#saturnus — Public Fediverse posts

Webb Space Telescope ziet de ringen van Chariklo veranderen
Het vermogen om deze veranderingen waar te nemen, opent nieuwe perspectieven voor het begrijpen van de evolutie van deze systemen
#asteroïde #centaur #chariklo #planetoïde #ringen #saturnus #uranus #WebbSpaceTelescoop #zonnestelsel
https://www.kuuke.nl/webb-space-telescope-ziet-de-ringen-van-chariklo-veranderen/

Webb Space Telescope ziet de ringen van Chariklo veranderen
Het vermogen om deze veranderingen waar te nemen, opent nieuwe perspectieven voor het begrijpen van de evolutie van deze systemen
#asteroïde #centaur #chariklo #planetoïde #ringen #saturnus #uranus #WebbSpaceTelescoop #zonnestelsel
https://www.kuuke.nl/webb-space-telescope-ziet-de-ringen-van-chariklo-veranderen/

Way back in 2014, when Madam X and I were still just mutual admirers online, she decided to travel from her home country of South Africa to the US to catch the world-famous 70000 Tons of Metal cruise. This had the added benefit of allowing us to finally meet in person since she was flying into New York, where I worked as a regional warlord at the time. We ended up meeting, totally hitting it off, and yada-yada-yada, we got married and lived happily ever after. It took us way too long to catch a 70000 Tons voyage as a couple, but this year we finally did it! After hearing so much about the 70000 Tons experience from Madam X, other AMG staffers, and various random miscreants, I thought I had a pretty good handle on what to expect. I didn’t. This event is one seriously wild ride, unlike anything else I’ve ever encountered. It’s a strange alternate universe where time is the enemy, yet also seems to lose all meaning. You spend every waking moment running from set to set to catch acts you want to see, and in the little spaces in between, you eat, chug brewskis, and study the scheduling app to plot and plan where to run next. You quickly lose track of the days as you adapt to this new lifestyle, and before long, you start to prefer this kind of existence. It’s a 4-day musical treasure hunt with adventure (and alcohol) available around every corner, and you share all the madcap escapades with thousands of like-minded metal maniacs who all seem equally thrilled to be questing. What could be cooler than that? So what was it like to step aboard as representatives for Angry Metal Guy Industries? This is our story.1

Disembarkment: From Snowbound to Southbound

Mere days before we were scheduled to fly down to Florida, the massive bomb cyclone winter storm dubbed “Fern” clobbered most of the eastern seaboard and dropped 15 inches of snow on our Long Island hometown. This scrambled all the central, southern, and eastern US airports something fierce, and with news of thousands of canceled flights in the days leading up to the cruise, we stressed mightily that we might not make it to Miami to catch the ship. The 70000 Tons group on Facebook was littered with tragic tales of folks getting their flights cancelled multiple times, with some opting to skip the airports entirely and try to make it by car from faraway locales.2 As the Metal Gods willed it, we got to the airport, made it to a not-very-sunny Florida on time without any hassles. We reported to the Port of Miami the next day, and the adventure began!

Day One: The Aclimationing

After going through the boarding process and nominally attending our safety briefing, beers were enjoyed as Madam X and I toured our new home. Freedom of the Seas is a typical cruise ship, but it was immediately apparent that this would not be a typical cruise. Aside from the ocean of black shirts and battle vests, all the music played over the ship’s sound systems was metal. This was a surprisingly satisfying touch, as I always wondered what it would be like to have my preferred genre played in places like supermarkets, dentist offices, and malls. This shit should be normalized outside of a niche metal cruise event. Hell, even when you turned on your cabin’s TV, there was a channel playing videos of the bands on board 24/7, and when you went to the shopping or cruise map channels, the background music was 120% pure metal. Nir-fucking-vana, folks!

As everyone boarded, got settled in, and the initial drinks were drunk, the first bands went off at 5:30. As any good primate would do in such circumstances, I chose Vio-Lence since they’re a beloved band from my youth that I never got to see live during their heyday. Prior to the band taking the stage, a stocky, bald gentleman berated a group of people (myself included) for not wearing ear protection. This was laughed off with good nature, and then I realized the man looking out for our aural health was none other than David White, the vocalist of Heathen. It was cool to see the Heathen dudes there showing support for their fellow San Francisco thrashers, and it was a nice way to kick off the festivities. Vio-Lence came out shortly thereafter and proceeded to destroy everyone with loud, vicious renditions of the material off their timeless debut, Eternal Nightmare. They sounded much heavier than expected, and Sean Killian was a man possessed on stage as he delivered the hyperactive and voluminous vocal lines like it was still 1990. They covered almost all of their debut and tossed in “World in a World” and the Dead Kennedys’ classic “California Über Alles” for extra spice, and I left well impressed by how youthful and powerful they sounded.

From there we ducked in to catch Harakiri for the Sky, and though neither Madam X nor I were very familiar with them, they impressed with their atmospheric post-black sound. They reminded me of Agalloch enough to want to visit their catalog, and Madam X was very much enthralled. From there, it was straight to the big theater to see Soen, and I admit to never being much of a fan. They were polished and professional, but their style of radio-friendly hard rock didn’t really fit with the 70000 Tons vibe, and I was bored pretty quickly, though watching Martin Lopez (ex-Opeth) pound away on his kit was entertaining. Things improved greatly when we went on to catch Cemetery Skyline, the Scandinavian Goth rock supergroup. Though the material on their Nordic Gothic debut isn’t all that much harder than what Soen do, the energy generated by Mikael Stanne and Markus Vanhala (Insomnium, Omnium Gatherum) was off the charts. The band seemed to be having as much or more fun than the very receptive crowd, and Stanne in particular seemed to be thrilled to be there. The set was electric, and the energy from the crowd was palpable.

Next up was Kamelot, and though I’m a huge fan of their early albums, I haven’t loved the post-Silverthrone output much. The band did their best to put on a lively performance, and Tommy Karevik sounded fine, but the setlist, taken mostly from the last 3 albums, was somewhat uninspiring, and we left after 5-6 songs. After taking time to get food and brewskis, we headed back to the theater to see Anthrax. A beloved band from my youth, it had been a long time since I last saw them live, but they acted and sounded much the same, opening with the timeless “A.I.R.” and leaning heavily on their Spreading the Disease and Among the Living classics. At one point, Joey started singing Judas Priest’s “The Ripper” before launching into “Caught in a Mosh,” and Scott Ian dubbed the 70000 Cruise as “the world’s coolest prison.” These olde thrash dawgs can still bring it, and the packed crowd ate it up (I especially loved them busting out “Be all. End All” from their State of Euphoria platter).

