#prostheticrecords — Public Fediverse posts

The storms persist, but now it’s getting hot! Steam roils inside the filter ducts as my minions scald themselves in the pursuit of moderately valuable nuggets. Will they succeed before they cook like so many broccoli florets? Only time will tell.

Dead or alive, I’ll make sure these lazy louts deliver their semi-precious lodes. So be thankful, and BEHOLD!

Kenstrosity’s Mountainous Member

Volcandra // Beyond the Will of Mortals [April 24th, 2026 – Prosthetic Records]

Who knows why we don’t get promo sometimes? Countless times I’ve been faced with great anticipation for a new record by a band I was keeping tabs on, and countless times, for unknown reasons, promo never came. Louisville melodic black/death quartet Volcandra now enter those ranks with the unsent Beyond the Will of Mortals. Picking up where The Will of Ancients left off, Beyond the Will of Mortals expands in scope and scale, eliciting a grandeur in composition that recalls the epic yarns spun by Foretoken, Hath, and Astralborne, but with the thrashing sensibilities of Antiverse and Skeletonwitch. Leading the charge in stunning fashion, “Beyond the Will of Mortals” and “Marauders of the Cosmic Vortex” explode with a visceral burst of energy built around high-octane riffs, screaming solos, and majestic melodies. Dave Palenske in particular acquits himself admirably, expanding his vocal range far beyond the expected, foraying into scorching screams and subterranean gutturals with excellent technique and charisma (“Venom March Enchantress”). But the rest of the band easily keeps up, deftly trading blows between power metal-ready gallops, violent swings into thrash territory, and all manner of other pyrotechnics to make Beyond the Will of Mortals Volcandra’s most versatile and varied offering yet. To some, this may create a disjointed experience as rippers like “Mage of Fabled Sorcery” contrast in pacing and personality to its neighbors. However, with repeat listens that effects dissolves, making more room to appreciate how much fun this record really is. The back half capitalizes on that effect, unleashing lean and mean banger after banger to leave you salivating for another round (“Within the Webs,” “Infinite Decadence”). In sum, Beyond the Will of Mortals is a fine, invigorating inclusion into anyone’s rotation; so if you missed it, get on it now!

Creeping Ivy’s Punkyard Dogs

Dead Bob // Nothing Changes Everything [April 21st, 2026 – Wrong Records]

In The Collector’s Guide to Heavy Metal, Martin Popoff describes Wrong (1989) by Nomeansno as ‘the mightiest merger between the hateful aggression of punk and the discipline of heavy metal’ (316). Essentially, Popoff affixed to Wrong AMG’s Iconic label: 10/10.1 For readers perhaps unfamiliar with Nomeansno, my best follow-up on Popoff’s portrayal is that the band—formed in 1979 by the Wright brothers (Rob on bass/vocals, John on drums/vocals)—sounds like The Minutemen hijacked a Voivod. After an incredible eleven-album run, Nomeansno officially retired in 2016. Why am I wasting my word count with this history lesson on the greatest Canadian punk band of all time? Because Dead Bob, John Wright’s solo project, released its sophomore album this April. Whereas Life Like fulfills the vision of one man, John enlisted a band for Nothing Changes Everything. Bookending the album are the last two songs John co-wrote with Rob. The techy guitar/bass interplay of lead-off “Centre of the Universe,” as well as the pounding rhythms of closer “No Fun (Alt Mix),” come closest to the punk/metal hybridity of vintage Nomeansno. Between these tracks, the album gets increasingly weird (which is to say, it gets increasingly ‘punk,’ in the word’s original connotation). “Nothing Changes Everything” deploys horns, “Hard is Hard” mixes art/surf rock, and “The Present” sprinkles psychedelic guitar leads over pulsing synths and tribal percussion. If you’re a fan of avant-garde music in a compact package, you can’t go wrong with Nothing Changes Everything.

Poison Ruïn // Hymns from the Hills [April 3rd, 2026 – Relapse Records]

Whilst reading Tyme‘s (excellent) review of Twin Serpent’s (super fun) True Norwegian Blackgrass, a member of the commentariat reminded me of how much I enjoyed Poison Ruïn’s latest offering upon a first listen. That comment got me to revisit Hymn from the Hills, and I’m glad I did. To sell these Philly post-punks to the AMG Faithful, I’ll point out a few things: they’re signed to Relapse Records, they curate a medieval aesthetic (which includes deploying dungeon synths), and the new record was mastered by Arthur Rizk. In addition to liberal metal elements, Poison Ruïn occasionally stride with rock n’ roll swagger (“Hymn from the Hills”), with primary visionary Mac Kennedy channeling Blue Öyster Cult in his role as singer, guitarist, and primary songwriter (“Lily of the Valley”). “Eidolon” perfectly exemplifies the band’s hybridity, mashing up the melody of “Layla,” the propulsive drive of Hüsker Dü, and the rhythmic punctuations of “For Whom the Bell Tolls.” This may sound like a critique, but it’s not; Poison Ruïn excels at mixing punk, rock, and metal into their own arthouse concoction. Metal purists might have to wait until the end of the album, though, to have their fancy truly tickled. But wait, they should, as “Sleeping Giant (Interlude)” offers funeral doom content in a punk-sized package, while closer “The Standoff” gets moving with a wicked blast beat. I’ll definitely be heading for these post-punk hills more and more throughout the year.

Scimitar // Scimitarium II [April 24th, 2026 – Crypt of the Wizard]

Scimitar’s first song receptacle was one of my favorite debuts of 2025. On Scimitarium I, this Danish five-piece served up a scintillating selection of ‘black occult rock,’ combining the caustic fervor of Malokarpatan with the psychedelic haze of Blue Cheer, topped off with a post-punk flavoring of Joy Division. A year later, this Copenhagen cutter returns with Scimitarium II, a follow-up that satisfyingly mirrors the album-art format of its predecessor. Whereas Scimitarium I demonstrated range marred a bit by roughshod production, volume II sounds much sharper, slashing and dashing for a lean 40 minutes. The opening title track introduces our combatants: the dexterous drumming of CCsquele; the counter-melodic bass of Olle Bergholz; the sinister guitar fury of Johan L. Ekstrand and Anders M. Jørgensen; and finally, the commanding vocals of Shaam A.2 From there, the album rips through a trio of unrelenting ragers that feel like they can fall apart at any minute but miraculously hold together. “Through Lava Lit Roads to Lavilenda, Pt. II” offers the only reprieve, spotlighting Shaam’s dynamic range and impressive timbre. Closing out the collection is “Mobula Mobular,” a 13-minute monster built around a doomy riff whose chromaticism lurches upward and downward, to hypnotizing effect. If Scimitar can marry the ambition of I with the ferocity of II next time around, they’ll have a blackened-trad killer on their hands.

Andy-War-Hall’s Dandy Score Haul

Elegant Weapons // Evolution [April 24th, 2026 – Exciter Records]

Everything about Elegant Weapons and the super group’s sophomore record Evolution is a misnomer. Evolution is a high-octane slugfest of tried-and-true heavy metal-leaning hard rock, and Elegant Weapons swing, punch, and bite through it with everything but grace. Is this a problem? When Richie Faulkener’s (Judas Priest) riffs are as groovy and burly as ever and his solos as grin-inducing, Ronnie Romero’s (ex-Rainbow, ex-Michael Schenker Group) voice is booming as it is, and when Dave Rimmer (Uriah Heep) and Christopher Williams’ (Accept) bass and drums respectively, carry as tight a pulse as they do on Evolution, not at all. When it all coalesces into uber catchy fist-pumping anthems like “Bridges Burn,” “The Devil Calls,” and “Shooting Shadows,” especially so. Evolution is easy-peasy listening, and Elegant Weapons’ chemistry and knack for hookcraft make its near hour-long runtime fly by, as well as ease the cringe of the hyper-Boomeristic lyricism on “Generation Me.” They also manage to make fairly stock power ballads in “Come Back to Me” and “Keeper of the Keys” feel affecting, driven by a viral vocal presence and emotive, timeless guitar soloing. Evolution is fun, and Elegant Weapons are sharp. ‘Nuff said.

Demon Spell // Blessed Be the Dark [April 24th, 2026 – Dying Victims Productions]

Creeping from an obscure, ancient, and sinister darkness, Sicily’s Demon Spell have conjured a shadow-cast era of heavy metal’s history back to the light of day with their debut Blessed Be the Dark. Wielding the evil auras of Mercyful Fate and Witchfinder General, Demon Spell play an early-80s melange of early thrash, occult rock, and NWoBHM riffcraft and swagger. Blessed Be the Dark is driven by excellent performances. Vocalist Federico Fano’s falsetto wails evoke King Diamond at his best on “As Lucifer Smiles” while drummer Dario Casabona drops slick, pummeling fills over “Curse of the Undead.” Sinister melodies and atmospheres abound on Blessed Be the Dark, with “The Tolling” and “Hexes and Horrors” driving home a vintage horror aesthetic while tearing it up with blistering heavy metal. Blessed Be the Dark also just sounds pleasantly old. Demon Spell’s guitars and bass sound pulled straight from 1981, complementing their retro songcraft perfectly. Blessed Be the Dark sounds like the night come alive, a fast, fun, and delightfully dark exploration of the kinds of heavy metal that gave your grandma panic attacks back in the day. Fall under the Demon Spell today!

Grin Reaper’s Grim Goodies

Nervosa // Slave Machine [April 3rd, 2026 – Napalm Records]

For a band releasing their sixth album in twelve years, Nervosa sounds remarkably vital. Staying the course with a dozen tracks of their signature death/thrash, Slave Machine burns through forty-three minutes of whammy dives, soaring leads, and all-around thrashy goodness. Writing tunes that pay homage to Sepultura (“You Are Not a Hero”), Kreator (“Ghost Notes”), and Sodom (“The Call”), Nervosa bludgeons with blunt-force drama while touting slick riffs and venomous melodies. Slave Machine opens with “Impending Doom,” a stirring salvo that Arch Enemy wishes they’d written, and from there Nervosa hints at the familiar without ever straying from their own lane. “Hate” starts with a riff that simultaneously reminds of Maiden’s “Flash of the Blade” and System of a Down’s “B.Y.O.B.” before spiraling into vaguely In Flames-tinged melodeath. Meanwhile, “Crawling for Your Pride” and “Beast of Burden” draw from the viciousness of mid-aughts Soulfly. Over and over, Nervosa pulls from known sources, yet bakes enough novelty into their songwriting to sound fresh and pummeling. Those intimate with Nervosa won’t find many surprises here, but are in for a treat. If this is your first encounter with these Brazilian badasses, gird your ears and strap in—welcome to the Slave Machine.

Kõdu // Kirjad Sõgedate Külast [April 20th, 2026 – Antiq Records]

Five years after delivering debut Unusta Kõik, Estonian outfit Kõdu graces us with their sophomore album. Translated as ‘Letters from the Village of the Blind,’3 Kirjad Sõgedate Külast details the sordid ruination of a backwoods village, relating its narrative aspects through a series of letters where each song chronicles a different villager’s perspective.4 Kõdu grounds the lyrics in their native language, drawing from nineteenth and twentieth-century Estonian poets for inspiration. Despite the depth of the macabre backdrop, I never would have taken the time to learn more if Kõdu’s music hadn’t entranced me from the outset. Slow-burn black metal abounds on Kirjad Sõgedate Külast, recalling Dødheimsgard’s shifting moods (“II”) and eclectic instrumentation (“III”) muddled with Wayfarer’s rustic arrangements (“VI”) and Emperor’s dramatic flair (“V”). Musically, Kirjad Sõgedate Külast conjures lush soundscapes (“VII”) through considered songwriting, expertly balancing black metal discharges with melancholic passages that give moments just the right amount of time to bludgeon or breathe before pivoting. I regret not getting the chance to review Kõdu’s latest in full, because the folk magic they weave on Kirjad Sõgedate Külast deserves fanfare and kudõs aplenty.

ClarkKent’s Epic Elegy

Bloody Valkyria // Requiem – Reveries Of The Dying [April 3rd, 2026 – Northern Silence Productions]

Bloody Valkyria, the product of Finland’s Jere Kervinen, peddles in the same sort of epic symphonic/folk black metal that the likes of Ancient Mastery, Stormkeep, and Moonlight Sorcery dish out. Kervinen’s emotionally charged project appears inspired by a personal loss, and you can feel his passion in the emotional outpouring of his music and lyrics. On the epic opener, “Symphony of Silence,” Bloody Valkyria reveal their capability with the patient slow burn. There’s the natural, serene ambience of animal sounds, strings, folky flutes, and then a sudden explosion of riffs and blast beats. And boy does Kervinen write some extraordinary leads, which makes his slow-burn approach all the more rewarding. Each song contains a well-earned hooky riff/trem that holds its sway over you even as the song grows into more thoughtful serenity. Reading along with Kervinen’s poetic, touching lyrics makes the experience all the more poignant as he ruminates on death and the meaning of life. The grief by the end, as he sings about his “beloved north” and a desire for its/her embrace, is palpable. This is a beautiful record that may be too good for these dirty filters, but I just couldn’t risk it getting lost in the shuffle of the chaos that is the end of year.

The storms persist, but now it’s getting hot! Steam roils inside the filter ducts as my minions scald themselves in the pursuit of moderately valuable nuggets. Will they succeed before they cook like so many broccoli florets? Only time will tell.

Dead or alive, I’ll make sure these lazy louts deliver their semi-precious lodes. So be thankful, and BEHOLD!

Kenstrosity’s Mountainous Member

Volcandra // Beyond the Will of Mortals [April 24th, 2026 – Prosthetic Records]

Who knows why we don’t get promo sometimes? Countless times I’ve been faced with great anticipation for a new record by a band I was keeping tabs on, and countless times, for unknown reasons, promo never came. Louisville melodic black/death quartet Volcandra now enter those ranks with the unsent Beyond the Will of Mortals. Picking up where The Will of Ancients left off, Beyond the Will of Mortals expands in scope and scale, eliciting a grandeur in composition that recalls the epic yarns spun by Foretoken, Hath, and Astralborne, but with the thrashing sensibilities of Antiverse and Skeletonwitch. Leading the charge in stunning fashion, “Beyond the Will of Mortals” and “Marauders of the Cosmic Vortex” explode with a visceral burst of energy built around high-octane riffs, screaming solos, and majestic melodies. Dave Palenske in particular acquits himself admirably, expanding his vocal range far beyond the expected, foraying into scorching screams and subterranean gutturals with excellent technique and charisma (“Venom March Enchantress”). But the rest of the band easily keeps up, deftly trading blows between power metal-ready gallops, violent swings into thrash territory, and all manner of other pyrotechnics to make Beyond the Will of Mortals Volcandra’s most versatile and varied offering yet. To some, this may create a disjointed experience as rippers like “Mage of Fabled Sorcery” contrast in pacing and personality to its neighbors. However, with repeat listens that effects dissolves, making more room to appreciate how much fun this record really is. The back half capitalizes on that effect, unleashing lean and mean banger after banger to leave you salivating for another round (“Within the Webs,” “Infinite Decadence”). In sum, Beyond the Will of Mortals is a fine, invigorating inclusion into anyone’s rotation; so if you missed it, get on it now!

Creeping Ivy’s Punkyard Dogs

Dead Bob // Nothing Changes Everything [April 21st, 2026 – Wrong Records]

In The Collector’s Guide to Heavy Metal, Martin Popoff describes Wrong (1989) by Nomeansno as ‘the mightiest merger between the hateful aggression of punk and the discipline of heavy metal’ (316). Essentially, Popoff affixed to Wrong AMG’s Iconic label: 10/10.1 For readers perhaps unfamiliar with Nomeansno, my best follow-up on Popoff’s portrayal is that the band—formed in 1979 by the Wright brothers (Rob on bass/vocals, John on drums/vocals)—sounds like The Minutemen hijacked a Voivod. After an incredible eleven-album run, Nomeansno officially retired in 2016. Why am I wasting my word count with this history lesson on the greatest Canadian punk band of all time? Because Dead Bob, John Wright’s solo project, released its sophomore album this April. Whereas Life Like fulfills the vision of one man, John enlisted a band for Nothing Changes Everything. Bookending the album are the last two songs John co-wrote with Rob. The techy guitar/bass interplay of lead-off “Centre of the Universe,” as well as the pounding rhythms of closer “No Fun (Alt Mix),” come closest to the punk/metal hybridity of vintage Nomeansno. Between these tracks, the album gets increasingly weird (which is to say, it gets increasingly ‘punk,’ in the word’s original connotation). “Nothing Changes Everything” deploys horns, “Hard is Hard” mixes art/surf rock, and “The Present” sprinkles psychedelic guitar leads over pulsing synths and tribal percussion. If you’re a fan of avant-garde music in a compact package, you can’t go wrong with Nothing Changes Everything.

Poison Ruïn // Hymns from the Hills [April 3rd, 2026 – Relapse Records]

Whilst reading Tyme‘s (excellent) review of Twin Serpent’s (super fun) True Norwegian Blackgrass, a member of the commentariat reminded me of how much I enjoyed Poison Ruïn’s latest offering upon a first listen. That comment got me to revisit Hymn from the Hills, and I’m glad I did. To sell these Philly post-punks to the AMG Faithful, I’ll point out a few things: they’re signed to Relapse Records, they curate a medieval aesthetic (which includes deploying dungeon synths), and the new record was mastered by Arthur Rizk. In addition to liberal metal elements, Poison Ruïn occasionally stride with rock n’ roll swagger (“Hymn from the Hills”), with primary visionary Mac Kennedy channeling Blue Öyster Cult in his role as singer, guitarist, and primary songwriter (“Lily of the Valley”). “Eidolon” perfectly exemplifies the band’s hybridity, mashing up the melody of “Layla,” the propulsive drive of Hüsker Dü, and the rhythmic punctuations of “For Whom the Bell Tolls.” This may sound like a critique, but it’s not; Poison Ruïn excels at mixing punk, rock, and metal into their own arthouse concoction. Metal purists might have to wait until the end of the album, though, to have their fancy truly tickled. But wait, they should, as “Sleeping Giant (Interlude)” offers funeral doom content in a punk-sized package, while closer “The Standoff” gets moving with a wicked blast beat. I’ll definitely be heading for these post-punk hills more and more throughout the year.

Scimitar // Scimitarium II [April 24th, 2026 – Crypt of the Wizard]

Scimitar’s first song receptacle was one of my favorite debuts of 2025. On Scimitarium I, this Danish five-piece served up a scintillating selection of ‘black occult rock,’ combining the caustic fervor of Malokarpatan with the psychedelic haze of Blue Cheer, topped off with a post-punk flavoring of Joy Division. A year later, this Copenhagen cutter returns with Scimitarium II, a follow-up that satisfyingly mirrors the album-art format of its predecessor. Whereas Scimitarium I demonstrated range marred a bit by roughshod production, volume II sounds much sharper, slashing and dashing for a lean 40 minutes. The opening title track introduces our combatants: the dexterous drumming of CCsquele; the counter-melodic bass of Olle Bergholz; the sinister guitar fury of Johan L. Ekstrand and Anders M. Jørgensen; and finally, the commanding vocals of Shaam A.2 From there, the album rips through a trio of unrelenting ragers that feel like they can fall apart at any minute but miraculously hold together. “Through Lava Lit Roads to Lavilenda, Pt. II” offers the only reprieve, spotlighting Shaam’s dynamic range and impressive timbre. Closing out the collection is “Mobula Mobular,” a 13-minute monster built around a doomy riff whose chromaticism lurches upward and downward, to hypnotizing effect. If Scimitar can marry the ambition of I with the ferocity of II next time around, they’ll have a blackened-trad killer on their hands.

Andy-War-Hall’s Dandy Score Haul

Elegant Weapons // Evolution [April 24th, 2026 – Exciter Records]

Everything about Elegant Weapons and the super group’s sophomore record Evolution is a misnomer. Evolution is a high-octane slugfest of tried-and-true heavy metal-leaning hard rock, and Elegant Weapons swing, punch, and bite through it with everything but grace. Is this a problem? When Richie Faulkener’s (Judas Priest) riffs are as groovy and burly as ever and his solos as grin-inducing, Ronnie Romero’s (ex-Rainbow, ex-Michael Schenker Group) voice is booming as it is, and when Dave Rimmer (Uriah Heep) and Christopher Williams’ (Accept) bass and drums respectively, carry as tight a pulse as they do on Evolution, not at all. When it all coalesces into uber catchy fist-pumping anthems like “Bridges Burn,” “The Devil Calls,” and “Shooting Shadows,” especially so. Evolution is easy-peasy listening, and Elegant Weapons’ chemistry and knack for hookcraft make its near hour-long runtime fly by, as well as ease the cringe of the hyper-Boomeristic lyricism on “Generation Me.” They also manage to make fairly stock power ballads in “Come Back to Me” and “Keeper of the Keys” feel affecting, driven by a viral vocal presence and emotive, timeless guitar soloing. Evolution is fun, and Elegant Weapons are sharp. ‘Nuff said.

Demon Spell // Blessed Be the Dark [April 24th, 2026 – Dying Victims Productions]

Creeping from an obscure, ancient, and sinister darkness, Sicily’s Demon Spell have conjured a shadow-cast era of heavy metal’s history back to the light of day with their debut Blessed Be the Dark. Wielding the evil auras of Mercyful Fate and Witchfinder General, Demon Spell play an early-80s melange of early thrash, occult rock, and NWoBHM riffcraft and swagger. Blessed Be the Dark is driven by excellent performances. Vocalist Federico Fano’s falsetto wails evoke King Diamond at his best on “As Lucifer Smiles” while drummer Dario Casabona drops slick, pummeling fills over “Curse of the Undead.” Sinister melodies and atmospheres abound on Blessed Be the Dark, with “The Tolling” and “Hexes and Horrors” driving home a vintage horror aesthetic while tearing it up with blistering heavy metal. Blessed Be the Dark also just sounds pleasantly old. Demon Spell’s guitars and bass sound pulled straight from 1981, complementing their retro songcraft perfectly. Blessed Be the Dark sounds like the night come alive, a fast, fun, and delightfully dark exploration of the kinds of heavy metal that gave your grandma panic attacks back in the day. Fall under the Demon Spell today!

