#scottishmetal — Public Fediverse posts

“Scordatura” is an Italian word that means “mistuning.” This is a technique used for stringed instruments to allow for bizarre chords, or to simplify progressions that would require a lot of tendon mutilation to achieve in normal tunings. It’s a dope name, a cool concept, and an example of metal’s infinite ability to make badass monikers out of otherwise clinical, innocent terminology. Hailing from Scotland, rather than the land of leaning towers and opera, Scordatura have arrived with their 4th opus, Led Into Oblivion. Between their choice of title and their selection of album name, what sort of hellish soundscape awaits within?

With a name rooted in deep music theory, you’d expect an assault in the vein of Replicant or modern Pestilence. This is not the case. Scordatura lay their foundations off a respectable set of giant shoulders, featuring a high octane assault flavored primarily with the self-titled era of Cryptopsy. Drums are blasted, guitar strings are shredded, and the tempo maintains a consistently blurry pace. “Retali(H)ate” and “Led Into Oblivion” feature start-stop riffing with vocalist Daryl Boyce sounding like the lost brother of Matt McGachy in his earlier days, with the occasional sustained chord letting drummer Tam Moran show off flair and chops with rapid-fire cymbal fills. Doses of classic Vader stomp pepper “Oppressed Repressed”, and nods to Suffocation run through “Echoes of a Fractured Mind”. The flavor of the olde and trve are deeply embedded throughout the construction of Led Into Oblivion, all filtered through an exuberant attack that rarely pauses for breath.

In keeping with the stylings, Led Into Oblivion also keeps up with the sound. This album is meaty, layered, and not the most dynamic beast, but all instruments are given room to breathe by brutal death standards. A healthy dollop of pinch harmonics flow throughout the riff construction, and bassist Liam McCafferty is constantly heard clanging away in the background with the occasional spotlight given for a fill or scale. The concise runtime (about the length of Reign in Blood, yet another nod to the building blocks of greats) ensures ear fatigue doesn’t set in despite the perpetually speedy approach. A good track order does keep variety from cut to cut, with “A Manic Indoctrination” featuring open chord progressions and our first dose of real mid-tempo sound before the drums resume blasting away under the building menace. While being a well-arranged list of brutal death tropes, Scordatura wisely leave the concrete brick styled production in the past.

The only major blemish on Led Into Oblivion is a common one, but one that cannot be overlooked. Scordatura have spent so much time distilling the essence of the greats into their overall sound without capturing the distinguishing factors that made them great. “Existential Termination” dalliances with downtempo Cannibal Corpse, and the grindier moments of WWtFW era Dying Fetus as well as Deicide raise their head, but these snapshots lack the staying power of those names. Led Into Oblivion is an enjoyable release without any significant flaws, but it’s difficult to recall any standout moments once the album reaches its conclusion. This is disappointing, as Scordatura clearly have the skills to emulate all of these bands, but can’t quite stick the landing on a stank face triggering “rewind it and listen again” moment to distinguish it from their mountain of peers. Closer “Begging to Die” is an easy illustration, goes full New York style with a bouncy main riff which smacks of modern Pyrexia groove before trying to drop an Archspire verse (sans the vocals) and leads the listener to a thunderous but blurred conclusion.

Despite a name implying forays into the more uncomfortable realms of death, Scordatura have offered up a platter of decent-grade tribute to the death of olde. Led Into Oblivion isn’t a bad album, and is definitely worth a casual listen or three. But the band is still on the hunt for the X Factor to push them beyond their influences. They certainly have the playing chops, and I believe the compositional ability to make it come together. For now, let yourself be Led Into Oblivion and hear a good combination of the sounds of yore; just don’t be surprised when you find yourself wishing you were listening to their influences instead.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Everlasting Spew Records
Website: Album Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: June 19th, 2026

“Scordatura” is an Italian word that means “mistuning.” This is a technique used for stringed instruments to allow for bizarre chords, or to simplify progressions that would require a lot of tendon mutilation to achieve in normal tunings. It’s a dope name, a cool concept, and an example of metal’s infinite ability to make badass monikers out of otherwise clinical, innocent terminology. Hailing from Scotland, rather than the land of leaning towers and opera, Scordatura have arrived with their 4th opus, Led Into Oblivion. Between their choice of title and their selection of album name, what sort of hellish soundscape awaits within?

With a name rooted in deep music theory, you’d expect an assault in the vein of Replicant or modern Pestilence. This is not the case. Scordatura lay their foundations off a respectable set of giant shoulders, featuring a high octane assault flavored primarily with the self-titled era of Cryptopsy. Drums are blasted, guitar strings are shredded, and the tempo maintains a consistently blurry pace. “Retali(H)ate” and “Led Into Oblivion” feature start-stop riffing with vocalist Daryl Boyce sounding like the lost brother of Matt McGachy in his earlier days, with the occasional sustained chord letting drummer Tam Moran show off flair and chops with rapid-fire cymbal fills. Doses of classic Vader stomp pepper “Oppressed Repressed”, and nods to Suffocation run through “Echoes of a Fractured Mind”. The flavor of the olde and trve are deeply embedded throughout the construction of Led Into Oblivion, all filtered through an exuberant attack that rarely pauses for breath.

In keeping with the stylings, Led Into Oblivion also keeps up with the sound. This album is meaty, layered, and not the most dynamic beast, but all instruments are given room to breathe by brutal death standards. A healthy dollop of pinch harmonics flow throughout the riff construction, and bassist Liam McCafferty is constantly heard clanging away in the background with the occasional spotlight given for a fill or scale. The concise runtime (about the length of Reign in Blood, yet another nod to the building blocks of greats) ensures ear fatigue doesn’t set in despite the perpetually speedy approach. A good track order does keep variety from cut to cut, with “A Manic Indoctrination” featuring open chord progressions and our first dose of real mid-tempo sound before the drums resume blasting away under the building menace. While being a well-arranged list of brutal death tropes, Scordatura wisely leave the concrete brick styled production in the past.

The only major blemish on Led Into Oblivion is a common one, but one that cannot be overlooked. Scordatura have spent so much time distilling the essence of the greats into their overall sound without capturing the distinguishing factors that made them great. “Existential Termination” dalliances with downtempo Cannibal Corpse, and the grindier moments of WWtFW era Dying Fetus as well as Deicide raise their head, but these snapshots lack the staying power of those names. Led Into Oblivion is an enjoyable release without any significant flaws, but it’s difficult to recall any standout moments once the album reaches its conclusion. This is disappointing, as Scordatura clearly have the skills to emulate all of these bands, but can’t quite stick the landing on a stank face triggering “rewind it and listen again” moment to distinguish it from their mountain of peers. Closer “Begging to Die” is an easy illustration, goes full New York style with a bouncy main riff which smacks of modern Pyrexia groove before trying to drop an Archspire verse (sans the vocals) and leads the listener to a thunderous but blurred conclusion.

Despite a name implying forays into the more uncomfortable realms of death, Scordatura have offered up a platter of decent-grade tribute to the death of olde. Led Into Oblivion isn’t a bad album, and is definitely worth a casual listen or three. But the band is still on the hunt for the X Factor to push them beyond their influences. They certainly have the playing chops, and I believe the compositional ability to make it come together. For now, let yourself be Led Into Oblivion and hear a good combination of the sounds of yore; just don’t be surprised when you find yourself wishing you were listening to their influences instead.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Everlasting Spew Records
Website: Album Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: June 19th, 2026

“Scordatura” is an Italian word that means “mistuning.” This is a technique used for stringed instruments to allow for bizarre chords, or to simplify progressions that would require a lot of tendon mutilation to achieve in normal tunings. It’s a dope name, a cool concept, and an example of metal’s infinite ability to make badass monikers out of otherwise clinical, innocent terminology. Hailing from Scotland, rather than the land of leaning towers and opera, Scordatura have arrived with their 4th opus, Led Into Oblivion. Between their choice of title and their selection of album name, what sort of hellish soundscape awaits within?

With a name rooted in deep music theory, you’d expect an assault in the vein of Replicant or modern Pestilence. This is not the case. Scordatura lay their foundations off a respectable set of giant shoulders, featuring a high octane assault flavored primarily with the self-titled era of Cryptopsy. Drums are blasted, guitar strings are shredded, and the tempo maintains a consistently blurry pace. “Retali(H)ate” and “Led Into Oblivion” feature start-stop riffing with vocalist Daryl Boyce sounding like the lost brother of Matt McGachy in his earlier days, with the occasional sustained chord letting drummer Tam Moran show off flair and chops with rapid-fire cymbal fills. Doses of classic Vader stomp pepper “Oppressed Repressed”, and nods to Suffocation run through “Echoes of a Fractured Mind”. The flavor of the olde and trve are deeply embedded throughout the construction of Led Into Oblivion, all filtered through an exuberant attack that rarely pauses for breath.

In keeping with the stylings, Led Into Oblivion also keeps up with the sound. This album is meaty, layered, and not the most dynamic beast, but all instruments are given room to breathe by brutal death standards. A healthy dollop of pinch harmonics flow throughout the riff construction, and bassist Liam McCafferty is constantly heard clanging away in the background with the occasional spotlight given for a fill or scale. The concise runtime (about the length of Reign in Blood, yet another nod to the building blocks of greats) ensures ear fatigue doesn’t set in despite the perpetually speedy approach. A good track order does keep variety from cut to cut, with “A Manic Indoctrination” featuring open chord progressions and our first dose of real mid-tempo sound before the drums resume blasting away under the building menace. While being a well-arranged list of brutal death tropes, Scordatura wisely leave the concrete brick styled production in the past.

The only major blemish on Led Into Oblivion is a common one, but one that cannot be overlooked. Scordatura have spent so much time distilling the essence of the greats into their overall sound without capturing the distinguishing factors that made them great. “Existential Termination” dalliances with downtempo Cannibal Corpse, and the grindier moments of WWtFW era Dying Fetus as well as Deicide raise their head, but these snapshots lack the staying power of those names. Led Into Oblivion is an enjoyable release without any significant flaws, but it’s difficult to recall any standout moments once the album reaches its conclusion. This is disappointing, as Scordatura clearly have the skills to emulate all of these bands, but can’t quite stick the landing on a stank face triggering “rewind it and listen again” moment to distinguish it from their mountain of peers. Closer “Begging to Die” is an easy illustration, goes full New York style with a bouncy main riff which smacks of modern Pyrexia groove before trying to drop an Archspire verse (sans the vocals) and leads the listener to a thunderous but blurred conclusion.

Despite a name implying forays into the more uncomfortable realms of death, Scordatura have offered up a platter of decent-grade tribute to the death of olde. Led Into Oblivion isn’t a bad album, and is definitely worth a casual listen or three. But the band is still on the hunt for the X Factor to push them beyond their influences. They certainly have the playing chops, and I believe the compositional ability to make it come together. For now, let yourself be Led Into Oblivion and hear a good combination of the sounds of yore; just don’t be surprised when you find yourself wishing you were listening to their influences instead.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Everlasting Spew Records
Website: Album Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: June 19th, 2026

“Scordatura” is an Italian word that means “mistuning.” This is a technique used for stringed instruments to allow for bizarre chords, or to simplify progressions that would require a lot of tendon mutilation to achieve in normal tunings. It’s a dope name, a cool concept, and an example of metal’s infinite ability to make badass monikers out of otherwise clinical, innocent terminology. Hailing from Scotland, rather than the land of leaning towers and opera, Scordatura have arrived with their 4th opus, Led Into Oblivion. Between their choice of title and their selection of album name, what sort of hellish soundscape awaits within?