Last up for our first night was a 12:30 am set by the weird and mysterious Kanonenfieber. Support for the band was apparent, with numerous folks onboard rocking plastic versions of the Pickelhaube (the WWI era pointy helmet worn by Prussian and German soldiers), and they’ve received a ton of love and overratings from the AMG staff these past few years. Somehow, though, I never completely bought into what band creator Noise was doing. Until I saw it all done live, that is. With a stage covered in sandbags and barbed wire, the masked trench warriors supporting Noise came out in matching WWI period soldiers’ clothing to play a somber, ominous intro before Noise himself burst out dressed in full Kaiser gear as things erupted into full boar black death insanity. While their style can at times come across as heavier, faster Rammstein, there was no denying how much punch they packed live, and Noise is a very animated, maniacal frontman. He had the crowd eating from his hand despite an entire set in German. Sure, the multiple costume changes were a bit over-the-top, but they fit the narrative of the horrors of war. Thus pummeled and pulverized, it was time to call it a day.

Day Two: Any Port in the Storm

Due to the huge storm that was sweeping up the east coast, the Captain decided that the ship would head straight to Nassau on Friday rather than Saturday, so rather than bands taking the stage by 10 am, they would hold off til 5:30, and we would be free to leave the ship in the morning and wander around the island. After a few hours sightseeing, we were ready for more molten metal and eager to see Orden Organ kick things off on the newly constructed pool deck stage. Frontman Seeb was injured before the cruise and unable to make the trip, so the band recruited Marc Lopes (Ross the Boss, ex-Metal Church) to fill in. As the ship headed back out ot sea, the band ripped through the big hits of Ogan’s catalog, opening with the massive “F.E.V.E.R.” Dan sounded powerful and convincing, though between songs, he made it clear he was still learning the songs, so not to judge him too harshly. Minus a few missed vocal lines here and there, he did a fine job, got the crowd involved, and seemed really thrilled to be there. As they tore through hits like “The Things We Believe in,” “The Order of Fear,” and “Heart of the Android,” a cold rain began to fall, and by the end of their set, it was getting pretty heavy on the deck.

We retreated to the safety of the sports bar for liquid courage before having to go back out in the rain 45 minutes later to see the mighty Amorphis. The pool deck stage was an open-air rain debacle as they came out, and even before Tomi could start roaring, he was drenched and waterlogged. Tomi always looks like a pirate, so it worked for him, and the band sounded as great as ever live, though I felt bad for Santeri Kallio having to constantly wipe off his keyboards as the rain crashed down. The set was tight despite the weather, and they hit all the high points, from gems like “Death of a King” and “The Smoke” to going way back to Tales from the Thousand Lakes to uncork “Black Winter Day.” Nothing can stop these all-weather Finns!

From the deluge, we retreated to see Wolf in the Deck 5 lounge, which is essentially a smallish room without any kind of raised stage. Wolf were game about it and delivered a rowdy set of their NWoBHM-meets power metal, but unless you stood directly in front of them, you couldn’t see jack shit. It was still a good show, aurally at least. We left a bit early to get back to the monsoon deck to see Beast in Black, but their set was moved to 4:15 am due to how awful the weather had become outside. This allowed for a quick detour to catch Ereb Altor at the rink stage, and they were exactly how I imagined they would be: brooding, heavy, and not fucking around at all as they clobbered the crowd with their Viking black metal. As I was swept away to the good olde days of blood eagles and rule by sword, I found myself wondering why the band didn’t also schedule a few sets for Isole, as the same guys are in both bands. Great show, lost opportunity.

From there we beered up and then caught death metallers Skeletal Remains back in the lounge, and they were appropriately heavy and caveman as fook. Perhaps the caveman shit went too far as they blasted way past their allotted time, and soon thereafter, rumors started spreading that a certain band member was getting hammered and way too touchy-feely with the female cruisers. This ultimately led to him being confined to his cabin and the band getting banned from future 70000 Tons events. After Skeltal Remains decamped, we stayed put in the lounge as up next was none other than the one, the only…Jag Fucking Panzer!! A huge staple of my teen years, these Colorado classic US power metal masters dropped the iconic Ample Destruction back in 1985, and I’ve loved them ever since, but never got to see them live. Because we were hanging around as the band set up, legendary vocalist Harry “the Tyrant” Conklin came over to chat and offered us “Tyrant coins,” which are basically a commemorative Jag Panzer challenge coin. We took them happily, and I tried not to be too fanboyish. I also got to speak with founding guitarist Mark Briody, and he was as nice a guy as there is. When Panzer took the stage, they proceeded to rip the crowd a new one with a string of timeless cuts from Ample Destruction and select gems from their later releases. I was floored by how powerful Tyrant’s voice was live, and this was my highlight of the trip thus far. I was very glad we were dead center front row for this one!

After that unbeatable show, we went back up to the pool deck for Kanonenfieber’s second set at 12;30 am, hoping the rain had finally died down. The fates smiled upon Noise, and the skies held off, allowing them to tear through another set of war-horror-themed Germanic madness with Noise commanding the crowd like a battle-hardened general. Though some of the same songs from the first set were done again, it still seemed like a different event entirely, and aside from the odd clash of the masked, uniformed mauraders and the happy, colorful pool deck decorations, it was an immersive open sea air experience.

Day Three: Arctic Winds

Day three was the first where the bands hit the stages early, with some starting at 10:00 am. We dragged ourselves out of bed, got caffenated and made it to the pool deck to see Hiraes take the stage. I hadn’t hear of this Germanic melodeath act until their frontwoman Britta Görtz appeared in the recent Kreator video for “Tränenpalast.” They had an energetic set, and Britta has a shockingly demonic voice for such a charmingly upbeat, tiny woman. Then it was off to catch Wolf in the vastly superior rink stage, and they once again brought the old school metal thunder and showed the crowd how to pull off guitar-driven 80s metal with a touch of Euro-power.

80s Bay Area techno-thrashers Heathen were up next, and they delivered their typically solid, burly set, with frontman David White doing his hyperactive best to stir the theater crowd to violence. Speaking of Vio-Lence, I spotted a few of them in the crowd returning the favor of support. I especially loved when Heathen busted out “Goblin’s Blade” from their 1987 debut, and that song has aged like fine wine. “Hypnotized” was also as great live as ever, and that song should be considered one of the great thrash epics of all time. As we left the theater, Madam X informed me that the vocalist for Heathen was built much like Noise from Kanonenfieber and might be him. And so began several days of speculation as to who the Kanonenfieber guys were and where they might be on the ship.