Grin Reaper’s Grim Goodies

Nervosa // Slave Machine [April 3rd, 2026 – Napalm Records]

For a band releasing their sixth album in twelve years, Nervosa sounds remarkably vital. Staying the course with a dozen tracks of their signature death/thrash, Slave Machine burns through forty-three minutes of whammy dives, soaring leads, and all-around thrashy goodness. Writing tunes that pay homage to Sepultura (“You Are Not a Hero”), Kreator (“Ghost Notes”), and Sodom (“The Call”), Nervosa bludgeons with blunt-force drama while touting slick riffs and venomous melodies. Slave Machine opens with “Impending Doom,” a stirring salvo that Arch Enemy wishes they’d written, and from there Nervosa hints at the familiar without ever straying from their own lane. “Hate” starts with a riff that simultaneously reminds of Maiden’s “Flash of the Blade” and System of a Down’s “B.Y.O.B.” before spiraling into vaguely In Flames-tinged melodeath. Meanwhile, “Crawling for Your Pride” and “Beast of Burden” draw from the viciousness of mid-aughts Soulfly. Over and over, Nervosa pulls from known sources, yet bakes enough novelty into their songwriting to sound fresh and pummeling. Those intimate with Nervosa won’t find many surprises here, but are in for a treat. If this is your first encounter with these Brazilian badasses, gird your ears and strap in—welcome to the Slave Machine.

Kõdu // Kirjad Sõgedate Külast [April 20th, 2026 – Antiq Records]

Five years after delivering debut Unusta Kõik, Estonian outfit Kõdu graces us with their sophomore album. Translated as ‘Letters from the Village of the Blind,’3 Kirjad Sõgedate Külast details the sordid ruination of a backwoods village, relating its narrative aspects through a series of letters where each song chronicles a different villager’s perspective.4 Kõdu grounds the lyrics in their native language, drawing from nineteenth and twentieth-century Estonian poets for inspiration. Despite the depth of the macabre backdrop, I never would have taken the time to learn more if Kõdu’s music hadn’t entranced me from the outset. Slow-burn black metal abounds on Kirjad Sõgedate Külast, recalling Dødheimsgard’s shifting moods (“II”) and eclectic instrumentation (“III”) muddled with Wayfarer’s rustic arrangements (“VI”) and Emperor’s dramatic flair (“V”). Musically, Kirjad Sõgedate Külast conjures lush soundscapes (“VII”) through considered songwriting, expertly balancing black metal discharges with melancholic passages that give moments just the right amount of time to bludgeon or breathe before pivoting. I regret not getting the chance to review Kõdu’s latest in full, because the folk magic they weave on Kirjad Sõgedate Külast deserves fanfare and kudõs aplenty.

ClarkKent’s Epic Elegy

Bloody Valkyria // Requiem – Reveries Of The Dying [April 3rd, 2026 – Northern Silence Productions]

Bloody Valkyria, the product of Finland’s Jere Kervinen, peddles in the same sort of epic symphonic/folk black metal that the likes of Ancient Mastery, Stormkeep, and Moonlight Sorcery dish out. Kervinen’s emotionally charged project appears inspired by a personal loss, and you can feel his passion in the emotional outpouring of his music and lyrics. On the epic opener, “Symphony of Silence,” Bloody Valkyria reveal their capability with the patient slow burn. There’s the natural, serene ambience of animal sounds, strings, folky flutes, and then a sudden explosion of riffs and blast beats. And boy does Kervinen write some extraordinary leads, which makes his slow-burn approach all the more rewarding. Each song contains a well-earned hooky riff/trem that holds its sway over you even as the song grows into more thoughtful serenity. Reading along with Kervinen’s poetic, touching lyrics makes the experience all the more poignant as he ruminates on death and the meaning of life. The grief by the end, as he sings about his “beloved north” and a desire for its/her embrace, is palpable. This is a beautiful record that may be too good for these dirty filters, but I just couldn’t risk it getting lost in the shuffle of the chaos that is the end of year.

The storms persist, but now it’s getting hot! Steam roils inside the filter ducts as my minions scald themselves in the pursuit of moderately valuable nuggets. Will they succeed before they cook like so many broccoli florets? Only time will tell.

Dead or alive, I’ll make sure these lazy louts deliver their semi-precious lodes. So be thankful, and BEHOLD!

Kenstrosity’s Mountainous Member

Volcandra // Beyond the Will of Mortals [April 24th, 2026 – Prosthetic Records]

Who knows why we don’t get promo sometimes? Countless times I’ve been faced with great anticipation for a new record by a band I was keeping tabs on, and countless times, for unknown reasons, promo never came. Louisville melodic black/death quartet Volcandra now enter those ranks with the unsent Beyond the Will of Mortals. Picking up where The Will of Ancients left off, Beyond the Will of Mortals expands in scope and scale, eliciting a grandeur in composition that recalls the epic yarns spun by Foretoken, Hath, and Astralborne, but with the thrashing sensibilities of Antiverse and Skeletonwitch. Leading the charge in stunning fashion, “Beyond the Will of Mortals” and “Marauders of the Cosmic Vortex” explode with a visceral burst of energy built around high-octane riffs, screaming solos, and majestic melodies. Dave Palenske in particular acquits himself admirably, expanding his vocal range far beyond the expected, foraying into scorching screams and subterranean gutturals with excellent technique and charisma (“Venom March Enchantress”). But the rest of the band easily keeps up, deftly trading blows between power metal-ready gallops, violent swings into thrash territory, and all manner of other pyrotechnics to make Beyond the Will of Mortals Volcandra’s most versatile and varied offering yet. To some, this may create a disjointed experience as rippers like “Mage of Fabled Sorcery” contrast in pacing and personality to its neighbors. However, with repeat listens that effects dissolves, making more room to appreciate how much fun this record really is. The back half capitalizes on that effect, unleashing lean and mean banger after banger to leave you salivating for another round (“Within the Webs,” “Infinite Decadence”). In sum, Beyond the Will of Mortals is a fine, invigorating inclusion into anyone’s rotation; so if you missed it, get on it now!

Creeping Ivy’s Punkyard Dogs

Dead Bob // Nothing Changes Everything [April 21st, 2026 – Wrong Records]

In The Collector’s Guide to Heavy Metal, Martin Popoff describes Wrong (1989) by Nomeansno as ‘the mightiest merger between the hateful aggression of punk and the discipline of heavy metal’ (316). Essentially, Popoff affixed to Wrong AMG’s Iconic label: 10/10.1 For readers perhaps unfamiliar with Nomeansno, my best follow-up on Popoff’s portrayal is that the band—formed in 1979 by the Wright brothers (Rob on bass/vocals, John on drums/vocals)—sounds like The Minutemen hijacked a Voivod. After an incredible eleven-album run, Nomeansno officially retired in 2016. Why am I wasting my word count with this history lesson on the greatest Canadian punk band of all time? Because Dead Bob, John Wright’s solo project, released its sophomore album this April. Whereas Life Like fulfills the vision of one man, John enlisted a band for Nothing Changes Everything. Bookending the album are the last two songs John co-wrote with Rob. The techy guitar/bass interplay of lead-off “Centre of the Universe,” as well as the pounding rhythms of closer “No Fun (Alt Mix),” come closest to the punk/metal hybridity of vintage Nomeansno. Between these tracks, the album gets increasingly weird (which is to say, it gets increasingly ‘punk,’ in the word’s original connotation). “Nothing Changes Everything” deploys horns, “Hard is Hard” mixes art/surf rock, and “The Present” sprinkles psychedelic guitar leads over pulsing synths and tribal percussion. If you’re a fan of avant-garde music in a compact package, you can’t go wrong with Nothing Changes Everything.

Poison Ruïn // Hymns from the Hills [April 3rd, 2026 – Relapse Records]

Whilst reading Tyme‘s (excellent) review of Twin Serpent’s (super fun) True Norwegian Blackgrass, a member of the commentariat reminded me of how much I enjoyed Poison Ruïn’s latest offering upon a first listen. That comment got me to revisit Hymn from the Hills, and I’m glad I did. To sell these Philly post-punks to the AMG Faithful, I’ll point out a few things: they’re signed to Relapse Records, they curate a medieval aesthetic (which includes deploying dungeon synths), and the new record was mastered by Arthur Rizk. In addition to liberal metal elements, Poison Ruïn occasionally stride with rock n’ roll swagger (“Hymn from the Hills”), with primary visionary Mac Kennedy channeling Blue Öyster Cult in his role as singer, guitarist, and primary songwriter (“Lily of the Valley”). “Eidolon” perfectly exemplifies the band’s hybridity, mashing up the melody of “Layla,” the propulsive drive of Hüsker Dü, and the rhythmic punctuations of “For Whom the Bell Tolls.” This may sound like a critique, but it’s not; Poison Ruïn excels at mixing punk, rock, and metal into their own arthouse concoction. Metal purists might have to wait until the end of the album, though, to have their fancy truly tickled. But wait, they should, as “Sleeping Giant (Interlude)” offers funeral doom content in a punk-sized package, while closer “The Standoff” gets moving with a wicked blast beat. I’ll definitely be heading for these post-punk hills more and more throughout the year.

Scimitar // Scimitarium II [April 24th, 2026 – Crypt of the Wizard]

Scimitar’s first song receptacle was one of my favorite debuts of 2025. On Scimitarium I, this Danish five-piece served up a scintillating selection of ‘black occult rock,’ combining the caustic fervor of Malokarpatan with the psychedelic haze of Blue Cheer, topped off with a post-punk flavoring of Joy Division. A year later, this Copenhagen cutter returns with Scimitarium II, a follow-up that satisfyingly mirrors the album-art format of its predecessor. Whereas Scimitarium I demonstrated range marred a bit by roughshod production, volume II sounds much sharper, slashing and dashing for a lean 40 minutes. The opening title track introduces our combatants: the dexterous drumming of CCsquele; the counter-melodic bass of Olle Bergholz; the sinister guitar fury of Johan L. Ekstrand and Anders M. Jørgensen; and finally, the commanding vocals of Shaam A.2 From there, the album rips through a trio of unrelenting ragers that feel like they can fall apart at any minute but miraculously hold together. “Through Lava Lit Roads to Lavilenda, Pt. II” offers the only reprieve, spotlighting Shaam’s dynamic range and impressive timbre. Closing out the collection is “Mobula Mobular,” a 13-minute monster built around a doomy riff whose chromaticism lurches upward and downward, to hypnotizing effect. If Scimitar can marry the ambition of I with the ferocity of II next time around, they’ll have a blackened-trad killer on their hands.

Andy-War-Hall’s Dandy Score Haul

Elegant Weapons // Evolution [April 24th, 2026 – Exciter Records]

Everything about Elegant Weapons and the super group’s sophomore record Evolution is a misnomer. Evolution is a high-octane slugfest of tried-and-true heavy metal-leaning hard rock, and Elegant Weapons swing, punch, and bite through it with everything but grace. Is this a problem? When Richie Faulkener’s (Judas Priest) riffs are as groovy and burly as ever and his solos as grin-inducing, Ronnie Romero’s (ex-Rainbow, ex-Michael Schenker Group) voice is booming as it is, and when Dave Rimmer (Uriah Heep) and Christopher Williams’ (Accept) bass and drums respectively, carry as tight a pulse as they do on Evolution, not at all. When it all coalesces into uber catchy fist-pumping anthems like “Bridges Burn,” “The Devil Calls,” and “Shooting Shadows,” especially so. Evolution is easy-peasy listening, and Elegant Weapons’ chemistry and knack for hookcraft make its near hour-long runtime fly by, as well as ease the cringe of the hyper-Boomeristic lyricism on “Generation Me.” They also manage to make fairly stock power ballads in “Come Back to Me” and “Keeper of the Keys” feel affecting, driven by a viral vocal presence and emotive, timeless guitar soloing. Evolution is fun, and Elegant Weapons are sharp. ‘Nuff said.

Demon Spell // Blessed Be the Dark [April 24th, 2026 – Dying Victims Productions]

Creeping from an obscure, ancient, and sinister darkness, Sicily’s Demon Spell have conjured a shadow-cast era of heavy metal’s history back to the light of day with their debut Blessed Be the Dark. Wielding the evil auras of Mercyful Fate and Witchfinder General, Demon Spell play an early-80s melange of early thrash, occult rock, and NWoBHM riffcraft and swagger. Blessed Be the Dark is driven by excellent performances. Vocalist Federico Fano’s falsetto wails evoke King Diamond at his best on “As Lucifer Smiles” while drummer Dario Casabona drops slick, pummeling fills over “Curse of the Undead.” Sinister melodies and atmospheres abound on Blessed Be the Dark, with “The Tolling” and “Hexes and Horrors” driving home a vintage horror aesthetic while tearing it up with blistering heavy metal. Blessed Be the Dark also just sounds pleasantly old. Demon Spell’s guitars and bass sound pulled straight from 1981, complementing their retro songcraft perfectly. Blessed Be the Dark sounds like the night come alive, a fast, fun, and delightfully dark exploration of the kinds of heavy metal that gave your grandma panic attacks back in the day. Fall under the Demon Spell today!

Grin Reaper’s Grim Goodies

Nervosa // Slave Machine [April 3rd, 2026 – Napalm Records]

For a band releasing their sixth album in twelve years, Nervosa sounds remarkably vital. Staying the course with a dozen tracks of their signature death/thrash, Slave Machine burns through forty-three minutes of whammy dives, soaring leads, and all-around thrashy goodness. Writing tunes that pay homage to Sepultura (“You Are Not a Hero”), Kreator (“Ghost Notes”), and Sodom (“The Call”), Nervosa bludgeons with blunt-force drama while touting slick riffs and venomous melodies. Slave Machine opens with “Impending Doom,” a stirring salvo that Arch Enemy wishes they’d written, and from there Nervosa hints at the familiar without ever straying from their own lane. “Hate” starts with a riff that simultaneously reminds of Maiden’s “Flash of the Blade” and System of a Down’s “B.Y.O.B.” before spiraling into vaguely In Flames-tinged melodeath. Meanwhile, “Crawling for Your Pride” and “Beast of Burden” draw from the viciousness of mid-aughts Soulfly. Over and over, Nervosa pulls from known sources, yet bakes enough novelty into their songwriting to sound fresh and pummeling. Those intimate with Nervosa won’t find many surprises here, but are in for a treat. If this is your first encounter with these Brazilian badasses, gird your ears and strap in—welcome to the Slave Machine.

Kõdu // Kirjad Sõgedate Külast [April 20th, 2026 – Antiq Records]

Five years after delivering debut Unusta Kõik, Estonian outfit Kõdu graces us with their sophomore album. Translated as ‘Letters from the Village of the Blind,’3 Kirjad Sõgedate Külast details the sordid ruination of a backwoods village, relating its narrative aspects through a series of letters where each song chronicles a different villager’s perspective.4 Kõdu grounds the lyrics in their native language, drawing from nineteenth and twentieth-century Estonian poets for inspiration. Despite the depth of the macabre backdrop, I never would have taken the time to learn more if Kõdu’s music hadn’t entranced me from the outset. Slow-burn black metal abounds on Kirjad Sõgedate Külast, recalling Dødheimsgard’s shifting moods (“II”) and eclectic instrumentation (“III”) muddled with Wayfarer’s rustic arrangements (“VI”) and Emperor’s dramatic flair (“V”). Musically, Kirjad Sõgedate Külast conjures lush soundscapes (“VII”) through considered songwriting, expertly balancing black metal discharges with melancholic passages that give moments just the right amount of time to bludgeon or breathe before pivoting. I regret not getting the chance to review Kõdu’s latest in full, because the folk magic they weave on Kirjad Sõgedate Külast deserves fanfare and kudõs aplenty.

ClarkKent’s Epic Elegy

Bloody Valkyria // Requiem – Reveries Of The Dying [April 3rd, 2026 – Northern Silence Productions]

Bloody Valkyria, the product of Finland’s Jere Kervinen, peddles in the same sort of epic symphonic/folk black metal that the likes of Ancient Mastery, Stormkeep, and Moonlight Sorcery dish out. Kervinen’s emotionally charged project appears inspired by a personal loss, and you can feel his passion in the emotional outpouring of his music and lyrics. On the epic opener, “Symphony of Silence,” Bloody Valkyria reveal their capability with the patient slow burn. There’s the natural, serene ambience of animal sounds, strings, folky flutes, and then a sudden explosion of riffs and blast beats. And boy does Kervinen write some extraordinary leads, which makes his slow-burn approach all the more rewarding. Each song contains a well-earned hooky riff/trem that holds its sway over you even as the song grows into more thoughtful serenity. Reading along with Kervinen’s poetic, touching lyrics makes the experience all the more poignant as he ruminates on death and the meaning of life. The grief by the end, as he sings about his “beloved north” and a desire for its/her embrace, is palpable. This is a beautiful record that may be too good for these dirty filters, but I just couldn’t risk it getting lost in the shuffle of the chaos that is the end of year.

The storms persist, but now it’s getting hot! Steam roils inside the filter ducts as my minions scald themselves in the pursuit of moderately valuable nuggets. Will they succeed before they cook like so many broccoli florets? Only time will tell.

Dead or alive, I’ll make sure these lazy louts deliver their semi-precious lodes. So be thankful, and BEHOLD!

Kenstrosity’s Mountainous Member

Volcandra // Beyond the Will of Mortals [April 24th, 2026 – Prosthetic Records]

Who knows why we don’t get promo sometimes? Countless times I’ve been faced with great anticipation for a new record by a band I was keeping tabs on, and countless times, for unknown reasons, promo never came. Louisville melodic black/death quartet Volcandra now enter those ranks with the unsent Beyond the Will of Mortals. Picking up where The Will of Ancients left off, Beyond the Will of Mortals expands in scope and scale, eliciting a grandeur in composition that recalls the epic yarns spun by Foretoken, Hath, and Astralborne, but with the thrashing sensibilities of Antiverse and Skeletonwitch. Leading the charge in stunning fashion, “Beyond the Will of Mortals” and “Marauders of the Cosmic Vortex” explode with a visceral burst of energy built around high-octane riffs, screaming solos, and majestic melodies. Dave Palenske in particular acquits himself admirably, expanding his vocal range far beyond the expected, foraying into scorching screams and subterranean gutturals with excellent technique and charisma (“Venom March Enchantress”). But the rest of the band easily keeps up, deftly trading blows between power metal-ready gallops, violent swings into thrash territory, and all manner of other pyrotechnics to make Beyond the Will of Mortals Volcandra’s most versatile and varied offering yet. To some, this may create a disjointed experience as rippers like “Mage of Fabled Sorcery” contrast in pacing and personality to its neighbors. However, with repeat listens that effects dissolves, making more room to appreciate how much fun this record really is. The back half capitalizes on that effect, unleashing lean and mean banger after banger to leave you salivating for another round (“Within the Webs,” “Infinite Decadence”). In sum, Beyond the Will of Mortals is a fine, invigorating inclusion into anyone’s rotation; so if you missed it, get on it now!

Creeping Ivy’s Punkyard Dogs

Dead Bob // Nothing Changes Everything [April 21st, 2026 – Wrong Records]

In The Collector’s Guide to Heavy Metal, Martin Popoff describes Wrong (1989) by Nomeansno as ‘the mightiest merger between the hateful aggression of punk and the discipline of heavy metal’ (316). Essentially, Popoff affixed to Wrong AMG’s Iconic label: 10/10.1 For readers perhaps unfamiliar with Nomeansno, my best follow-up on Popoff’s portrayal is that the band—formed in 1979 by the Wright brothers (Rob on bass/vocals, John on drums/vocals)—sounds like The Minutemen hijacked a Voivod. After an incredible eleven-album run, Nomeansno officially retired in 2016. Why am I wasting my word count with this history lesson on the greatest Canadian punk band of all time? Because Dead Bob, John Wright’s solo project, released its sophomore album this April. Whereas Life Like fulfills the vision of one man, John enlisted a band for Nothing Changes Everything. Bookending the album are the last two songs John co-wrote with Rob. The techy guitar/bass interplay of lead-off “Centre of the Universe,” as well as the pounding rhythms of closer “No Fun (Alt Mix),” come closest to the punk/metal hybridity of vintage Nomeansno. Between these tracks, the album gets increasingly weird (which is to say, it gets increasingly ‘punk,’ in the word’s original connotation). “Nothing Changes Everything” deploys horns, “Hard is Hard” mixes art/surf rock, and “The Present” sprinkles psychedelic guitar leads over pulsing synths and tribal percussion. If you’re a fan of avant-garde music in a compact package, you can’t go wrong with Nothing Changes Everything.

Poison Ruïn // Hymns from the Hills [April 3rd, 2026 – Relapse Records]

Whilst reading Tyme‘s (excellent) review of Twin Serpent’s (super fun) True Norwegian Blackgrass, a member of the commentariat reminded me of how much I enjoyed Poison Ruïn’s latest offering upon a first listen. That comment got me to revisit Hymn from the Hills, and I’m glad I did. To sell these Philly post-punks to the AMG Faithful, I’ll point out a few things: they’re signed to Relapse Records, they curate a medieval aesthetic (which includes deploying dungeon synths), and the new record was mastered by Arthur Rizk. In addition to liberal metal elements, Poison Ruïn occasionally stride with rock n’ roll swagger (“Hymn from the Hills”), with primary visionary Mac Kennedy channeling Blue Öyster Cult in his role as singer, guitarist, and primary songwriter (“Lily of the Valley”). “Eidolon” perfectly exemplifies the band’s hybridity, mashing up the melody of “Layla,” the propulsive drive of Hüsker Dü, and the rhythmic punctuations of “For Whom the Bell Tolls.” This may sound like a critique, but it’s not; Poison Ruïn excels at mixing punk, rock, and metal into their own arthouse concoction. Metal purists might have to wait until the end of the album, though, to have their fancy truly tickled. But wait, they should, as “Sleeping Giant (Interlude)” offers funeral doom content in a punk-sized package, while closer “The Standoff” gets moving with a wicked blast beat. I’ll definitely be heading for these post-punk hills more and more throughout the year.

