#romanianmetal — Public Fediverse posts

I think most people who meet me, either online or in meatspace, would not imagine I enjoy a genre like funeral doom. Yet, it is one of my favorites. Acts like Eye of Solitude, Convocation, Slow, Un, and Ahab rank among my top choices for the space, and Romania’s In Ruins caught my ear by treading a similar path. A duo established in 2021, with mastermind Urmuz previously engaged with a spectrum of black metal, grindcore, and death/doom acts, In Ruins prepared a tight 42-minute opus as their opening salvo into fundoom territory. We Are All to Perish, but will we remember the journey that In Ruins led to that final destination?

With some funeral doom records, you get catharsis in the form of a few well-placed outbursts of violence interspersed between large swaths of misery. This is the philosophy Eye of Solitude and Convocation often adopt. Other applications of the style prioritize moods and crushing sorrow delivered at a dirge, a uniformly funereal pace that hypnotizes as much as it depresses. Enter the eulogies of Slow and Un. In Ruins embraces the latter methodology, lumbering as a husk emptied of light and of will. It is a deeply affecting emotional foundation upon which to build, and In Ruins build upon it well. Riffs crush and linger, simple and thunderous, but here they are not the hero element. Melody and atmosphere take a higher rank, though they too dilute into a more simplified, pure state that maximizes potency while stripping away musical complexity. It is entrancing as only funeral doom records can be, and its smart writing boasts all of the natural components for a successful procession.

In Ruins – We Are All to Perish | MMR069 by In Ruins

A common element that distinguishes good and great funeral doom records from inferior specimens is a showstopper track. Slow famously invites comparison here with their incredible “Incendiare,” Eye of Solitude with “Act II: Where the Descent Began,” Convocation with “Atychiphobia,” Woebegone Obscured with “Drømmefald.” In Ruins achieves it with closer “Farewell,” and does so in the most deceptively simple way. By launching the track with excellent SWANA1-inspired melisma, and reinforcing those deep vocalizations later against mournful bells, In Ruins makes an indelible mark on my fundoom rotation. It’s slow and plodding through its first act, enacting yet another favorite motif: the two-chord riff (see Slow’s “Lueur” for a stellar example of this tactic). In its second, a weeping melody, isolated against droning choral synths and Frayle-esque backing siren song until the album’s dying rattle. It is breathtaking and morose in equal measure, but more than that, it inspires repeat spins for the express purpose of experiencing the excursion that led to this climax with greater anticipation and attention.

This, in turn, invigorates and contextualizes the songwriting of the preceding three tracks. At first, they go through all the right motions of a proper funeral doom experience, but without a strong sense of memorability to leave a lasting impression. But after the first spin, I noticed the clarity of “I’m Tired of Living in My Land” offered by its candid, unpretentious lyrics. I understood the emptiness and the apathy that colors “I Do Not Regret and I Do Not Shed Tears” in a monochrome, dull gray. Compositional foreshadowing felt more meaningful when “We’ll Depart This World for Ever, Surely” sets me up for “Farewell” once more. In this way, In Ruins crafted a record that requires repeat spins to fully appreciate, forging a double edged sword. On one side, each of the first three songs on their own still lacks the same power of the closer despite gaining substance with time. On the other hand, treated as a single unit, We Are All to Perish is a wholly successful and worthy entry into the pantheon of funeral doom.

As a competitor to the standout entities of the funeral field, In Ruins stake a viable claim with We Are All to Perish. To push further into that space and stand out, they’ll need to make each and every track—especially if there are as few as four, like so here—unforgettable in some meaningful way. “Farewell” is a great song, and features elements and ideas that, if capitalized on in future records, might guarantee In Ruins a wider audience and greater acclaim. Until then, rest easy knowing that while We Are All to Perish, we can at least enjoy the path that leads to the end.