After food and a merch shopping break, we caught the immortal NWoBHM legends Satan at the rink deck. Long have I wanted to witness them live, and when I finally got my wish, they were even better than I hoped. The ageless Brian Ross sounded like a 25-year-old, hitting all manner of high register wails and screams, often going beyond what was required by the songs. The band was insanely frenetic in a live setting, with guitarists Russ Tippins and Steve Ramsey putting on a shred clinic, sounding like classic Iron Maiden at double speed. They put on a helluva powerful, no-BS metal show, and Ross is a character as a frontman.3

Off to the pool deck we went, thereafter to catch some of Firewind’s set. I wanted to see Gus G wank his way to the moon in person, and I was not disappointed. I was surprised to see Herbie Langhams wasn’t performing vocals, and instead, former frontman Henning Basse (ex-Brainstorm, ex-Metallium) was there on stage. Together they plowed through mighty tunes like “Ode to Leonidas” and “I Am the Anger,” with Gus showing why he’s considered one of metal’s top axe masters. The weirdo semi-death, kinda-Goth Tribulation were next. Unfortunately, they were derailed by technical issues and lost some equipment in transit, and opened their set 20 minutes late. Even when they finally got going, they were still plagued by sound issues. They did their best, but they didn’t get to present themselves properly, and things were a bit lackluster overall.

Next was the one and only time Madam X and I had to part company, as she was dying to see Beast in Black and I needed to see Jag Panzer’s second set and both went off at the same time. This Panzer set was a “drop the needle” on their classic album Ample Destruction, and I couldn’t miss seeing them run through it from start to finish. This time Jag Panzer got the rink stage, which is far better than the lounge, and once again they brought the crowd to their knees with masterful renditions of cuts like “Licensed to Kill,” “Warfare,” and “Harder Than Steel.” Tyrant again demonstrated the sheer power and force of his ageless pipes, and the band made sure to leave everything on the stage. I even ended up with an official Jag Panzer wristband in the process. Sometimes it’s good to meet your heroes. Madam X was equally blown away by the Beast in Black set, making me wish I had caught that show, too.

From there, I raced to the pool deck to catch Paradise Lost. The long-running lords of Peaceville doom put on a solid if somewhat low-key set, drawing from their vast catalog and collection of styles. It wasn’t the most animated set of the cruise, but the songs sounded great, and Nick Holmes was in good form. I appreciated that they didn’t shy away from their Depeche Lost era either.

After that, Anthrax took the pool deck stage, and lo and behold, bassist Frank Bello was missing in action. In his place was a guy who looked a whole lot like Joey Vera of Armored Saint, Fates Warning, etc. Turns out it was Joey filling in, as Frank had to leave the ship to get to LA to accept his Grammy for best Live Rock performance for Yungblud’s rendition of Black Sabbath’s “Changes” at the Back to the Beginning concert. I have no idea how Frank got off the ship or how they mailed Joey in, but he fit right in, and Anthrax did another classic set, even hitting “Deathrider” from the debut and “In the End” from Worship Music. Queens, NY, represent!

Day Four: Survive and Endure

As the rigors of nonstop metalling slowly began to set in, we arose on day four, opted to eat a quick breakfast, then jumped in a hot tub on the pool deck while they were fresh, clean, and not full of plus-sized, mega-hairy metalheads. Because of our early arrival, we only shared a tub with a very nice Dutch couple, and as we listened to Xandria playing their morning set about 100 feet away, we discussed the Dutch metal scene, the Roadburn festival, and how The Gathering is superior to most other similar acts. Xandria aren’t my cup of tea, and I couldn’t see them from my tub, but they sounded decent enough for a symphonic power metal band.

After tub time, we caught Tyr on the pool deck as they brought Faroian thunder to the high seas. Their burly sound translated well to the setting, and it was all beefy tales of heroism and swordplay, with “By the Sword in My Hand” and “Blood of Heroes” hitting extra hard. It was extra cool to see Jag Panzer’s Mark Briody right up front in the crowd, throwing horns and celebrating the next generation of metal.

Later on, we caught the second set of Satan, and again they burned the stage down around them, then we wandered into the last 15 minutes of Darkane’s set on the pool deck. After that, Madam X convinced me to try Groza’s set, which was a shockingly harrowing blast of misanthropic black metal performed by dudes in hoods who were from Germany. They impressed and furthered the ongoing Kanonenfieber conspiracy mill considerably.

One of the highlights of the event for me was seeing ultimate underdog 80s thrash act Hirax take the stage on the pool deck as the weather turned windy and cold again. Hirax released 2 obscure albums in the mid 80s that I dearly loved because they were so different from everything else out there. Katon Depena was a truly unique vocalist, singing in a strange up and down pattern over short thrashy songs that verged on grindcore. It was both odd and endearing, and my high school friends and I constantly imitated his wonky singing. They were too cult to ever tour near us, so I always wondered what they would be like live. When Hirax stormed the stage, they were everything I expected and then some. Katon was a complete maniac, running all over, climbing the amps, jumping into the crowd, taking a big fur coat from a fan, and rocking it on stage, all as he ripped through a succession of lightning-fast classics. It was one of the craziest sets of the cruise, and the crowd was eating it up. Hail Hirax.

As the ship steered toward the setting sun, Finnish melodoom gods Insomnium took the pool deck stage to deliver a classically melancholic but heavy set as the weather got colder and colder. They were tight, polished, and amusingly enough, complained about how cold it was on the deck. As they started to play “Down With the Sun,” the sun was slowly disappearing below the watery horizon, and with the cold air blowing, it felt like a weirdly Finnish moment on what was billed as a Caribbean cruise.

In the ultimate whiplash kind of switch up, we raced from the Insomnium set to witness Rhapody of Fire launch their nerd-raging dragon power all over the theater stage. As they catapulted into cheddar manufacturing mode, the crowd brandished waves of inflatable swords and hammers like a full-fledged LARP was about to break out. In the middle of the raging orcstorm, vocalist Giacomo Voli went completely bonkers, wailing, screaming, stirring the crowd up, and even stage diving and crowdriding. Somehow, he kept singing as he was held aloft by the rowdy crowd and pummeled with inflatable melee weapons.4 Though I’m not a fan of the band, I couldn’t deny the entertainment factor and the insane charisma of Voli.