Scimitar // Scimitarium II [April 24th, 2026 – Crypt of the Wizard]

Scimitar’s first song receptacle was one of my favorite debuts of 2025. On Scimitarium I, this Danish five-piece served up a scintillating selection of ‘black occult rock,’ combining the caustic fervor of Malokarpatan with the psychedelic haze of Blue Cheer, topped off with a post-punk flavoring of Joy Division. A year later, this Copenhagen cutter returns with Scimitarium II, a follow-up that satisfyingly mirrors the album-art format of its predecessor. Whereas Scimitarium I demonstrated range marred a bit by roughshod production, volume II sounds much sharper, slashing and dashing for a lean 40 minutes. The opening title track introduces our combatants: the dexterous drumming of CCsquele; the counter-melodic bass of Olle Bergholz; the sinister guitar fury of Johan L. Ekstrand and Anders M. Jørgensen; and finally, the commanding vocals of Shaam A.2 From there, the album rips through a trio of unrelenting ragers that feel like they can fall apart at any minute but miraculously hold together. “Through Lava Lit Roads to Lavilenda, Pt. II” offers the only reprieve, spotlighting Shaam’s dynamic range and impressive timbre. Closing out the collection is “Mobula Mobular,” a 13-minute monster built around a doomy riff whose chromaticism lurches upward and downward, to hypnotizing effect. If Scimitar can marry the ambition of I with the ferocity of II next time around, they’ll have a blackened-trad killer on their hands.

Andy-War-Hall’s Dandy Score Haul

Elegant Weapons // Evolution [April 24th, 2026 – Exciter Records]

Everything about Elegant Weapons and the super group’s sophomore record Evolution is a misnomer. Evolution is a high-octane slugfest of tried-and-true heavy metal-leaning hard rock, and Elegant Weapons swing, punch, and bite through it with everything but grace. Is this a problem? When Richie Faulkener’s (Judas Priest) riffs are as groovy and burly as ever and his solos as grin-inducing, Ronnie Romero’s (ex-Rainbow, ex-Michael Schenker Group) voice is booming as it is, and when Dave Rimmer (Uriah Heep) and Christopher Williams’ (Accept) bass and drums respectively, carry as tight a pulse as they do on Evolution, not at all. When it all coalesces into uber catchy fist-pumping anthems like “Bridges Burn,” “The Devil Calls,” and “Shooting Shadows,” especially so. Evolution is easy-peasy listening, and Elegant Weapons’ chemistry and knack for hookcraft make its near hour-long runtime fly by, as well as ease the cringe of the hyper-Boomeristic lyricism on “Generation Me.” They also manage to make fairly stock power ballads in “Come Back to Me” and “Keeper of the Keys” feel affecting, driven by a viral vocal presence and emotive, timeless guitar soloing. Evolution is fun, and Elegant Weapons are sharp. ‘Nuff said.

Demon Spell // Blessed Be the Dark [April 24th, 2026 – Dying Victims Productions]

Creeping from an obscure, ancient, and sinister darkness, Sicily’s Demon Spell have conjured a shadow-cast era of heavy metal’s history back to the light of day with their debut Blessed Be the Dark. Wielding the evil auras of Mercyful Fate and Witchfinder General, Demon Spell play an early-80s melange of early thrash, occult rock, and NWoBHM riffcraft and swagger. Blessed Be the Dark is driven by excellent performances. Vocalist Federico Fano’s falsetto wails evoke King Diamond at his best on “As Lucifer Smiles” while drummer Dario Casabona drops slick, pummeling fills over “Curse of the Undead.” Sinister melodies and atmospheres abound on Blessed Be the Dark, with “The Tolling” and “Hexes and Horrors” driving home a vintage horror aesthetic while tearing it up with blistering heavy metal. Blessed Be the Dark also just sounds pleasantly old. Demon Spell’s guitars and bass sound pulled straight from 1981, complementing their retro songcraft perfectly. Blessed Be the Dark sounds like the night come alive, a fast, fun, and delightfully dark exploration of the kinds of heavy metal that gave your grandma panic attacks back in the day. Fall under the Demon Spell today!

Grin Reaper’s Grim Goodies

Nervosa // Slave Machine [April 3rd, 2026 – Napalm Records]

For a band releasing their sixth album in twelve years, Nervosa sounds remarkably vital. Staying the course with a dozen tracks of their signature death/thrash, Slave Machine burns through forty-three minutes of whammy dives, soaring leads, and all-around thrashy goodness. Writing tunes that pay homage to Sepultura (“You Are Not a Hero”), Kreator (“Ghost Notes”), and Sodom (“The Call”), Nervosa bludgeons with blunt-force drama while touting slick riffs and venomous melodies. Slave Machine opens with “Impending Doom,” a stirring salvo that Arch Enemy wishes they’d written, and from there Nervosa hints at the familiar without ever straying from their own lane. “Hate” starts with a riff that simultaneously reminds of Maiden’s “Flash of the Blade” and System of a Down’s “B.Y.O.B.” before spiraling into vaguely In Flames-tinged melodeath. Meanwhile, “Crawling for Your Pride” and “Beast of Burden” draw from the viciousness of mid-aughts Soulfly. Over and over, Nervosa pulls from known sources, yet bakes enough novelty into their songwriting to sound fresh and pummeling. Those intimate with Nervosa won’t find many surprises here, but are in for a treat. If this is your first encounter with these Brazilian badasses, gird your ears and strap in—welcome to the Slave Machine.

Kõdu // Kirjad Sõgedate Külast [April 20th, 2026 – Antiq Records]

Five years after delivering debut Unusta Kõik, Estonian outfit Kõdu graces us with their sophomore album. Translated as ‘Letters from the Village of the Blind,’3 Kirjad Sõgedate Külast details the sordid ruination of a backwoods village, relating its narrative aspects through a series of letters where each song chronicles a different villager’s perspective.4 Kõdu grounds the lyrics in their native language, drawing from nineteenth and twentieth-century Estonian poets for inspiration. Despite the depth of the macabre backdrop, I never would have taken the time to learn more if Kõdu’s music hadn’t entranced me from the outset. Slow-burn black metal abounds on Kirjad Sõgedate Külast, recalling Dødheimsgard’s shifting moods (“II”) and eclectic instrumentation (“III”) muddled with Wayfarer’s rustic arrangements (“VI”) and Emperor’s dramatic flair (“V”). Musically, Kirjad Sõgedate Külast conjures lush soundscapes (“VII”) through considered songwriting, expertly balancing black metal discharges with melancholic passages that give moments just the right amount of time to bludgeon or breathe before pivoting. I regret not getting the chance to review Kõdu’s latest in full, because the folk magic they weave on Kirjad Sõgedate Külast deserves fanfare and kudõs aplenty.

ClarkKent’s Epic Elegy

Bloody Valkyria // Requiem – Reveries Of The Dying [April 3rd, 2026 – Northern Silence Productions]

Bloody Valkyria, the product of Finland’s Jere Kervinen, peddles in the same sort of epic symphonic/folk black metal that the likes of Ancient Mastery, Stormkeep, and Moonlight Sorcery dish out. Kervinen’s emotionally charged project appears inspired by a personal loss, and you can feel his passion in the emotional outpouring of his music and lyrics. On the epic opener, “Symphony of Silence,” Bloody Valkyria reveal their capability with the patient slow burn. There’s the natural, serene ambience of animal sounds, strings, folky flutes, and then a sudden explosion of riffs and blast beats. And boy does Kervinen write some extraordinary leads, which makes his slow-burn approach all the more rewarding. Each song contains a well-earned hooky riff/trem that holds its sway over you even as the song grows into more thoughtful serenity. Reading along with Kervinen’s poetic, touching lyrics makes the experience all the more poignant as he ruminates on death and the meaning of life. The grief by the end, as he sings about his “beloved north” and a desire for its/her embrace, is palpable. This is a beautiful record that may be too good for these dirty filters, but I just couldn’t risk it getting lost in the shuffle of the chaos that is the end of year.

The storms persist, but now it’s getting hot! Steam roils inside the filter ducts as my minions scald themselves in the pursuit of moderately valuable nuggets. Will they succeed before they cook like so many broccoli florets? Only time will tell.

Dead or alive, I’ll make sure these lazy louts deliver their semi-precious lodes. So be thankful, and BEHOLD!

Kenstrosity’s Mountainous Member

Volcandra // Beyond the Will of Mortals [April 24th, 2026 – Prosthetic Records]

Who knows why we don’t get promo sometimes? Countless times I’ve been faced with great anticipation for a new record by a band I was keeping tabs on, and countless times, for unknown reasons, promo never came. Louisville melodic black/death quartet Volcandra now enter those ranks with the unsent Beyond the Will of Mortals. Picking up where The Will of Ancients left off, Beyond the Will of Mortals expands in scope and scale, eliciting a grandeur in composition that recalls the epic yarns spun by Foretoken, Hath, and Astralborne, but with the thrashing sensibilities of Antiverse and Skeletonwitch. Leading the charge in stunning fashion, “Beyond the Will of Mortals” and “Marauders of the Cosmic Vortex” explode with a visceral burst of energy built around high-octane riffs, screaming solos, and majestic melodies. Dave Palenske in particular acquits himself admirably, expanding his vocal range far beyond the expected, foraying into scorching screams and subterranean gutturals with excellent technique and charisma (“Venom March Enchantress”). But the rest of the band easily keeps up, deftly trading blows between power metal-ready gallops, violent swings into thrash territory, and all manner of other pyrotechnics to make Beyond the Will of Mortals Volcandra’s most versatile and varied offering yet. To some, this may create a disjointed experience as rippers like “Mage of Fabled Sorcery” contrast in pacing and personality to its neighbors. However, with repeat listens that effects dissolves, making more room to appreciate how much fun this record really is. The back half capitalizes on that effect, unleashing lean and mean banger after banger to leave you salivating for another round (“Within the Webs,” “Infinite Decadence”). In sum, Beyond the Will of Mortals is a fine, invigorating inclusion into anyone’s rotation; so if you missed it, get on it now!

Creeping Ivy’s Punkyard Dogs

Dead Bob // Nothing Changes Everything [April 21st, 2026 – Wrong Records]

In The Collector’s Guide to Heavy Metal, Martin Popoff describes Wrong (1989) by Nomeansno as ‘the mightiest merger between the hateful aggression of punk and the discipline of heavy metal’ (316). Essentially, Popoff affixed to Wrong AMG’s Iconic label: 10/10.1 For readers perhaps unfamiliar with Nomeansno, my best follow-up on Popoff’s portrayal is that the band—formed in 1979 by the Wright brothers (Rob on bass/vocals, John on drums/vocals)—sounds like The Minutemen hijacked a Voivod. After an incredible eleven-album run, Nomeansno officially retired in 2016. Why am I wasting my word count with this history lesson on the greatest Canadian punk band of all time? Because Dead Bob, John Wright’s solo project, released its sophomore album this April. Whereas Life Like fulfills the vision of one man, John enlisted a band for Nothing Changes Everything. Bookending the album are the last two songs John co-wrote with Rob. The techy guitar/bass interplay of lead-off “Centre of the Universe,” as well as the pounding rhythms of closer “No Fun (Alt Mix),” come closest to the punk/metal hybridity of vintage Nomeansno. Between these tracks, the album gets increasingly weird (which is to say, it gets increasingly ‘punk,’ in the word’s original connotation). “Nothing Changes Everything” deploys horns, “Hard is Hard” mixes art/surf rock, and “The Present” sprinkles psychedelic guitar leads over pulsing synths and tribal percussion. If you’re a fan of avant-garde music in a compact package, you can’t go wrong with Nothing Changes Everything.

Poison Ruïn // Hymns from the Hills [April 3rd, 2026 – Relapse Records]

Whilst reading Tyme‘s (excellent) review of Twin Serpent’s (super fun) True Norwegian Blackgrass, a member of the commentariat reminded me of how much I enjoyed Poison Ruïn’s latest offering upon a first listen. That comment got me to revisit Hymn from the Hills, and I’m glad I did. To sell these Philly post-punks to the AMG Faithful, I’ll point out a few things: they’re signed to Relapse Records, they curate a medieval aesthetic (which includes deploying dungeon synths), and the new record was mastered by Arthur Rizk. In addition to liberal metal elements, Poison Ruïn occasionally stride with rock n’ roll swagger (“Hymn from the Hills”), with primary visionary Mac Kennedy channeling Blue Öyster Cult in his role as singer, guitarist, and primary songwriter (“Lily of the Valley”). “Eidolon” perfectly exemplifies the band’s hybridity, mashing up the melody of “Layla,” the propulsive drive of Hüsker Dü, and the rhythmic punctuations of “For Whom the Bell Tolls.” This may sound like a critique, but it’s not; Poison Ruïn excels at mixing punk, rock, and metal into their own arthouse concoction. Metal purists might have to wait until the end of the album, though, to have their fancy truly tickled. But wait, they should, as “Sleeping Giant (Interlude)” offers funeral doom content in a punk-sized package, while closer “The Standoff” gets moving with a wicked blast beat. I’ll definitely be heading for these post-punk hills more and more throughout the year.

Scimitar // Scimitarium II [April 24th, 2026 – Crypt of the Wizard]

Scimitar’s first song receptacle was one of my favorite debuts of 2025. On Scimitarium I, this Danish five-piece served up a scintillating selection of ‘black occult rock,’ combining the caustic fervor of Malokarpatan with the psychedelic haze of Blue Cheer, topped off with a post-punk flavoring of Joy Division. A year later, this Copenhagen cutter returns with Scimitarium II, a follow-up that satisfyingly mirrors the album-art format of its predecessor. Whereas Scimitarium I demonstrated range marred a bit by roughshod production, volume II sounds much sharper, slashing and dashing for a lean 40 minutes. The opening title track introduces our combatants: the dexterous drumming of CCsquele; the counter-melodic bass of Olle Bergholz; the sinister guitar fury of Johan L. Ekstrand and Anders M. Jørgensen; and finally, the commanding vocals of Shaam A.2 From there, the album rips through a trio of unrelenting ragers that feel like they can fall apart at any minute but miraculously hold together. “Through Lava Lit Roads to Lavilenda, Pt. II” offers the only reprieve, spotlighting Shaam’s dynamic range and impressive timbre. Closing out the collection is “Mobula Mobular,” a 13-minute monster built around a doomy riff whose chromaticism lurches upward and downward, to hypnotizing effect. If Scimitar can marry the ambition of I with the ferocity of II next time around, they’ll have a blackened-trad killer on their hands.

Andy-War-Hall’s Dandy Score Haul

Elegant Weapons // Evolution [April 24th, 2026 – Exciter Records]

Everything about Elegant Weapons and the super group’s sophomore record Evolution is a misnomer. Evolution is a high-octane slugfest of tried-and-true heavy metal-leaning hard rock, and Elegant Weapons swing, punch, and bite through it with everything but grace. Is this a problem? When Richie Faulkener’s (Judas Priest) riffs are as groovy and burly as ever and his solos as grin-inducing, Ronnie Romero’s (ex-Rainbow, ex-Michael Schenker Group) voice is booming as it is, and when Dave Rimmer (Uriah Heep) and Christopher Williams’ (Accept) bass and drums respectively, carry as tight a pulse as they do on Evolution, not at all. When it all coalesces into uber catchy fist-pumping anthems like “Bridges Burn,” “The Devil Calls,” and “Shooting Shadows,” especially so. Evolution is easy-peasy listening, and Elegant Weapons’ chemistry and knack for hookcraft make its near hour-long runtime fly by, as well as ease the cringe of the hyper-Boomeristic lyricism on “Generation Me.” They also manage to make fairly stock power ballads in “Come Back to Me” and “Keeper of the Keys” feel affecting, driven by a viral vocal presence and emotive, timeless guitar soloing. Evolution is fun, and Elegant Weapons are sharp. ‘Nuff said.

Demon Spell // Blessed Be the Dark [April 24th, 2026 – Dying Victims Productions]

Creeping from an obscure, ancient, and sinister darkness, Sicily’s Demon Spell have conjured a shadow-cast era of heavy metal’s history back to the light of day with their debut Blessed Be the Dark. Wielding the evil auras of Mercyful Fate and Witchfinder General, Demon Spell play an early-80s melange of early thrash, occult rock, and NWoBHM riffcraft and swagger. Blessed Be the Dark is driven by excellent performances. Vocalist Federico Fano’s falsetto wails evoke King Diamond at his best on “As Lucifer Smiles” while drummer Dario Casabona drops slick, pummeling fills over “Curse of the Undead.” Sinister melodies and atmospheres abound on Blessed Be the Dark, with “The Tolling” and “Hexes and Horrors” driving home a vintage horror aesthetic while tearing it up with blistering heavy metal. Blessed Be the Dark also just sounds pleasantly old. Demon Spell’s guitars and bass sound pulled straight from 1981, complementing their retro songcraft perfectly. Blessed Be the Dark sounds like the night come alive, a fast, fun, and delightfully dark exploration of the kinds of heavy metal that gave your grandma panic attacks back in the day. Fall under the Demon Spell today!

Grin Reaper’s Grim Goodies

Nervosa // Slave Machine [April 3rd, 2026 – Napalm Records]

For a band releasing their sixth album in twelve years, Nervosa sounds remarkably vital. Staying the course with a dozen tracks of their signature death/thrash, Slave Machine burns through forty-three minutes of whammy dives, soaring leads, and all-around thrashy goodness. Writing tunes that pay homage to Sepultura (“You Are Not a Hero”), Kreator (“Ghost Notes”), and Sodom (“The Call”), Nervosa bludgeons with blunt-force drama while touting slick riffs and venomous melodies. Slave Machine opens with “Impending Doom,” a stirring salvo that Arch Enemy wishes they’d written, and from there Nervosa hints at the familiar without ever straying from their own lane. “Hate” starts with a riff that simultaneously reminds of Maiden’s “Flash of the Blade” and System of a Down’s “B.Y.O.B.” before spiraling into vaguely In Flames-tinged melodeath. Meanwhile, “Crawling for Your Pride” and “Beast of Burden” draw from the viciousness of mid-aughts Soulfly. Over and over, Nervosa pulls from known sources, yet bakes enough novelty into their songwriting to sound fresh and pummeling. Those intimate with Nervosa won’t find many surprises here, but are in for a treat. If this is your first encounter with these Brazilian badasses, gird your ears and strap in—welcome to the Slave Machine.

Kõdu // Kirjad Sõgedate Külast [April 20th, 2026 – Antiq Records]

Five years after delivering debut Unusta Kõik, Estonian outfit Kõdu graces us with their sophomore album. Translated as ‘Letters from the Village of the Blind,’3 Kirjad Sõgedate Külast details the sordid ruination of a backwoods village, relating its narrative aspects through a series of letters where each song chronicles a different villager’s perspective.4 Kõdu grounds the lyrics in their native language, drawing from nineteenth and twentieth-century Estonian poets for inspiration. Despite the depth of the macabre backdrop, I never would have taken the time to learn more if Kõdu’s music hadn’t entranced me from the outset. Slow-burn black metal abounds on Kirjad Sõgedate Külast, recalling Dødheimsgard’s shifting moods (“II”) and eclectic instrumentation (“III”) muddled with Wayfarer’s rustic arrangements (“VI”) and Emperor’s dramatic flair (“V”). Musically, Kirjad Sõgedate Külast conjures lush soundscapes (“VII”) through considered songwriting, expertly balancing black metal discharges with melancholic passages that give moments just the right amount of time to bludgeon or breathe before pivoting. I regret not getting the chance to review Kõdu’s latest in full, because the folk magic they weave on Kirjad Sõgedate Külast deserves fanfare and kudõs aplenty.

ClarkKent’s Epic Elegy

Bloody Valkyria // Requiem – Reveries Of The Dying [April 3rd, 2026 – Northern Silence Productions]

Bloody Valkyria, the product of Finland’s Jere Kervinen, peddles in the same sort of epic symphonic/folk black metal that the likes of Ancient Mastery, Stormkeep, and Moonlight Sorcery dish out. Kervinen’s emotionally charged project appears inspired by a personal loss, and you can feel his passion in the emotional outpouring of his music and lyrics. On the epic opener, “Symphony of Silence,” Bloody Valkyria reveal their capability with the patient slow burn. There’s the natural, serene ambience of animal sounds, strings, folky flutes, and then a sudden explosion of riffs and blast beats. And boy does Kervinen write some extraordinary leads, which makes his slow-burn approach all the more rewarding. Each song contains a well-earned hooky riff/trem that holds its sway over you even as the song grows into more thoughtful serenity. Reading along with Kervinen’s poetic, touching lyrics makes the experience all the more poignant as he ruminates on death and the meaning of life. The grief by the end, as he sings about his “beloved north” and a desire for its/her embrace, is palpable. This is a beautiful record that may be too good for these dirty filters, but I just couldn’t risk it getting lost in the shuffle of the chaos that is the end of year.

One of metal’s most universal and recognizable traits is loudness. But, as obvious as this statement is, it’s the way that this loudness is utilized that differentiates individual artists from one another. In the promo sheet for Sotera, Joseph E. Martinez describes Junius as “heavy music that prioritizes movement and melody over aggression for its own sake,” a mission statement that aligns perfectly with what I prize in any metal subgenre that I listen to. It’s been nine years since 2017’s Eternal Rituals for the Accretion of Light, the final installment in a previous trilogy of albums. On Sotera, these Bostonians have settled on a looser concept revolving around an assortment of feminine divine figures. All that remains to be seen is how strong a celestial connection Junius will forge with longtime and prospective fans.

The passage of time has wrought a few changes to Junius’s sound. Their post-metal core is still largely intact, but it is now laced with considerable shoegaze influence. The resulting effect is an augmentation of the wall-of-sound techniques upon which both genres rely. This hazy combination frequently reminds me of Holy Fawn’s ebb and flow between ethereal and enraged. Sotera is slightly punchier than its predecessors as well. This is not exactly in a poppy way, although Martinez’s singing often adopts a dark, brooding tone like that of Depeche Mode. Also, at times, the guitar riffs are meaner, and the growls are fiercer. The culmination of these alterations causes Sotera to exude a larger-than-life sensation, which I imagine is even better experienced via concert speakers than in a recorded setting.