With a name rooted in deep music theory, you’d expect an assault in the vein of Replicant or modern Pestilence. This is not the case. Scordatura lay their foundations off a respectable set of giant shoulders, featuring a high octane assault flavored primarily with the self-titled era of Cryptopsy. Drums are blasted, guitar strings are shredded, and the tempo maintains a consistently blurry pace. “Retali(H)ate” and “Led Into Oblivion” feature start-stop riffing with vocalist Daryl Boyce sounding like the lost brother of Matt McGachy in his earlier days, with the occasional sustained chord letting drummer Tam Moran show off flair and chops with rapid-fire cymbal fills. Doses of classic Vader stomp pepper “Oppressed Repressed”, and nods to Suffocation run through “Echoes of a Fractured Mind”. The flavor of the olde and trve are deeply embedded throughout the construction of Led Into Oblivion, all filtered through an exuberant attack that rarely pauses for breath.

In keeping with the stylings, Led Into Oblivion also keeps up with the sound. This album is meaty, layered, and not the most dynamic beast, but all instruments are given room to breathe by brutal death standards. A healthy dollop of pinch harmonics flow throughout the riff construction, and bassist Liam McCafferty is constantly heard clanging away in the background with the occasional spotlight given for a fill or scale. The concise runtime (about the length of Reign in Blood, yet another nod to the building blocks of greats) ensures ear fatigue doesn’t set in despite the perpetually speedy approach. A good track order does keep variety from cut to cut, with “A Manic Indoctrination” featuring open chord progressions and our first dose of real mid-tempo sound before the drums resume blasting away under the building menace. While being a well-arranged list of brutal death tropes, Scordatura wisely leave the concrete brick styled production in the past.

The only major blemish on Led Into Oblivion is a common one, but one that cannot be overlooked. Scordatura have spent so much time distilling the essence of the greats into their overall sound without capturing the distinguishing factors that made them great. “Existential Termination” dalliances with downtempo Cannibal Corpse, and the grindier moments of WWtFW era Dying Fetus as well as Deicide raise their head, but these snapshots lack the staying power of those names. Led Into Oblivion is an enjoyable release without any significant flaws, but it’s difficult to recall any standout moments once the album reaches its conclusion. This is disappointing, as Scordatura clearly have the skills to emulate all of these bands, but can’t quite stick the landing on a stank face triggering “rewind it and listen again” moment to distinguish it from their mountain of peers. Closer “Begging to Die” is an easy illustration, goes full New York style with a bouncy main riff which smacks of modern Pyrexia groove before trying to drop an Archspire verse (sans the vocals) and leads the listener to a thunderous but blurred conclusion.

Despite a name implying forays into the more uncomfortable realms of death, Scordatura have offered up a platter of decent-grade tribute to the death of olde. Led Into Oblivion isn’t a bad album, and is definitely worth a casual listen or three. But the band is still on the hunt for the X Factor to push them beyond their influences. They certainly have the playing chops, and I believe the compositional ability to make it come together. For now, let yourself be Led Into Oblivion and hear a good combination of the sounds of yore; just don’t be surprised when you find yourself wishing you were listening to their influences instead.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Everlasting Spew Records
Website: Album Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: June 19th, 2026

https://www.europesays.com/uk/942329/ Electric Sun Defence – Estuary Review #2026 #40 #CultOfLuna #Dvne #ElectricSunDefence #Entertainment #Estuary #May26 #music #PgLost #PostRock #PostMetal #ProgressiveMetal #RedSparowes #Review #Reviews #RoadToMasochist #ScottishMetal #TheMassacreCave #TheOcean #UK #UnitedKingdom #VoidOfLight

It’s easy to take the Internet for granted, given how ubiquitous it is these days. A couple of decades ago, it would have been unthinkable for someone like me who lives in the United States to stumble upon music made by a group from Eigg. Hailing from this small Scottish island—with a population of only about 100—Joe Cormack and Pete Colquhoun formed Electric Sun Defence following the early dissolution of their former group, The Massacre Cave, after just one album that was released in 2020. Estuary represents the next step along this trail of spirited progressive/post-metal that these two bandmates began blazing years ago.

It turns out that Estuary is an apt metaphor for Electric Sun Defence’s music. Estuaries, formed when freshwater rivers mix with the salty ocean, account for some of the world’s most productive wildlife ecosystems. Similarly, Estuary inhabits the sweet spot between the melodicism of prog and the coarse textures of post-metal. Much like The Ocean and Void of Light, Electric Sun Defence is prone to change from tranquil to tempestuous at a moment’s notice. The flurries of activity are glued together with delicious, delicate post-rock segments in the vein of pg.lost or Red Sparowes. The balance between these competing interests can feel fragile at times, but they manage to coexist and enrich their musical environment together.

Estuary’s standout strength is the masterful buildup and discharge of tension. This is immediately clear as the title track begins, layering bass and horns atop cymbal taps and serene guitars, then eventually erupting into a furious post-metal wave. “Fountain of Blood” takes things further with harsh guitar riffs that also contain the perfect amount of groove. “The Master’s Garden” deftly winds between glassy post-rock and distorted chords, climaxing with an intricate guitar melody. Though the intensity waxes and wanes, there is a clear trend of increasing aggression as Estuary progresses, becoming more like a combination of Cult of Luna and Dvne for the final two tracks, “Phantom Limb Amputee” and “In Bestia.” During the latter, Pete Colquhoun really gets to let loose with forceful and frenetic rhythms behind the kit. Don’t let the monochromatic album art fool you; Electric Sun Defence paints with a wide array of aural hues.

The dynamic composition is good, but when paired with an intuitive flow, the experience borders on transcendent. Each track fluidly transitions to the next, and the fact that none of them exceeds 8 minutes helps to keep Estuary from becoming stale. This is a rare instance of the shorter interlude tracks serving a larger purpose, albeit in a subtle way. “Spiderweb” is pretty enough that I can look past its bothersome soundbites, and “Dysmorph” functions as a reprieve while setting the stage for the raging “Phantom Limb Amputee” that follows. The grouping of these tracks with the shoegaze elements in “Choke Leper” causes the momentum to sag a little, but not terribly so. Another minor weak point is that the vocals—especially the cleans—can sound muffled, but the strength of the instruments helps compensate.

Though I entered Estuary with no expectations, it turned out to be exactly what I was looking for at the time. It keeps the listener guessing from moment to moment with the continual assurance that they’ll love whatever comes next. Electric Sun Defence shows their versatility by wielding both emotive melody and crushing ferocity. Albums like this make me pause and appreciate the privilege we have to conveniently access great music from all over the world. Electric Sun Defence might be the best metal group in Eigg by default, but they can give others in larger regions a serious run for their money too.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Road To Masochist
Websites: electricsundefence.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/people/Electric-Sun-Defence
Releases Worldwide: May 8th, 2026

It’s easy to take the Internet for granted, given how ubiquitous it is these days. A couple of decades ago, it would have been unthinkable for someone like me who lives in the United States to stumble upon music made by a group from Eigg. Hailing from this small Scottish island—with a population of only about 100—Joe Cormack and Pete Colquhoun formed Electric Sun Defence following the early dissolution of their former group, The Massacre Cave, after just one album that was released in 2020. Estuary represents the next step along this trail of spirited progressive/post-metal that these two bandmates began blazing years ago.

It turns out that Estuary is an apt metaphor for Electric Sun Defence’s music. Estuaries, formed when freshwater rivers mix with the salty ocean, account for some of the world’s most productive wildlife ecosystems. Similarly, Estuary inhabits the sweet spot between the melodicism of prog and the coarse textures of post-metal. Much like The Ocean and Void of Light, Electric Sun Defence is prone to change from tranquil to tempestuous at a moment’s notice. The flurries of activity are glued together with delicious, delicate post-rock segments in the vein of pg.lost or Red Sparowes. The balance between these competing interests can feel fragile at times, but they manage to coexist and enrich their musical environment together.

Estuary’s standout strength is the masterful buildup and discharge of tension. This is immediately clear as the title track begins, layering bass and horns atop cymbal taps and serene guitars, then eventually erupting into a furious post-metal wave. “Fountain of Blood” takes things further with harsh guitar riffs that also contain the perfect amount of groove. “The Master’s Garden” deftly winds between glassy post-rock and distorted chords, climaxing with an intricate guitar melody. Though the intensity waxes and wanes, there is a clear trend of increasing aggression as Estuary progresses, becoming more like a combination of Cult of Luna and Dvne for the final two tracks, “Phantom Limb Amputee” and “In Bestia.” During the latter, Pete Colquhoun really gets to let loose with forceful and frenetic rhythms behind the kit. Don’t let the monochromatic album art fool you; Electric Sun Defence paints with a wide array of aural hues.

The dynamic composition is good, but when paired with an intuitive flow, the experience borders on transcendent. Each track fluidly transitions to the next, and the fact that none of them exceeds 8 minutes helps to keep Estuary from becoming stale. This is a rare instance of the shorter interlude tracks serving a larger purpose, albeit in a subtle way. “Spiderweb” is pretty enough that I can look past its bothersome soundbites, and “Dysmorph” functions as a reprieve while setting the stage for the raging “Phantom Limb Amputee” that follows. The grouping of these tracks with the shoegaze elements in “Choke Leper” causes the momentum to sag a little, but not terribly so. Another minor weak point is that the vocals—especially the cleans—can sound muffled, but the strength of the instruments helps compensate.

Though I entered Estuary with no expectations, it turned out to be exactly what I was looking for at the time. It keeps the listener guessing from moment to moment with the continual assurance that they’ll love whatever comes next. Electric Sun Defence shows their versatility by wielding both emotive melody and crushing ferocity. Albums like this make me pause and appreciate the privilege we have to conveniently access great music from all over the world. Electric Sun Defence might be the best metal group in Eigg by default, but they can give others in larger regions a serious run for their money too.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Road To Masochist
Websites: electricsundefence.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/people/Electric-Sun-Defence
Releases Worldwide: May 8th, 2026

It’s easy to take the Internet for granted, given how ubiquitous it is these days. A couple of decades ago, it would have been unthinkable for someone like me who lives in the United States to stumble upon music made by a group from Eigg. Hailing from this small Scottish island—with a population of only about 100—Joe Cormack and Pete Colquhoun formed Electric Sun Defence following the early dissolution of their former group, The Massacre Cave, after just one album that was released in 2020. Estuary represents the next step along this trail of spirited progressive/post-metal that these two bandmates began blazing years ago.

It turns out that Estuary is an apt metaphor for Electric Sun Defence’s music. Estuaries, formed when freshwater rivers mix with the salty ocean, account for some of the world’s most productive wildlife ecosystems. Similarly, Estuary inhabits the sweet spot between the melodicism of prog and the coarse textures of post-metal. Much like The Ocean and Void of Light, Electric Sun Defence is prone to change from tranquil to tempestuous at a moment’s notice. The flurries of activity are glued together with delicious, delicate post-rock segments in the vein of pg.lost or Red Sparowes. The balance between these competing interests can feel fragile at times, but they manage to coexist and enrich their musical environment together.

Estuary’s standout strength is the masterful buildup and discharge of tension. This is immediately clear as the title track begins, layering bass and horns atop cymbal taps and serene guitars, then eventually erupting into a furious post-metal wave. “Fountain of Blood” takes things further with harsh guitar riffs that also contain the perfect amount of groove. “The Master’s Garden” deftly winds between glassy post-rock and distorted chords, climaxing with an intricate guitar melody. Though the intensity waxes and wanes, there is a clear trend of increasing aggression as Estuary progresses, becoming more like a combination of Cult of Luna and Dvne for the final two tracks, “Phantom Limb Amputee” and “In Bestia.” During the latter, Pete Colquhoun really gets to let loose with forceful and frenetic rhythms behind the kit. Don’t let the monochromatic album art fool you; Electric Sun Defence paints with a wide array of aural hues.

