Radiance and Levitation,” “To You, the Author of my Fade”), or show vulnerability beside a heavier counterpart to the rhythm and melody (“Once the Silence…”). Just as much emotion comes from the ardent screams that ring over turbulent drums (“Once the Silence…”) or rise in tandem with tremolo-picked or swiftly arpeggio-ing riffs (“Lightless Days…,” “Agonal Dreaming”). Every refrain is just as deceptively simple, memorable, and lovely as ever, but with the increased dynamism, they shine still brighter. Layered transitions through synths and piano (“Lightless Days…,” “By This Time Tomorrow,” “Once the Silence…”) seamlessly weave movements together. Fluid, energetic drumming shapes the soundscape with bolstering fills and assertive rolls into steady, sweeping ascents (“Of Radiance…,” ), rocky climbs (“Once the Silence…” “Agonal Dreaming”), and endless onward glides (“By this Time Tomorrow”), metaphorically embodying their themes. As a result, they hit harder and stick longer.

Circadian Promise is also made more compelling by its structure. Almost the same length to the second as Air Not Meant for Us, it uses its time better, eschewing instrumental interludes and long intros and crafting long songs with assured builds (“Of Radiance…”, “Lightless Days…”), moving reprises (“To You,…” “Agonal Dreaming”), and thrillingly layered evolutions (“To You…,” “Once the Silence…”).2 “Lightless Days…” is possibly the only candidate for a trim, weakened slightly by its itineracy. Whilst being in many ways more dramatic and heavy than prior releases, it’s simultaneously more reflective thanks to a slight lilt in the tunes and openness in the cleans, and some fantastic keyboard-centred passages, integrated beautifully into the metal (“Of Radiance…,” “By this Time Tomorrow”). This heightened reflectiveness also shows up through Fires in the Distance’s substitution for pithy Christopher Hitchens with the rather more introspective Alan Watts (“By this Time Tomorrow”) in the role of sampled British intellectual.

To those who previously felt Fires in the Distance’s brand of melodeath too airy to be impactful, Circadian Promise may be the album that shows you the light. Bolstered and tempered with a more striking heaviness and passionate cleans, the characteristically stirring beauty of the melodies sings louder and warmer than before. Circadian Promise fully becomes its concept as its powerful pieces coalesce into a fortifying tonic you surely can’t resist, lifting your spirits, and Fire in the Distance themselves, up into the stratosphere.

Rating: Excellent
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Prosthetic Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: June 12th, 2026

#2026 #45 #AmericanMetal #CircadianPromise #DeathMetal #DoomMetal #FiresInTheDistance #Jun26 #MelodicDeathMetal #ProgressiveDeathMetal #ProstheticRecords #Review #Reviews

Catching up with recent releases:

#Mirar: Gradus Ad Parnassum

https://album.link/i/6771152388

#MathMetal #ProgressiveDeathMetal #Thall

FFO #Fractalize #HumanitysLastBreath #Vildhjarta

#NowPlaying

Catching up with recent releases:

#Mirar: Gradus Ad Parnassum

https://album.link/i/6771152388

#MathMetal #ProgressiveDeathMetal #Thall

FFO #Fractalize #HumanitysLastBreath #Vildhjarta

#NowPlaying