The festivities wound down with a 12:30 am Dark Tranquillity set on the pool deck, and as always, Stanne and company were the consummate professionals, doling out the classic melodeath goods as only they can. Stanne sounded superb and in his glory, and the band put on an appropriately massive cap to a great cruise. After their set, Andy, the man behind the whole event, took the stage to thank all who attended and braved the often-bad weather to enjoy the massive metal spectacle. It was a bittersweet moment, as the 4 days flew by in a crazy blur and now were coming to an end.

Final Thoughts:

70000 Tons of Metal is an extremely well-organized and run event, and it was attended by a large assortment of metal fans who came to have a good time and make memories. I saw no fights, no really bad behavior (aside from certain band-related allegations), and was shocked that I saw so few people hammered into an alcoholic stupor. If you haven’t considered making the trip, you should. It can be pricey, but it’s an amazing time and unlike anything else you’ll ever experience. I went expecting it to be something you do once, but now I want to make it a yearly tradition. I highly recommend it, even if you only like half of the scheduled line-up. Thank you to the ever-amazing Madam X for organizing the trip for us and for being the best possible partner to share the insanity with. You complete me.

Funniest Moment:

-When Madam X and I were waiting for an elevator, one opened up, and standing right in front was Brian Ross of Satan. Madam X was star-struck and loudly exclaimed, “SATAN!” Mr. Ross smiled and waved.

-Everyone complaining there was no Kanonenfieber meet and greet.

Bands We Missed:

Vader and Saturnus were cursed with late-night slots we just couldn’t get to. We feel great shame.

Biggest Gripe:

The weird and draconian merch rules made even a simple viewing of the band’s wares a huge hassle.

Biggest Surprise:

I wasn’t even close to being the oldest person there!

Things I’ll Miss the Most: Those stupid little pizzas served at Sorrento’s. They aren’t much different from store-bought frozen pizza, but the stuff becomes addictive after eating it for a few days, like those dumplings in Old Boy.

Post Ship Depression Syndrome:

It’s a real thing. You feel out of sorts and miss the weird pacing and running between sets all day and night.

Grymm’s Top Ten(ish) of 2023

By Grymm

2013: A wild Abbathian kitty appears, hellbent and determined to expose the world to bad jokes, hilarious perspectives, and most importantly, absolutely astonishingly great metal and metal-adjacent bands and performing artists. With his trusty minions by his side, this Blashyrkh-born-and-raised feline sets off into the realms of Angry Metal Guy with only one goal in mind: to spread the gospel of incredible music to the ears of those willing to listen. Hungry and passionate, and inspired by the likes of influential writers from the olden days of Metal Maniacs Magazine and Terrorizer, as well as trailblazers in the online world such as Metal Review/Last Rites, this cat marches forth, prepared for battle and the spoils of war to last for generations to come.

2023: A warehouse supervisor from Northeastern Florida, who’s squeezing what little free time he has in-between long work weeks with even longer hours, stares wearily and angrily at a blank WordPress screen. His eyes glaze over, knowing what he has to say but not how to go about it without constantly hitting that backspace key in a combined fit of worry and hesitation. Exhausted from work, and beaten down and heartbroken by what life has thrown his way over the last five years, this gentleman sits at his keyboard, glowing a soft blue like his favorite protagonist from his all-time favorite RPG,1 and prepares to type up a list of this year’s music that barely got him by, while also trying to come up with words to say about how he got here, how he’s really feeling, and everything surrounding those things without angering or disappointing others, knowing full well that it will be a fruitless endeavor because, as we all know, someone will pitch a bitchfit in the comments section. And with that, he sets forth on what is most likely the final thing he’ll write, at least for a good, long while.

These two wildly different characters are, as you can probably guess, the very same person. When I came onboard with Angry Metal Guy over a decade ago, the very idea of reviewing classic and new bands in my absolute favorite genre in the world, a genre that saved my pimply, awkward, teenage ass on many occasions, I jumped at the opportunity without hesitation. I wanted to inspire other metalheads like Alicia Morgan, Ula Gehret, Jeff Wagner, Mike Greenblatt, Greg Moffitt, S. Craig Zahler, Jordan Campbell, Dan Obstkrieg, and the late Katherine Ludwig did for me to hunt for, and write about, great metal music. In my eyes, Angry Metal Guy, not Decibel, was the closest in spirit to the late, great Metal Maniacs, and I wanted in on that. Throughout the last decade, not only did Angry Metal Guy the man take me under his wing, but so did Steel Druhm and Madam X, giving me insight and valuable tips on how to improve and leave my own mark without ever compromising my voice or my views. Also, I met some amazing people here, both readers and writers, that I wouldn’t have otherwise had I not written that review for Vattnet Viskar’s Sky Swallower. Seriously, the writers that are here now are some of the best people I have ever had the pleasure of working with, and they’re all amazing people with good hearts. I will not take their (or your) friendships and teamwork lightly. You’re all a second family to me, one I will cherish always, and I love you all. This is, more often than not, a thankless endeavor where you’re oftentimes been put through the wringer unjustly, so dealing with it at all to continue promoting bands should be commended.

So… what happened? To try to keep it brief as humanly possible, life happened. In 2018, I lost my older brother to a combination of personal neglect caused by depression, combined with a bacterial infection that lead to sepsis and a fatal heart attack. 2019, instead of taking time to grieve, I dove into work and writing. Quickly realizing that it was a mistake in doing so, I promised myself to not do that going forward. From 2020 through 2022, I would not be able to fulfill that promise, as my work exploded due to the pandemic, working myself past exhaustion to the point where I almost died from bacterial pneumonia in the tail end of 2021. This year alone, between losing one of my all-time favorite cats ever to cancer at an alarmingly young age, and having my partner lose his mom not even a full week later, and dealing with an estate that could have very well left us homeless, all combined to do a number on my physical and mental well-being to the point where my (now former) doctor was concerned due to the fact many of my newly-acquired symptoms I was experiencing this year mirrored those of colorectal cancer. Thankfully, it was all “just” the wonderful side effects of extreme burnout and being stressed the fuck out, but it made me realize that writing, and responding to people who are mad that I (checks notes) enjoyed things, needed to take a back seat in a big way.