Sotera unfolds like a ritualistic energy transfer. The opening songs (“Disciple” and “The Oracle”) are characterized by radiant singing atop a swirling undercurrent of guitars, which periodically take on a harsher edge. But, as the album advances, most of this melodic power transitions from the vocals to the guitars. The leads that open “Serpent” uncoil and slither to expose subtle intricacies as the vocals become a low, gravelly incantation. Ultimately, “Scythian” arrives like a resplendent rebirth with catchy guitar riffs and the drumming briefly dipping into blast beats for the first and only time. “Initiatrix,” placed squarely in the middle of Sotera, is the intersection of these melodic entities as they produce the highlight of the record.

In other ways, Sotera’s sense of progression is less than cohesive. The most conspicuous example is “Lucifera,” a wistful dream pop-tinged number which doesn’t fit in as well stylistically, but probably would have worked better if it were only 3 minutes long instead of nearly 6. Overall, though, Junius remains very good at self-editing—no track on Sotera exceeds 7 minutes, and the entire runtime is a modest 40. Additionally, a few of the transitions (“Scythian,” “Darkwater”) and conclusions (“Initiatrix,” “Serpent”) within certain songs are abrupt, creating a momentarily jerky flow. That said, when I mentally lean back and let the mood envelope me, I don’t notice it much. I would believe it if someone told me that these are minor scars from many revisions over a long writing period.

Like an onion, Sotera may not appear auspicious on the surface, but repeated dissection uncovers many layers. Depending on your emotional frame of mind, it might even cause you to tear up a bit at times. Junius has crafted some of their most engaging soundscapes to date, possibly as a result of focusing more on individual songs. Although a few of these end before (“Initiatrix”) and after (“Lucifera”), I would like all of Sotera’s melodic elements to join together in fascinating ways. Whatever one’s preferred form of spirituality may be, Junius offers food for thought as well as the soul.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Prosthetic Records
Websites: junius.bandcamp.com | juniusmusic.com | facebook.com/juniusmusic
Releases Worldwide: June 26th, 2026

One of metal’s most universal and recognizable traits is loudness. But, as obvious as this statement is, it’s the way that this loudness is utilized that differentiates individual artists from one another. In the promo sheet for Sotera, Joseph E. Martinez describes Junius as “heavy music that prioritizes movement and melody over aggression for its own sake,” a mission statement that aligns perfectly with what I prize in any metal subgenre that I listen to. It’s been nine years since 2017’s Eternal Rituals for the Accretion of Light, the final installment in a previous trilogy of albums. On Sotera, these Bostonians have settled on a looser concept revolving around an assortment of feminine divine figures. All that remains to be seen is how strong a celestial connection Junius will forge with longtime and prospective fans.

The passage of time has wrought a few changes to Junius’s sound. Their post-metal core is still largely intact, but it is now laced with considerable shoegaze influence. The resulting effect is an augmentation of the wall-of-sound techniques upon which both genres rely. This hazy combination frequently reminds me of Holy Fawn’s ebb and flow between ethereal and enraged. Sotera is slightly punchier than its predecessors as well. This is not exactly in a poppy way, although Martinez’s singing often adopts a dark, brooding tone like that of Depeche Mode. Also, at times, the guitar riffs are meaner, and the growls are fiercer. The culmination of these alterations causes Sotera to exude a larger-than-life sensation, which I imagine is even better experienced via concert speakers than in a recorded setting.

Sotera unfolds like a ritualistic energy transfer. The opening songs (“Disciple” and “The Oracle”) are characterized by radiant singing atop a swirling undercurrent of guitars, which periodically take on a harsher edge. But, as the album advances, most of this melodic power transitions from the vocals to the guitars. The leads that open “Serpent” uncoil and slither to expose subtle intricacies as the vocals become a low, gravelly incantation. Ultimately, “Scythian” arrives like a resplendent rebirth with catchy guitar riffs and the drumming briefly dipping into blast beats for the first and only time. “Initiatrix,” placed squarely in the middle of Sotera, is the intersection of these melodic entities as they produce the highlight of the record.

In other ways, Sotera’s sense of progression is less than cohesive. The most conspicuous example is “Lucifera,” a wistful dream pop-tinged number which doesn’t fit in as well stylistically, but probably would have worked better if it were only 3 minutes long instead of nearly 6. Overall, though, Junius remains very good at self-editing—no track on Sotera exceeds 7 minutes, and the entire runtime is a modest 40. Additionally, a few of the transitions (“Scythian,” “Darkwater”) and conclusions (“Initiatrix,” “Serpent”) within certain songs are abrupt, creating a momentarily jerky flow. That said, when I mentally lean back and let the mood envelope me, I don’t notice it much. I would believe it if someone told me that these are minor scars from many revisions over a long writing period.

Like an onion, Sotera may not appear auspicious on the surface, but repeated dissection uncovers many layers. Depending on your emotional frame of mind, it might even cause you to tear up a bit at times. Junius has crafted some of their most engaging soundscapes to date, possibly as a result of focusing more on individual songs. Although a few of these end before (“Initiatrix”) and after (“Lucifera”), I would like all of Sotera’s melodic elements to join together in fascinating ways. Whatever one’s preferred form of spirituality may be, Junius offers food for thought as well as the soul.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Prosthetic Records
Websites: junius.bandcamp.com | juniusmusic.com | facebook.com/juniusmusic
Releases Worldwide: June 26th, 2026

One of metal’s most universal and recognizable traits is loudness. But, as obvious as this statement is, it’s the way that this loudness is utilized that differentiates individual artists from one another. In the promo sheet for Sotera, Joseph E. Martinez describes Junius as “heavy music that prioritizes movement and melody over aggression for its own sake,” a mission statement that aligns perfectly with what I prize in any metal subgenre that I listen to. It’s been nine years since 2017’s Eternal Rituals for the Accretion of Light, the final installment in a previous trilogy of albums. On Sotera, these Bostonians have settled on a looser concept revolving around an assortment of feminine divine figures. All that remains to be seen is how strong a celestial connection Junius will forge with longtime and prospective fans.

The passage of time has wrought a few changes to Junius’s sound. Their post-metal core is still largely intact, but it is now laced with considerable shoegaze influence. The resulting effect is an augmentation of the wall-of-sound techniques upon which both genres rely. This hazy combination frequently reminds me of Holy Fawn’s ebb and flow between ethereal and enraged. Sotera is slightly punchier than its predecessors as well. This is not exactly in a poppy way, although Martinez’s singing often adopts a dark, brooding tone like that of Depeche Mode. Also, at times, the guitar riffs are meaner, and the growls are fiercer. The culmination of these alterations causes Sotera to exude a larger-than-life sensation, which I imagine is even better experienced via concert speakers than in a recorded setting.

Sotera unfolds like a ritualistic energy transfer. The opening songs (“Disciple” and “The Oracle”) are characterized by radiant singing atop a swirling undercurrent of guitars, which periodically take on a harsher edge. But, as the album advances, most of this melodic power transitions from the vocals to the guitars. The leads that open “Serpent” uncoil and slither to expose subtle intricacies as the vocals become a low, gravelly incantation. Ultimately, “Scythian” arrives like a resplendent rebirth with catchy guitar riffs and the drumming briefly dipping into blast beats for the first and only time. “Initiatrix,” placed squarely in the middle of Sotera, is the intersection of these melodic entities as they produce the highlight of the record.

In other ways, Sotera’s sense of progression is less than cohesive. The most conspicuous example is “Lucifera,” a wistful dream pop-tinged number which doesn’t fit in as well stylistically, but probably would have worked better if it were only 3 minutes long instead of nearly 6. Overall, though, Junius remains very good at self-editing—no track on Sotera exceeds 7 minutes, and the entire runtime is a modest 40. Additionally, a few of the transitions (“Scythian,” “Darkwater”) and conclusions (“Initiatrix,” “Serpent”) within certain songs are abrupt, creating a momentarily jerky flow. That said, when I mentally lean back and let the mood envelope me, I don’t notice it much. I would believe it if someone told me that these are minor scars from many revisions over a long writing period.

Like an onion, Sotera may not appear auspicious on the surface, but repeated dissection uncovers many layers. Depending on your emotional frame of mind, it might even cause you to tear up a bit at times. Junius has crafted some of their most engaging soundscapes to date, possibly as a result of focusing more on individual songs. Although a few of these end before (“Initiatrix”) and after (“Lucifera”), I would like all of Sotera’s melodic elements to join together in fascinating ways. Whatever one’s preferred form of spirituality may be, Junius offers food for thought as well as the soul.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Prosthetic Records
Websites: junius.bandcamp.com | juniusmusic.com | facebook.com/juniusmusic
Releases Worldwide: June 26th, 2026

One of metal’s most universal and recognizable traits is loudness. But, as obvious as this statement is, it’s the way that this loudness is utilized that differentiates individual artists from one another. In the promo sheet for Sotera, Joseph E. Martinez describes Junius as “heavy music that prioritizes movement and melody over aggression for its own sake,” a mission statement that aligns perfectly with what I prize in any metal subgenre that I listen to. It’s been nine years since 2017’s Eternal Rituals for the Accretion of Light, the final installment in a previous trilogy of albums. On Sotera, these Bostonians have settled on a looser concept revolving around an assortment of feminine divine figures. All that remains to be seen is how strong a celestial connection Junius will forge with longtime and prospective fans.

The passage of time has wrought a few changes to Junius’s sound. Their post-metal core is still largely intact, but it is now laced with considerable shoegaze influence. The resulting effect is an augmentation of the wall-of-sound techniques upon which both genres rely. This hazy combination frequently reminds me of Holy Fawn’s ebb and flow between ethereal and enraged. Sotera is slightly punchier than its predecessors as well. This is not exactly in a poppy way, although Martinez’s singing often adopts a dark, brooding tone like that of Depeche Mode. Also, at times, the guitar riffs are meaner, and the growls are fiercer. The culmination of these alterations causes Sotera to exude a larger-than-life sensation, which I imagine is even better experienced via concert speakers than in a recorded setting.

Sotera unfolds like a ritualistic energy transfer. The opening songs (“Disciple” and “The Oracle”) are characterized by radiant singing atop a swirling undercurrent of guitars, which periodically take on a harsher edge. But, as the album advances, most of this melodic power transitions from the vocals to the guitars. The leads that open “Serpent” uncoil and slither to expose subtle intricacies as the vocals become a low, gravelly incantation. Ultimately, “Scythian” arrives like a resplendent rebirth with catchy guitar riffs and the drumming briefly dipping into blast beats for the first and only time. “Initiatrix,” placed squarely in the middle of Sotera, is the intersection of these melodic entities as they produce the highlight of the record.

In other ways, Sotera’s sense of progression is less than cohesive. The most conspicuous example is “Lucifera,” a wistful dream pop-tinged number which doesn’t fit in as well stylistically, but probably would have worked better if it were only 3 minutes long instead of nearly 6. Overall, though, Junius remains very good at self-editing—no track on Sotera exceeds 7 minutes, and the entire runtime is a modest 40. Additionally, a few of the transitions (“Scythian,” “Darkwater”) and conclusions (“Initiatrix,” “Serpent”) within certain songs are abrupt, creating a momentarily jerky flow. That said, when I mentally lean back and let the mood envelope me, I don’t notice it much. I would believe it if someone told me that these are minor scars from many revisions over a long writing period.

Like an onion, Sotera may not appear auspicious on the surface, but repeated dissection uncovers many layers. Depending on your emotional frame of mind, it might even cause you to tear up a bit at times. Junius has crafted some of their most engaging soundscapes to date, possibly as a result of focusing more on individual songs. Although a few of these end before (“Initiatrix”) and after (“Lucifera”), I would like all of Sotera’s melodic elements to join together in fascinating ways. Whatever one’s preferred form of spirituality may be, Junius offers food for thought as well as the soul.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Prosthetic Records
Websites: junius.bandcamp.com | juniusmusic.com | facebook.com/juniusmusic
Releases Worldwide: June 26th, 2026

One of metal’s most universal and recognizable traits is loudness. But, as obvious as this statement is, it’s the way that this loudness is utilized that differentiates individual artists from one another. In the promo sheet for Sotera, Joseph E. Martinez describes Junius as “heavy music that prioritizes movement and melody over aggression for its own sake,” a mission statement that aligns perfectly with what I prize in any metal subgenre that I listen to. It’s been nine years since 2017’s Eternal Rituals for the Accretion of Light, the final installment in a previous trilogy of albums. On Sotera, these Bostonians have settled on a looser concept revolving around an assortment of feminine divine figures. All that remains to be seen is how strong a celestial connection Junius will forge with longtime and prospective fans.

The passage of time has wrought a few changes to Junius’s sound. Their post-metal core is still largely intact, but it is now laced with considerable shoegaze influence. The resulting effect is an augmentation of the wall-of-sound techniques upon which both genres rely. This hazy combination frequently reminds me of Holy Fawn’s ebb and flow between ethereal and enraged. Sotera is slightly punchier than its predecessors as well. This is not exactly in a poppy way, although Martinez’s singing often adopts a dark, brooding tone like that of Depeche Mode. Also, at times, the guitar riffs are meaner, and the growls are fiercer. The culmination of these alterations causes Sotera to exude a larger-than-life sensation, which I imagine is even better experienced via concert speakers than in a recorded setting.

Sotera unfolds like a ritualistic energy transfer. The opening songs (“Disciple” and “The Oracle”) are characterized by radiant singing atop a swirling undercurrent of guitars, which periodically take on a harsher edge. But, as the album advances, most of this melodic power transitions from the vocals to the guitars. The leads that open “Serpent” uncoil and slither to expose subtle intricacies as the vocals become a low, gravelly incantation. Ultimately, “Scythian” arrives like a resplendent rebirth with catchy guitar riffs and the drumming briefly dipping into blast beats for the first and only time. “Initiatrix,” placed squarely in the middle of Sotera, is the intersection of these melodic entities as they produce the highlight of the record.

In other ways, Sotera’s sense of progression is less than cohesive. The most conspicuous example is “Lucifera,” a wistful dream pop-tinged number which doesn’t fit in as well stylistically, but probably would have worked better if it were only 3 minutes long instead of nearly 6. Overall, though, Junius remains very good at self-editing—no track on Sotera exceeds 7 minutes, and the entire runtime is a modest 40. Additionally, a few of the transitions (“Scythian,” “Darkwater”) and conclusions (“Initiatrix,” “Serpent”) within certain songs are abrupt, creating a momentarily jerky flow. That said, when I mentally lean back and let the mood envelope me, I don’t notice it much. I would believe it if someone told me that these are minor scars from many revisions over a long writing period.

Like an onion, Sotera may not appear auspicious on the surface, but repeated dissection uncovers many layers. Depending on your emotional frame of mind, it might even cause you to tear up a bit at times. Junius has crafted some of their most engaging soundscapes to date, possibly as a result of focusing more on individual songs. Although a few of these end before (“Initiatrix”) and after (“Lucifera”), I would like all of Sotera’s melodic elements to join together in fascinating ways. Whatever one’s preferred form of spirituality may be, Junius offers food for thought as well as the soul.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Prosthetic Records
Websites: junius.bandcamp.com | juniusmusic.com | facebook.com/juniusmusic
Releases Worldwide: June 26th, 2026

Review: Fires in the Distance – Circadian Promise

Published by Daniel on 2026/06/232026/06/23 Cover Art by Caelan Stokkermans Style: Melodic death metal, doom metal (mixed vocals,…
#NewsBeep #News #Music #2026 #8 #Connecticut #Entertainment #Genres #june #mixedvocals #mostlyharshvocals #ProstheticRecords #UK #UnitedKingdom #UnitedStates
https://www.newsbeep.com/uk/655997/

https://www.europesays.com/be-nl/81932/ Fires In The Distance – Circadian Promise #Amusement #BE #België #Belgium #CircadianPromise #DeathDoom #Entertainment #FiresInTheDistance #melodeath #MelodicDeathMetal #Music #Muziek #ProstheticRecords

https://www.europesays.com/nl/236580/ Fires In The Distance – Circadian Promise #Amusement #CircadianPromise #death/doom #Dutch #Entertainment #FiresInTheDistance #melodeath #MelodicDeathMetal #Music #Muziek #Nederland #Nederlanden #Nederlands #Netherlands #NL #ProstheticRecords

https://www.europesays.com/uk/1015866/ Fires in the Distance – Circadian Promise Review #2026 #45 #AmericanMetal #CircadianPromise #DeathMetal #DoomMetal #Entertainment #FiresInTheDistance #Jun26 #MelodicDeathMetal #music #ProgressiveDeathMetal #ProstheticRecords #Review #Reviews #UK #UnitedKingdom

https://www.europesays.com/ie/526614/ Fires in the Distance – Circadian Promise Review #2026 #45 #AmericanMetal #CircadianPromise #DeathMetal #DoomMetal #Éire #Entertainment #FiresInTheDistance #IE #Ireland #Jun26 #MelodicDeathMetal #Music #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

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

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

https://www.europesays.com/uk/417215/ Motherless – Do You Feel Safe? Review #2025 #4.0 #AmericanMetal #BlackSheepWall #CrustPunk #DoYouFeelSafe? #DoomMetal #Entertainment #indian #LordMantis #Motherless #music #ProstheticRecords #Review #Reviews #Sep25 #Sludge #TheAtlasMoth #Thou #UK #UnitedKingdom #WithoutWaves

Motherless – Do You Feel Safe? Review

Sometimes, you don’t need nuance. Sometimes you don’t want prog-soaked journeys through inner turmoil, or post-whatever atmospherics that…
#NewsBeep #News #Music #2025 #4.0 #AmericanMetal #BlackSheepWall #CrustPunk #DoYouFeelSafe? #DoomMetal #Entertainment #Indian #LordMantis #Motherless #ProstheticRecords #review #Reviews #Sep25 #Sludge #TheAtlasMoth #Thou #UK #UnitedKingdom #WithoutWaves
https://www.newsbeep.com/uk/130967/

Motherless – Do You Feel Safe? Review

By Samguineous Maximus

Sometimes, you don’t need nuance. Sometimes you don’t want prog-soaked journeys through inner turmoil, or post-whatever atmospherics that whisper about pain instead of screaming it in your face. 1 Sometimes you just want music to sound like the goddamn world is on fire. Featuring members of Without Waves and site favorites The Atlas Moth, Chicago’s Motherless might have just that with their debut Do You Feel Safe? 2 Promising a slab of riff-driven sludge metal with “driving intensity that reflects both personal darkness and industrial urban weight,” Motherless seems poised to deliver a batch of vile tunes for the end times. Can these scene veterans succeed in making a compelling and punishing debut, or will they find themselves crushed under the fuzz-drenched weight of their own riffs?

The brand of sonic violence Motherless specializes in owes just as much to the depraved lineage of crust punk and d-beat as it does the virulent brand of blackened sludge from fellow Chicagoans Lord Mantis and Indian. Do You Feel Safe? eschews the aimless downtuned wandering often found in the style, instead careening between powerlifting-ready sludge killriffs and mosh-inducing hardcore parts at a breakneck pace. The result is a riffstorm that hits with the immediacy of Thou’s Umbilical, but cranked to about double the RPM (that’s riffs per minute, naturally). Even on longer songs, Motherless keep things interesting by injecting a slice of post-metal shimmer (“Darling, You Don’t Look Well”) and the serrated edge of Black Sheep Wall’s post-hardcore abrasion (“The New Romance”). Do You Feel Safe?’s brisk 33-minute runtime blows by in a way that sufficiently encourages drywall-punching, but its 8 tracks mix things up just enough as not to grow stale.

The core aggression of Do You Feel Safe? is driven by its formidable guitar work. The bludgeoning force of Anthony Cwan and Stavros Giannopoulos is as delectable as it is vile, adapting the expansive three-pronged guitar attack of The Atlas Moth and condensing it for maximum destructive capability. When they’re not blasting ahead on punkier cuts like “Reptile Dysfuntion” or the blackened aggression of “Abrupt Violence,” Motherless’s core riff flavor is that of sinister groove; built on open string intervals and syncopated chugs. Tracks like “You Seem So Damn Sure,” “Christian Math” and “Insect Politics” all center around devilishly infectious riffs, downtuned appropriately and engineered to ensure maximum headbangability. Bassist Alex Klien sticks close to the guitars, augmenting their effectiveness with a massive bass crunch. The central riff package is expanded with consistent lead guitars, which add atmosphere and textural nuance to the mammoth sludge on display.

This twisted display of aural decimation is matched by an equally punishing production job. Do You Feel Safe? features an all-star mix by Sanford Parker (Eyehategod, Yob, Darkthrone) and master by Brad Boatwright (Sleep, Obituary, Kylesa), whose impressive abilities are on full display. 3 This ensures that every palm-mute and distorted power chord from Motherless hits with the sonic impact of a freight train and ensures that everything feels as massive as the compositions demand. Giannopoulos’s powerful shriek is given enough space to shine, which lets his caustic delivery and repeated lyrical declarations of vitriol explode with a deserved venom. Drummer Gary Naples boasts a commanding drum tone, with enough modern punch across the kit for his tasteful gallops and tom work to shine through, while preserving a raw attack that serves the band well. Overall, the mix allows Motherless to sound like a cohesive unit, readymade for aural annihilation.

With Do You Feel Safe?, Motherless have released one of the strongest sludge metal albums of the year, one that lives up to band member’s impressive pedigrees. It’s a record which is as aggressive as it is addictive, that beckons repeated descents into its depraved sonic labyrinth. It’s a perfect soundtrack to a year where it’s felt like everything has gone wrong and all you can do is scream into the void as a response. If you need something to encapsulate the anguish of our modern era, Motherless are here for you, waiting with walls of distortion and clad in urban decay. When they shout “Do You Feel Safe?” you’ll whisper back “no.”