Rating: Good!
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Meuse Music Records
Websites: inruins13.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/InRuins.ro
Releases Worldwide: March 13th, 2026

Show 1 footnote

1. Southwest Asian and North African. ↩

Scythe – Boiled Alive Review

In the midst of a recent metal deep-dive, Romania’s Scythe skulked out from a Bandcamp back alley and…
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In the midst of a recent metal deep-dive, Romania’s Scythe skulked out from a Bandcamp back alley and bludgeoned me with the flat side of their blade, knocking me senseless with scuzzy shenanigans. We weren’t graced with a promo for Scythe’s self-released debut, but Boiled Alive packs in so much grimy panache that after my first listen, I had it shortlisted as someThing You Might Have Missed. Rather than wait several months before bringing attention to Boiled Alive, though, I volunteered to burn some midnight oil and write about this quartet from Constanța. Why did Boiled Alive get me so hot and bothered? Scythe’s brand of death metal grips you by the throat and never relents, evoking many influences while creating something uniquely their own. After the dry spell I’ve had with death metal lately, I finally found something I unapologetically adore. So step right up, put your head on the chopping block, and let Scythe have a whack at your earhole.

Scythe doesn’t make grand statements about existentialism or introspection, nor do they redefine a genre. First and foremost, Scythe is here to serve up sickly, sticky licks with blithe recklessness. This fearsome foursome drops track titles that ooze with enough viscera (“Liquified Entrails,” “Of Pure Goriness”) to squelch onto a Cannibal Corpse setlist while harkening to soundscapes defined by Pestilence and Autopsy. Throughout Boiled Alive, the pace oscillates between frenzied paroxysms and plodding crawls, often within the same song (“Necrophilic Corpse Orgies”). Though it would be easy for these dynamics to jostle listeners, the savvy songwriting avoids clumsy transitions and affords an entrancing experience. Ultimately, Scythe guides listeners through a curated gallery of horror that’s as thrilling as it is fulfilling.

Boiled Alive by Scythe

Interweaving Asphyxiating drudges with Mercilessly hectic eruptions, Scythe concocts a unique brew all their own. Boiled Alive simmers with ever-shifting tempos, imbuing the album with vivacity and a disarming blend of chops and accessibility.1 Where “Liquified Entrails” opens with a cannonade evoking an unholy union of Priest’s “Riding on the Wind” and Merciless’ “Souls of the Dead,” “Of Pure Goriness” flits between a mid-paced slink and rabid surges of hostility, and sounds like the crossbred bastard of Cannibal Corpse and Dismember. “Necrophilic Corpse Orgies” and “Tenebrous Decease” expose Scythe’s ability to nimbly jump between accelerated clips and more measured velocities, electrifying with their seamless agility as they navigate whipsawing tempo changes with a sophistication that is all the more impressive considering the band has no other projects or credits to their names.2

The musicianship on Boiled Alive is especially tight for a band formed just three years ago, and the mix highlights the band’s technical acumen. Rather than feature the glossy veneer popular with bigger labels, Boiled Alive sports a dry, natural texture that allows Scythe’s instrumentation to glisten. Reminiscent of the production on Invictus’s release last month, every whack on a tom and clang on the bass is afforded an organic timbre, imparting a raw aesthetic that lets Scythe sizzle. Whether rattling off meticulous snare rolls (“Necrophilic Corpse Orgies”), punky, snare-kick combos (“Plastered in Phlegm”), or playful cymbal splashes (“Of Pure Goriness”), David Rolea flays the skins on every track. Meanwhile, bassist and vocalist Andrei Constandache wields a gorgeously fat low-end tone3 as he assaults the mic with a menacing rasp. Not to be outdone, guitarists Mihai Panait and Andrei Oglan buzzsaw their way through Boiled Alive’s eight tracks, focusing on knotty riffs over wankfest solos. While the drums are the star of the show, Scythe suffers no weak links.

Part-thrashy, part-doomy, and all deathly, Scythe swings for the fences on Boiled Alive. And dammit, it’s Great. This beast writhes and squirms with purulent pizzazz, and I’m guilty many times over of restarting Boiled Alive as soon as the final track concludes. I wish solos were more prevalent across the album, and Constandache’s vocals, while effective, could use some variety, but these nitpicks should be taken as wishlist items for ol’ Grin rather than anything inherently off with Boiled Alive. Scythe discharges riffs and fun with an enviable effortlessness that should have death metal dealers and appreciators paying attention. In a genre with so much competition, Boiled Alive stands above the rabble, and I anxiously await the next time the Scythe comes down.