The dynamic composition is good, but when paired with an intuitive flow, the experience borders on transcendent. Each track fluidly transitions to the next, and the fact that none of them exceeds 8 minutes helps to keep Estuary from becoming stale. This is a rare instance of the shorter interlude tracks serving a larger purpose, albeit in a subtle way. “Spiderweb” is pretty enough that I can look past its bothersome soundbites, and “Dysmorph” functions as a reprieve while setting the stage for the raging “Phantom Limb Amputee” that follows. The grouping of these tracks with the shoegaze elements in “Choke Leper” causes the momentum to sag a little, but not terribly so. Another minor weak point is that the vocals—especially the cleans—can sound muffled, but the strength of the instruments helps compensate.

Though I entered Estuary with no expectations, it turned out to be exactly what I was looking for at the time. It keeps the listener guessing from moment to moment with the continual assurance that they’ll love whatever comes next. Electric Sun Defence shows their versatility by wielding both emotive melody and crushing ferocity. Albums like this make me pause and appreciate the privilege we have to conveniently access great music from all over the world. Electric Sun Defence might be the best metal group in Eigg by default, but they can give others in larger regions a serious run for their money too.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Road To Masochist
Websites: electricsundefence.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/people/Electric-Sun-Defence
Releases Worldwide: May 8th, 2026

It’s easy to take the Internet for granted, given how ubiquitous it is these days. A couple of decades ago, it would have been unthinkable for someone like me who lives in the United States to stumble upon music made by a group from Eigg. Hailing from this small Scottish island—with a population of only about 100—Joe Cormack and Pete Colquhoun formed Electric Sun Defence following the early dissolution of their former group, The Massacre Cave, after just one album that was released in 2020. Estuary represents the next step along this trail of spirited progressive/post-metal that these two bandmates began blazing years ago.

It turns out that Estuary is an apt metaphor for Electric Sun Defence’s music. Estuaries, formed when freshwater rivers mix with the salty ocean, account for some of the world’s most productive wildlife ecosystems. Similarly, Estuary inhabits the sweet spot between the melodicism of prog and the coarse textures of post-metal. Much like The Ocean and Void of Light, Electric Sun Defence is prone to change from tranquil to tempestuous at a moment’s notice. The flurries of activity are glued together with delicious, delicate post-rock segments in the vein of pg.lost or Red Sparowes. The balance between these competing interests can feel fragile at times, but they manage to coexist and enrich their musical environment together.

Estuary’s standout strength is the masterful buildup and discharge of tension. This is immediately clear as the title track begins, layering bass and horns atop cymbal taps and serene guitars, then eventually erupting into a furious post-metal wave. “Fountain of Blood” takes things further with harsh guitar riffs that also contain the perfect amount of groove. “The Master’s Garden” deftly winds between glassy post-rock and distorted chords, climaxing with an intricate guitar melody. Though the intensity waxes and wanes, there is a clear trend of increasing aggression as Estuary progresses, becoming more like a combination of Cult of Luna and Dvne for the final two tracks, “Phantom Limb Amputee” and “In Bestia.” During the latter, Pete Colquhoun really gets to let loose with forceful and frenetic rhythms behind the kit. Don’t let the monochromatic album art fool you; Electric Sun Defence paints with a wide array of aural hues.

The dynamic composition is good, but when paired with an intuitive flow, the experience borders on transcendent. Each track fluidly transitions to the next, and the fact that none of them exceeds 8 minutes helps to keep Estuary from becoming stale. This is a rare instance of the shorter interlude tracks serving a larger purpose, albeit in a subtle way. “Spiderweb” is pretty enough that I can look past its bothersome soundbites, and “Dysmorph” functions as a reprieve while setting the stage for the raging “Phantom Limb Amputee” that follows. The grouping of these tracks with the shoegaze elements in “Choke Leper” causes the momentum to sag a little, but not terribly so. Another minor weak point is that the vocals—especially the cleans—can sound muffled, but the strength of the instruments helps compensate.

Though I entered Estuary with no expectations, it turned out to be exactly what I was looking for at the time. It keeps the listener guessing from moment to moment with the continual assurance that they’ll love whatever comes next. Electric Sun Defence shows their versatility by wielding both emotive melody and crushing ferocity. Albums like this make me pause and appreciate the privilege we have to conveniently access great music from all over the world. Electric Sun Defence might be the best metal group in Eigg by default, but they can give others in larger regions a serious run for their money too.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Road To Masochist
Websites: electricsundefence.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/people/Electric-Sun-Defence
Releases Worldwide: May 8th, 2026

Cnoc An Tursa – A Cry for the Slain Review

For years, Scottish outfit Cnoc An Tursa lurked along the periphery of my awareness. I liked the few…
#NewsBeep #News #US #USA #UnitedStates #UnitedStatesOfAmerica #Music #2026 #3.5 #ACryfortheSlain #ApocalypticWitchcraftRecordings #Apr26 #BlackCrossHotel #BlackMetal #CnocAnTursa #Entertainment #Finntroll #FolkMetal #Hellripper #IronMaiden #Otyg #review #reviews #ScottishMetal #Turisas
https://www.newsbeep.com/us/604183/

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For years, Scottish outfit Cnoc An Tursa lurked along the periphery of my awareness. I liked the few songs I’d heard, and I frequently saw them referenced while exploring similar artists. Yet their lack of output kept me at a distance; as I expanded my taste for folk metal, I didn’t want to fall in love with a band that had little to no appetite to get in the studio.1 For Cnoc An Tursa, you can lay aside your concerns, because they’re back after a nine-year wait to unveil third full-length A Cry for the Slain. This new opus perpetuates what Cnoc An Tursa has been doing since the band formed twenty years ago—writing blackened folk bangers fraught with grace, passion, and depth. After a prolonged absence, though, it becomes more and more difficult to bounce back if expectations outpace reality’s limitations. So, given the intervening years, does A Cry for the Slain elicit tears of joy or sorrow?

On A Cry for the Slain, Cnoc An Tursa draws upon the soundscapes of both their prior albums to hatch an experience that exists somewhere between them. Debut The Giants of Auld introduced the world to Cnoc An Tursa‘s distinctive Highland hijinx, melding rousing orchestrations with meloblack might. Of their two previous albums, A Cry for the Slain shares more in common with The Giants of Auld, harkening to the debut’s more direct songwriting than The Forty Five’s melancholic, key-drenched atmospheres. The Forty Five’s solemnity persists on A Cry for the Slain, but its application rings bittersweet as triumphant melodies dance between wistful choirs and forlorn evocations. While all three albums sound unmistakably like them, their latest takes earlier victories and forges them together into Cnoc An Tursa’s best album to date.

Throughout A Cry for the Slain, Cnoc An Tursa fuses ethereal majesty with blackened stylings and traditional melodies to create a gorgeous folk metal tapestry. The band’s allure lies with their finesse as they conjure captivating and earnest music, and the more I spin A Cry for the Slain, the more I appreciate its stark and stunning beauty. Crashing waves and reverb-laden guitars set the tone within the first track, “Na for Ghorma.” The mournful female vocals crescendo into an inevitable trudge that releases into furious trems and grating rasps on follow-up “The Caoineag.” Cnoc An Tursa consistently pits black metal acerbity against contemplative sorrow, deftly wending between complex atmospheres and emotions. This is perhaps best demonstrated on tracks “Baobhan Sith”2 and “Alba in My Heart,” where Cnoc An Tursa expertly controls song dynamics and tension with peaks and valleys in volume and pathos. Also, I’d be remiss not to mention my favorite track “Am Fear Liath Mòr,” which boasts an otherworldly quality and dextrous melodic leads that simultaneously remind me of “Love Will Tear Us Apart,” Iron Maiden, and Black Cross Hotel, yet still undeniably sounds like Cnoc An Tursa.

Despite succeeding on so many fronts, A Cry for the Slain flounders on penultimate track “Address to the Devil.” To be fair, it mostly falls victim to the heights of the preceding tracks, which all possess strong identities and exemplary writing. Comparatively, “Address to the Devil” stands out as missing the same soul. It starts promisingly enough, with frenzied tremolos lashing against scathing vocals, but from there the pace decelerates to a deliberate march. Soon enough, the song strips back to a twinkling synth and fabulous bass noodling, providing a solid core that ultimately lacks purpose or a melodic through-line to bring everything together.3 Besides “Address to the Devil,” I have no material complaints. The production and mix are smart and balanced, the forty-four-minute runtime is just right, and A Cry for the Slain’s replayability is relentless.

Cnoc An Tursa breaks their nine-year silence with a bang, and fans of their work should be pleased with A Cry for the Slain. As a newer convert, I’m disappointed I didn’t make the time to discover them earlier, but visiting their prior albums along with the new one has brought me immense, befolkened joy. I hope we don’t have to wait as long for their next outing, but until then, I’m content listening to A Cry for the Slain, knowing that time hasn’t dulled their ability to Cnoc one out of the park.

Rating: Very Good!
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Apocalyptic Witchcraft Recordings
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: April 24th, 2026

For years, Scottish outfit Cnoc An Tursa lurked along the periphery of my awareness. I liked the few songs I’d heard, and I frequently saw them referenced while exploring similar artists. Yet their lack of output kept me at a distance; as I expanded my taste for folk metal, I didn’t want to fall in love with a band that had little to no appetite to get in the studio.1 For Cnoc An Tursa, you can lay aside your concerns, because they’re back after a nine-year wait to unveil third full-length A Cry for the Slain. This new opus perpetuates what Cnoc An Tursa has been doing since the band formed twenty years ago—writing blackened folk bangers fraught with grace, passion, and depth. After a prolonged absence, though, it becomes more and more difficult to bounce back if expectations outpace reality’s limitations. So, given the intervening years, does A Cry for the Slain elicit tears of joy or sorrow?

On A Cry for the Slain, Cnoc An Tursa draws upon the soundscapes of both their prior albums to hatch an experience that exists somewhere between them. Debut The Giants of Auld introduced the world to Cnoc An Tursa‘s distinctive Highland hijinx, melding rousing orchestrations with meloblack might. Of their two previous albums, A Cry for the Slain shares more in common with The Giants of Auld, harkening to the debut’s more direct songwriting than The Forty Five’s melancholic, key-drenched atmospheres. The Forty Five’s solemnity persists on A Cry for the Slain, but its application rings bittersweet as triumphant melodies dance between wistful choirs and forlorn evocations. While all three albums sound unmistakably like them, their latest takes earlier victories and forges them together into Cnoc An Tursa’s best album to date.

Throughout A Cry for the Slain, Cnoc An Tursa fuses ethereal majesty with blackened stylings and traditional melodies to create a gorgeous folk metal tapestry. The band’s allure lies with their finesse as they conjure captivating and earnest music, and the more I spin A Cry for the Slain, the more I appreciate its stark and stunning beauty. Crashing waves and reverb-laden guitars set the tone within the first track, “Na for Ghorma.” The mournful female vocals crescendo into an inevitable trudge that releases into furious trems and grating rasps on follow-up “The Caoineag.” Cnoc An Tursa consistently pits black metal acerbity against contemplative sorrow, deftly wending between complex atmospheres and emotions. This is perhaps best demonstrated on tracks “Baobhan Sith”2 and “Alba in My Heart,” where Cnoc An Tursa expertly controls song dynamics and tension with peaks and valleys in volume and pathos. Also, I’d be remiss not to mention my favorite track “Am Fear Liath Mòr,” which boasts an otherworldly quality and dextrous melodic leads that simultaneously remind me of “Love Will Tear Us Apart,” Iron Maiden, and Black Cross Hotel, yet still undeniably sounds like Cnoc An Tursa.

Despite succeeding on so many fronts, A Cry for the Slain flounders on penultimate track “Address to the Devil.” To be fair, it mostly falls victim to the heights of the preceding tracks, which all possess strong identities and exemplary writing. Comparatively, “Address to the Devil” stands out as missing the same soul. It starts promisingly enough, with frenzied tremolos lashing against scathing vocals, but from there the pace decelerates to a deliberate march. Soon enough, the song strips back to a twinkling synth and fabulous bass noodling, providing a solid core that ultimately lacks purpose or a melodic through-line to bring everything together.3 Besides “Address to the Devil,” I have no material complaints. The production and mix are smart and balanced, the forty-four-minute runtime is just right, and A Cry for the Slain’s replayability is relentless.