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s CBR MP3
Label: Prosthetic Records
Websites: motherlesschicago.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/Motherless-Chicago
Releases Worldwide: September 12th, 2025

#2025 #40 #AmericanMetal #BlackSheepWall #CrustPunk #DoYouFeelSafe_ #DoomMetal #Indian #LordMantis #Motherless #ProstheticRecords #Review #Reviews #Sep25 #Sludge #TheAtlasMoth #Thou #WithoutWaves

Motherless – Do You Feel Safe? Review

By Samguineous Maximus

Sometimes, you don’t need nuance. Sometimes you don’t want prog-soaked journeys through inner turmoil, or post-whatever atmospherics that whisper about pain instead of screaming it in your face. 1 Sometimes you just want music to sound like the goddamn world is on fire. Featuring members of Without Waves and site favorites The Atlas Moth, Chicago’s Motherless might have just that with their debut Do You Feel Safe? 2 Promising a slab of riff-driven sludge metal with “driving intensity that reflects both personal darkness and industrial urban weight,” Motherless seems poised to deliver a batch of vile tunes for the end times. Can these scene veterans succeed in making a compelling and punishing debut, or will they find themselves crushed under the fuzz-drenched weight of their own riffs?

The brand of sonic violence Motherless specializes in owes just as much to the depraved lineage of crust punk and d-beat as it does the virulent brand of blackened sludge from fellow Chicagoans Lord Mantis and Indian. Do You Feel Safe? eschews the aimless downtuned wandering often found in the style, instead careening between powerlifting-ready sludge killriffs and mosh-inducing hardcore parts at a breakneck pace. The result is a riffstorm that hits with the immediacy of Thou’s Umbilical, but cranked to about double the RPM (that’s riffs per minute, naturally). Even on longer songs, Motherless keep things interesting by injecting a slice of post-metal shimmer (“Darling, You Don’t Look Well”) and the serrated edge of Black Sheep Wall’s post-hardcore abrasion (“The New Romance”). Do You Feel Safe?’s brisk 33-minute runtime blows by in a way that sufficiently encourages drywall-punching, but its 8 tracks mix things up just enough as not to grow stale.

The core aggression of Do You Feel Safe? is driven by its formidable guitar work. The bludgeoning force of Anthony Cwan and Stavros Giannopoulos is as delectable as it is vile, adapting the expansive three-pronged guitar attack of The Atlas Moth and condensing it for maximum destructive capability. When they’re not blasting ahead on punkier cuts like “Reptile Dysfuntion” or the blackened aggression of “Abrupt Violence,” Motherless’s core riff flavor is that of sinister groove; built on open string intervals and syncopated chugs. Tracks like “You Seem So Damn Sure,” “Christian Math” and “Insect Politics” all center around devilishly infectious riffs, downtuned appropriately and engineered to ensure maximum headbangability. Bassist Alex Klien sticks close to the guitars, augmenting their effectiveness with a massive bass crunch. The central riff package is expanded with consistent lead guitars, which add atmosphere and textural nuance to the mammoth sludge on display.

This twisted display of aural decimation is matched by an equally punishing production job. Do You Feel Safe? features an all-star mix by Sanford Parker (Eyehategod, Yob, Darkthrone) and master by Brad Boatwright (Sleep, Obituary, Kylesa), whose impressive abilities are on full display. 3 This ensures that every palm-mute and distorted power chord from Motherless hits with the sonic impact of a freight train and ensures that everything feels as massive as the compositions demand. Giannopoulos’s powerful shriek is given enough space to shine, which lets his caustic delivery and repeated lyrical declarations of vitriol explode with a deserved venom. Drummer Gary Naples boasts a commanding drum tone, with enough modern punch across the kit for his tasteful gallops and tom work to shine through, while preserving a raw attack that serves the band well. Overall, the mix allows Motherless to sound like a cohesive unit, readymade for aural annihilation.

With Do You Feel Safe?, Motherless have released one of the strongest sludge metal albums of the year, one that lives up to band member’s impressive pedigrees. It’s a record which is as aggressive as it is addictive, that beckons repeated descents into its depraved sonic labyrinth. It’s a perfect soundtrack to a year where it’s felt like everything has gone wrong and all you can do is scream into the void as a response. If you need something to encapsulate the anguish of our modern era, Motherless are here for you, waiting with walls of distortion and clad in urban decay. When they shout “Do You Feel Safe?” you’ll whisper back “no.”

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s CBR MP3
Label: Prosthetic Records
Websites: motherlesschicago.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/Motherless-Chicago
Releases Worldwide: September 12th, 2025

#2025 #40 #AmericanMetal #BlackSheepWall #CrustPunk #DoYouFeelSafe_ #DoomMetal #Indian #LordMantis #Motherless #ProstheticRecords #Review #Reviews #Sep25 #Sludge #TheAtlasMoth #Thou #WithoutWaves

Motherless – Do You Feel Safe? Review

By Samguineous Maximus

Sometimes, you don’t need nuance. Sometimes you don’t want prog-soaked journeys through inner turmoil, or post-whatever atmospherics that whisper about pain instead of screaming it in your face. 1 Sometimes you just want music to sound like the goddamn world is on fire. Featuring members of Without Waves and site favorites The Atlas Moth, Chicago’s Motherless might have just that with their debut Do You Feel Safe? 2 Promising a slab of riff-driven sludge metal with “driving intensity that reflects both personal darkness and industrial urban weight,” Motherless seems poised to deliver a batch of vile tunes for the end times. Can these scene veterans succeed in making a compelling and punishing debut, or will they find themselves crushed under the fuzz-drenched weight of their own riffs?

The brand of sonic violence Motherless specializes in owes just as much to the depraved lineage of crust punk and d-beat as it does the virulent brand of blackened sludge from fellow Chicagoans Lord Mantis and Indian. Do You Feel Safe? eschews the aimless downtuned wandering often found in the style, instead careening between powerlifting-ready sludge killriffs and mosh-inducing hardcore parts at a breakneck pace. The result is a riffstorm that hits with the immediacy of Thou’s Umbilical, but cranked to about double the RPM (that’s riffs per minute, naturally). Even on longer songs, Motherless keep things interesting by injecting a slice of post-metal shimmer (“Darling, You Don’t Look Well”) and the serrated edge of Black Sheep Wall’s post-hardcore abrasion (“The New Romance”). Do You Feel Safe?’s brisk 33-minute runtime blows by in a way that sufficiently encourages drywall-punching, but its 8 tracks mix things up just enough as not to grow stale.

The core aggression of Do You Feel Safe? is driven by its formidable guitar work. The bludgeoning force of Anthony Cwan and Stavros Giannopoulos is as delectable as it is vile, adapting the expansive three-pronged guitar attack of The Atlas Moth and condensing it for maximum destructive capability. When they’re not blasting ahead on punkier cuts like “Reptile Dysfuntion” or the blackened aggression of “Abrupt Violence,” Motherless’s core riff flavor is that of sinister groove; built on open string intervals and syncopated chugs. Tracks like “You Seem So Damn Sure,” “Christian Math” and “Insect Politics” all center around devilishly infectious riffs, downtuned appropriately and engineered to ensure maximum headbangability. Bassist Alex Klien sticks close to the guitars, augmenting their effectiveness with a massive bass crunch. The central riff package is expanded with consistent lead guitars, which add atmosphere and textural nuance to the mammoth sludge on display.

This twisted display of aural decimation is matched by an equally punishing production job. Do You Feel Safe? features an all-star mix by Sanford Parker (Eyehategod, Yob, Darkthrone) and master by Brad Boatwright (Sleep, Obituary, Kylesa), whose impressive abilities are on full display. 3 This ensures that every palm-mute and distorted power chord from Motherless hits with the sonic impact of a freight train and ensures that everything feels as massive as the compositions demand. Giannopoulos’s powerful shriek is given enough space to shine, which lets his caustic delivery and repeated lyrical declarations of vitriol explode with a deserved venom. Drummer Gary Naples boasts a commanding drum tone, with enough modern punch across the kit for his tasteful gallops and tom work to shine through, while preserving a raw attack that serves the band well. Overall, the mix allows Motherless to sound like a cohesive unit, readymade for aural annihilation.

With Do You Feel Safe?, Motherless have released one of the strongest sludge metal albums of the year, one that lives up to band member’s impressive pedigrees. It’s a record which is as aggressive as it is addictive, that beckons repeated descents into its depraved sonic labyrinth. It’s a perfect soundtrack to a year where it’s felt like everything has gone wrong and all you can do is scream into the void as a response. If you need something to encapsulate the anguish of our modern era, Motherless are here for you, waiting with walls of distortion and clad in urban decay. When they shout “Do You Feel Safe?” you’ll whisper back “no.”

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s CBR MP3
Label: Prosthetic Records
Websites: motherlesschicago.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/Motherless-Chicago
Releases Worldwide: September 12th, 2025

#2025 #40 #AmericanMetal #BlackSheepWall #CrustPunk #DoYouFeelSafe_ #DoomMetal #Indian #LordMantis #Motherless #ProstheticRecords #Review #Reviews #Sep25 #Sludge #TheAtlasMoth #Thou #WithoutWaves

Motherless – Do You Feel Safe? Review

By Samguineous Maximus

Sometimes, you don’t need nuance. Sometimes you don’t want prog-soaked journeys through inner turmoil, or post-whatever atmospherics that whisper about pain instead of screaming it in your face. 1 Sometimes you just want music to sound like the goddamn world is on fire. Featuring members of Without Waves and site favorites The Atlas Moth, Chicago’s Motherless might have just that with their debut Do You Feel Safe? 2 Promising a slab of riff-driven sludge metal with “driving intensity that reflects both personal darkness and industrial urban weight,” Motherless seems poised to deliver a batch of vile tunes for the end times. Can these scene veterans succeed in making a compelling and punishing debut, or will they find themselves crushed under the fuzz-drenched weight of their own riffs?

The brand of sonic violence Motherless specializes in owes just as much to the depraved lineage of crust punk and d-beat as it does the virulent brand of blackened sludge from fellow Chicagoans Lord Mantis and Indian. Do You Feel Safe? eschews the aimless downtuned wandering often found in the style, instead careening between powerlifting-ready sludge killriffs and mosh-inducing hardcore parts at a breakneck pace. The result is a riffstorm that hits with the immediacy of Thou’s Umbilical, but cranked to about double the RPM (that’s riffs per minute, naturally). Even on longer songs, Motherless keep things interesting by injecting a slice of post-metal shimmer (“Darling, You Don’t Look Well”) and the serrated edge of Black Sheep Wall’s post-hardcore abrasion (“The New Romance”). Do You Feel Safe?’s brisk 33-minute runtime blows by in a way that sufficiently encourages drywall-punching, but its 8 tracks mix things up just enough as not to grow stale.

The core aggression of Do You Feel Safe? is driven by its formidable guitar work. The bludgeoning force of Anthony Cwan and Stavros Giannopoulos is as delectable as it is vile, adapting the expansive three-pronged guitar attack of The Atlas Moth and condensing it for maximum destructive capability. When they’re not blasting ahead on punkier cuts like “Reptile Dysfuntion” or the blackened aggression of “Abrupt Violence,” Motherless’s core riff flavor is that of sinister groove; built on open string intervals and syncopated chugs. Tracks like “You Seem So Damn Sure,” “Christian Math” and “Insect Politics” all center around devilishly infectious riffs, downtuned appropriately and engineered to ensure maximum headbangability. Bassist Alex Klien sticks close to the guitars, augmenting their effectiveness with a massive bass crunch. The central riff package is expanded with consistent lead guitars, which add atmosphere and textural nuance to the mammoth sludge on display.

This twisted display of aural decimation is matched by an equally punishing production job. Do You Feel Safe? features an all-star mix by Sanford Parker (Eyehategod, Yob, Darkthrone) and master by Brad Boatwright (Sleep, Obituary, Kylesa), whose impressive abilities are on full display. 3 This ensures that every palm-mute and distorted power chord from Motherless hits with the sonic impact of a freight train and ensures that everything feels as massive as the compositions demand. Giannopoulos’s powerful shriek is given enough space to shine, which lets his caustic delivery and repeated lyrical declarations of vitriol explode with a deserved venom. Drummer Gary Naples boasts a commanding drum tone, with enough modern punch across the kit for his tasteful gallops and tom work to shine through, while preserving a raw attack that serves the band well. Overall, the mix allows Motherless to sound like a cohesive unit, readymade for aural annihilation.

With Do You Feel Safe?, Motherless have released one of the strongest sludge metal albums of the year, one that lives up to band member’s impressive pedigrees. It’s a record which is as aggressive as it is addictive, that beckons repeated descents into its depraved sonic labyrinth. It’s a perfect soundtrack to a year where it’s felt like everything has gone wrong and all you can do is scream into the void as a response. If you need something to encapsulate the anguish of our modern era, Motherless are here for you, waiting with walls of distortion and clad in urban decay. When they shout “Do You Feel Safe?” you’ll whisper back “no.”

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s CBR MP3
Label: Prosthetic Records
Websites: motherlesschicago.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/Motherless-Chicago
Releases Worldwide: September 12th, 2025

#2025 #40 #AmericanMetal #BlackSheepWall #CrustPunk #DoYouFeelSafe_ #DoomMetal #Indian #LordMantis #Motherless #ProstheticRecords #Review #Reviews #Sep25 #Sludge #TheAtlasMoth #Thou #WithoutWaves

Blind Equation – A Funeral in Purgatory Review

By Kenstrosity

When I reach for something blindly, I hope for the best. As it pertains to the acquisition of promo, I calculate my chances of enjoying whatever I select as little as possible. Impulse reigns supreme, instinct takes precedence, gut feelings have the final say. This process ultimately led me to Chicago, Illinois’ Blind Equation. Originally launched as a chiptune-heavy cybergrind project, mastermind and main songwriter James McHenry steadily integrated other influences that distinguish this material from that of the greater subset. With A Funeral in Purgatory, written in the midst of great anguish and struggle on McHenry’s side, Blind Equation create their heaviest, most brutal, and yet most vulnerable and earnest work to date.

Resembling acts like DEATHTRIPPA, Blind Equation’s current iteration diversifies its palette with elements of goth and emo, death and doom, synthwave, and melodic black metal. To these ears, those attributes recall everything from AFI, Fires in the Distance, Silhouette, Gunship, and Labyrinthus Stellarum. Depressive tones and desperate wails reminiscent of Ghost Bath or Acathexis also meld beautifully with a hopeful atmospheric counterpoint—a reflection of McHenry’s use of songwriting as a mechanism for catharsis and healing during his darkest moments during A Funeral in Purgatory’s development. Brutal outbursts reminiscent of Anaal Nathrakh or Igorrr, and the occasional deathcore gravity blast, provide an additional dynamic that brings immense metallic heft to an affair that, to my knowledge, doesn’t utilize a single guitar. Unified, these myriad characteristics coalesce into something stylistically unique, instrumentally fascinating, and emotionally compelling.

More importantly, A Funeral in Purgatory is an absolute joy to experience. With contrasting numbers as divergent as my personal favorites, the blisteringly fast and exuberant “Flashback (ft. Strawberry Hospital)” and beautiful death doom closer “Incomplete,” you might expect A Funeral in Purgatory to be disjointed and haphazard. But the opposite is true. Blind Equation’s masterful, meticulous detailing brings unity and adhesion to the record, such that when I hear the eviscerating brutality of “… in Purgatory” juxtaposed against the vibrant gallop of “Flashback,” or the goth-soaked “Nothing” against the metalcore-breakcore mashup “it feels like the end (ft. JOHNNASCUS),” it feels natural and invigorating. An increased presence of slower, more dramatic passages in “A Funeral… ” and “Relinquished Dreams” allows Blind Equation’s heart-wrenching roars and introspective tones to shine through as the brilliant light of higher-pitched synths and chips fade, enhancing what are already compelling songs by creating deeper valleys and taller peaks. Ultimately, this approach to songwriting permitted me very little opportunity to correctly predict what happened next, while still capturing my attention so completely that with each new song I was ready, almost desperate, for the next twist to whip me into another dimension.

However, not all dimensions are created equal, and there are a couple here that don’t quite reach the same echelon as Blind Equation’s best. First and foremost are the interludes, “⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆✟⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺” and “still.” Musically, they are pretty and offer plenty of emotion, but don’t add enough to the storytelling to feel essential to the overall experience. I could argue the former brings novelty to the split title tracks “A Funeral… ” and “… in Purgatory,” but the requisite connective tissue is flimsy all the same. In a similar manner, “mourn” is somewhat lackluster compared to its album mates. This could be an unfortunate circumstance brought about by its barebones instrumentation, which is a stark departure from everything presented over the previous seven tracks. It could also be that its core ideas feel a touch underdeveloped by comparison. Either way, it represents one of A Funeral in Purgatory’s minor weak points. While in no way a detractor on their own merit, Blind Equation’s AFI-esque clean vocals, which only feature in the first three tracks, would bring even greater cohesion to the whole if they featured more consistently throughout.

It goes without saying that I didn’t expect what Blind Equation delivered, nor did I expect to like it this much. At the same time, I really shouldn’t be surprised at all, considering nearly all of my favorite records this year have been wild and unorthodox. A Funeral in Purgatory represents another entry in that varied category, of which there is no doubt. But it’s also one of the most fun and engaging electronic music releases I’ve encountered this year. So if you don’t mind your metal chipped to oblivion, laced with ecstasy, dressed in all black, with a raven perched on its shoulder, then A Funeral in Purgatory might just be your poison.

Rating: Very Good!
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Prosthetic Records
Websites: blindequation.bandcamp.com/album | facebook.com/blindequation
Releases Worldwide: July 18th, 2025

#2025 #35 #AFuneralInPurgatory #AFI #AmericanMetal #AnaalNathrakh #BlindEquation #Breakcore #Chiptune #Cybergrind #DeathMetal #DEATHTRIPPA #DoomMetal #DrumAndBass #ElectronicMetal #FiresInTheDistance #GothicMetal #Grind #Grindcore #Gunship #Igorrr #JOHNNASCUS #Jul25 #LabyrinthusStellarum #MelodicBlackMetal #Metalcore #ProstheticRecords #Review #Reviews #Silhouette #StrawberryHospital

Blind Equation – A Funeral in Purgatory Review

By Kenstrosity

When I reach for something blindly, I hope for the best. As it pertains to the acquisition of promo, I calculate my chances of enjoying whatever I select as little as possible. Impulse reigns supreme, instinct takes precedence, gut feelings have the final say. This process ultimately led me to Chicago, Illinois’ Blind Equation. Originally launched as a chiptune-heavy cybergrind project, mastermind and main songwriter James McHenry steadily integrated other influences that distinguish this material from that of the greater subset. With A Funeral in Purgatory, written in the midst of great anguish and struggle on McHenry’s side, Blind Equation create their heaviest, most brutal, and yet most vulnerable and earnest work to date.

Resembling acts like DEATHTRIPPA, Blind Equation’s current iteration diversifies its palette with elements of goth and emo, death and doom, synthwave, and melodic black metal. To these ears, those attributes recall everything from AFI, Fires in the Distance, Silhouette, Gunship, and Labyrinthus Stellarum. Depressive tones and desperate wails reminiscent of Ghost Bath or Acathexis also meld beautifully with a hopeful atmospheric counterpoint—a reflection of McHenry’s use of songwriting as a mechanism for catharsis and healing during his darkest moments during A Funeral in Purgatory’s development. Brutal outbursts reminiscent of Anaal Nathrakh or Igorrr, and the occasional deathcore gravity blast, provide an additional dynamic that brings immense metallic heft to an affair that, to my knowledge, doesn’t utilize a single guitar. Unified, these myriad characteristics coalesce into something stylistically unique, instrumentally fascinating, and emotionally compelling.

More importantly, A Funeral in Purgatory is an absolute joy to experience. With contrasting numbers as divergent as my personal favorites, the blisteringly fast and exuberant “Flashback (ft. Strawberry Hospital)” and beautiful death doom closer “Incomplete,” you might expect A Funeral in Purgatory to be disjointed and haphazard. But the opposite is true. Blind Equation’s masterful, meticulous detailing brings unity and adhesion to the record, such that when I hear the eviscerating brutality of “… in Purgatory” juxtaposed against the vibrant gallop of “Flashback,” or the goth-soaked “Nothing” against the metalcore-breakcore mashup “it feels like the end (ft. JOHNNASCUS),” it feels natural and invigorating. An increased presence of slower, more dramatic passages in “A Funeral… ” and “Relinquished Dreams” allows Blind Equation’s heart-wrenching roars and introspective tones to shine through as the brilliant light of higher-pitched synths and chips fade, enhancing what are already compelling songs by creating deeper valleys and taller peaks. Ultimately, this approach to songwriting permitted me very little opportunity to correctly predict what happened next, while still capturing my attention so completely that with each new song I was ready, almost desperate, for the next twist to whip me into another dimension.

However, not all dimensions are created equal, and there are a couple here that don’t quite reach the same echelon as Blind Equation’s best. First and foremost are the interludes, “⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆✟⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺” and “still.” Musically, they are pretty and offer plenty of emotion, but don’t add enough to the storytelling to feel essential to the overall experience. I could argue the former brings novelty to the split title tracks “A Funeral… ” and “… in Purgatory,” but the requisite connective tissue is flimsy all the same. In a similar manner, “mourn” is somewhat lackluster compared to its album mates. This could be an unfortunate circumstance brought about by its barebones instrumentation, which is a stark departure from everything presented over the previous seven tracks. It could also be that its core ideas feel a touch underdeveloped by comparison. Either way, it represents one of A Funeral in Purgatory’s minor weak points. While in no way a detractor on their own merit, Blind Equation’s AFI-esque clean vocals, which only feature in the first three tracks, would bring even greater cohesion to the whole if they featured more consistently throughout.

It goes without saying that I didn’t expect what Blind Equation delivered, nor did I expect to like it this much. At the same time, I really shouldn’t be surprised at all, considering nearly all of my favorite records this year have been wild and unorthodox. A Funeral in Purgatory represents another entry in that varied category, of which there is no doubt. But it’s also one of the most fun and engaging electronic music releases I’ve encountered this year. So if you don’t mind your metal chipped to oblivion, laced with ecstasy, dressed in all black, with a raven perched on its shoulder, then A Funeral in Purgatory might just be your poison.