But two other things set the decision in motion. One is the sorry state of metal sites and magazines, and how they go about covering things. I don’t believe in non-stop hype of mid-to-terrible bands,2 nor do I believe extraneously overwrought word salad to the point of sheer nonsense is the way to go,3 but at least they cover new bands that most would probably never have heard of otherwise. Your Shores of Nulls, your Darkhers, your Vainajas and the like. Sites like Metal Injection, on the other hand, can’t be fucked to do that, since it’s obviously more important to cover everyone’s favorite born-again chucklefuck and how he felt about trying to unalive his ex-wife via hitman/undercover cop, or Greg Kennelty shaming others because his favorite cilantro of the month is now popular. Ever since Albert Mudrian and Decibel decided it would be a splendid idea to not only give Burzum a fucking cover, but also a goddamn Decibel Hall of Fame induction in 2011, giving absolute pieces of shit a voice, or bands who already have a gross overabundance of coverage, is not only welcome, but seemingly encouraged at the expense of those who are battling to just be seen and heard. I don’t care about Sleep Token. I sure as shit don’t give an eighth of a fuck what Tim Lambesis’ shoulder routine is. That said, these days I’m just tickled pink that Kennelty has stopped rewriting negative reviews into way more positive ones, at least for the time being.

But most egregiously, there was something else that happened in the tail end of 2021 that ultimately sealed the deal, and it involved my second coming-out piece, and a certain Top Ten(ish) entry made in response to that (which got its own response). I’m not going into more detail about it out of respect to my fellow writers who also put in the hard work to move on from it, as everyone who’s been reading the site for a long time knows. All I can say is that, even with my best efforts to move on, it did a number on my creativity, humor, and most painfully my desire to write to the point where I feel like I’m merely going through the motions since it happened.

Which, to be frank, isn’t fair to me, it isn’t fair to anyone here writing for this great site, and it sure as shit isn’t fair to you. This year’s top ten is going to be the last thing I write here, at least for a long time, until I can find the passion, the hunger, and the drive to write again about the music I still love, even if portions of it want me gone, peacefully or not. I will continue to support my favorite bands. I will continue reading and chiming in to Angry Metal Guy. I will continue to quietly fight for those whose voices need to be heard. I’ll just be supporting from the sidelines from this point forward. If I find that passion again, things could be different. For now, though, the site needs people who are far hungrier than I am, and I need time to break away and rediscover my smile again.

I guess what I want to say is… thank you all, writers and readers, for the memories, the friendships, the great music, and the ability to give a worn-out warehouse supervisor a voice and an attempt at a teenage dream. Ten years is a long, long time, and I love you all for putting up with me for that long. In departing, I’ll quote Anaal Nathrakh’s anthem, “Endarkenment”:

“Take what small comfort there may be left;
seize what you love, and damn all the rest.”

Onward, now and forever…

#ish. Wormhole // Almost Human – Anything even remotely coming close to the wheelhouse of Voivod will get a near-Pavlovian response from me, and Wormhole’s skronky, atonal, and relentlessly heavy take on our favorite Québécois is undeniable. To quote our favorite resident sponge, “WOOOOOOOOORMHOOOOOOOOOLE!!!”

#10. Saturnus // The Storm Within – Denmark’s Saturnus is quickly joining up with the Peaceville Three in terms of being a doom/death institution, and their fifth album showcases just why that is. With crushing riffs, soaring leads by Indee Rehal-Sagoo (ex-Eye of Solitude), The Storm Within is a deadly catch, indeed.

#9. Sulphur Aeon // Seven Crowns and Seven Seals – Germanic blackened death metal prodigies Sulphur Aeon finally returned after a five-year absence with the remarkable Seven Crowns and Seven Seals, an album that many claim to be not as strong as their three prior releases… which is an awful lot like saying comparing a championship win against another from the same sports team in subsequent seasons. It’s still a winner, and head and shoulders above their contemporaries.

#8. Thantifaxath // Hive Mind Narcosis – This anonymous Canadian trio continues to impress and terrify, with atonal riffs, barely-together rhythms, and the foreboding sense of everything feeling like it’s caving in and collapsing all at once add up to one of 2023’s most chaotic and frightening albums. If you enjoy excessive headfuckery, this is your ticket.

#7. Karras // We Poison Their Young – There needs to be more albums that just get to the point without any fat or bullshit getting in the way, and France’s Karras say more in 21 minutes than most band with three, even four, times as much length. Get in, fuck shit up, move the fuck on. More, please.

#6. Wreathe // The Land Is Not An Idle God – I miss Fall of Efrafa. I also love Morrow. Chances are, you do, too. Wreathe features key members of both bands, as well as Arboricidio, and it throws down just as hard and passionately as all three aforementioned bands. If you love emokrust, you are either onto this, or discovering it right the fuck now. You’re welcome!

#5. Fires in the Distance // Air Not Meant For Us – If you told me years ago that some of the best melodic doom/death would be from Connecticut, I would have laughed in your face to the point of an asthma attack. Yet, Fires in the Distance took what makes Insomnium and Omnium Gatherum4 and added their own unique embellishments to create a truly captivating album in Air Not Meant For Us. I await further installments.

#4. Reverend Kristin Michael Hayter // Saved! – Healing isn’t easy, joyous, or pretty. It can be downright ugly and uncomfortable. So when the former Lingua Ignota decided to bury that moniker and go by her birth name, nobody knew what to expect except that it would be brutally honest and at times discomforting, and Saved!, with its sound akin to a field recording of an Appalachian fundamentalist cult, definitely nails both while not only being painful to experience, but in an odd way, provides a beautiful, if disturbing, painting of the healing process.

#3. Wayfarer // American Gothic – Black metal should not go well with the Old West. Denver, Colorado’s Wayfarer flew against this very notion, and crafted not only their best album to date, but also an absorbing, engrossing classic that begs to be absorbed in full with your complete, utmost attention. Never has black metal felt or sounded so goddamn warm, like a freshly-killed outlaw baking in the hot Tucson sun.

#2. Shores of Null // The Loss of Beauty – One of the things I loved most about writing here is watching new bands make their ascent, and on The Loss of Beauty, Italian doom lords Shores of Null are soaring now. With their captivating riff work, melancholic melodies, and Davide Straccione’s incredible vocals, The Loss of Beauty is the sound of a still-young band bringing their A-game to the fore.