Rating: Great
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Self-Released
Websites: Bandcamp | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: February 1st, 2026

In the midst of a recent metal deep-dive, Romania’s Scythe skulked out from a Bandcamp back alley and bludgeoned me with the flat side of their blade, knocking me senseless with scuzzy shenanigans. We weren’t graced with a promo for Scythe’s self-released debut, but Boiled Alive packs in so much grimy panache that after my first listen, I had it shortlisted as someThing You Might Have Missed. Rather than wait several months before bringing attention to Boiled Alive, though, I volunteered to burn some midnight oil and write about this quartet from Constanța. Why did Boiled Alive get me so hot and bothered? Scythe’s brand of death metal grips you by the throat and never relents, evoking many influences while creating something uniquely their own. After the dry spell I’ve had with death metal lately, I finally found something I unapologetically adore. So step right up, put your head on the chopping block, and let Scythe have a whack at your earhole.

Scythe doesn’t make grand statements about existentialism or introspection, nor do they redefine a genre. First and foremost, Scythe is here to serve up sickly, sticky licks with blithe recklessness. This fearsome foursome drops track titles that ooze with enough viscera (“Liquified Entrails,” “Of Pure Goriness”) to squelch onto a Cannibal Corpse setlist while harkening to soundscapes defined by Pestilence and Autopsy. Throughout Boiled Alive, the pace oscillates between frenzied paroxysms and plodding crawls, often within the same song (“Necrophilic Corpse Orgies”). Though it would be easy for these dynamics to jostle listeners, the savvy songwriting avoids clumsy transitions and affords an entrancing experience. Ultimately, Scythe guides listeners through a curated gallery of horror that’s as thrilling as it is fulfilling.

Boiled Alive by Scythe

Interweaving Asphyxiating drudges with Mercilessly hectic eruptions, Scythe concocts a unique brew all their own. Boiled Alive simmers with ever-shifting tempos, imbuing the album with vivacity and a disarming blend of chops and accessibility.1 Where “Liquified Entrails” opens with a cannonade evoking an unholy union of Priest’s “Riding on the Wind” and Merciless’ “Souls of the Dead,” “Of Pure Goriness” flits between a mid-paced slink and rabid surges of hostility, and sounds like the crossbred bastard of Cannibal Corpse and Dismember. “Necrophilic Corpse Orgies” and “Tenebrous Decease” expose Scythe’s ability to nimbly jump between accelerated clips and more measured velocities, electrifying with their seamless agility as they navigate whipsawing tempo changes with a sophistication that is all the more impressive considering the band has no other projects or credits to their names.2

The musicianship on Boiled Alive is especially tight for a band formed just three years ago, and the mix highlights the band’s technical acumen. Rather than feature the glossy veneer popular with bigger labels, Boiled Alive sports a dry, natural texture that allows Scythe’s instrumentation to glisten. Reminiscent of the production on Invictus’s release last month, every whack on a tom and clang on the bass is afforded an organic timbre, imparting a raw aesthetic that lets Scythe sizzle. Whether rattling off meticulous snare rolls (“Necrophilic Corpse Orgies”), punky, snare-kick combos (“Plastered in Phlegm”), or playful cymbal splashes (“Of Pure Goriness”), David Rolea flays the skins on every track. Meanwhile, bassist and vocalist Andrei Constandache wields a gorgeously fat low-end tone3 as he assaults the mic with a menacing rasp. Not to be outdone, guitarists Mihai Panait and Andrei Oglan buzzsaw their way through Boiled Alive’s eight tracks, focusing on knotty riffs over wankfest solos. While the drums are the star of the show, Scythe suffers no weak links.