Rating: Very Good!
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Prosthetic Records
Websites: blindequation.bandcamp.com/album | facebook.com/blindequation
Releases Worldwide: July 18th, 2025

#2025 #35 #AFuneralInPurgatory #AFI #AmericanMetal #AnaalNathrakh #BlindEquation #Breakcore #Chiptune #Cybergrind #DeathMetal #DEATHTRIPPA #DoomMetal #DrumAndBass #ElectronicMetal #FiresInTheDistance #GothicMetal #Grind #Grindcore #Gunship #Igorrr #JOHNNASCUS #Jul25 #LabyrinthusStellarum #MelodicBlackMetal #Metalcore #ProstheticRecords #Review #Reviews #Silhouette #StrawberryHospital

Blind Equation – A Funeral in Purgatory Review

By Kenstrosity

When I reach for something blindly, I hope for the best. As it pertains to the acquisition of promo, I calculate my chances of enjoying whatever I select as little as possible. Impulse reigns supreme, instinct takes precedence, gut feelings have the final say. This process ultimately led me to Chicago, Illinois’ Blind Equation. Originally launched as a chiptune-heavy cybergrind project, mastermind and main songwriter James McHenry steadily integrated other influences that distinguish this material from that of the greater subset. With A Funeral in Purgatory, written in the midst of great anguish and struggle on McHenry’s side, Blind Equation create their heaviest, most brutal, and yet most vulnerable and earnest work to date.

Resembling acts like DEATHTRIPPA, Blind Equation’s current iteration diversifies its palette with elements of goth and emo, death and doom, synthwave, and melodic black metal. To these ears, those attributes recall everything from AFI, Fires in the Distance, Silhouette, Gunship, and Labyrinthus Stellarum. Depressive tones and desperate wails reminiscent of Ghost Bath or Acathexis also meld beautifully with a hopeful atmospheric counterpoint—a reflection of McHenry’s use of songwriting as a mechanism for catharsis and healing during his darkest moments during A Funeral in Purgatory’s development. Brutal outbursts reminiscent of Anaal Nathrakh or Igorrr, and the occasional deathcore gravity blast, provide an additional dynamic that brings immense metallic heft to an affair that, to my knowledge, doesn’t utilize a single guitar. Unified, these myriad characteristics coalesce into something stylistically unique, instrumentally fascinating, and emotionally compelling.

More importantly, A Funeral in Purgatory is an absolute joy to experience. With contrasting numbers as divergent as my personal favorites, the blisteringly fast and exuberant “Flashback (ft. Strawberry Hospital)” and beautiful death doom closer “Incomplete,” you might expect A Funeral in Purgatory to be disjointed and haphazard. But the opposite is true. Blind Equation’s masterful, meticulous detailing brings unity and adhesion to the record, such that when I hear the eviscerating brutality of “… in Purgatory” juxtaposed against the vibrant gallop of “Flashback,” or the goth-soaked “Nothing” against the metalcore-breakcore mashup “it feels like the end (ft. JOHNNASCUS),” it feels natural and invigorating. An increased presence of slower, more dramatic passages in “A Funeral… ” and “Relinquished Dreams” allows Blind Equation’s heart-wrenching roars and introspective tones to shine through as the brilliant light of higher-pitched synths and chips fade, enhancing what are already compelling songs by creating deeper valleys and taller peaks. Ultimately, this approach to songwriting permitted me very little opportunity to correctly predict what happened next, while still capturing my attention so completely that with each new song I was ready, almost desperate, for the next twist to whip me into another dimension.

However, not all dimensions are created equal, and there are a couple here that don’t quite reach the same echelon as Blind Equation’s best. First and foremost are the interludes, “⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆✟⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺” and “still.” Musically, they are pretty and offer plenty of emotion, but don’t add enough to the storytelling to feel essential to the overall experience. I could argue the former brings novelty to the split title tracks “A Funeral… ” and “… in Purgatory,” but the requisite connective tissue is flimsy all the same. In a similar manner, “mourn” is somewhat lackluster compared to its album mates. This could be an unfortunate circumstance brought about by its barebones instrumentation, which is a stark departure from everything presented over the previous seven tracks. It could also be that its core ideas feel a touch underdeveloped by comparison. Either way, it represents one of A Funeral in Purgatory’s minor weak points. While in no way a detractor on their own merit, Blind Equation’s AFI-esque clean vocals, which only feature in the first three tracks, would bring even greater cohesion to the whole if they featured more consistently throughout.

It goes without saying that I didn’t expect what Blind Equation delivered, nor did I expect to like it this much. At the same time, I really shouldn’t be surprised at all, considering nearly all of my favorite records this year have been wild and unorthodox. A Funeral in Purgatory represents another entry in that varied category, of which there is no doubt. But it’s also one of the most fun and engaging electronic music releases I’ve encountered this year. So if you don’t mind your metal chipped to oblivion, laced with ecstasy, dressed in all black, with a raven perched on its shoulder, then A Funeral in Purgatory might just be your poison.

Rating: Very Good!
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Prosthetic Records
Websites: blindequation.bandcamp.com/album | facebook.com/blindequation
Releases Worldwide: July 18th, 2025

#2025 #35 #AFuneralInPurgatory #AFI #AmericanMetal #AnaalNathrakh #BlindEquation #Breakcore #Chiptune #Cybergrind #DeathMetal #DEATHTRIPPA #DoomMetal #DrumAndBass #ElectronicMetal #FiresInTheDistance #GothicMetal #Grind #Grindcore #Gunship #Igorrr #JOHNNASCUS #Jul25 #LabyrinthusStellarum #MelodicBlackMetal #Metalcore #ProstheticRecords #Review #Reviews #Silhouette #StrawberryHospital

Blind Equation – A Funeral in Purgatory Review

By Kenstrosity

When I reach for something blindly, I hope for the best. As it pertains to the acquisition of promo, I calculate my chances of enjoying whatever I select as little as possible. Impulse reigns supreme, instinct takes precedence, gut feelings have the final say. This process ultimately led me to Chicago, Illinois’ Blind Equation. Originally launched as a chiptune-heavy cybergrind project, mastermind and main songwriter James McHenry steadily integrated other influences that distinguish this material from that of the greater subset. With A Funeral in Purgatory, written in the midst of great anguish and struggle on McHenry’s side, Blind Equation create their heaviest, most brutal, and yet most vulnerable and earnest work to date.

Resembling acts like DEATHTRIPPA, Blind Equation’s current iteration diversifies its palette with elements of goth and emo, death and doom, synthwave, and melodic black metal. To these ears, those attributes recall everything from AFI, Fires in the Distance, Silhouette, Gunship, and Labyrinthus Stellarum. Depressive tones and desperate wails reminiscent of Ghost Bath or Acathexis also meld beautifully with a hopeful atmospheric counterpoint—a reflection of McHenry’s use of songwriting as a mechanism for catharsis and healing during his darkest moments during A Funeral in Purgatory’s development. Brutal outbursts reminiscent of Anaal Nathrakh or Igorrr, and the occasional deathcore gravity blast, provide an additional dynamic that brings immense metallic heft to an affair that, to my knowledge, doesn’t utilize a single guitar. Unified, these myriad characteristics coalesce into something stylistically unique, instrumentally fascinating, and emotionally compelling.

More importantly, A Funeral in Purgatory is an absolute joy to experience. With contrasting numbers as divergent as my personal favorites, the blisteringly fast and exuberant “Flashback (ft. Strawberry Hospital)” and beautiful death doom closer “Incomplete,” you might expect A Funeral in Purgatory to be disjointed and haphazard. But the opposite is true. Blind Equation’s masterful, meticulous detailing brings unity and adhesion to the record, such that when I hear the eviscerating brutality of “… in Purgatory” juxtaposed against the vibrant gallop of “Flashback,” or the goth-soaked “Nothing” against the metalcore-breakcore mashup “it feels like the end (ft. JOHNNASCUS),” it feels natural and invigorating. An increased presence of slower, more dramatic passages in “A Funeral… ” and “Relinquished Dreams” allows Blind Equation’s heart-wrenching roars and introspective tones to shine through as the brilliant light of higher-pitched synths and chips fade, enhancing what are already compelling songs by creating deeper valleys and taller peaks. Ultimately, this approach to songwriting permitted me very little opportunity to correctly predict what happened next, while still capturing my attention so completely that with each new song I was ready, almost desperate, for the next twist to whip me into another dimension.

However, not all dimensions are created equal, and there are a couple here that don’t quite reach the same echelon as Blind Equation’s best. First and foremost are the interludes, “⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆✟⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺” and “still.” Musically, they are pretty and offer plenty of emotion, but don’t add enough to the storytelling to feel essential to the overall experience. I could argue the former brings novelty to the split title tracks “A Funeral… ” and “… in Purgatory,” but the requisite connective tissue is flimsy all the same. In a similar manner, “mourn” is somewhat lackluster compared to its album mates. This could be an unfortunate circumstance brought about by its barebones instrumentation, which is a stark departure from everything presented over the previous seven tracks. It could also be that its core ideas feel a touch underdeveloped by comparison. Either way, it represents one of A Funeral in Purgatory’s minor weak points. While in no way a detractor on their own merit, Blind Equation’s AFI-esque clean vocals, which only feature in the first three tracks, would bring even greater cohesion to the whole if they featured more consistently throughout.

It goes without saying that I didn’t expect what Blind Equation delivered, nor did I expect to like it this much. At the same time, I really shouldn’t be surprised at all, considering nearly all of my favorite records this year have been wild and unorthodox. A Funeral in Purgatory represents another entry in that varied category, of which there is no doubt. But it’s also one of the most fun and engaging electronic music releases I’ve encountered this year. So if you don’t mind your metal chipped to oblivion, laced with ecstasy, dressed in all black, with a raven perched on its shoulder, then A Funeral in Purgatory might just be your poison.

Rating: Very Good!
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Prosthetic Records
Websites: blindequation.bandcamp.com/album | facebook.com/blindequation
Releases Worldwide: July 18th, 2025

#2025 #35 #AFuneralInPurgatory #AFI #AmericanMetal #AnaalNathrakh #BlindEquation #Breakcore #Chiptune #Cybergrind #DeathMetal #DEATHTRIPPA #DoomMetal #DrumAndBass #ElectronicMetal #FiresInTheDistance #GothicMetal #Grind #Grindcore #Gunship #Igorrr #JOHNNASCUS #Jul25 #LabyrinthusStellarum #MelodicBlackMetal #Metalcore #ProstheticRecords #Review #Reviews #Silhouette #StrawberryHospital

Blind Equation – A Funeral in Purgatory Review

By Kenstrosity

When I reach for something blindly, I hope for the best. As it pertains to the acquisition of promo, I calculate my chances of enjoying whatever I select as little as possible. Impulse reigns supreme, instinct takes precedence, gut feelings have the final say. This process ultimately led me to Chicago, Illinois’ Blind Equation. Originally launched as a chiptune-heavy cybergrind project, mastermind and main songwriter James McHenry steadily integrated other influences that distinguish this material from that of the greater subset. With A Funeral in Purgatory, written in the midst of great anguish and struggle on McHenry’s side, Blind Equation create their heaviest, most brutal, and yet most vulnerable and earnest work to date.

Resembling acts like DEATHTRIPPA, Blind Equation’s current iteration diversifies its palette with elements of goth and emo, death and doom, synthwave, and melodic black metal. To these ears, those attributes recall everything from AFI, Fires in the Distance, Silhouette, Gunship, and Labyrinthus Stellarum. Depressive tones and desperate wails reminiscent of Ghost Bath or Acathexis also meld beautifully with a hopeful atmospheric counterpoint—a reflection of McHenry’s use of songwriting as a mechanism for catharsis and healing during his darkest moments during A Funeral in Purgatory’s development. Brutal outbursts reminiscent of Anaal Nathrakh or Igorrr, and the occasional deathcore gravity blast, provide an additional dynamic that brings immense metallic heft to an affair that, to my knowledge, doesn’t utilize a single guitar. Unified, these myriad characteristics coalesce into something stylistically unique, instrumentally fascinating, and emotionally compelling.

More importantly, A Funeral in Purgatory is an absolute joy to experience. With contrasting numbers as divergent as my personal favorites, the blisteringly fast and exuberant “Flashback (ft. Strawberry Hospital)” and beautiful death doom closer “Incomplete,” you might expect A Funeral in Purgatory to be disjointed and haphazard. But the opposite is true. Blind Equation’s masterful, meticulous detailing brings unity and adhesion to the record, such that when I hear the eviscerating brutality of “… in Purgatory” juxtaposed against the vibrant gallop of “Flashback,” or the goth-soaked “Nothing” against the metalcore-breakcore mashup “it feels like the end (ft. JOHNNASCUS),” it feels natural and invigorating. An increased presence of slower, more dramatic passages in “A Funeral… ” and “Relinquished Dreams” allows Blind Equation’s heart-wrenching roars and introspective tones to shine through as the brilliant light of higher-pitched synths and chips fade, enhancing what are already compelling songs by creating deeper valleys and taller peaks. Ultimately, this approach to songwriting permitted me very little opportunity to correctly predict what happened next, while still capturing my attention so completely that with each new song I was ready, almost desperate, for the next twist to whip me into another dimension.

However, not all dimensions are created equal, and there are a couple here that don’t quite reach the same echelon as Blind Equation’s best. First and foremost are the interludes, “⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆✟⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺” and “still.” Musically, they are pretty and offer plenty of emotion, but don’t add enough to the storytelling to feel essential to the overall experience. I could argue the former brings novelty to the split title tracks “A Funeral… ” and “… in Purgatory,” but the requisite connective tissue is flimsy all the same. In a similar manner, “mourn” is somewhat lackluster compared to its album mates. This could be an unfortunate circumstance brought about by its barebones instrumentation, which is a stark departure from everything presented over the previous seven tracks. It could also be that its core ideas feel a touch underdeveloped by comparison. Either way, it represents one of A Funeral in Purgatory’s minor weak points. While in no way a detractor on their own merit, Blind Equation’s AFI-esque clean vocals, which only feature in the first three tracks, would bring even greater cohesion to the whole if they featured more consistently throughout.

It goes without saying that I didn’t expect what Blind Equation delivered, nor did I expect to like it this much. At the same time, I really shouldn’t be surprised at all, considering nearly all of my favorite records this year have been wild and unorthodox. A Funeral in Purgatory represents another entry in that varied category, of which there is no doubt. But it’s also one of the most fun and engaging electronic music releases I’ve encountered this year. So if you don’t mind your metal chipped to oblivion, laced with ecstasy, dressed in all black, with a raven perched on its shoulder, then A Funeral in Purgatory might just be your poison.

Rating: Very Good!
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Prosthetic Records
Websites: blindequation.bandcamp.com/album | facebook.com/blindequation
Releases Worldwide: July 18th, 2025

#2025 #35 #AFuneralInPurgatory #AFI #AmericanMetal #AnaalNathrakh #BlindEquation #Breakcore #Chiptune #Cybergrind #DeathMetal #DEATHTRIPPA #DoomMetal #DrumAndBass #ElectronicMetal #FiresInTheDistance #GothicMetal #Grind #Grindcore #Gunship #Igorrr #JOHNNASCUS #Jul25 #LabyrinthusStellarum #MelodicBlackMetal #Metalcore #ProstheticRecords #Review #Reviews #Silhouette #StrawberryHospital

MNRK Music Group acquires Prosthetic Records

#ProstheticRecords #MNRK #MNRKMusicGroup #News

Link: https://metalinsider.net/news/mnrk-music-group-acquires-prosthetic-records

MNRK Music Group acquires Prosthetic Records

#ProstheticRecords #MNRK #MNRKMusicGroup #News

Link: https://metalinsider.net/news/mnrk-music-group-acquires-prosthetic-records

MNRK Music Group acquires Prosthetic Records

#ProstheticRecords #MNRK #MNRKMusicGroup #News

Link: https://metalinsider.net/news/mnrk-music-group-acquires-prosthetic-records

#PROSTHETICRECORDS Acquired By #MNRKMUSICGROUP

https://blabbermouth.net/news/prosthetic-records-acquired-by-mnrk-music-group

#metalmusic #musicnews

#PROSTHETICRECORDS Acquired By #MNRKMUSICGROUP

https://blabbermouth.net/news/prosthetic-records-acquired-by-mnrk-music-group

#metalmusic #musicnews

#PROSTHETICRECORDS Acquired By #MNRKMUSICGROUP

https://blabbermouth.net/news/prosthetic-records-acquired-by-mnrk-music-group

#metalmusic #musicnews

#PROSTHETICRECORDS Acquired By #MNRKMUSICGROUP

https://blabbermouth.net/news/prosthetic-records-acquired-by-mnrk-music-group

#metalmusic #musicnews

#PROSTHETICRECORDS Acquired By #MNRKMUSICGROUP

https://blabbermouth.net/news/prosthetic-records-acquired-by-mnrk-music-group

#metalmusic #musicnews

Svarta Havet – Månen Ska Lysa Din Väg Review

By Kenstrosity

Hailing from Turku, Finland, post-hardcore/blackened post-punk activists Svarta Havet boast a passionate mission statement focused on denouncing fascism; raising connected communities; advocating queer, feminist, and transgender rights and justice; rejecting late-stage capitalist values and recognizing their wide reaching damages to society and the planet; and supporting animal rights. Oftentimes, material dealing with these ideals in the heavy music space trend towards the cynical, hopeless, and bitter perspectives. Those are all valid emotional responses of course, but for Svarta Havet, the primary message is one of hope. These Finns truly believe humanity can turn it around, and make the right choices together to one day repair our connection to ourselves as human beings, to the Earth as stewards of its land and inseparable members of the greater ecosystem, and to our communities as social creatures who thrive together and not apart.

It’s this message that drew me to Svarta Havet, at Steel’s recommendation, having never heard a note of their music before. What I beheld in their sophomore record, Månen Ska Lysa Din Väg, is exactly what my promo says on the tin. Post-punk and post-hardcore, with a blackened char. Comparisons to Oathbreaker, Unfurl, and early Downfall of Gaia fit right at home within Svarta Havet’s, albeit more stripped-down interpretation of the style. Building bridges between airy atmosphere and driven, punky attitudes, Månen Ska Lysa Din Väg boasts a variety of moods, textures, and tempos to help enliven each of its tight 37 minutes. At the same time, it sports a bleak, monochromatic tone that grounds its lively performances inside the reality of our world. With this intriguing formula, Svarta Havet achieve a sound rooted in the trials and tribulations of society in the current era while the fire of change, of hope, and of a deep yearning for a better tomorrow roils just underfoot.

Because Svarta Havet designed Månen Ska Lysa Din Väg to deliver hopeful, motivating messaging to its audience, I understood why many of these songs aren’t as aggressive, depressive, or explosive as my aforementioned reference points. When “Härlig Är Jorden” implements a slower, more deliberate motif as its primary structure right after opener “Göm Dig” lays across the landscape its blackened post-punk blade, the intent is clear. Månen Ska Lysa Din Väg is a record for those who wish to listen with an active, open mind, separated from the primal need for relentless riffs and uncompromising violence. As “Avgrunden” and later MENA-influenced cut “Djur” raise themselves above the horizon with looming, overcast moods and textured leads, the grim reality of the world is placed firmly in the foreground. However, interspersed within those themes, a counterpoint of inspirational, almost exuberant tremolos and ascendant atmospheric blooms belie that spirit which is unwilling to yield to the shadows. “Göm Dig” and “Alla Stover” stoke that fire with the most riff-centric material Svarta Havet have to offer in this installment, brimming with a lively swagger and a punky attitude. In this back-and-forth, Månen Ska Lysa Din Väg succeeds in its mission of finding the light in a world that’s lost its way.

The main roadblock to making this record stand out more is one of balance in its compositions. Too often, passages which establish their purpose and achieve their desired effect within the first minute or two extend far past that point, which compromises their impact (“Härlig Är Jorden,” “Ditt Rike”). Sometimes this detrimental quality comes about in the form of a heavy reliance on baseline repetition. Other times, it manifests in a meandering passage whose resolution doesn’t always justify the wait. In other areas, Svarta Havet’s heavier passages can seem overly busy when placed as they are next to more thoughtful pieces (particularly the chorus to “Alla Stover”). Another byproduct of the imbalance Månen Ska Lysa Din Väg carries, the most memorable material leaves very little room for the in-betweens to make a lasting impression. I easily recall “Djur” for its doom-laden riffs and hypnotic depiction of those scenes of war that devastate the same animal ecosystems to which we all intrinsically belong, but I can’t remember a note of its sequel “Under Staden.” This is especially conflicting as “Under Staden” is arguably the more important of the two to Svarta Havet’s mission, spotlighting the remarkable resilience we see in nature, particularly in animals and insects, within sprawling artificial developments.

When the dust settles, and Månen Ska Lysa Din Väg heaves its last blackened breath, I find myself torn. I love the intent and passion Svarta Havet instilled within their sophomore album, and I think this style of music beautifully fits the prompt. However, I yearn to feel an unbridled enthusiasm for Månen Ska Lysa Din Väg that keeps me coming back for more without a second thought. Instead, I feel a respectable excitement for what Svarta Havet might do to develop their material further going forward. So I wait, on the edge of my seat, to hear what they do next.

Rating: Mixed
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Prosthetic Records
Website: facebook.com/svartahafvet
Releases Worldwide: May 9th, 2025

#25 #2025 #BlackMetal #DownfallOfGaia #FinnishMetal #MånenSkaLysaDinVäg #May25 #Oathbreaker #PostBlackMetal #PostHardcore #PostMetal #postPunk #ProstheticRecords #Review #Reviews #SvartaHavet #Unfurl

Svarta Havet – Månen Ska Lysa Din Väg Review

By Kenstrosity

Hailing from Turku, Finland, post-hardcore/blackened post-punk activists Svarta Havet boast a passionate mission statement focused on denouncing fascism; raising connected communities; advocating queer, feminist, and transgender rights and justice; rejecting late-stage capitalist values and recognizing their wide reaching damages to society and the planet; and supporting animal rights. Oftentimes, material dealing with these ideals in the heavy music space trend towards the cynical, hopeless, and bitter perspectives. Those are all valid emotional responses of course, but for Svarta Havet, the primary message is one of hope. These Finns truly believe humanity can turn it around, and make the right choices together to one day repair our connection to ourselves as human beings, to the Earth as stewards of its land and inseparable members of the greater ecosystem, and to our communities as social creatures who thrive together and not apart.