Cnoc An Tursa breaks their nine-year silence with a bang, and fans of their work should be pleased with A Cry for the Slain. As a newer convert, I’m disappointed I didn’t make the time to discover them earlier, but visiting their prior albums along with the new one has brought me immense, befolkened joy. I hope we don’t have to wait as long for their next outing, but until then, I’m content listening to A Cry for the Slain, knowing that time hasn’t dulled their ability to Cnoc one out of the park.

Rating: Very Good!
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Apocalyptic Witchcraft Recordings
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: April 24th, 2026

For years, Scottish outfit Cnoc An Tursa lurked along the periphery of my awareness. I liked the few songs I’d heard, and I frequently saw them referenced while exploring similar artists. Yet their lack of output kept me at a distance; as I expanded my taste for folk metal, I didn’t want to fall in love with a band that had little to no appetite to get in the studio.1 For Cnoc An Tursa, you can lay aside your concerns, because they’re back after a nine-year wait to unveil third full-length A Cry for the Slain. This new opus perpetuates what Cnoc An Tursa has been doing since the band formed twenty years ago—writing blackened folk bangers fraught with grace, passion, and depth. After a prolonged absence, though, it becomes more and more difficult to bounce back if expectations outpace reality’s limitations. So, given the intervening years, does A Cry for the Slain elicit tears of joy or sorrow?

On A Cry for the Slain, Cnoc An Tursa draws upon the soundscapes of both their prior albums to hatch an experience that exists somewhere between them. Debut The Giants of Auld introduced the world to Cnoc An Tursa‘s distinctive Highland hijinx, melding rousing orchestrations with meloblack might. Of their two previous albums, A Cry for the Slain shares more in common with The Giants of Auld, harkening to the debut’s more direct songwriting than The Forty Five’s melancholic, key-drenched atmospheres. The Forty Five’s solemnity persists on A Cry for the Slain, but its application rings bittersweet as triumphant melodies dance between wistful choirs and forlorn evocations. While all three albums sound unmistakably like them, their latest takes earlier victories and forges them together into Cnoc An Tursa’s best album to date.

Throughout A Cry for the Slain, Cnoc An Tursa fuses ethereal majesty with blackened stylings and traditional melodies to create a gorgeous folk metal tapestry. The band’s allure lies with their finesse as they conjure captivating and earnest music, and the more I spin A Cry for the Slain, the more I appreciate its stark and stunning beauty. Crashing waves and reverb-laden guitars set the tone within the first track, “Na for Ghorma.” The mournful female vocals crescendo into an inevitable trudge that releases into furious trems and grating rasps on follow-up “The Caoineag.” Cnoc An Tursa consistently pits black metal acerbity against contemplative sorrow, deftly wending between complex atmospheres and emotions. This is perhaps best demonstrated on tracks “Baobhan Sith”2 and “Alba in My Heart,” where Cnoc An Tursa expertly controls song dynamics and tension with peaks and valleys in volume and pathos. Also, I’d be remiss not to mention my favorite track “Am Fear Liath Mòr,” which boasts an otherworldly quality and dextrous melodic leads that simultaneously remind me of “Love Will Tear Us Apart,” Iron Maiden, and Black Cross Hotel, yet still undeniably sounds like Cnoc An Tursa.

Despite succeeding on so many fronts, A Cry for the Slain flounders on penultimate track “Address to the Devil.” To be fair, it mostly falls victim to the heights of the preceding tracks, which all possess strong identities and exemplary writing. Comparatively, “Address to the Devil” stands out as missing the same soul. It starts promisingly enough, with frenzied tremolos lashing against scathing vocals, but from there the pace decelerates to a deliberate march. Soon enough, the song strips back to a twinkling synth and fabulous bass noodling, providing a solid core that ultimately lacks purpose or a melodic through-line to bring everything together.3 Besides “Address to the Devil,” I have no material complaints. The production and mix are smart and balanced, the forty-four-minute runtime is just right, and A Cry for the Slain’s replayability is relentless.

Cnoc An Tursa breaks their nine-year silence with a bang, and fans of their work should be pleased with A Cry for the Slain. As a newer convert, I’m disappointed I didn’t make the time to discover them earlier, but visiting their prior albums along with the new one has brought me immense, befolkened joy. I hope we don’t have to wait as long for their next outing, but until then, I’m content listening to A Cry for the Slain, knowing that time hasn’t dulled their ability to Cnoc one out of the park.

Rating: Very Good!
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Apocalyptic Witchcraft Recordings
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: April 24th, 2026

For years, Scottish outfit Cnoc An Tursa lurked along the periphery of my awareness. I liked the few songs I’d heard, and I frequently saw them referenced while exploring similar artists. Yet their lack of output kept me at a distance; as I expanded my taste for folk metal, I didn’t want to fall in love with a band that had little to no appetite to get in the studio.1 For Cnoc An Tursa, you can lay aside your concerns, because they’re back after a nine-year wait to unveil third full-length A Cry for the Slain. This new opus perpetuates what Cnoc An Tursa has been doing since the band formed twenty years ago—writing blackened folk bangers fraught with grace, passion, and depth. After a prolonged absence, though, it becomes more and more difficult to bounce back if expectations outpace reality’s limitations. So, given the intervening years, does A Cry for the Slain elicit tears of joy or sorrow?

On A Cry for the Slain, Cnoc An Tursa draws upon the soundscapes of both their prior albums to hatch an experience that exists somewhere between them. Debut The Giants of Auld introduced the world to Cnoc An Tursa‘s distinctive Highland hijinx, melding rousing orchestrations with meloblack might. Of their two previous albums, A Cry for the Slain shares more in common with The Giants of Auld, harkening to the debut’s more direct songwriting than The Forty Five’s melancholic, key-drenched atmospheres. The Forty Five’s solemnity persists on A Cry for the Slain, but its application rings bittersweet as triumphant melodies dance between wistful choirs and forlorn evocations. While all three albums sound unmistakably like them, their latest takes earlier victories and forges them together into Cnoc An Tursa’s best album to date.

Throughout A Cry for the Slain, Cnoc An Tursa fuses ethereal majesty with blackened stylings and traditional melodies to create a gorgeous folk metal tapestry. The band’s allure lies with their finesse as they conjure captivating and earnest music, and the more I spin A Cry for the Slain, the more I appreciate its stark and stunning beauty. Crashing waves and reverb-laden guitars set the tone within the first track, “Na for Ghorma.” The mournful female vocals crescendo into an inevitable trudge that releases into furious trems and grating rasps on follow-up “The Caoineag.” Cnoc An Tursa consistently pits black metal acerbity against contemplative sorrow, deftly wending between complex atmospheres and emotions. This is perhaps best demonstrated on tracks “Baobhan Sith”2 and “Alba in My Heart,” where Cnoc An Tursa expertly controls song dynamics and tension with peaks and valleys in volume and pathos. Also, I’d be remiss not to mention my favorite track “Am Fear Liath Mòr,” which boasts an otherworldly quality and dextrous melodic leads that simultaneously remind me of “Love Will Tear Us Apart,” Iron Maiden, and Black Cross Hotel, yet still undeniably sounds like Cnoc An Tursa.

Despite succeeding on so many fronts, A Cry for the Slain flounders on penultimate track “Address to the Devil.” To be fair, it mostly falls victim to the heights of the preceding tracks, which all possess strong identities and exemplary writing. Comparatively, “Address to the Devil” stands out as missing the same soul. It starts promisingly enough, with frenzied tremolos lashing against scathing vocals, but from there the pace decelerates to a deliberate march. Soon enough, the song strips back to a twinkling synth and fabulous bass noodling, providing a solid core that ultimately lacks purpose or a melodic through-line to bring everything together.3 Besides “Address to the Devil,” I have no material complaints. The production and mix are smart and balanced, the forty-four-minute runtime is just right, and A Cry for the Slain’s replayability is relentless.

Cnoc An Tursa breaks their nine-year silence with a bang, and fans of their work should be pleased with A Cry for the Slain. As a newer convert, I’m disappointed I didn’t make the time to discover them earlier, but visiting their prior albums along with the new one has brought me immense, befolkened joy. I hope we don’t have to wait as long for their next outing, but until then, I’m content listening to A Cry for the Slain, knowing that time hasn’t dulled their ability to Cnoc one out of the park.

Rating: Very Good!
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Apocalyptic Witchcraft Recordings
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: April 24th, 2026

Tired? Irritable? Prone to bouts of melancholy that leave you feeling listless and unfocused, particularly as the weather changes? It could be seasonal affective disorder, but these symptoms can also typify a diet deficient in vitamin R(iff). If it’s the latter, Hellripper’s Coronach practically hemorrhages the cure for what ails you, parading pulse-pounding riffs, blistering solos, and enthralling grooves with palliative nonchalance. Unleashing Hellripper’s fourth album in under a decade, architect and sole member James McBain maintains a tried-and-true release schedule and, more importantly, a steady evolution of sophisticated songwriting that’s as compelling as it is emboldening. I won’t mince words—Coronach is an undeniable corker and succeeds as Hellripper’s greatest triumph to date. So run down to your local or digital dealer and grab some Coronach posthaste!

Expanding on the achievements of Hellripper’s previous albums, Coronach harnesses the charm of earlier releases and injects them with a lethal dose of vitality. Back in 2017, debut Coagulating Darkness bled its influences on its sleeve, from riffs dripping with warp-speed Venom to the guitar lead from “Bastard of Hades” pulled straight from Metallica’s “Hit the Lights.” The Affair of the Poisons shaped Hellripper’s identity with flurries of licks that, while still laced with influences, exuded a welcome dimension of originality. Three years ago, Warlocks Grim & Withered Hags’ introduced knotted, longer-form compositions that pushed out the runtime while augmenting Hellripper’s arsenal of aural ammunition. With Coronach, Hellripper strikes a balance between the lengthier arrangements of Warlocks and the breakneck blackened bangers of yore, amplified by stellar performances throughout.

Coronach (24-bit HD audio) by Hellripper

Coronach overflows with electrifying instrumentation, and while McBain supplies most of Hellripper’s sonic ingredients, a few guests further enrich its proceedings. Searing leads and scorching solos set Coronach’s eight tracks aflame, boasting some of the hookiest guitar-playing I’ve heard this year. “Hunderprest” and “Blakk Satanik Fvkkstorm” crackle with flashy fretwork, buoyed by longtime six-string contributor Joseph Quinlan (Desert Heretic). Similarly, “Kinchyle (Goatkraft and Granite)” rumbles with snappy Motörheadstrong riffs before an acoustic guitar cuts in to transition the song into slinky grooves and heavy half-times. After some interplay, the pace ramps back up to close out on the intro riff. Hellripper has never lacked for earworms, yet Coronach unveils a mature understanding of dynamic songwriting that endows depth and complexity while never sounding forced or unnatural. Besides Quinlan, Jess Townsend contributes violin on “Baobhan Sith (Waltz of the Damned),” while singer Marianne returns to lend her vocals on a few tracks and Antonio Rodriguez reprises the bagpipes on closer “Coronach.” Vacuous’s Max Southall even bestows some percussive flair on “Mortercheyn.” Between himself and the talented musicians he’s assembled, it’s clear that while McBain is comfortable with his supporting cast, he’s determined not to put out the same album twice.