Part-thrashy, part-doomy, and all deathly, Scythe swings for the fences on Boiled Alive. And dammit, it’s Great. This beast writhes and squirms with purulent pizzazz, and I’m guilty many times over of restarting Boiled Alive as soon as the final track concludes. I wish solos were more prevalent across the album, and Constandache’s vocals, while effective, could use some variety, but these nitpicks should be taken as wishlist items for ol’ Grin rather than anything inherently off with Boiled Alive. Scythe discharges riffs and fun with an enviable effortlessness that should have death metal dealers and appreciators paying attention. In a genre with so much competition, Boiled Alive stands above the rabble, and I anxiously await the next time the Scythe comes down.

Rating: Great
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Self-Released
Websites: Bandcamp | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: February 1st, 2026

In the midst of a recent metal deep-dive, Romania’s Scythe skulked out from a Bandcamp back alley and bludgeoned me with the flat side of their blade, knocking me senseless with scuzzy shenanigans. We weren’t graced with a promo for Scythe’s self-released debut, but Boiled Alive packs in so much grimy panache that after my first listen, I had it shortlisted as someThing You Might Have Missed. Rather than wait several months before bringing attention to Boiled Alive, though, I volunteered to burn some midnight oil and write about this quartet from Constanța. Why did Boiled Alive get me so hot and bothered? Scythe’s brand of death metal grips you by the throat and never relents, evoking many influences while creating something uniquely their own. After the dry spell I’ve had with death metal lately, I finally found something I unapologetically adore. So step right up, put your head on the chopping block, and let Scythe have a whack at your earhole.

Scythe doesn’t make grand statements about existentialism or introspection, nor do they redefine a genre. First and foremost, Scythe is here to serve up sickly, sticky licks with blithe recklessness. This fearsome foursome drops track titles that ooze with enough viscera (“Liquified Entrails,” “Of Pure Goriness”) to squelch onto a Cannibal Corpse setlist while harkening to soundscapes defined by Pestilence and Autopsy. Throughout Boiled Alive, the pace oscillates between frenzied paroxysms and plodding crawls, often within the same song (“Necrophilic Corpse Orgies”). Though it would be easy for these dynamics to jostle listeners, the savvy songwriting avoids clumsy transitions and affords an entrancing experience. Ultimately, Scythe guides listeners through a curated gallery of horror that’s as thrilling as it is fulfilling.

Boiled Alive by Scythe

Interweaving Asphyxiating drudges with Mercilessly hectic eruptions, Scythe concocts a unique brew all their own. Boiled Alive simmers with ever-shifting tempos, imbuing the album with vivacity and a disarming blend of chops and accessibility.1 Where “Liquified Entrails” opens with a cannonade evoking an unholy union of Priest’s “Riding on the Wind” and Merciless’ “Souls of the Dead,” “Of Pure Goriness” flits between a mid-paced slink and rabid surges of hostility, and sounds like the crossbred bastard of Cannibal Corpse and Dismember. “Necrophilic Corpse Orgies” and “Tenebrous Decease” expose Scythe’s ability to nimbly jump between accelerated clips and more measured velocities, electrifying with their seamless agility as they navigate whipsawing tempo changes with a sophistication that is all the more impressive considering the band has no other projects or credits to their names.2

The musicianship on Boiled Alive is especially tight for a band formed just three years ago, and the mix highlights the band’s technical acumen. Rather than feature the glossy veneer popular with bigger labels, Boiled Alive sports a dry, natural texture that allows Scythe’s instrumentation to glisten. Reminiscent of the production on Invictus’s release last month, every whack on a tom and clang on the bass is afforded an organic timbre, imparting a raw aesthetic that lets Scythe sizzle. Whether rattling off meticulous snare rolls (“Necrophilic Corpse Orgies”), punky, snare-kick combos (“Plastered in Phlegm”), or playful cymbal splashes (“Of Pure Goriness”), David Rolea flays the skins on every track. Meanwhile, bassist and vocalist Andrei Constandache wields a gorgeously fat low-end tone3 as he assaults the mic with a menacing rasp. Not to be outdone, guitarists Mihai Panait and Andrei Oglan buzzsaw their way through Boiled Alive’s eight tracks, focusing on knotty riffs over wankfest solos. While the drums are the star of the show, Scythe suffers no weak links.