It’s this message that drew me to Svarta Havet, at Steel’s recommendation, having never heard a note of their music before. What I beheld in their sophomore record, Månen Ska Lysa Din Väg, is exactly what my promo says on the tin. Post-punk and post-hardcore, with a blackened char. Comparisons to Oathbreaker, Unfurl, and early Downfall of Gaia fit right at home within Svarta Havet’s, albeit more stripped-down interpretation of the style. Building bridges between airy atmosphere and driven, punky attitudes, Månen Ska Lysa Din Väg boasts a variety of moods, textures, and tempos to help enliven each of its tight 37 minutes. At the same time, it sports a bleak, monochromatic tone that grounds its lively performances inside the reality of our world. With this intriguing formula, Svarta Havet achieve a sound rooted in the trials and tribulations of society in the current era while the fire of change, of hope, and of a deep yearning for a better tomorrow roils just underfoot.

Because Svarta Havet designed Månen Ska Lysa Din Väg to deliver hopeful, motivating messaging to its audience, I understood why many of these songs aren’t as aggressive, depressive, or explosive as my aforementioned reference points. When “Härlig Är Jorden” implements a slower, more deliberate motif as its primary structure right after opener “Göm Dig” lays across the landscape its blackened post-punk blade, the intent is clear. Månen Ska Lysa Din Väg is a record for those who wish to listen with an active, open mind, separated from the primal need for relentless riffs and uncompromising violence. As “Avgrunden” and later MENA-influenced cut “Djur” raise themselves above the horizon with looming, overcast moods and textured leads, the grim reality of the world is placed firmly in the foreground. However, interspersed within those themes, a counterpoint of inspirational, almost exuberant tremolos and ascendant atmospheric blooms belie that spirit which is unwilling to yield to the shadows. “Göm Dig” and “Alla Stover” stoke that fire with the most riff-centric material Svarta Havet have to offer in this installment, brimming with a lively swagger and a punky attitude. In this back-and-forth, Månen Ska Lysa Din Väg succeeds in its mission of finding the light in a world that’s lost its way.

The main roadblock to making this record stand out more is one of balance in its compositions. Too often, passages which establish their purpose and achieve their desired effect within the first minute or two extend far past that point, which compromises their impact (“Härlig Är Jorden,” “Ditt Rike”). Sometimes this detrimental quality comes about in the form of a heavy reliance on baseline repetition. Other times, it manifests in a meandering passage whose resolution doesn’t always justify the wait. In other areas, Svarta Havet’s heavier passages can seem overly busy when placed as they are next to more thoughtful pieces (particularly the chorus to “Alla Stover”). Another byproduct of the imbalance Månen Ska Lysa Din Väg carries, the most memorable material leaves very little room for the in-betweens to make a lasting impression. I easily recall “Djur” for its doom-laden riffs and hypnotic depiction of those scenes of war that devastate the same animal ecosystems to which we all intrinsically belong, but I can’t remember a note of its sequel “Under Staden.” This is especially conflicting as “Under Staden” is arguably the more important of the two to Svarta Havet’s mission, spotlighting the remarkable resilience we see in nature, particularly in animals and insects, within sprawling artificial developments.

When the dust settles, and Månen Ska Lysa Din Väg heaves its last blackened breath, I find myself torn. I love the intent and passion Svarta Havet instilled within their sophomore album, and I think this style of music beautifully fits the prompt. However, I yearn to feel an unbridled enthusiasm for Månen Ska Lysa Din Väg that keeps me coming back for more without a second thought. Instead, I feel a respectable excitement for what Svarta Havet might do to develop their material further going forward. So I wait, on the edge of my seat, to hear what they do next.

Rating: Mixed
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Prosthetic Records
Website: facebook.com/svartahafvet
Releases Worldwide: May 9th, 2025

#25 #2025 #BlackMetal #DownfallOfGaia #FinnishMetal #MånenSkaLysaDinVäg #May25 #Oathbreaker #PostBlackMetal #PostHardcore #PostMetal #postPunk #ProstheticRecords #Review #Reviews #SvartaHavet #Unfurl

Svarta Havet – Månen Ska Lysa Din Väg Review

By Kenstrosity

Hailing from Turku, Finland, post-hardcore/blackened post-punk activists Svarta Havet boast a passionate mission statement focused on denouncing fascism; raising connected communities; advocating queer, feminist, and transgender rights and justice; rejecting late-stage capitalist values and recognizing their wide reaching damages to society and the planet; and supporting animal rights. Oftentimes, material dealing with these ideals in the heavy music space trend towards the cynical, hopeless, and bitter perspectives. Those are all valid emotional responses of course, but for Svarta Havet, the primary message is one of hope. These Finns truly believe humanity can turn it around, and make the right choices together to one day repair our connection to ourselves as human beings, to the Earth as stewards of its land and inseparable members of the greater ecosystem, and to our communities as social creatures who thrive together and not apart.

It’s this message that drew me to Svarta Havet, at Steel’s recommendation, having never heard a note of their music before. What I beheld in their sophomore record, Månen Ska Lysa Din Väg, is exactly what my promo says on the tin. Post-punk and post-hardcore, with a blackened char. Comparisons to Oathbreaker, Unfurl, and early Downfall of Gaia fit right at home within Svarta Havet’s, albeit more stripped-down interpretation of the style. Building bridges between airy atmosphere and driven, punky attitudes, Månen Ska Lysa Din Väg boasts a variety of moods, textures, and tempos to help enliven each of its tight 37 minutes. At the same time, it sports a bleak, monochromatic tone that grounds its lively performances inside the reality of our world. With this intriguing formula, Svarta Havet achieve a sound rooted in the trials and tribulations of society in the current era while the fire of change, of hope, and of a deep yearning for a better tomorrow roils just underfoot.

Because Svarta Havet designed Månen Ska Lysa Din Väg to deliver hopeful, motivating messaging to its audience, I understood why many of these songs aren’t as aggressive, depressive, or explosive as my aforementioned reference points. When “Härlig Är Jorden” implements a slower, more deliberate motif as its primary structure right after opener “Göm Dig” lays across the landscape its blackened post-punk blade, the intent is clear. Månen Ska Lysa Din Väg is a record for those who wish to listen with an active, open mind, separated from the primal need for relentless riffs and uncompromising violence. As “Avgrunden” and later MENA-influenced cut “Djur” raise themselves above the horizon with looming, overcast moods and textured leads, the grim reality of the world is placed firmly in the foreground. However, interspersed within those themes, a counterpoint of inspirational, almost exuberant tremolos and ascendant atmospheric blooms belie that spirit which is unwilling to yield to the shadows. “Göm Dig” and “Alla Stover” stoke that fire with the most riff-centric material Svarta Havet have to offer in this installment, brimming with a lively swagger and a punky attitude. In this back-and-forth, Månen Ska Lysa Din Väg succeeds in its mission of finding the light in a world that’s lost its way.

The main roadblock to making this record stand out more is one of balance in its compositions. Too often, passages which establish their purpose and achieve their desired effect within the first minute or two extend far past that point, which compromises their impact (“Härlig Är Jorden,” “Ditt Rike”). Sometimes this detrimental quality comes about in the form of a heavy reliance on baseline repetition. Other times, it manifests in a meandering passage whose resolution doesn’t always justify the wait. In other areas, Svarta Havet’s heavier passages can seem overly busy when placed as they are next to more thoughtful pieces (particularly the chorus to “Alla Stover”). Another byproduct of the imbalance Månen Ska Lysa Din Väg carries, the most memorable material leaves very little room for the in-betweens to make a lasting impression. I easily recall “Djur” for its doom-laden riffs and hypnotic depiction of those scenes of war that devastate the same animal ecosystems to which we all intrinsically belong, but I can’t remember a note of its sequel “Under Staden.” This is especially conflicting as “Under Staden” is arguably the more important of the two to Svarta Havet’s mission, spotlighting the remarkable resilience we see in nature, particularly in animals and insects, within sprawling artificial developments.

When the dust settles, and Månen Ska Lysa Din Väg heaves its last blackened breath, I find myself torn. I love the intent and passion Svarta Havet instilled within their sophomore album, and I think this style of music beautifully fits the prompt. However, I yearn to feel an unbridled enthusiasm for Månen Ska Lysa Din Väg that keeps me coming back for more without a second thought. Instead, I feel a respectable excitement for what Svarta Havet might do to develop their material further going forward. So I wait, on the edge of my seat, to hear what they do next.

Rating: Mixed
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Prosthetic Records
Website: facebook.com/svartahafvet
Releases Worldwide: May 9th, 2025

#25 #2025 #BlackMetal #DownfallOfGaia #FinnishMetal #MånenSkaLysaDinVäg #May25 #Oathbreaker #PostBlackMetal #PostHardcore #PostMetal #postPunk #ProstheticRecords #Review #Reviews #SvartaHavet #Unfurl

Tómarúm – Beyond Obsidian Euphoria

By Kenstrosity

Over the past three years, I’ve come to appreciate Tómarúm’s surprising, mature debut Ash in Realms of Stone Icons at a deeper level than I had hoped to reach in the mere two weeks provided at the time. While I stand by my overall score—and by my critiques—my relationship with that record grew more meaningful and rewarding with time. Tómarúm’s spiritually charged, introspective point of view speaks volumes of suffering and strife, while the complexity of their musical compositions reflects in uncompromising clarity the fluid order that governs a turbulent chaos of the soul and of the heart. With this fresh in mind, I approach follow-up Beyond Obsidian Euphoria with great curiosity and equal anticipation.

Occupying a niche of progressive metal most commonly associated with acts like Ne Obliviscaris, but also connected to newer groups such as Amiensus, An Abstract Illusion, and Dawn of Ouroboros, Atlanta quintet Tómarúm boast an especially fluid and emotive sound. Progressive structures and ever-shifting phrases abound, yet never intrude, obstruct, or interrupt. Technical prowess reminiscent of Fallujah and Lunar Chamber creates additional dynamics most noticeably felt in the bass guitar, lead guitar, and drum performances. And, to my great delight, a new twist of machine-gun burst riffing pulled from Warforged‘s I: Voice playbook grants a palpable, terrifying presence. Beyond Obsidian Euphoria takes all of these elements, intrinsic to Tómarúm’s identity, and implements them with the same finesse and refinement of the last record, but with an altogether more hopeful tone. While still dealing with subjects of profound anguish and emotional turmoil, Beyond explores further the catharsis borne of dedicated, dogged persistence against those internal demons which would otherwise have your singular light extinguished from this mortal coil.

Nothing better exemplifies this shift in tone than the one-two punch of standout duo “Shallow Ecstasy” and “Shed This Erroneous Skin.” Epic sweeps of ominous shadow collide with shimmers of brilliance as menacing pummels advance their campaign against soaring leads and righteous solos. Those blackened rasps that voiced past work join the fray again as crooning cleans provide motivating counterpoint to fuel the flame of continuing life. A vivid chiaroscuro of composition personifies every moment across this 16-minute span, but the surrounding environs offer just as many dynamic moments of beauty and beastliness. The remarkably short and savage “Blood Mirage” deals massive damage to the cranium as it executes a brutal assault of riffs and tech-y oscillations, while “Halcyon Memory: Dreamscapes Across the Blue” evokes an Hail Spirit Noir-esque airiness that belies its double-bass propulsion and quasi-bluesy harmonized solos. The gamut of sounds, styles and textures malleate as soft putty in Tómarúm’s talented fingers, which allows their unfaltering focus on story and character to shine ever brighter on Beyond’s second immense suite of epics, “Silver, Ashen Tears” and “The Final Pursuit of Light.” Any impression of bloat falls to the wayside in the face of such nuanced and well-realized musical design, as melody, pace, substance, and technicality find a kaleidoscopic harmony striking in its multifaceted vibrancy.

At just under 70 minutes, Beyond Obsidian Euphoria daunts any audience with a monumental investment. The dividends, however, more than make up for the sacrifice. That is, if the listener is willing and ready to dig deep and find those moments most intimate and vulnerable. That delicate pluck of the string in a phrase flanked by vicious scrapes; the contrabass frequency that stimulates the spine as starry tremolos dot the sky; the desperate howl of pain and of shattered spirit that preludes an epiphany of truth and of healing; the miraculous congregation of hook and sophistication moving in tandem towards a shared apex of sound and story; all find a place in this wonderful piece, and each piece has its place. Unlike my experience with Ash in Realms, my experience with Beyond is one of complete and utter immersion. There is hardly a moment I would change, barely a segment I would cut—save for the fluffy interlude “Introspection III,” appearing too early on to leave a lasting mark by the close.

Occasionally, I find myself unable to dedicate the time necessary to engage with Tómarúm’s latest opus. I expect that others will experience the same unfortunate circumstance. While that certainly poses a question to the value statement of an album this long, specifically because its individual chapters can’t be separated without compromising the integrity of the whole, Beyond Obsidian Euphoria feels like a rare record that needs every second it consumes. The passion and personality Tómarúm exude in this work demands the price of time to bloom. If you give it the space to do so, what awaits can only be described as euphoric.

Rating: Excellent!
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Prosthetic Records
Websites: tomarum.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/TomarumBM/
Releases Worldwide: April 4th, 2025

#2025 #45 #AmericanMetal #Amiensus #AnAbstractIllusion #Apr25 #BeyondObsidianEuphoria #BlackMetal #Cormorant #DawnOfOuroboros #DeathMetal #Fallujah #HailSpiritNoir #LunarChamber #MelodicBlackMetal #MelodicDeathMetal #NeObliviscaris #ProgressiveBlackMetal #ProgressiveDeathMetal #ProgressiveMetal #ProstheticRecords #Review #Reviews #TechnicalDeathMetal #Tómarúm #Warforged

Tómarúm – Beyond Obsidian Euphoria

By Kenstrosity

Over the past three years, I’ve come to appreciate Tómarúm’s surprising, mature debut Ash in Realms of Stone Icons at a deeper level than I had hoped to reach in the mere two weeks provided at the time. While I stand by my overall score—and by my critiques—my relationship with that record grew more meaningful and rewarding with time. Tómarúm’s spiritually charged, introspective point of view speaks volumes of suffering and strife, while the complexity of their musical compositions reflects in uncompromising clarity the fluid order that governs a turbulent chaos of the soul and of the heart. With this fresh in mind, I approach follow-up Beyond Obsidian Euphoria with great curiosity and equal anticipation.

Occupying a niche of progressive metal most commonly associated with acts like Ne Obliviscaris, but also connected to newer groups such as Amiensus, An Abstract Illusion, and Dawn of Ouroboros, Atlanta quintet Tómarúm boast an especially fluid and emotive sound. Progressive structures and ever-shifting phrases abound, yet never intrude, obstruct, or interrupt. Technical prowess reminiscent of Fallujah and Lunar Chamber creates additional dynamics most noticeably felt in the bass guitar, lead guitar, and drum performances. And, to my great delight, a new twist of machine-gun burst riffing pulled from Warforged‘s I: Voice playbook grants a palpable, terrifying presence. Beyond Obsidian Euphoria takes all of these elements, intrinsic to Tómarúm’s identity, and implements them with the same finesse and refinement of the last record, but with an altogether more hopeful tone. While still dealing with subjects of profound anguish and emotional turmoil, Beyond explores further the catharsis borne of dedicated, dogged persistence against those internal demons which would otherwise have your singular light extinguished from this mortal coil.

Nothing better exemplifies this shift in tone than the one-two punch of standout duo “Shallow Ecstasy” and “Shed This Erroneous Skin.” Epic sweeps of ominous shadow collide with shimmers of brilliance as menacing pummels advance their campaign against soaring leads and righteous solos. Those blackened rasps that voiced past work join the fray again as crooning cleans provide motivating counterpoint to fuel the flame of continuing life. A vivid chiaroscuro of composition personifies every moment across this 16-minute span, but the surrounding environs offer just as many dynamic moments of beauty and beastliness. The remarkably short and savage “Blood Mirage” deals massive damage to the cranium as it executes a brutal assault of riffs and tech-y oscillations, while “Halcyon Memory: Dreamscapes Across the Blue” evokes an Hail Spirit Noir-esque airiness that belies its double-bass propulsion and quasi-bluesy harmonized solos. The gamut of sounds, styles and textures malleate as soft putty in Tómarúm’s talented fingers, which allows their unfaltering focus on story and character to shine ever brighter on Beyond’s second immense suite of epics, “Silver, Ashen Tears” and “The Final Pursuit of Light.” Any impression of bloat falls to the wayside in the face of such nuanced and well-realized musical design, as melody, pace, substance, and technicality find a kaleidoscopic harmony striking in its multifaceted vibrancy.

At just under 70 minutes, Beyond Obsidian Euphoria daunts any audience with a monumental investment. The dividends, however, more than make up for the sacrifice. That is, if the listener is willing and ready to dig deep and find those moments most intimate and vulnerable. That delicate pluck of the string in a phrase flanked by vicious scrapes; the contrabass frequency that stimulates the spine as starry tremolos dot the sky; the desperate howl of pain and of shattered spirit that preludes an epiphany of truth and of healing; the miraculous congregation of hook and sophistication moving in tandem towards a shared apex of sound and story; all find a place in this wonderful piece, and each piece has its place. Unlike my experience with Ash in Realms, my experience with Beyond is one of complete and utter immersion. There is hardly a moment I would change, barely a segment I would cut—save for the fluffy interlude “Introspection III,” appearing too early on to leave a lasting mark by the close.

Occasionally, I find myself unable to dedicate the time necessary to engage with Tómarúm’s latest opus. I expect that others will experience the same unfortunate circumstance. While that certainly poses a question to the value statement of an album this long, specifically because its individual chapters can’t be separated without compromising the integrity of the whole, Beyond Obsidian Euphoria feels like a rare record that needs every second it consumes. The passion and personality Tómarúm exude in this work demands the price of time to bloom. If you give it the space to do so, what awaits can only be described as euphoric.

Rating: Excellent!
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Prosthetic Records
Websites: tomarum.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/TomarumBM/
Releases Worldwide: April 4th, 2025

#2025 #45 #AmericanMetal #Amiensus #AnAbstractIllusion #Apr25 #BeyondObsidianEuphoria #BlackMetal #Cormorant #DawnOfOuroboros #DeathMetal #Fallujah #HailSpiritNoir #LunarChamber #MelodicBlackMetal #MelodicDeathMetal #NeObliviscaris #ProgressiveBlackMetal #ProgressiveDeathMetal #ProgressiveMetal #ProstheticRecords #Review #Reviews #TechnicalDeathMetal #Tómarúm #Warforged

Tómarúm – Beyond Obsidian Euphoria

By Kenstrosity

Over the past three years, I’ve come to appreciate Tómarúm’s surprising, mature debut Ash in Realms of Stone Icons at a deeper level than I had hoped to reach in the mere two weeks provided at the time. While I stand by my overall score—and by my critiques—my relationship with that record grew more meaningful and rewarding with time. Tómarúm’s spiritually charged, introspective point of view speaks volumes of suffering and strife, while the complexity of their musical compositions reflects in uncompromising clarity the fluid order that governs a turbulent chaos of the soul and of the heart. With this fresh in mind, I approach follow-up Beyond Obsidian Euphoria with great curiosity and equal anticipation.

Occupying a niche of progressive metal most commonly associated with acts like Ne Obliviscaris, but also connected to newer groups such as Amiensus, An Abstract Illusion, and Dawn of Ouroboros, Atlanta quintet Tómarúm boast an especially fluid and emotive sound. Progressive structures and ever-shifting phrases abound, yet never intrude, obstruct, or interrupt. Technical prowess reminiscent of Fallujah and Lunar Chamber creates additional dynamics most noticeably felt in the bass guitar, lead guitar, and drum performances. And, to my great delight, a new twist of machine-gun burst riffing pulled from Warforged‘s I: Voice playbook grants a palpable, terrifying presence. Beyond Obsidian Euphoria takes all of these elements, intrinsic to Tómarúm’s identity, and implements them with the same finesse and refinement of the last record, but with an altogether more hopeful tone. While still dealing with subjects of profound anguish and emotional turmoil, Beyond explores further the catharsis borne of dedicated, dogged persistence against those internal demons which would otherwise have your singular light extinguished from this mortal coil.

Nothing better exemplifies this shift in tone than the one-two punch of standout duo “Shallow Ecstasy” and “Shed This Erroneous Skin.” Epic sweeps of ominous shadow collide with shimmers of brilliance as menacing pummels advance their campaign against soaring leads and righteous solos. Those blackened rasps that voiced past work join the fray again as crooning cleans provide motivating counterpoint to fuel the flame of continuing life. A vivid chiaroscuro of composition personifies every moment across this 16-minute span, but the surrounding environs offer just as many dynamic moments of beauty and beastliness. The remarkably short and savage “Blood Mirage” deals massive damage to the cranium as it executes a brutal assault of riffs and tech-y oscillations, while “Halcyon Memory: Dreamscapes Across the Blue” evokes an Hail Spirit Noir-esque airiness that belies its double-bass propulsion and quasi-bluesy harmonized solos. The gamut of sounds, styles and textures malleate as soft putty in Tómarúm’s talented fingers, which allows their unfaltering focus on story and character to shine ever brighter on Beyond’s second immense suite of epics, “Silver, Ashen Tears” and “The Final Pursuit of Light.” Any impression of bloat falls to the wayside in the face of such nuanced and well-realized musical design, as melody, pace, substance, and technicality find a kaleidoscopic harmony striking in its multifaceted vibrancy.

At just under 70 minutes, Beyond Obsidian Euphoria daunts any audience with a monumental investment. The dividends, however, more than make up for the sacrifice. That is, if the listener is willing and ready to dig deep and find those moments most intimate and vulnerable. That delicate pluck of the string in a phrase flanked by vicious scrapes; the contrabass frequency that stimulates the spine as starry tremolos dot the sky; the desperate howl of pain and of shattered spirit that preludes an epiphany of truth and of healing; the miraculous congregation of hook and sophistication moving in tandem towards a shared apex of sound and story; all find a place in this wonderful piece, and each piece has its place. Unlike my experience with Ash in Realms, my experience with Beyond is one of complete and utter immersion. There is hardly a moment I would change, barely a segment I would cut—save for the fluffy interlude “Introspection III,” appearing too early on to leave a lasting mark by the close.