What impresses me most with Coronach is that McBain manages to broaden Hellripper’s auditory palette without ever losing the band’s core identity. “Hunderprest” and “Coronach” brim with the band’s trademark rippin’ riffs, yet the solos recall southern rock shredding à la Lynyrd Skynyrd or The Outlaws played at one-and-a-half speed. “Sculptor’s Cave,” meanwhile, channels what El Cuervo affectionately dubbed ‘Motörhead on cocaine’ energy during its “Rock ‘n’ Roll”-informed solo. A pervasive punk attitude also shimmers beneath the surface of Coronach, where the unadorned guitar refrains from “Kinchyle (Goatkraft and Granite),” “Sculptor’s Cave,” and “Mortercheyn” evoke more technical versions of Bad Religion and The Offspring. Tying it all together and allowing the myriad influences to coalesce, the mix ensures this is the best Hellripper has sounded, retaining their raw edge while dialing back the ‘everything louder than everything else’ approach that afflicted past albums—The Affair of the Poisons in particular.

Doubtlessly, Hellripper has dropped their finest release so far with Coronach, though a few small adjustments could have boosted it to undisputed excellence. “Baobhan Sith (Waltz of the Damned)” runs a tad too long, and although I like “Mortercheyn,” it doesn’t quite live up to the heights of the other tracks. Even so, I unapologetically return to Coronach again and again with no signs of slowing down. Just remember—Coronach must be taken while driving or operating heavy machinery. If lethargy creeps in or your mouth runs dry from a chronic deficit of Vitamin R, just take one to two doses of Coronach (by ear) and wait for Hellripper’s restorative fix to kick in.1

Rating: Great!!
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Century Media Records
Websites: Website | Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: March 27th, 2026

Tired? Irritable? Prone to bouts of melancholy that leave you feeling listless and unfocused, particularly as the weather changes? It could be seasonal affective disorder, but these symptoms can also typify a diet deficient in vitamin R(iff). If it’s the latter, Hellripper’s Coronach practically hemorrhages the cure for what ails you, parading pulse-pounding riffs, blistering solos, and enthralling grooves with palliative nonchalance. Unleashing Hellripper’s fourth album in under a decade, architect and sole member James McBain maintains a tried-and-true release schedule and, more importantly, a steady evolution of sophisticated songwriting that’s as compelling as it is emboldening. I won’t mince words—Coronach is an undeniable corker and succeeds as Hellripper’s greatest triumph to date. So run down to your local or digital dealer and grab some Coronach posthaste!

Expanding on the achievements of Hellripper’s previous albums, Coronach harnesses the charm of earlier releases and injects them with a lethal dose of vitality. Back in 2017, debut Coagulating Darkness bled its influences on its sleeve, from riffs dripping with warp-speed Venom to the guitar lead from “Bastard of Hades” pulled straight from Metallica’s “Hit the Lights.” The Affair of the Poisons shaped Hellripper’s identity with flurries of licks that, while still laced with influences, exuded a welcome dimension of originality. Three years ago, Warlocks Grim & Withered Hags’ introduced knotted, longer-form compositions that pushed out the runtime while augmenting Hellripper’s arsenal of aural ammunition. With Coronach, Hellripper strikes a balance between the lengthier arrangements of Warlocks and the breakneck blackened bangers of yore, amplified by stellar performances throughout.

Coronach (24-bit HD audio) by Hellripper

Coronach overflows with electrifying instrumentation, and while McBain supplies most of Hellripper’s sonic ingredients, a few guests further enrich its proceedings. Searing leads and scorching solos set Coronach’s eight tracks aflame, boasting some of the hookiest guitar-playing I’ve heard this year. “Hunderprest” and “Blakk Satanik Fvkkstorm” crackle with flashy fretwork, buoyed by longtime six-string contributor Joseph Quinlan (Desert Heretic). Similarly, “Kinchyle (Goatkraft and Granite)” rumbles with snappy Motörheadstrong riffs before an acoustic guitar cuts in to transition the song into slinky grooves and heavy half-times. After some interplay, the pace ramps back up to close out on the intro riff. Hellripper has never lacked for earworms, yet Coronach unveils a mature understanding of dynamic songwriting that endows depth and complexity while never sounding forced or unnatural. Besides Quinlan, Jess Townsend contributes violin on “Baobhan Sith (Waltz of the Damned),” while singer Marianne returns to lend her vocals on a few tracks and Antonio Rodriguez reprises the bagpipes on closer “Coronach.” Vacuous’s Max Southall even bestows some percussive flair on “Mortercheyn.” Between himself and the talented musicians he’s assembled, it’s clear that while McBain is comfortable with his supporting cast, he’s determined not to put out the same album twice.

What impresses me most with Coronach is that McBain manages to broaden Hellripper’s auditory palette without ever losing the band’s core identity. “Hunderprest” and “Coronach” brim with the band’s trademark rippin’ riffs, yet the solos recall southern rock shredding à la Lynyrd Skynyrd or The Outlaws played at one-and-a-half speed. “Sculptor’s Cave,” meanwhile, channels what El Cuervo affectionately dubbed ‘Motörhead on cocaine’ energy during its “Rock ‘n’ Roll”-informed solo. A pervasive punk attitude also shimmers beneath the surface of Coronach, where the unadorned guitar refrains from “Kinchyle (Goatkraft and Granite),” “Sculptor’s Cave,” and “Mortercheyn” evoke more technical versions of Bad Religion and The Offspring. Tying it all together and allowing the myriad influences to coalesce, the mix ensures this is the best Hellripper has sounded, retaining their raw edge while dialing back the ‘everything louder than everything else’ approach that afflicted past albums—The Affair of the Poisons in particular.

Doubtlessly, Hellripper has dropped their finest release so far with Coronach, though a few small adjustments could have boosted it to undisputed excellence. “Baobhan Sith (Waltz of the Damned)” runs a tad too long, and although I like “Mortercheyn,” it doesn’t quite live up to the heights of the other tracks. Even so, I unapologetically return to Coronach again and again with no signs of slowing down. Just remember—Coronach must be taken while driving or operating heavy machinery. If lethargy creeps in or your mouth runs dry from a chronic deficit of Vitamin R, just take one to two doses of Coronach (by ear) and wait for Hellripper’s restorative fix to kick in.1

Rating: Great!!
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Century Media Records
Websites: Website | Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: March 27th, 2026

Tired? Irritable? Prone to bouts of melancholy that leave you feeling listless and unfocused, particularly as the weather changes? It could be seasonal affective disorder, but these symptoms can also typify a diet deficient in vitamin R(iff). If it’s the latter, Hellripper’s Coronach practically hemorrhages the cure for what ails you, parading pulse-pounding riffs, blistering solos, and enthralling grooves with palliative nonchalance. Unleashing Hellripper’s fourth album in under a decade, architect and sole member James McBain maintains a tried-and-true release schedule and, more importantly, a steady evolution of sophisticated songwriting that’s as compelling as it is emboldening. I won’t mince words—Coronach is an undeniable corker and succeeds as Hellripper’s greatest triumph to date. So run down to your local or digital dealer and grab some Coronach posthaste!

Expanding on the achievements of Hellripper’s previous albums, Coronach harnesses the charm of earlier releases and injects them with a lethal dose of vitality. Back in 2017, debut Coagulating Darkness bled its influences on its sleeve, from riffs dripping with warp-speed Venom to the guitar lead from “Bastard of Hades” pulled straight from Metallica’s “Hit the Lights.” The Affair of the Poisons shaped Hellripper’s identity with flurries of licks that, while still laced with influences, exuded a welcome dimension of originality. Three years ago, Warlocks Grim & Withered Hags’ introduced knotted, longer-form compositions that pushed out the runtime while augmenting Hellripper’s arsenal of aural ammunition. With Coronach, Hellripper strikes a balance between the lengthier arrangements of Warlocks and the breakneck blackened bangers of yore, amplified by stellar performances throughout.

Coronach (24-bit HD audio) by Hellripper

Coronach overflows with electrifying instrumentation, and while McBain supplies most of Hellripper’s sonic ingredients, a few guests further enrich its proceedings. Searing leads and scorching solos set Coronach’s eight tracks aflame, boasting some of the hookiest guitar-playing I’ve heard this year. “Hunderprest” and “Blakk Satanik Fvkkstorm” crackle with flashy fretwork, buoyed by longtime six-string contributor Joseph Quinlan (Desert Heretic). Similarly, “Kinchyle (Goatkraft and Granite)” rumbles with snappy Motörheadstrong riffs before an acoustic guitar cuts in to transition the song into slinky grooves and heavy half-times. After some interplay, the pace ramps back up to close out on the intro riff. Hellripper has never lacked for earworms, yet Coronach unveils a mature understanding of dynamic songwriting that endows depth and complexity while never sounding forced or unnatural. Besides Quinlan, Jess Townsend contributes violin on “Baobhan Sith (Waltz of the Damned),” while singer Marianne returns to lend her vocals on a few tracks and Antonio Rodriguez reprises the bagpipes on closer “Coronach.” Vacuous’s Max Southall even bestows some percussive flair on “Mortercheyn.” Between himself and the talented musicians he’s assembled, it’s clear that while McBain is comfortable with his supporting cast, he’s determined not to put out the same album twice.

What impresses me most with Coronach is that McBain manages to broaden Hellripper’s auditory palette without ever losing the band’s core identity. “Hunderprest” and “Coronach” brim with the band’s trademark rippin’ riffs, yet the solos recall southern rock shredding à la Lynyrd Skynyrd or The Outlaws played at one-and-a-half speed. “Sculptor’s Cave,” meanwhile, channels what El Cuervo affectionately dubbed ‘Motörhead on cocaine’ energy during its “Rock ‘n’ Roll”-informed solo. A pervasive punk attitude also shimmers beneath the surface of Coronach, where the unadorned guitar refrains from “Kinchyle (Goatkraft and Granite),” “Sculptor’s Cave,” and “Mortercheyn” evoke more technical versions of Bad Religion and The Offspring. Tying it all together and allowing the myriad influences to coalesce, the mix ensures this is the best Hellripper has sounded, retaining their raw edge while dialing back the ‘everything louder than everything else’ approach that afflicted past albums—The Affair of the Poisons in particular.

Doubtlessly, Hellripper has dropped their finest release so far with Coronach, though a few small adjustments could have boosted it to undisputed excellence. “Baobhan Sith (Waltz of the Damned)” runs a tad too long, and although I like “Mortercheyn,” it doesn’t quite live up to the heights of the other tracks. Even so, I unapologetically return to Coronach again and again with no signs of slowing down. Just remember—Coronach must be taken while driving or operating heavy machinery. If lethargy creeps in or your mouth runs dry from a chronic deficit of Vitamin R, just take one to two doses of Coronach (by ear) and wait for Hellripper’s restorative fix to kick in.1

Rating: Great!!
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Century Media Records
Websites: Website | Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: March 27th, 2026

Tired? Irritable? Prone to bouts of melancholy that leave you feeling listless and unfocused, particularly as the weather changes? It could be seasonal affective disorder, but these symptoms can also typify a diet deficient in vitamin R(iff). If it’s the latter, Hellripper’s Coronach practically hemorrhages the cure for what ails you, parading pulse-pounding riffs, blistering solos, and enthralling grooves with palliative nonchalance. Unleashing Hellripper’s fourth album in under a decade, architect and sole member James McBain maintains a tried-and-true release schedule and, more importantly, a steady evolution of sophisticated songwriting that’s as compelling as it is emboldening. I won’t mince words—Coronach is an undeniable corker and succeeds as Hellripper’s greatest triumph to date. So run down to your local or digital dealer and grab some Coronach posthaste!

Expanding on the achievements of Hellripper’s previous albums, Coronach harnesses the charm of earlier releases and injects them with a lethal dose of vitality. Back in 2017, debut Coagulating Darkness bled its influences on its sleeve, from riffs dripping with warp-speed Venom to the guitar lead from “Bastard of Hades” pulled straight from Metallica’s “Hit the Lights.” The Affair of the Poisons shaped Hellripper’s identity with flurries of licks that, while still laced with influences, exuded a welcome dimension of originality. Three years ago, Warlocks Grim & Withered Hags’ introduced knotted, longer-form compositions that pushed out the runtime while augmenting Hellripper’s arsenal of aural ammunition. With Coronach, Hellripper strikes a balance between the lengthier arrangements of Warlocks and the breakneck blackened bangers of yore, amplified by stellar performances throughout.