#1. Godthrymm // Distortions – Reflections, the 2020 debut from Godthrymm, just barely missed the top spot that year, but still showed off how strong of a debut it was. Distortions improved what Reflections laid down, with meaty riffs, soaring leads, a fantastic rhythm section, and keyboardist Catherine Glencross’ angelic voice providing a complimentary accompaniment to her husband Hamish’s improved5 vocal delivery. This classic-doom-meets-classic-Pallbearer configuration landed my top spot as soon as I finished listening to it for the first time, and again, and again, and…

Biggest Disappointments o’ 2023

• The Passing of Kevin “Geordie” Walker – As a fledgling metalhead dipping his toes in the underground, one of the videos that helped nudge me into the direction of the more heavier, deeper waters was “Millennium,” the first single off of Pandemonium, the comeback album by legendary post-punk/industrial pioneers Killing Joke. So taken back by how vital, energetic, and direct it sounded, I bought Pandemonium, and was instantly blown away by how multi-faceted and talented guitarist Kevin “Geordie” Walker was. Slowly but surely, I would pull from different eras of Killing Joke’s discography, including both self-titleds, and besides Jaz Coleman’s frantic end-of-days proselytizing and gravel-coated voice, it was Walker’s hypnotically inventive guitar licks and powerful riffs that would become the soundtrack for many a workout session. Hearing of his passing in November was like losing a favorite uncle, and I know my listening habits would have changed drastically had I not been exposed to Walker or Killing Joke. Honour the fire forever, good chap.
• Aaron Lewis – Before I begin, this isn’t against hunting. If you’re at all carnivorous (like me), it’s a necessity in order to… y’know, live. But when everyone’s favorite whiner who bemoans how much of a bunch of snowflakes my generation and younger are while gleefully supplying the soundtrack of such snowflakery decides to use the bodies of 32 dead coyotes to promote his favorite businessman-turned-former President, you go from “nu-metal has-been” to “absolute piece of shit” in record time. And seeing as how nu-metal’s got no shortage of pieces of shit, that’s saying something. Speaking of pieces of shit…
• K.K. Downing – …dude, just fucking stop. Just. STOP. When I quit my last job acrimoniously, I didn’t try to win my job back while simultaneously taking a steaming shit on the owners. I left and never looked back. K.K., on the other hand, is special. I don’t know the full details, and I don’t want to know the full details, due to K.K. deciding to act like a crybaby and a perpetual victim, instead of behaving like he was one-half of Judas Priest’s highly influential guitar duo at one point. They even reached out to play the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame with the current line-up, to try to mend fences, and he still bitched up a storm. Be happy that you’ve got Judas Priest at Home your namesake Dollar Tree rip-off band now.
• The Sale and Butchering of Bandcamp – If you’ve known us for any length of time, you can probably guess that we all love Bandcamp around these parts. Easily the most artist-friendly music service out there, Bandcamp gave upcoming bands and labels, especially those who could use the reach, a voice and a chance, and even more so during Bandcamp Fridays, where the site’s fees were waived for all purchases. So of course Epic Games would buy it in March of last year, and then sell it to Songtradr, who would go on to lay off half of Bandcamp’s staff, including all those who were trying to unionize in order to protect their jobs. Was Bandcamp perfect? No, but I guarantee you most of your favorite new bands would have suffered if Bandcamp didn’t exist. To call this “heartbreaking” and “callous” would be a gross understatement. My heart goes out to those affected by the layoffs, and a giant, massive fuck you to Epic Games and Songtradr for fucking up an awesome thing.

Song o’ the Year

Godthrymm // “Devils” – Distortions possesses a number of songs that could easily fit into the #1 slot for Song o’ the Year.6 But, to me at least, “Devils” best exemplifies what the album’s all about: heavy riffing, somber melodies, enchanting vocals, and a slight tinge, no matter how small it might be, of hope. Also, the first half just kicks so much ass.

It’s been a wild, wild ride. Y’all be good.

#2023 #AaronLewis #AnaalNathrakh #Arboricidio #Bandcamp #Burzum #Darkher #DecibelMagazine #EpicGames #EyeOfSolitude #FallOfEfrafa #FiresInTheDistance #Godthrymm #GrymmSTopTenIshOf2023 #JudasPriest #KKDowning #Karras #KillingJoke #LinguaIgnota #Lists #Listurnalia #MetalInjection #MetalManiacsMagazine #Morrow #Pallbearer #ReverendKristinMichaelHayter #Saturnus #ShoresOfNull #SleepToken #Songtradr #SulphurAeon #Thantifaxath #Vainaja #Voivod #Wayfarer #Wormhole #Wreathe

Grymm’s Top Ten(ish) of 2023

By Grymm

2013: A wild Abbathian kitty appears, hellbent and determined to expose the world to bad jokes, hilarious perspectives, and most importantly, absolutely astonishingly great metal and metal-adjacent bands and performing artists. With his trusty minions by his side, this Blashyrkh-born-and-raised feline sets off into the realms of Angry Metal Guy with only one goal in mind: to spread the gospel of incredible music to the ears of those willing to listen. Hungry and passionate, and inspired by the likes of influential writers from the olden days of Metal Maniacs Magazine and Terrorizer, as well as trailblazers in the online world such as Metal Review/Last Rites, this cat marches forth, prepared for battle and the spoils of war to last for generations to come.

2023: A warehouse supervisor from Northeastern Florida, who’s squeezing what little free time he has in-between long work weeks with even longer hours, stares wearily and angrily at a blank WordPress screen. His eyes glaze over, knowing what he has to say but not how to go about it without constantly hitting that backspace key in a combined fit of worry and hesitation. Exhausted from work, and beaten down and heartbroken by what life has thrown his way over the last five years, this gentleman sits at his keyboard, glowing a soft blue like his favorite protagonist from his all-time favorite RPG,1 and prepares to type up a list of this year’s music that barely got him by, while also trying to come up with words to say about how he got here, how he’s really feeling, and everything surrounding those things without angering or disappointing others, knowing full well that it will be a fruitless endeavor because, as we all know, someone will pitch a bitchfit in the comments section. And with that, he sets forth on what is most likely the final thing he’ll write, at least for a good, long while.