Part-thrashy, part-doomy, and all deathly, Scythe swings for the fences on Boiled Alive. And dammit, it’s Great. This beast writhes and squirms with purulent pizzazz, and I’m guilty many times over of restarting Boiled Alive as soon as the final track concludes. I wish solos were more prevalent across the album, and Constandache’s vocals, while effective, could use some variety, but these nitpicks should be taken as wishlist items for ol’ Grin rather than anything inherently off with Boiled Alive. Scythe discharges riffs and fun with an enviable effortlessness that should have death metal dealers and appreciators paying attention. In a genre with so much competition, Boiled Alive stands above the rabble, and I anxiously await the next time the Scythe comes down.

Rating: Great
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Self-Released
Websites: Bandcamp | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: February 1st, 2026

In the midst of a recent metal deep-dive, Romania’s Scythe skulked out from a Bandcamp back alley and bludgeoned me with the flat side of their blade, knocking me senseless with scuzzy shenanigans. We weren’t graced with a promo for Scythe’s self-released debut, but Boiled Alive packs in so much grimy panache that after my first listen, I had it shortlisted as someThing You Might Have Missed. Rather than wait several months before bringing attention to Boiled Alive, though, I volunteered to burn some midnight oil and write about this quartet from Constanța. Why did Boiled Alive get me so hot and bothered? Scythe’s brand of death metal grips you by the throat and never relents, evoking many influences while creating something uniquely their own. After the dry spell I’ve had with death metal lately, I finally found something I unapologetically adore. So step right up, put your head on the chopping block, and let Scythe have a whack at your earhole.

Scythe doesn’t make grand statements about existentialism or introspection, nor do they redefine a genre. First and foremost, Scythe is here to serve up sickly, sticky licks with blithe recklessness. This fearsome foursome drops track titles that ooze with enough viscera (“Liquified Entrails,” “Of Pure Goriness”) to squelch onto a Cannibal Corpse setlist while harkening to soundscapes defined by Pestilence and Autopsy. Throughout Boiled Alive, the pace oscillates between frenzied paroxysms and plodding crawls, often within the same song (“Necrophilic Corpse Orgies”). Though it would be easy for these dynamics to jostle listeners, the savvy songwriting avoids clumsy transitions and affords an entrancing experience. Ultimately, Scythe guides listeners through a curated gallery of horror that’s as thrilling as it is fulfilling.

Boiled Alive by Scythe

Interweaving Asphyxiating drudges with Mercilessly hectic eruptions, Scythe concocts a unique brew all their own. Boiled Alive simmers with ever-shifting tempos, imbuing the album with vivacity and a disarming blend of chops and accessibility.1 Where “Liquified Entrails” opens with a cannonade evoking an unholy union of Priest’s “Riding on the Wind” and Merciless’ “Souls of the Dead,” “Of Pure Goriness” flits between a mid-paced slink and rabid surges of hostility, and sounds like the crossbred bastard of Cannibal Corpse and Dismember. “Necrophilic Corpse Orgies” and “Tenebrous Decease” expose Scythe’s ability to nimbly jump between accelerated clips and more measured velocities, electrifying with their seamless agility as they navigate whipsawing tempo changes with a sophistication that is all the more impressive considering the band has no other projects or credits to their names.2

The musicianship on Boiled Alive is especially tight for a band formed just three years ago, and the mix highlights the band’s technical acumen. Rather than feature the glossy veneer popular with bigger labels, Boiled Alive sports a dry, natural texture that allows Scythe’s instrumentation to glisten. Reminiscent of the production on Invictus’s release last month, every whack on a tom and clang on the bass is afforded an organic timbre, imparting a raw aesthetic that lets Scythe sizzle. Whether rattling off meticulous snare rolls (“Necrophilic Corpse Orgies”), punky, snare-kick combos (“Plastered in Phlegm”), or playful cymbal splashes (“Of Pure Goriness”), David Rolea flays the skins on every track. Meanwhile, bassist and vocalist Andrei Constandache wields a gorgeously fat low-end tone3 as he assaults the mic with a menacing rasp. Not to be outdone, guitarists Mihai Panait and Andrei Oglan buzzsaw their way through Boiled Alive’s eight tracks, focusing on knotty riffs over wankfest solos. While the drums are the star of the show, Scythe suffers no weak links.