Coronach (24-bit HD audio) by Hellripper

Coronach overflows with electrifying instrumentation, and while McBain supplies most of Hellripper’s sonic ingredients, a few guests further enrich its proceedings. Searing leads and scorching solos set Coronach’s eight tracks aflame, boasting some of the hookiest guitar-playing I’ve heard this year. “Hunderprest” and “Blakk Satanik Fvkkstorm” crackle with flashy fretwork, buoyed by longtime six-string contributor Joseph Quinlan (Desert Heretic). Similarly, “Kinchyle (Goatkraft and Granite)” rumbles with snappy Motörheadstrong riffs before an acoustic guitar cuts in to transition the song into slinky grooves and heavy half-times. After some interplay, the pace ramps back up to close out on the intro riff. Hellripper has never lacked for earworms, yet Coronach unveils a mature understanding of dynamic songwriting that endows depth and complexity while never sounding forced or unnatural. Besides Quinlan, Jess Townsend contributes violin on “Baobhan Sith (Waltz of the Damned),” while singer Marianne returns to lend her vocals on a few tracks and Antonio Rodriguez reprises the bagpipes on closer “Coronach.” Vacuous’s Max Southall even bestows some percussive flair on “Mortercheyn.” Between himself and the talented musicians he’s assembled, it’s clear that while McBain is comfortable with his supporting cast, he’s determined not to put out the same album twice.

What impresses me most with Coronach is that McBain manages to broaden Hellripper’s auditory palette without ever losing the band’s core identity. “Hunderprest” and “Coronach” brim with the band’s trademark rippin’ riffs, yet the solos recall southern rock shredding à la Lynyrd Skynyrd or The Outlaws played at one-and-a-half speed. “Sculptor’s Cave,” meanwhile, channels what El Cuervo affectionately dubbed ‘Motörhead on cocaine’ energy during its “Rock ‘n’ Roll”-informed solo. A pervasive punk attitude also shimmers beneath the surface of Coronach, where the unadorned guitar refrains from “Kinchyle (Goatkraft and Granite),” “Sculptor’s Cave,” and “Mortercheyn” evoke more technical versions of Bad Religion and The Offspring. Tying it all together and allowing the myriad influences to coalesce, the mix ensures this is the best Hellripper has sounded, retaining their raw edge while dialing back the ‘everything louder than everything else’ approach that afflicted past albums—The Affair of the Poisons in particular.

Doubtlessly, Hellripper has dropped their finest release so far with Coronach, though a few small adjustments could have boosted it to undisputed excellence. “Baobhan Sith (Waltz of the Damned)” runs a tad too long, and although I like “Mortercheyn,” it doesn’t quite live up to the heights of the other tracks. Even so, I unapologetically return to Coronach again and again with no signs of slowing down. Just remember—Coronach must be taken while driving or operating heavy machinery. If lethargy creeps in or your mouth runs dry from a chronic deficit of Vitamin R, just take one to two doses of Coronach (by ear) and wait for Hellripper’s restorative fix to kick in.1

Rating: Great!!
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Century Media Records
Websites: Website | Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: March 27th, 2026

https://www.europesays.com/ie/387092/ Winter Eternal – Unveiled Nightsky Review #25 #2026 #ancient #BlackMetal #Dissection #Éire #Entertainment #Feb26 #GreekMetal #HellsHeadbangers #IE #Ireland #MelodicBlackMetal #Music #OldMan'sChild #Review #Reviews #ScottishMetal #Thulcandra #UnveiledNightsky #WinterEternal

Winter Eternal – Unveiled Nightsky Review

Less than two years removed from Winter Eternal’s last album, the Greek transplant (now based in Scotland) returns…
#NewsBeep #News #Music #2.5 #2026 #ancient #BlackMetal #Dissection #Entertainment #Feb26 #GreekMetal #HellsHeadbangers #MelodicBlackMetal #OldMan'sChild #review #Reviews #ScottishMetal #Thulcandra #UK #UnitedKingdom #UnveiledNightsky #WinterEternal
https://www.newsbeep.com/uk/477090/

https://www.europesays.com/uk/827566/ Winter Eternal – Unveiled Nightsky Review #25 #2026 #ancient #BlackMetal #Dissection #Entertainment #Feb26 #GreekMetal #HellsHeadbangers #MelodicBlackMetal #music #OldMan'sChild #Review #Reviews #ScottishMetal #Thulcandra #UK #UnitedKingdom #UnveiledNightsky #WinterEternal

If you need help getting going on a Monday morning, throw some fucking Hellripper on!

Their brand of blackened speed metal continues to evolve. New track "Hunderprest" is great, and I'm looking forward to the new album "Coronach", out in March.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yQpB78zs138

#BlackenedSpeedMetal #BlackenedThrashMetal #ScottishMetal #Metal #Music #Albumsof2026

For this week's #MusicWomenWednesday, something fairly brutal and excellent- Glasgow's UNMAKING and their debut EP 'Absolute Immiseration'. This is like, blackened sludge -- some VERY intense shit. Heavy as hell. Vocalist Kay Logan's voice is roaring and screeching.. I keep coming back to this one.

https://unmaking.bandcamp.com/album/absolute-immiseration

#sludge #metal #Glasgow #Scotland #UK #GlasgowBands #GlasgowMetal #ScottishBands #ScottishMetal

For this week's #MusicWomenWednesday, something fairly brutal and excellent- Glasgow's UNMAKING and their debut EP 'Absolute Immiseration'. This is like, blackened sludge -- some VERY intense shit. Heavy as hell. Vocalist Kay Logan's voice is roaring and screeching.. I keep coming back to this one.

https://unmaking.bandcamp.com/album/absolute-immiseration

#sludge #metal #Glasgow #Scotland #UK #GlasgowBands #GlasgowMetal #ScottishBands #ScottishMetal

For this week's #MusicWomenWednesday, something fairly brutal and excellent- Glasgow's UNMAKING and their debut EP 'Absolute Immiseration'. This is like, blackened sludge -- some VERY intense shit. Heavy as hell. Vocalist Kay Logan's voice is roaring and screeching.. I keep coming back to this one.

https://unmaking.bandcamp.com/album/absolute-immiseration

#sludge #metal #Glasgow #Scotland #UK #GlasgowBands #GlasgowMetal #ScottishBands #ScottishMetal

For this week's #MusicWomenWednesday, something fairly brutal and excellent- Glasgow's UNMAKING and their debut EP 'Absolute Immiseration'. This is like, blackened sludge -- some VERY intense shit. Heavy as hell. Vocalist Kay Logan's voice is roaring and screeching.. I keep coming back to this one.

https://unmaking.bandcamp.com/album/absolute-immiseration

#sludge #metal #Glasgow #Scotland #UK #GlasgowBands #GlasgowMetal #ScottishBands #ScottishMetal

https://www.europesays.com/uk/557496/ Mrs. Frighthouse – Solitude Over Control Review #2.5 #2025 #CouchSlut #Drone #Entertainment #industrial #JulieChristmas #Khanate #LaTortureDesTénèbres #LäjäÄijälä&AlbertWitchfinder #LinguaIgnota #Mrs.Frighthouse #music #noise #Oscillotron #Review #Reviews #ScottishMetal #SelfRelease #Sep25 #SolitudeOverControl #Theatruum #UK #Ulveblod #UnitedKingdom

Mrs. Frighthouse – Solitude Over Control Review

By Dear Hollow

How much noise is too much? I used to believe you could never have too much noise, with bands like Theatruum and La Torture des Ténèbres weaponizing it for respectively vicious and otherworldly approaches. Then bands like Ulveblod and the infamous Ordeal & Triumph collaboration happened – and I lost my naivety. Ultimately, as we will see with duo Mrs. Frighthouse, diving into the noise genre offers a low ceiling and an equally low floor. Some of the worst music I’ve reviewed has had the “noise” tag attached to it, while some of the most okayest music I’ve reviewed also has noise attached to it – previously mentioned acts being controversial exceptions. It’s either the worst thing you’ve heard or okay. Mrs. Frighthouse is a light, er, fright in a sea of noise – for better or worse.

Glasgow-based Mrs. Frighthouse consists of wife and wife duo Carys and Luna Frighthouse, known as Mrs. and Mrs. on stage. Featuring an unflinching lyrical attack on misogyny, homophobia, and transphobia, and a musical approach as venomous, it recalls the likes of early Lingua Ignota, Couch Slut, and Julie Christmas. What hooked me was its mastering by Khanate bassist James Plotkin – anything that reminds of the menacing crawl that the drone legends conjure was a perk. However, like any noise album that focuses on ugliness and discordance, the audience is limited, the replay value is near null, and its strengths are a novelty in many ways. Featuring manic vocals both harsh and operatic to contrast with the suffocating noise, Mrs. Frighthouse wins points for charisma, but Solitude Over Control is still very much a noise album.

To my relief, Mrs. Frighthouse utilizes opaqueness and density to its benefit, avoiding the painful awkwardness of Läjä Äijälä & Albert Witchfinder’s trainwreck of a collaboration. Plotkin’s services are put to good use, as the backbone of sound is suffocating and all-encompassing in a way that recalls drone’s colossal density, an expanse of ominous tones upon which Mrs. and Mrs. traverse with their vocal journeys. Throw in some haunting ritualistic drumming patterns and minor organ trills, Mrs. Frighthouse crafts horrific soundscapes using an expert blend of clarity, melody, and discordance to match their surprisingly dynamic foray into noise. This is no Oscillotron – Mrs. Frighthouse knows how to write songs. While at first glance the sea of noise is a constant hum, those willing to delve beneath the surface will find smart songwriting aplenty.

The contrast between clarity and density is a clear priority in Solitude Over Control – which ends up being its most controversial element. From the aggressive industrial pulse paired with thick waves of noise easy to get lost in (“DIY Exorcism,” “White Plaster Rooms”) to more subtle crawling pieces with screeching soprano trills that feel strangely confrontational (“Seagulls” part 1 and 2, “Let My Spit Be Poison”), while creeping melodic motifs are warped and bastardized by the static (“Our Culture Without Autonomy,” “My Body is a Crime Scene”), Mrs. Frighthouse is a tour-de-force of metallic aggression without a riff in sight. Solitude Over Control wears its themes on its sleeves in sometimes awkward forthrightness, as both Mrs.’s spew vitriol over the misogyny, homophobia, and transphobia witnessed and experienced, matching the aggression and viciousness of the music. The closing title track is worthy of mention, because its slow-burning crescendo is a maddening and horrifying end to a maddening and horrifying album – a nerve-frying culmination of Mrs. Frighthouse’s best and worst.