These two wildly different characters are, as you can probably guess, the very same person. When I came onboard with Angry Metal Guy over a decade ago, the very idea of reviewing classic and new bands in my absolute favorite genre in the world, a genre that saved my pimply, awkward, teenage ass on many occasions, I jumped at the opportunity without hesitation. I wanted to inspire other metalheads like Alicia Morgan, Ula Gehret, Jeff Wagner, Mike Greenblatt, Greg Moffitt, S. Craig Zahler, Jordan Campbell, Dan Obstkrieg, and the late Katherine Ludwig did for me to hunt for, and write about, great metal music. In my eyes, Angry Metal Guy, not Decibel, was the closest in spirit to the late, great Metal Maniacs, and I wanted in on that. Throughout the last decade, not only did Angry Metal Guy the man take me under his wing, but so did Steel Druhm and Madam X, giving me insight and valuable tips on how to improve and leave my own mark without ever compromising my voice or my views. Also, I met some amazing people here, both readers and writers, that I wouldn’t have otherwise had I not written that review for Vattnet Viskar’s Sky Swallower. Seriously, the writers that are here now are some of the best people I have ever had the pleasure of working with, and they’re all amazing people with good hearts. I will not take their (or your) friendships and teamwork lightly. You’re all a second family to me, one I will cherish always, and I love you all. This is, more often than not, a thankless endeavor where you’re oftentimes been put through the wringer unjustly, so dealing with it at all to continue promoting bands should be commended.

So… what happened? To try to keep it brief as humanly possible, life happened. In 2018, I lost my older brother to a combination of personal neglect caused by depression, combined with a bacterial infection that lead to sepsis and a fatal heart attack. 2019, instead of taking time to grieve, I dove into work and writing. Quickly realizing that it was a mistake in doing so, I promised myself to not do that going forward. From 2020 through 2022, I would not be able to fulfill that promise, as my work exploded due to the pandemic, working myself past exhaustion to the point where I almost died from bacterial pneumonia in the tail end of 2021. This year alone, between losing one of my all-time favorite cats ever to cancer at an alarmingly young age, and having my partner lose his mom not even a full week later, and dealing with an estate that could have very well left us homeless, all combined to do a number on my physical and mental well-being to the point where my (now former) doctor was concerned due to the fact many of my newly-acquired symptoms I was experiencing this year mirrored those of colorectal cancer. Thankfully, it was all “just” the wonderful side effects of extreme burnout and being stressed the fuck out, but it made me realize that writing, and responding to people who are mad that I (checks notes) enjoyed things, needed to take a back seat in a big way.

But two other things set the decision in motion. One is the sorry state of metal sites and magazines, and how they go about covering things. I don’t believe in non-stop hype of mid-to-terrible bands,2 nor do I believe extraneously overwrought word salad to the point of sheer nonsense is the way to go,3 but at least they cover new bands that most would probably never have heard of otherwise. Your Shores of Nulls, your Darkhers, your Vainajas and the like. Sites like Metal Injection, on the other hand, can’t be fucked to do that, since it’s obviously more important to cover everyone’s favorite born-again chucklefuck and how he felt about trying to unalive his ex-wife via hitman/undercover cop, or Greg Kennelty shaming others because his favorite cilantro of the month is now popular. Ever since Albert Mudrian and Decibel decided it would be a splendid idea to not only give Burzum a fucking cover, but also a goddamn Decibel Hall of Fame induction in 2011, giving absolute pieces of shit a voice, or bands who already have a gross overabundance of coverage, is not only welcome, but seemingly encouraged at the expense of those who are battling to just be seen and heard. I don’t care about Sleep Token. I sure as shit don’t give an eighth of a fuck what Tim Lambesis’ shoulder routine is. That said, these days I’m just tickled pink that Kennelty has stopped rewriting negative reviews into way more positive ones, at least for the time being.

But most egregiously, there was something else that happened in the tail end of 2021 that ultimately sealed the deal, and it involved my second coming-out piece, and a certain Top Ten(ish) entry made in response to that (which got its own response). I’m not going into more detail about it out of respect to my fellow writers who also put in the hard work to move on from it, as everyone who’s been reading the site for a long time knows. All I can say is that, even with my best efforts to move on, it did a number on my creativity, humor, and most painfully my desire to write to the point where I feel like I’m merely going through the motions since it happened.

Which, to be frank, isn’t fair to me, it isn’t fair to anyone here writing for this great site, and it sure as shit isn’t fair to you. This year’s top ten is going to be the last thing I write here, at least for a long time, until I can find the passion, the hunger, and the drive to write again about the music I still love, even if portions of it want me gone, peacefully or not. I will continue to support my favorite bands. I will continue reading and chiming in to Angry Metal Guy. I will continue to quietly fight for those whose voices need to be heard. I’ll just be supporting from the sidelines from this point forward. If I find that passion again, things could be different. For now, though, the site needs people who are far hungrier than I am, and I need time to break away and rediscover my smile again.

I guess what I want to say is… thank you all, writers and readers, for the memories, the friendships, the great music, and the ability to give a worn-out warehouse supervisor a voice and an attempt at a teenage dream. Ten years is a long, long time, and I love you all for putting up with me for that long. In departing, I’ll quote Anaal Nathrakh’s anthem, “Endarkenment”:

“Take what small comfort there may be left;
seize what you love, and damn all the rest.”

Onward, now and forever…

#ish. Wormhole // Almost Human – Anything even remotely coming close to the wheelhouse of Voivod will get a near-Pavlovian response from me, and Wormhole’s skronky, atonal, and relentlessly heavy take on our favorite Québécois is undeniable. To quote our favorite resident sponge, “WOOOOOOOOORMHOOOOOOOOOLE!!!”

#10. Saturnus // The Storm Within – Denmark’s Saturnus is quickly joining up with the Peaceville Three in terms of being a doom/death institution, and their fifth album showcases just why that is. With crushing riffs, soaring leads by Indee Rehal-Sagoo (ex-Eye of Solitude), The Storm Within is a deadly catch, indeed.

#9. Sulphur Aeon // Seven Crowns and Seven Seals – Germanic blackened death metal prodigies Sulphur Aeon finally returned after a five-year absence with the remarkable Seven Crowns and Seven Seals, an album that many claim to be not as strong as their three prior releases… which is an awful lot like saying comparing a championship win against another from the same sports team in subsequent seasons. It’s still a winner, and head and shoulders above their contemporaries.

#8. Thantifaxath // Hive Mind Narcosis – This anonymous Canadian trio continues to impress and terrify, with atonal riffs, barely-together rhythms, and the foreboding sense of everything feeling like it’s caving in and collapsing all at once add up to one of 2023’s most chaotic and frightening albums. If you enjoy excessive headfuckery, this is your ticket.

#7. Karras // We Poison Their Young – There needs to be more albums that just get to the point without any fat or bullshit getting in the way, and France’s Karras say more in 21 minutes than most band with three, even four, times as much length. Get in, fuck shit up, move the fuck on. More, please.