Part-thrashy, part-doomy, and all deathly, Scythe swings for the fences on Boiled Alive. And dammit, it’s Great. This beast writhes and squirms with purulent pizzazz, and I’m guilty many times over of restarting Boiled Alive as soon as the final track concludes. I wish solos were more prevalent across the album, and Constandache’s vocals, while effective, could use some variety, but these nitpicks should be taken as wishlist items for ol’ Grin rather than anything inherently off with Boiled Alive. Scythe discharges riffs and fun with an enviable effortlessness that should have death metal dealers and appreciators paying attention. In a genre with so much competition, Boiled Alive stands above the rabble, and I anxiously await the next time the Scythe comes down.

Rating: Great
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Self-Released
Websites: Bandcamp | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: February 1st, 2026

In the midst of a recent metal deep-dive, Romania’s Scythe skulked out from a Bandcamp back alley and bludgeoned me with the flat side of their blade, knocking me senseless with scuzzy shenanigans. We weren’t graced with a promo for Scythe’s self-released debut, but Boiled Alive packs in so much grimy panache that after my first listen, I had it shortlisted as someThing You Might Have Missed. Rather than wait several months before bringing attention to Boiled Alive, though, I volunteered to burn some midnight oil and write about this quartet from Constanța. Why did Boiled Alive get me so hot and bothered? Scythe’s brand of death metal grips you by the throat and never relents, evoking many influences while creating something uniquely their own. After the dry spell I’ve had with death metal lately, I finally found something I unapologetically adore. So step right up, put your head on the chopping block, and let Scythe have a whack at your earhole.

Scythe doesn’t make grand statements about existentialism or introspection, nor do they redefine a genre. First and foremost, Scythe is here to serve up sickly, sticky licks with blithe recklessness. This fearsome foursome drops track titles that ooze with enough viscera (“Liquified Entrails,” “Of Pure Goriness”) to squelch onto a Cannibal Corpse setlist while harkening to soundscapes defined by Pestilence and Autopsy. Throughout Boiled Alive, the pace oscillates between frenzied paroxysms and plodding crawls, often within the same song (“Necrophilic Corpse Orgies”). Though it would be easy for these dynamics to jostle listeners, the savvy songwriting avoids clumsy transitions and affords an entrancing experience. Ultimately, Scythe guides listeners through a curated gallery of horror that’s as thrilling as it is fulfilling.

Boiled Alive by Scythe

Interweaving Asphyxiating drudges with Mercilessly hectic eruptions, Scythe concocts a unique brew all their own. Boiled Alive simmers with ever-shifting tempos, imbuing the album with vivacity and a disarming blend of chops and accessibility.1 Where “Liquified Entrails” opens with a cannonade evoking an unholy union of Priest’s “Riding on the Wind” and Merciless’ “Souls of the Dead,” “Of Pure Goriness” flits between a mid-paced slink and rabid surges of hostility, and sounds like the crossbred bastard of Cannibal Corpse and Dismember. “Necrophilic Corpse Orgies” and “Tenebrous Decease” expose Scythe’s ability to nimbly jump between accelerated clips and more measured velocities, electrifying with their seamless agility as they navigate whipsawing tempo changes with a sophistication that is all the more impressive considering the band has no other projects or credits to their names.2

The musicianship on Boiled Alive is especially tight for a band formed just three years ago, and the mix highlights the band’s technical acumen. Rather than feature the glossy veneer popular with bigger labels, Boiled Alive sports a dry, natural texture that allows Scythe’s instrumentation to glisten. Reminiscent of the production on Invictus’s release last month, every whack on a tom and clang on the bass is afforded an organic timbre, imparting a raw aesthetic that lets Scythe sizzle. Whether rattling off meticulous snare rolls (“Necrophilic Corpse Orgies”), punky, snare-kick combos (“Plastered in Phlegm”), or playful cymbal splashes (“Of Pure Goriness”), David Rolea flays the skins on every track. Meanwhile, bassist and vocalist Andrei Constandache wields a gorgeously fat low-end tone3 as he assaults the mic with a menacing rasp. Not to be outdone, guitarists Mihai Panait and Andrei Oglan buzzsaw their way through Boiled Alive’s eight tracks, focusing on knotty riffs over wankfest solos. While the drums are the star of the show, Scythe suffers no weak links.