Occasionally, I find myself unable to dedicate the time necessary to engage with Tómarúm’s latest opus. I expect that others will experience the same unfortunate circumstance. While that certainly poses a question to the value statement of an album this long, specifically because its individual chapters can’t be separated without compromising the integrity of the whole, Beyond Obsidian Euphoria feels like a rare record that needs every second it consumes. The passion and personality Tómarúm exude in this work demands the price of time to bloom. If you give it the space to do so, what awaits can only be described as euphoric.

Rating: Excellent!
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Prosthetic Records
Websites: tomarum.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/TomarumBM/
Releases Worldwide: April 4th, 2025

#2025 #45 #AmericanMetal #Amiensus #AnAbstractIllusion #Apr25 #BeyondObsidianEuphoria #BlackMetal #Cormorant #DawnOfOuroboros #DeathMetal #Fallujah #HailSpiritNoir #LunarChamber #MelodicBlackMetal #MelodicDeathMetal #NeObliviscaris #ProgressiveBlackMetal #ProgressiveDeathMetal #ProgressiveMetal #ProstheticRecords #Review #Reviews #TechnicalDeathMetal #Tómarúm #Warforged

Dawn of Ouroboros – Bioluminescence Review

By Killjoy

Bioluminescence describes a chemical reaction occurring within living organisms to produce light. This is an apt metaphor for Oakland, California’s Dawn of Ouroboros and their iridescent combination of two disparate songwriting techniques. According to the promo material, guitarist Tony Thomas1 takes a methodical approach while vocalist Chelsea Murphy frequently lets improvisation take the reins. The results so far have elicited mixed reactions from our writers: Master of Muppets2 sagely noted great potential in their debut, whereas follow-up Velvet Incandescence was largely lost on Itchymenace,3 who found it too stylistically inconsistent. I, however, was less bothered than Itchy by the sharp twists and turns of Velvet Incandescence (it even squeaked into my 2023 top ten(ish) list), so I stood ready to rush to Dawn of Ouroboros’ aid with plenty of cortisone cream for the release of Bioluminescence.

If there’s anything we three reviewers can agree on, Dawn of Ouroboros’ sound is nigh impossible to encapsulate using other bands or even entire subgenres as easy reference points. They mix contemporary black and death metal in a similar manner as Vintersea, but instead of melodeath as a secondary influence, they favor the thoughtful post/prog of Dreadnought. As most bioluminescent life is found in the ocean, the musical tones fittingly evoke aquatic imagery. Many of the vocal and guitar melodies are lush and floaty (“Bioluminescence,” “Slipping Burgundy”). Other times, the rhythm section pulsates alongside spiky synth lines, roiled by fierce growls and screams from above. Though its form differs from album to album, this dichotomy between pacific and tempestuous should feel very familiar to fans of Dawn of Ouroboros.

Bioluminescence is more of an amplification than a reimagining of Dawn of Ouroboros’ polarity. Nowhere is this more evident than in Chelsea Murphy’s multifaceted vocals. She possesses an uncommon ability to switch on a dime between dreamy singing and raw screams–reminding me of Eva Korman (Rolo Tomassi)–and now she pours even more sugar and spice into the mix. Her singing has become quite impassioned, sounding smooth and jazzy in “Slipping Burgundy” and adopting a breathy, almost pleading tone in “Fragile Tranquility.” On the other hand, Murphy’s harsh vocals have become a real force of nature on Bioluminescence, like the upgrading of a tropical storm to a hurricane, and when she unleashes her howling screams (“Nebulae,” “Dueling Sunsets”), they resemble the blinding brightness of burning magnesium. Though her upper limits are undoubtedly awe-inspiring, they can be distracting and, perhaps, a bit too cataclysmic for what this type of music warrants.

Despite the more volatile mood swings than before, Dawn of Ouroboros has found greater overall consistency. Granted, they are still prone as ever to bounce between styles as if flipping through TV channels or radio stations, but on Bioluminescence they drift closer to the death metal side of their persona, finding a happier medium between it and the sprawling post-black of their earlier work. This more straightforward attitude works particularly well on “Static Repetition,” with relentless riffing and drumming that pummel like crashing waves. The tradeoff is that Tony Thomas’ lead guitar melodies that were so untiringly adventurous on Velvet Incandescence are diminished in length and emotional impact. They’re still present on nearly every song, but they seem to be kept on a shorter leash. This may be because the group is down to one guitarist–rhythm guitarist Ian Baker now taking over as bassist–but, whatever the reason, it feels like one of my favorite aspects of Dawn of Ouroboros has been partially eroded.

Nonetheless, I expect that Bioluminescence will be widely regarded as a step up, the greater intensity and emphasis on Murphy’s impressive vocals winning over new fans. While I miss some of the proggy, freewheeling tendencies of Velvet Incandescence, it’s easy to recognize and admire the determination of Dawn of Ouroboros to continually stretch in search of their limits as musicians. They are talented at experimenting while avoiding the “kitchen sink” phenomenon, but those who are, like Itchy, susceptible to stylistic seasickness may still wish to seek smoother sailing elsewhere. As for me, I look forward to what Dawn of Ouroboros cooks up next. They’ve proven that the only thing we can expect from them is the unexpected.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 4 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Prosthetic Records
Websites: dawnofouroboros.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/dawnofouroboros
Releases Worldwide: March 7th, 2025

#2025 #35 #AmericanMetal #Bioluminescence #BlackMetal #DawnOfOuroboros #DeathMetal #Dreadnought #Mar25 #PostMetal #ProgressiveDeathMetal #ProgressiveMetal #ProstheticRecords #Review #Reviews #RoloTomassi #Vintersea

Dawn of Ouroboros – Bioluminescence Review

By Killjoy

Bioluminescence describes a chemical reaction occurring within living organisms to produce light. This is an apt metaphor for Oakland, California’s Dawn of Ouroboros and their iridescent combination of two disparate songwriting techniques. According to the promo material, guitarist Tony Thomas1 takes a methodical approach while vocalist Chelsea Murphy frequently lets improvisation take the reins. The results so far have elicited mixed reactions from our writers: Master of Muppets2 sagely noted great potential in their debut, whereas follow-up Velvet Incandescence was largely lost on Itchymenace,3 who found it too stylistically inconsistent. I, however, was less bothered than Itchy by the sharp twists and turns of Velvet Incandescence (it even squeaked into my 2023 top ten(ish) list), so I stood ready to rush to Dawn of Ouroboros’ aid with plenty of cortisone cream for the release of Bioluminescence.

If there’s anything we three reviewers can agree on, Dawn of Ouroboros’ sound is nigh impossible to encapsulate using other bands or even entire subgenres as easy reference points. They mix contemporary black and death metal in a similar manner as Vintersea, but instead of melodeath as a secondary influence, they favor the thoughtful post/prog of Dreadnought. As most bioluminescent life is found in the ocean, the musical tones fittingly evoke aquatic imagery. Many of the vocal and guitar melodies are lush and floaty (“Bioluminescence,” “Slipping Burgundy”). Other times, the rhythm section pulsates alongside spiky synth lines, roiled by fierce growls and screams from above. Though its form differs from album to album, this dichotomy between pacific and tempestuous should feel very familiar to fans of Dawn of Ouroboros.

Bioluminescence is more of an amplification than a reimagining of Dawn of Ouroboros’ polarity. Nowhere is this more evident than in Chelsea Murphy’s multifaceted vocals. She possesses an uncommon ability to switch on a dime between dreamy singing and raw screams–reminding me of Eva Korman (Rolo Tomassi)–and now she pours even more sugar and spice into the mix. Her singing has become quite impassioned, sounding smooth and jazzy in “Slipping Burgundy” and adopting a breathy, almost pleading tone in “Fragile Tranquility.” On the other hand, Murphy’s harsh vocals have become a real force of nature on Bioluminescence, like the upgrading of a tropical storm to a hurricane, and when she unleashes her howling screams (“Nebulae,” “Dueling Sunsets”), they resemble the blinding brightness of burning magnesium. Though her upper limits are undoubtedly awe-inspiring, they can be distracting and, perhaps, a bit too cataclysmic for what this type of music warrants.

Despite the more volatile mood swings than before, Dawn of Ouroboros has found greater overall consistency. Granted, they are still prone as ever to bounce between styles as if flipping through TV channels or radio stations, but on Bioluminescence they drift closer to the death metal side of their persona, finding a happier medium between it and the sprawling post-black of their earlier work. This more straightforward attitude works particularly well on “Static Repetition,” with relentless riffing and drumming that pummel like crashing waves. The tradeoff is that Tony Thomas’ lead guitar melodies that were so untiringly adventurous on Velvet Incandescence are diminished in length and emotional impact. They’re still present on nearly every song, but they seem to be kept on a shorter leash. This may be because the group is down to one guitarist–rhythm guitarist Ian Baker now taking over as bassist–but, whatever the reason, it feels like one of my favorite aspects of Dawn of Ouroboros has been partially eroded.

Nonetheless, I expect that Bioluminescence will be widely regarded as a step up, the greater intensity and emphasis on Murphy’s impressive vocals winning over new fans. While I miss some of the proggy, freewheeling tendencies of Velvet Incandescence, it’s easy to recognize and admire the determination of Dawn of Ouroboros to continually stretch in search of their limits as musicians. They are talented at experimenting while avoiding the “kitchen sink” phenomenon, but those who are, like Itchy, susceptible to stylistic seasickness may still wish to seek smoother sailing elsewhere. As for me, I look forward to what Dawn of Ouroboros cooks up next. They’ve proven that the only thing we can expect from them is the unexpected.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 4 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Prosthetic Records
Websites: dawnofouroboros.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/dawnofouroboros
Releases Worldwide: March 7th, 2025

#2025 #35 #AmericanMetal #Bioluminescence #BlackMetal #DawnOfOuroboros #DeathMetal #Dreadnought #Mar25 #PostMetal #ProgressiveDeathMetal #ProgressiveMetal #ProstheticRecords #Review #Reviews #RoloTomassi #Vintersea

Dawn of Ouroboros – Bioluminescence Review

By Killjoy

Bioluminescence describes a chemical reaction occurring within living organisms to produce light. This is an apt metaphor for Oakland, California’s Dawn of Ouroboros and their iridescent combination of two disparate songwriting techniques. According to the promo material, guitarist Tony Thomas1 takes a methodical approach while vocalist Chelsea Murphy frequently lets improvisation take the reins. The results so far have elicited mixed reactions from our writers: Master of Muppets2 sagely noted great potential in their debut, whereas follow-up Velvet Incandescence was largely lost on Itchymenace,3 who found it too stylistically inconsistent. I, however, was less bothered than Itchy by the sharp twists and turns of Velvet Incandescence (it even squeaked into my 2023 top ten(ish) list), so I stood ready to rush to Dawn of Ouroboros’ aid with plenty of cortisone cream for the release of Bioluminescence.

If there’s anything we three reviewers can agree on, Dawn of Ouroboros’ sound is nigh impossible to encapsulate using other bands or even entire subgenres as easy reference points. They mix contemporary black and death metal in a similar manner as Vintersea, but instead of melodeath as a secondary influence, they favor the thoughtful post/prog of Dreadnought. As most bioluminescent life is found in the ocean, the musical tones fittingly evoke aquatic imagery. Many of the vocal and guitar melodies are lush and floaty (“Bioluminescence,” “Slipping Burgundy”). Other times, the rhythm section pulsates alongside spiky synth lines, roiled by fierce growls and screams from above. Though its form differs from album to album, this dichotomy between pacific and tempestuous should feel very familiar to fans of Dawn of Ouroboros.

Bioluminescence is more of an amplification than a reimagining of Dawn of Ouroboros’ polarity. Nowhere is this more evident than in Chelsea Murphy’s multifaceted vocals. She possesses an uncommon ability to switch on a dime between dreamy singing and raw screams–reminding me of Eva Korman (Rolo Tomassi)–and now she pours even more sugar and spice into the mix. Her singing has become quite impassioned, sounding smooth and jazzy in “Slipping Burgundy” and adopting a breathy, almost pleading tone in “Fragile Tranquility.” On the other hand, Murphy’s harsh vocals have become a real force of nature on Bioluminescence, like the upgrading of a tropical storm to a hurricane, and when she unleashes her howling screams (“Nebulae,” “Dueling Sunsets”), they resemble the blinding brightness of burning magnesium. Though her upper limits are undoubtedly awe-inspiring, they can be distracting and, perhaps, a bit too cataclysmic for what this type of music warrants.

Despite the more volatile mood swings than before, Dawn of Ouroboros has found greater overall consistency. Granted, they are still prone as ever to bounce between styles as if flipping through TV channels or radio stations, but on Bioluminescence they drift closer to the death metal side of their persona, finding a happier medium between it and the sprawling post-black of their earlier work. This more straightforward attitude works particularly well on “Static Repetition,” with relentless riffing and drumming that pummel like crashing waves. The tradeoff is that Tony Thomas’ lead guitar melodies that were so untiringly adventurous on Velvet Incandescence are diminished in length and emotional impact. They’re still present on nearly every song, but they seem to be kept on a shorter leash. This may be because the group is down to one guitarist–rhythm guitarist Ian Baker now taking over as bassist–but, whatever the reason, it feels like one of my favorite aspects of Dawn of Ouroboros has been partially eroded.

Nonetheless, I expect that Bioluminescence will be widely regarded as a step up, the greater intensity and emphasis on Murphy’s impressive vocals winning over new fans. While I miss some of the proggy, freewheeling tendencies of Velvet Incandescence, it’s easy to recognize and admire the determination of Dawn of Ouroboros to continually stretch in search of their limits as musicians. They are talented at experimenting while avoiding the “kitchen sink” phenomenon, but those who are, like Itchy, susceptible to stylistic seasickness may still wish to seek smoother sailing elsewhere. As for me, I look forward to what Dawn of Ouroboros cooks up next. They’ve proven that the only thing we can expect from them is the unexpected.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 4 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Prosthetic Records
Websites: dawnofouroboros.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/dawnofouroboros
Releases Worldwide: March 7th, 2025

#2025 #35 #AmericanMetal #Bioluminescence #BlackMetal #DawnOfOuroboros #DeathMetal #Dreadnought #Mar25 #PostMetal #ProgressiveDeathMetal #ProgressiveMetal #ProstheticRecords #Review #Reviews #RoloTomassi #Vintersea

Molder – Catastrophic Reconfiguration Review

By Mark Z.

Welcome to the modern age of death metal, where it seems half the newer bands people are hyping up staggered into existence via Maggot Stomp before their chuggy chuggy unga bunga riffage started eliciting enough precum from the hardcore kiddos to catch the attention of bigger labels, ultimately resulting in even more unwarranted hype and overcrowded tours with Jesus Piece and Dying Fetus. Of course, there are exceptions. Like Skeletal Remains, Molder are loyal pupils of death metal’s old school, the kind of band that’s influenced by many but isn’t copying anyone in particular. Hailing from Joliet, Illinois, the group formed in 2017 and quickly established themselves as a punky, sleazeball death metal act that reeked of Autopsy fumes. The legendary Kronos wasn’t wrong when he said the band’s second album, 2022’s Engrossed in Decay, didn’t do much to differentiate itself from its influences, but I still seemed to enjoy that record a lot more than he did. With their third album Catastrophic Reconfiguration, vocalist and guitarist Aaren Pantke has now apparently taken a more collaborative approach to the writing process, a move that’s nonetheless resulted in zero stylistic changes.

And to me, that’s not a bad thing. As before, the band’s putrid style is here in all its nasty glory, with these ten tracks essentially sounding like a modern incarnation of Autopsy blended with a few bits of Obituary. The opening title track is typical of what you can expect, with the song careening forward on punky beats, rabid riffs, and slobbering vocals that bear a strong resemblance to Obituary’s John Tardy. Furthering the comparison to those Florida legends, the guitar solos throughout the record have a soaring and melodic flair that evokes James Murphy’s performance on Cause of Death. While the riffing is often manic and unruly, songs like “Bursted Innards” and “Corpse Copulation” add some extra Autopsy juices by slowing the tempos and employing twisted, wonky riffs that wouldn’t have sounded out of place on Severed Survival or Mental Funeral.

It’s a vile, lovely mess that’s executed well. The band specifically have a knack for writing catchy material and knowing when to mix things up. “Pulped,” for example, scrambles forward on verses of staccato chords before breaking into a slow, addictive chorus that reeks of Death’s Leprosy. The closer, “Nothing Left to Ooze,” is even catchier, with a refrain of squealing tremolo riffs and wretched vocals that scream out the track title. “Overdue Burial” and “Frothing” stand out with their fast and demented tremolo riffing, while “Masked in Mold” unleashes a massive, chugging guitar riff that feels mighty enough to loosen your molars.

Moments like this are augmented by the fat-as-fuck guitar tone, which sounds like it’s spent the last six months sitting on your couch eating family-sized boxes of Chicken in a Biskit and watching bad horror movies. The production as a whole presents everything with ample clarity and force, though it is a bit louder and more polished than I’d prefer for this sort of music. Likewise, while things remain consistently enjoyable across these 34 minutes, most of my favorite moments are in the album’s first half. Too many of these tracks also have extended instrumental introductions, which dampen the record’s crazed energy and make some of the songs feel predictable. Perhaps the most damning thing one can say about Catastrophic Reconfiguration, however, is the same thing Kronos said about Engrossed in Decay two years ago. While Molder execute death metal well, they don’t really have a standout trait to distinguish them from other death metal bands you’ve heard before.

That said, not every band has to be different to be a success. To me, Molder’s “special sauce” is doing death metal well. Listening to Catastrophic Reconfiguration, it’s easy to tell that these guys are passionate death metal dudes who offer music that’s catchy, well-performed, and well-produced. The best bands of yesteryear are remembered today because they had memorable songs, and one can say the same thing about Molder. When the dust settles and we’re looking back on what early 2020s death metal was, I think Catastrophic Reconfiguration is the type of album that’s going to be looked back on the most fondly—even if it isn’t breaking the mold.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Prosthetic Records
Websites: molderil.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/molderil
Releases Worldwide: November 8th, 2024

#2024 #30 #AmericanMetal #Autopsy #CatastrophicReconfiguration #Death #DeathMetal #Molder #Nov24 #Obituary #ProstheticRecords #Review #Reviews #SkeletalRemains

Molder – Catastrophic Reconfiguration Review

By Mark Z.

Welcome to the modern age of death metal, where it seems half the newer bands people are hyping up staggered into existence via Maggot Stomp before their chuggy chuggy unga bunga riffage started eliciting enough precum from the hardcore kiddos to catch the attention of bigger labels, ultimately resulting in even more unwarranted hype and overcrowded tours with Jesus Piece and Dying Fetus. Of course, there are exceptions. Like Skeletal Remains, Molder are loyal pupils of death metal’s old school, the kind of band that’s influenced by many but isn’t copying anyone in particular. Hailing from Joliet, Illinois, the group formed in 2017 and quickly established themselves as a punky, sleazeball death metal act that reeked of Autopsy fumes. The legendary Kronos wasn’t wrong when he said the band’s second album, 2022’s Engrossed in Decay, didn’t do much to differentiate itself from its influences, but I still seemed to enjoy that record a lot more than he did. With their third album Catastrophic Reconfiguration, vocalist and guitarist Aaren Pantke has now apparently taken a more collaborative approach to the writing process, a move that’s nonetheless resulted in zero stylistic changes.

And to me, that’s not a bad thing. As before, the band’s putrid style is here in all its nasty glory, with these ten tracks essentially sounding like a modern incarnation of Autopsy blended with a few bits of Obituary. The opening title track is typical of what you can expect, with the song careening forward on punky beats, rabid riffs, and slobbering vocals that bear a strong resemblance to Obituary’s John Tardy. Furthering the comparison to those Florida legends, the guitar solos throughout the record have a soaring and melodic flair that evokes James Murphy’s performance on Cause of Death. While the riffing is often manic and unruly, songs like “Bursted Innards” and “Corpse Copulation” add some extra Autopsy juices by slowing the tempos and employing twisted, wonky riffs that wouldn’t have sounded out of place on Severed Survival or Mental Funeral.

It’s a vile, lovely mess that’s executed well. The band specifically have a knack for writing catchy material and knowing when to mix things up. “Pulped,” for example, scrambles forward on verses of staccato chords before breaking into a slow, addictive chorus that reeks of Death’s Leprosy. The closer, “Nothing Left to Ooze,” is even catchier, with a refrain of squealing tremolo riffs and wretched vocals that scream out the track title. “Overdue Burial” and “Frothing” stand out with their fast and demented tremolo riffing, while “Masked in Mold” unleashes a massive, chugging guitar riff that feels mighty enough to loosen your molars.

Moments like this are augmented by the fat-as-fuck guitar tone, which sounds like it’s spent the last six months sitting on your couch eating family-sized boxes of Chicken in a Biskit and watching bad horror movies. The production as a whole presents everything with ample clarity and force, though it is a bit louder and more polished than I’d prefer for this sort of music. Likewise, while things remain consistently enjoyable across these 34 minutes, most of my favorite moments are in the album’s first half. Too many of these tracks also have extended instrumental introductions, which dampen the record’s crazed energy and make some of the songs feel predictable. Perhaps the most damning thing one can say about Catastrophic Reconfiguration, however, is the same thing Kronos said about Engrossed in Decay two years ago. While Molder execute death metal well, they don’t really have a standout trait to distinguish them from other death metal bands you’ve heard before.

That said, not every band has to be different to be a success. To me, Molder’s “special sauce” is doing death metal well. Listening to Catastrophic Reconfiguration, it’s easy to tell that these guys are passionate death metal dudes who offer music that’s catchy, well-performed, and well-produced. The best bands of yesteryear are remembered today because they had memorable songs, and one can say the same thing about Molder. When the dust settles and we’re looking back on what early 2020s death metal was, I think Catastrophic Reconfiguration is the type of album that’s going to be looked back on the most fondly—even if it isn’t breaking the mold.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Prosthetic Records
Websites: molderil.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/molderil
Releases Worldwide: November 8th, 2024

#2024 #30 #AmericanMetal #Autopsy #CatastrophicReconfiguration #Death #DeathMetal #Molder #Nov24 #Obituary #ProstheticRecords #Review #Reviews #SkeletalRemains