#6. Wreathe // The Land Is Not An Idle God – I miss Fall of Efrafa. I also love Morrow. Chances are, you do, too. Wreathe features key members of both bands, as well as Arboricidio, and it throws down just as hard and passionately as all three aforementioned bands. If you love emokrust, you are either onto this, or discovering it right the fuck now. You’re welcome!

#5. Fires in the Distance // Air Not Meant For Us – If you told me years ago that some of the best melodic doom/death would be from Connecticut, I would have laughed in your face to the point of an asthma attack. Yet, Fires in the Distance took what makes Insomnium and Omnium Gatherum4 and added their own unique embellishments to create a truly captivating album in Air Not Meant For Us. I await further installments.

#4. Reverend Kristin Michael Hayter // Saved! – Healing isn’t easy, joyous, or pretty. It can be downright ugly and uncomfortable. So when the former Lingua Ignota decided to bury that moniker and go by her birth name, nobody knew what to expect except that it would be brutally honest and at times discomforting, and Saved!, with its sound akin to a field recording of an Appalachian fundamentalist cult, definitely nails both while not only being painful to experience, but in an odd way, provides a beautiful, if disturbing, painting of the healing process.

#3. Wayfarer // American Gothic – Black metal should not go well with the Old West. Denver, Colorado’s Wayfarer flew against this very notion, and crafted not only their best album to date, but also an absorbing, engrossing classic that begs to be absorbed in full with your complete, utmost attention. Never has black metal felt or sounded so goddamn warm, like a freshly-killed outlaw baking in the hot Tucson sun.

#2. Shores of Null // The Loss of Beauty – One of the things I loved most about writing here is watching new bands make their ascent, and on The Loss of Beauty, Italian doom lords Shores of Null are soaring now. With their captivating riff work, melancholic melodies, and Davide Straccione’s incredible vocals, The Loss of Beauty is the sound of a still-young band bringing their A-game to the fore.

#1. Godthrymm // Distortions – Reflections, the 2020 debut from Godthrymm, just barely missed the top spot that year, but still showed off how strong of a debut it was. Distortions improved what Reflections laid down, with meaty riffs, soaring leads, a fantastic rhythm section, and keyboardist Catherine Glencross’ angelic voice providing a complimentary accompaniment to her husband Hamish’s improved5 vocal delivery. This classic-doom-meets-classic-Pallbearer configuration landed my top spot as soon as I finished listening to it for the first time, and again, and again, and…

Biggest Disappointments o’ 2023

• The Passing of Kevin “Geordie” Walker – As a fledgling metalhead dipping his toes in the underground, one of the videos that helped nudge me into the direction of the more heavier, deeper waters was “Millennium,” the first single off of Pandemonium, the comeback album by legendary post-punk/industrial pioneers Killing Joke. So taken back by how vital, energetic, and direct it sounded, I bought Pandemonium, and was instantly blown away by how multi-faceted and talented guitarist Kevin “Geordie” Walker was. Slowly but surely, I would pull from different eras of Killing Joke’s discography, including both self-titleds, and besides Jaz Coleman’s frantic end-of-days proselytizing and gravel-coated voice, it was Walker’s hypnotically inventive guitar licks and powerful riffs that would become the soundtrack for many a workout session. Hearing of his passing in November was like losing a favorite uncle, and I know my listening habits would have changed drastically had I not been exposed to Walker or Killing Joke. Honour the fire forever, good chap.
• Aaron Lewis – Before I begin, this isn’t against hunting. If you’re at all carnivorous (like me), it’s a necessity in order to… y’know, live. But when everyone’s favorite whiner who bemoans how much of a bunch of snowflakes my generation and younger are while gleefully supplying the soundtrack of such snowflakery decides to use the bodies of 32 dead coyotes to promote his favorite businessman-turned-former President, you go from “nu-metal has-been” to “absolute piece of shit” in record time. And seeing as how nu-metal’s got no shortage of pieces of shit, that’s saying something. Speaking of pieces of shit…
• K.K. Downing – …dude, just fucking stop. Just. STOP. When I quit my last job acrimoniously, I didn’t try to win my job back while simultaneously taking a steaming shit on the owners. I left and never looked back. K.K., on the other hand, is special. I don’t know the full details, and I don’t want to know the full details, due to K.K. deciding to act like a crybaby and a perpetual victim, instead of behaving like he was one-half of Judas Priest’s highly influential guitar duo at one point. They even reached out to play the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame with the current line-up, to try to mend fences, and he still bitched up a storm. Be happy that you’ve got Judas Priest at Home your namesake Dollar Tree rip-off band now.
• The Sale and Butchering of Bandcamp – If you’ve known us for any length of time, you can probably guess that we all love Bandcamp around these parts. Easily the most artist-friendly music service out there, Bandcamp gave upcoming bands and labels, especially those who could use the reach, a voice and a chance, and even more so during Bandcamp Fridays, where the site’s fees were waived for all purchases. So of course Epic Games would buy it in March of last year, and then sell it to Songtradr, who would go on to lay off half of Bandcamp’s staff, including all those who were trying to unionize in order to protect their jobs. Was Bandcamp perfect? No, but I guarantee you most of your favorite new bands would have suffered if Bandcamp didn’t exist. To call this “heartbreaking” and “callous” would be a gross understatement. My heart goes out to those affected by the layoffs, and a giant, massive fuck you to Epic Games and Songtradr for fucking up an awesome thing.

Song o’ the Year

Godthrymm // “Devils” – Distortions possesses a number of songs that could easily fit into the #1 slot for Song o’ the Year.6 But, to me at least, “Devils” best exemplifies what the album’s all about: heavy riffing, somber melodies, enchanting vocals, and a slight tinge, no matter how small it might be, of hope. Also, the first half just kicks so much ass.

It’s been a wild, wild ride. Y’all be good.

#2023 #AaronLewis #AnaalNathrakh #Arboricidio #Bandcamp #Burzum #Darkher #DecibelMagazine #EpicGames #EyeOfSolitude #FallOfEfrafa #FiresInTheDistance #Godthrymm #GrymmSTopTenIshOf2023 #JudasPriest #KKDowning #Karras #KillingJoke #LinguaIgnota #Lists #Listurnalia #MetalInjection #MetalManiacsMagazine #Morrow #Pallbearer #ReverendKristinMichaelHayter #Saturnus #ShoresOfNull #SleepToken #Songtradr #SulphurAeon #Thantifaxath #Vainaja #Voivod #Wayfarer #Wormhole #Wreathe