Almost everything about Solitude Over Control feels intentional, but holy shit, is it unflinching and uncomfortable. Mrs. Frighthouse’s two vocals are insanely charismatic in their blend of shrieks, growls, operatic belts, whispers, and shouts, propelling the movement of the noise as it emerges and disappears in the sea of noise. Plotkin’s mastering adds a suffocating and claustrophobic quality that adds to the menace and aggression. Some tracks you’ll find yourself getting lost in the swaths of noise and industrial harshness, others you’ll find yourself blushing in the awkward stark clarity of the vocals. Mrs. Frighthouse offers a better noise album than most and is closer to the ceiling, but due to the divisiveness of the style and the starkness of some of the minimalist pieces, the reception will be mixed. Noise fans rejoice, all others steer clear.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: PCM
Label: Self-Release
Websites: mrsfrighthouse.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/mrsfrighthouse
Releases Worldwide: September 26th, 2025

#25 #2025 #CouchSlut #Drone #Industrial #JulieChristmas #Khanate #LaTortureDesTénèbres #LäjäÄijäläAlbertWitchfinder #LinguaIgnota #MrsFrighthouse #Noise #Oscillotron #Review #Reviews #ScottishMetal #SelfRelease #Sep25 #SolitudeOverControl #Theatruum #Ulveblod

Mrs. Frighthouse – Solitude Over Control Review

By Dear Hollow

How much noise is too much? I used to believe you could never have too much noise, with bands like Theatruum and La Torture des Ténèbres weaponizing it for respectively vicious and otherworldly approaches. Then bands like Ulveblod and the infamous Ordeal & Triumph collaboration happened – and I lost my naivety. Ultimately, as we will see with duo Mrs. Frighthouse, diving into the noise genre offers a low ceiling and an equally low floor. Some of the worst music I’ve reviewed has had the “noise” tag attached to it, while some of the most okayest music I’ve reviewed also has noise attached to it – previously mentioned acts being controversial exceptions. It’s either the worst thing you’ve heard or okay. Mrs. Frighthouse is a light, er, fright in a sea of noise – for better or worse.

Glasgow-based Mrs. Frighthouse consists of wife and wife duo Carys and Luna Frighthouse, known as Mrs. and Mrs. on stage. Featuring an unflinching lyrical attack on misogyny, homophobia, and transphobia, and a musical approach as venomous, it recalls the likes of early Lingua Ignota, Couch Slut, and Julie Christmas. What hooked me was its mastering by Khanate bassist James Plotkin – anything that reminds of the menacing crawl that the drone legends conjure was a perk. However, like any noise album that focuses on ugliness and discordance, the audience is limited, the replay value is near null, and its strengths are a novelty in many ways. Featuring manic vocals both harsh and operatic to contrast with the suffocating noise, Mrs. Frighthouse wins points for charisma, but Solitude Over Control is still very much a noise album.

To my relief, Mrs. Frighthouse utilizes opaqueness and density to its benefit, avoiding the painful awkwardness of Läjä Äijälä & Albert Witchfinder’s trainwreck of a collaboration. Plotkin’s services are put to good use, as the backbone of sound is suffocating and all-encompassing in a way that recalls drone’s colossal density, an expanse of ominous tones upon which Mrs. and Mrs. traverse with their vocal journeys. Throw in some haunting ritualistic drumming patterns and minor organ trills, Mrs. Frighthouse crafts horrific soundscapes using an expert blend of clarity, melody, and discordance to match their surprisingly dynamic foray into noise. This is no Oscillotron – Mrs. Frighthouse knows how to write songs. While at first glance the sea of noise is a constant hum, those willing to delve beneath the surface will find smart songwriting aplenty.

The contrast between clarity and density is a clear priority in Solitude Over Control – which ends up being its most controversial element. From the aggressive industrial pulse paired with thick waves of noise easy to get lost in (“DIY Exorcism,” “White Plaster Rooms”) to more subtle crawling pieces with screeching soprano trills that feel strangely confrontational (“Seagulls” part 1 and 2, “Let My Spit Be Poison”), while creeping melodic motifs are warped and bastardized by the static (“Our Culture Without Autonomy,” “My Body is a Crime Scene”), Mrs. Frighthouse is a tour-de-force of metallic aggression without a riff in sight. Solitude Over Control wears its themes on its sleeves in sometimes awkward forthrightness, as both Mrs.’s spew vitriol over the misogyny, homophobia, and transphobia witnessed and experienced, matching the aggression and viciousness of the music. The closing title track is worthy of mention, because its slow-burning crescendo is a maddening and horrifying end to a maddening and horrifying album – a nerve-frying culmination of Mrs. Frighthouse’s best and worst.

Almost everything about Solitude Over Control feels intentional, but holy shit, is it unflinching and uncomfortable. Mrs. Frighthouse’s two vocals are insanely charismatic in their blend of shrieks, growls, operatic belts, whispers, and shouts, propelling the movement of the noise as it emerges and disappears in the sea of noise. Plotkin’s mastering adds a suffocating and claustrophobic quality that adds to the menace and aggression. Some tracks you’ll find yourself getting lost in the swaths of noise and industrial harshness, others you’ll find yourself blushing in the awkward stark clarity of the vocals. Mrs. Frighthouse offers a better noise album than most and is closer to the ceiling, but due to the divisiveness of the style and the starkness of some of the minimalist pieces, the reception will be mixed. Noise fans rejoice, all others steer clear.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: PCM
Label: Self-Release
Websites: mrsfrighthouse.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/mrsfrighthouse
Releases Worldwide: September 26th, 2025

#25 #2025 #CouchSlut #Drone #Industrial #JulieChristmas #Khanate #LaTortureDesTénèbres #LäjäÄijäläAlbertWitchfinder #LinguaIgnota #MrsFrighthouse #Noise #Oscillotron #Review #Reviews #ScottishMetal #SelfRelease #Sep25 #SolitudeOverControl #Theatruum #Ulveblod

Mrs. Frighthouse – Solitude Over Control Review

By Dear Hollow

How much noise is too much? I used to believe you could never have too much noise, with bands like Theatruum and La Torture des Ténèbres weaponizing it for respectively vicious and otherworldly approaches. Then bands like Ulveblod and the infamous Ordeal & Triumph collaboration happened – and I lost my naivety. Ultimately, as we will see with duo Mrs. Frighthouse, diving into the noise genre offers a low ceiling and an equally low floor. Some of the worst music I’ve reviewed has had the “noise” tag attached to it, while some of the most okayest music I’ve reviewed also has noise attached to it – previously mentioned acts being controversial exceptions. It’s either the worst thing you’ve heard or okay. Mrs. Frighthouse is a light, er, fright in a sea of noise – for better or worse.

Glasgow-based Mrs. Frighthouse consists of wife and wife duo Carys and Luna Frighthouse, known as Mrs. and Mrs. on stage. Featuring an unflinching lyrical attack on misogyny, homophobia, and transphobia, and a musical approach as venomous, it recalls the likes of early Lingua Ignota, Couch Slut, and Julie Christmas. What hooked me was its mastering by Khanate bassist James Plotkin – anything that reminds of the menacing crawl that the drone legends conjure was a perk. However, like any noise album that focuses on ugliness and discordance, the audience is limited, the replay value is near null, and its strengths are a novelty in many ways. Featuring manic vocals both harsh and operatic to contrast with the suffocating noise, Mrs. Frighthouse wins points for charisma, but Solitude Over Control is still very much a noise album.

To my relief, Mrs. Frighthouse utilizes opaqueness and density to its benefit, avoiding the painful awkwardness of Läjä Äijälä & Albert Witchfinder’s trainwreck of a collaboration. Plotkin’s services are put to good use, as the backbone of sound is suffocating and all-encompassing in a way that recalls drone’s colossal density, an expanse of ominous tones upon which Mrs. and Mrs. traverse with their vocal journeys. Throw in some haunting ritualistic drumming patterns and minor organ trills, Mrs. Frighthouse crafts horrific soundscapes using an expert blend of clarity, melody, and discordance to match their surprisingly dynamic foray into noise. This is no Oscillotron – Mrs. Frighthouse knows how to write songs. While at first glance the sea of noise is a constant hum, those willing to delve beneath the surface will find smart songwriting aplenty.

The contrast between clarity and density is a clear priority in Solitude Over Control – which ends up being its most controversial element. From the aggressive industrial pulse paired with thick waves of noise easy to get lost in (“DIY Exorcism,” “White Plaster Rooms”) to more subtle crawling pieces with screeching soprano trills that feel strangely confrontational (“Seagulls” part 1 and 2, “Let My Spit Be Poison”), while creeping melodic motifs are warped and bastardized by the static (“Our Culture Without Autonomy,” “My Body is a Crime Scene”), Mrs. Frighthouse is a tour-de-force of metallic aggression without a riff in sight. Solitude Over Control wears its themes on its sleeves in sometimes awkward forthrightness, as both Mrs.’s spew vitriol over the misogyny, homophobia, and transphobia witnessed and experienced, matching the aggression and viciousness of the music. The closing title track is worthy of mention, because its slow-burning crescendo is a maddening and horrifying end to a maddening and horrifying album – a nerve-frying culmination of Mrs. Frighthouse’s best and worst.

Almost everything about Solitude Over Control feels intentional, but holy shit, is it unflinching and uncomfortable. Mrs. Frighthouse’s two vocals are insanely charismatic in their blend of shrieks, growls, operatic belts, whispers, and shouts, propelling the movement of the noise as it emerges and disappears in the sea of noise. Plotkin’s mastering adds a suffocating and claustrophobic quality that adds to the menace and aggression. Some tracks you’ll find yourself getting lost in the swaths of noise and industrial harshness, others you’ll find yourself blushing in the awkward stark clarity of the vocals. Mrs. Frighthouse offers a better noise album than most and is closer to the ceiling, but due to the divisiveness of the style and the starkness of some of the minimalist pieces, the reception will be mixed. Noise fans rejoice, all others steer clear.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: PCM
Label: Self-Release
Websites: mrsfrighthouse.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/mrsfrighthouse
Releases Worldwide: September 26th, 2025

#25 #2025 #CouchSlut #Drone #Industrial #JulieChristmas #Khanate #LaTortureDesTénèbres #LäjäÄijäläAlbertWitchfinder #LinguaIgnota #MrsFrighthouse #Noise #Oscillotron #Review #Reviews #ScottishMetal #SelfRelease #Sep25 #SolitudeOverControl #Theatruum #Ulveblod

Mrs. Frighthouse – Solitude Over Control Review

By Dear Hollow

How much noise is too much? I used to believe you could never have too much noise, with bands like Theatruum and La Torture des Ténèbres weaponizing it for respectively vicious and otherworldly approaches. Then bands like Ulveblod and the infamous Ordeal & Triumph collaboration happened – and I lost my naivety. Ultimately, as we will see with duo Mrs. Frighthouse, diving into the noise genre offers a low ceiling and an equally low floor. Some of the worst music I’ve reviewed has had the “noise” tag attached to it, while some of the most okayest music I’ve reviewed also has noise attached to it – previously mentioned acts being controversial exceptions. It’s either the worst thing you’ve heard or okay. Mrs. Frighthouse is a light, er, fright in a sea of noise – for better or worse.

Glasgow-based Mrs. Frighthouse consists of wife and wife duo Carys and Luna Frighthouse, known as Mrs. and Mrs. on stage. Featuring an unflinching lyrical attack on misogyny, homophobia, and transphobia, and a musical approach as venomous, it recalls the likes of early Lingua Ignota, Couch Slut, and Julie Christmas. What hooked me was its mastering by Khanate bassist James Plotkin – anything that reminds of the menacing crawl that the drone legends conjure was a perk. However, like any noise album that focuses on ugliness and discordance, the audience is limited, the replay value is near null, and its strengths are a novelty in many ways. Featuring manic vocals both harsh and operatic to contrast with the suffocating noise, Mrs. Frighthouse wins points for charisma, but Solitude Over Control is still very much a noise album.

To my relief, Mrs. Frighthouse utilizes opaqueness and density to its benefit, avoiding the painful awkwardness of Läjä Äijälä & Albert Witchfinder’s trainwreck of a collaboration. Plotkin’s services are put to good use, as the backbone of sound is suffocating and all-encompassing in a way that recalls drone’s colossal density, an expanse of ominous tones upon which Mrs. and Mrs. traverse with their vocal journeys. Throw in some haunting ritualistic drumming patterns and minor organ trills, Mrs. Frighthouse crafts horrific soundscapes using an expert blend of clarity, melody, and discordance to match their surprisingly dynamic foray into noise. This is no Oscillotron – Mrs. Frighthouse knows how to write songs. While at first glance the sea of noise is a constant hum, those willing to delve beneath the surface will find smart songwriting aplenty.