Part-thrashy, part-doomy, and all deathly, Scythe swings for the fences on Boiled Alive. And dammit, it’s Great. This beast writhes and squirms with purulent pizzazz, and I’m guilty many times over of restarting Boiled Alive as soon as the final track concludes. I wish solos were more prevalent across the album, and Constandache’s vocals, while effective, could use some variety, but these nitpicks should be taken as wishlist items for ol’ Grin rather than anything inherently off with Boiled Alive. Scythe discharges riffs and fun with an enviable effortlessness that should have death metal dealers and appreciators paying attention. In a genre with so much competition, Boiled Alive stands above the rabble, and I anxiously await the next time the Scythe comes down.

Rating: Great
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Self-Released
Websites: Bandcamp | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: February 1st, 2026

Clouds – Desprins [Things You Might Have Missed 2025]

By Thus Spoke

Those of you who have been paying close attention may remember that Clouds’ 2021 album Despǎrțire was the subject of my very first review here at AMG; a review that in my n00bish naïveté, I appended with a 4.5. I don’t regret it, but will admit the name Clouds had faded a little in my mind before a sudden and apparently unannounced drop of Desprins back in January caused all the sweet sadness to come flooding back. The distinctive shroud of flute-accented darkness fell instantly. At once I was transported back to that November evening I first listened to Clouds, gazing out of the train window at the blackness beyond.

Desprins is transportive not simply as a continuation of Clouds’ endless journey of despair, but as an extension of it. Heavier and simultaneously more reflective than Despǎrțire, it channels the group’s black, choked funeral doom through a spacious synth veil recalling their earliest material, but now more confidently and atmospherically woven. The duality between the heaviest and gentlest aspects—a tension Clouds have always experimented with—is sharpened. The grittiness of the metal, the plaintiveness of the singing, and airiness of the acoustic instruments are more stark, but in a way that balances the musical and emotional waves of tension and release. In a limbo of atmosphere, Daniel Neagoe tells us in solemn whispers what he elsewhere expresses with pained cries and guttural roars; heavy riffs lift and drums slip away at bar’s end for a piano to take the lead; quiet softly crescendoes back on the ascent of a flute: all flow and fade inevitably out of each other.

One could argue that the congruence of Desprins’ apparently disparate musical elements owes its existence to how straightforwardly, heartbreakingly beautiful the melodies thus forged are. Whether first announced by a flute (“Disguise”), a piano (“Unanswered”), synth (“Life Becomes Lifeless”) or a guitar (“Chain Me,” “Chasing Ghosts”), all players pull on the thread of the theme before long. The chasms that come from marrying guitar chords with flute (“Life Becomes Lifeless,” “Forge Another Nightmare”), and opening out to stripped-back synth and apathetic cleans, when you can hear every touch on the keys and feel the impact of every drumbeat, are profound musically and emotionally. These are the kinds of passages designed for wistful staring into the middle distance, whose pathos is so acute, it’s almost unfair. “Life Becomes Lifeless,” “Chain Me,” and the finale of “Chasing Ghosts” are especially potent. With a seemingly more sparse soundscape, they achieve what Shape of Despair do with a more grandiose one. I am, admittedly, a crybaby, but Clouds’ ability to bring me to tears in a more melancholic frame of mind is something I hold in high esteem.

Perhaps more so than before, Clouds’ latest incarnation is something that either really works for you or really doesn’t. I’m obviously in the former camp. Like other funeral doom acts, and analogously dolorous music, the portal of sadness they create is effective only insofar as it can pull its listener in. Desprins sees a doubling-down on everything that might make Clouds hard to listen to—the misery, the polarity between the crushing and uplifting—but its execution only makes this project more unique and more uniquely captivating.

Tracks to Check Out: ”Disguise,” “Life Becomes Lifeless,” “Forge Another Nightmare,” “Chasing Ghosts.”

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