The contrast between clarity and density is a clear priority in Solitude Over Control – which ends up being its most controversial element. From the aggressive industrial pulse paired with thick waves of noise easy to get lost in (“DIY Exorcism,” “White Plaster Rooms”) to more subtle crawling pieces with screeching soprano trills that feel strangely confrontational (“Seagulls” part 1 and 2, “Let My Spit Be Poison”), while creeping melodic motifs are warped and bastardized by the static (“Our Culture Without Autonomy,” “My Body is a Crime Scene”), Mrs. Frighthouse is a tour-de-force of metallic aggression without a riff in sight. Solitude Over Control wears its themes on its sleeves in sometimes awkward forthrightness, as both Mrs.’s spew vitriol over the misogyny, homophobia, and transphobia witnessed and experienced, matching the aggression and viciousness of the music. The closing title track is worthy of mention, because its slow-burning crescendo is a maddening and horrifying end to a maddening and horrifying album – a nerve-frying culmination of Mrs. Frighthouse’s best and worst.

Almost everything about Solitude Over Control feels intentional, but holy shit, is it unflinching and uncomfortable. Mrs. Frighthouse’s two vocals are insanely charismatic in their blend of shrieks, growls, operatic belts, whispers, and shouts, propelling the movement of the noise as it emerges and disappears in the sea of noise. Plotkin’s mastering adds a suffocating and claustrophobic quality that adds to the menace and aggression. Some tracks you’ll find yourself getting lost in the swaths of noise and industrial harshness, others you’ll find yourself blushing in the awkward stark clarity of the vocals. Mrs. Frighthouse offers a better noise album than most and is closer to the ceiling, but due to the divisiveness of the style and the starkness of some of the minimalist pieces, the reception will be mixed. Noise fans rejoice, all others steer clear.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: PCM
Label: Self-Release
Websites: mrsfrighthouse.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/mrsfrighthouse
Releases Worldwide: September 26th, 2025

#25 #2025 #CouchSlut #Drone #Industrial #JulieChristmas #Khanate #LaTortureDesTénèbres #LäjäÄijäläAlbertWitchfinder #LinguaIgnota #MrsFrighthouse #Noise #Oscillotron #Review #Reviews #ScottishMetal #SelfRelease #Sep25 #SolitudeOverControl #Theatruum #Ulveblod

This week's #ThursDeath is Scotland's CAUSTIC PHLEGM-- a one man metal project I've been enjoying IMMENSELY these last couple weeks. It has tape hiss, synths, jankiness that I dig, and ODSM-inspired grossness. There's a Caustic Phlegm demo out this year too with other songs, but this is their (his) full length debut LP, 'Purulent Apocalypse'. And its sound really lives up to its name. Grody growling, slimy riffs, and pounding, crushing drums. HUGE contender for me this year.

https://caustic-phlegm.bandcamp.com/album/purulent-apocalypse

#metal #DeathMetal #ScottishMetal #UKMetal #Scotland #CausticPhlegm #synth #synths #2025Albums #2025Records #2025Metal #OSDM @HailsandAles @wendigo @rtw @guffo @flockofnazguls @BergRo @EisenTukan

This week's #ThursDeath is Scotland's CAUSTIC PHLEGM-- a one man metal project I've been enjoying IMMENSELY these last couple weeks. It has tape hiss, synths, jankiness that I dig, and ODSM-inspired grossness. There's a Caustic Phlegm demo out this year too with other songs, but this is their (his) full length debut LP, 'Purulent Apocalypse'. And its sound really lives up to its name. Grody growling, slimy riffs, and pounding, crushing drums. HUGE contender for me this year.

https://caustic-phlegm.bandcamp.com/album/purulent-apocalypse

#metal #DeathMetal #ScottishMetal #UKMetal #Scotland #CausticPhlegm #synth #synths #2025Albums #2025Records #2025Metal #OSDM @HailsandAles @wendigo @rtw @guffo @flockofnazguls @BergRo @EisenTukan

This week's #ThursDeath is Scotland's CAUSTIC PHLEGM-- a one man metal project I've been enjoying IMMENSELY these last couple weeks. It has tape hiss, synths, jankiness that I dig, and ODSM-inspired grossness. There's a Caustic Phlegm demo out this year too with other songs, but this is their (his) full length debut LP, 'Purulent Apocalypse'. And its sound really lives up to its name. Grody growling, slimy riffs, and pounding, crushing drums. HUGE contender for me this year.

https://caustic-phlegm.bandcamp.com/album/purulent-apocalypse

#metal #DeathMetal #ScottishMetal #UKMetal #Scotland #CausticPhlegm #synth #synths #2025Albums #2025Records #2025Metal #OSDM @HailsandAles @wendigo @rtw @guffo @flockofnazguls @BergRo @EisenTukan

This week's #ThursDeath is Scotland's CAUSTIC PHLEGM-- a one man metal project I've been enjoying IMMENSELY these last couple weeks. It has tape hiss, synths, jankiness that I dig, and ODSM-inspired grossness. There's a Caustic Phlegm demo out this year too with other songs, but this is their (his) full length debut LP, 'Purulent Apocalypse'. And its sound really lives up to its name. Grody growling, slimy riffs, and pounding, crushing drums. HUGE contender for me this year.

https://caustic-phlegm.bandcamp.com/album/purulent-apocalypse

#metal #DeathMetal #ScottishMetal #UKMetal #Scotland #CausticPhlegm #synth #synths #2025Albums #2025Records #2025Metal #OSDM @HailsandAles @wendigo @rtw @guffo @flockofnazguls @BergRo @EisenTukan

King Witch – III Review

By Owlswald

A great singer can be a game-changer, and Edinburgh doom outfit King Witch is lucky enough to have an exceptional one in Laura Donnelly. Combining the grit of Janis Joplin, the range of Chris Cornell, and the tonality of Ann Wilson (Heart), Donnelly is currently one of the best in the game thanks to her commanding delivery. But there’s no “I” in “band,” and every great singer needs instrumental prowess to back them up. Enter guitarist/producer Jamie Gilchrist and bassist Rory Lee,1 whose earthmoving riffs—rooted in doom, 70s rock and grunge—perfectly augment Donnelly’s gifts. Since hitting the scene in 2015, King Witch has evolved their artistic direction across two full-length albums and two EPs.2 Their 2018 debut, Under the Mountain, impressed one Ferrous Bueller, who underscored the group’s significant potential through strong songwriting and powerful performances. Their 2021 follow-up, Body of Light, then shifted focus, emphasizing dynamics via tempo and mood changes. With III, King Witch aims to combine the best aspects of their previous work and elevate their sound to the next level.

They’ve definitely succeeded. III features top-notch songwriting that highlights King Witch’s strengths. Donnelly dominates, fronting spirited rock anthems (“Digging in the Dirt,” “Suffer in Life”), acoustic ambiance (“Little Witch”), and introspective segments (“Behind the Veil,” “Last Great Wilderness”) with her impressive vibrato and vast range. Gilchrist’s versatility shines through a litany of memorable riffs, effortlessly shaping a Soundgarden of doom, grunge, and classic rock into a cohesive whole. From “Sea of Lies’” lumbering, grungy plods to “Deal with the Devil’s” blues-infused refrains, Gilchrist assembles a sophisticated and magnetic foundation of genre-bending material. Replacing Lyle Brown, session drummer Andrew Scott (Paul Gilbert, Slice the Cake) lays down Sabbathian-sized rhythms that unite with Lee’s driving bass, producing iron-clad tempos which bolster King Witch’s potent attack. Thanks to Gilchrist’s bright production, everything on III is brimming with energy and punch, elevating King Witch’s Candlemassive sound and reinforcing the album’s pervasive quality.

King Witch’s songwriting utilizes conventional structures with a newfound conciseness and maturity. The quartet’s knack for subtly varying tracks—even longer ones—to hold listener interest is a true testament to their skill in crafting memorable musical motifs. Repeat choruses that soar higher than the first (“Sea of Lies”), delicate and somber bridges that provide dynamic contrast to hard-hitting verses (“Last Great Wilderness”) and welcome variations in mood and energy that pull Scott’s and Lee’s performances into focus (“Behind the Veil,” “Swarming Flies”), add fresh dimensions within otherwise predictable verse-chorus frameworks. Simultaneously, these nuanced permutations grant the underlying performances the creative freedom and space to show their mettle while III’s succinct songwriting prevents stagnation. In this context, Gilchrist’s solos stand out and consistently impress, blending virtuosity with extraordinary feel without being too excessive. His blues-rooted phrasing and progressive technicality complement a lively wah tone that fuses III’s song structures together with a myriad of hammers, bends, sweeps, and taps.

Still, Laura Donnelly’s vocals remain the dominant force in King Witch’s music, and her incredibly emotional and powerful delivery makes III a genuine blast to experience. Serving as the band’s flagbearer, her voice is a masterclass in drama, power,r and dynamic control. Her range is off the charts, driving III’s catchy hooks and melodies with full-force belting (“Swarming Flies”), soulful croons (“Deal with the Devil,” “Last Great Wilderness”), and even falsetto (“Sea of Lies”) that glues me to every note. While I could wax poetic for hours about her superb performance on III, her Heartfelt singing atop the unplugged “Little Witch” is particularly noteworthy for its soothing yet chilling soulful presentation.

III is incredibly stout, and I’ve had it on repeat ever since it arrived. Pinpointing genuine flaws is a challenge, though if pressed, closer “Last Great Wilderness” occasionally meanders and “Behind the Veil” concludes rather abruptly. Moreover, the opening of motivational anthem “Diggin in the Dirt” doesn’t quite grip me as hard as its counterparts. These minor quibbles, however, do little to detract from III’s resounding success and the album masterfully fuses King Witch’s past strengths into one of the year’s best records. Great music often transcends labels, and III does exactly that. Buckle up—King Witch has officially arrived, and the future for these Edinburgh rockers is remarkably bright.

Rating: Great!
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Listenable Records
Websites: kingwitchband.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/kingwitch | instagram.com/kingwitchband
Releases Worldwide: June 27, 2025

Show 2 footnotes

1. Lyle Brown, King Witch’s former drummer, departed the band in 2022. ↩
2. Their Worship the Riffs EP comprised two covers: Black Sabbath’s “Children of the Sea” and Metallica’s “The Thing That Should Not Be.” ↩

#2025 #40 #BlackSabbath #Candlemass #DoomMetal #Heart #HeavyMetal #III #JanisJoplin #Jun25 #KingWitch #ListenableRecords #Review #Reviews #ScottishMetal #Soundgarden

King Witch – III Review

By Owlswald

A great singer can be a game-changer, and Edinburgh doom outfit King Witch is lucky enough to have an exceptional one in Laura Donnelly. Combining the grit of Janis Joplin, the range of Chris Cornell, and the tonality of Ann Wilson (Heart), Donnelly is currently one of the best in the game thanks to her commanding delivery. But there’s no “I” in “band,” and every great singer needs instrumental prowess to back them up. Enter guitarist/producer Jamie Gilchrist and bassist Rory Lee,1 whose earthmoving riffs—rooted in doom, 70s rock and grunge—perfectly augment Donnelly’s gifts. Since hitting the scene in 2015, King Witch has evolved their artistic direction across two full-length albums and two EPs.2 Their 2018 debut, Under the Mountain, impressed one Ferrous Bueller, who underscored the group’s significant potential through strong songwriting and powerful performances. Their 2021 follow-up, Body of Light, then shifted focus, emphasizing dynamics via tempo and mood changes. With III, King Witch aims to combine the best aspects of their previous work and elevate their sound to the next level.

They’ve definitely succeeded. III features top-notch songwriting that highlights King Witch’s strengths. Donnelly dominates, fronting spirited rock anthems (“Digging in the Dirt,” “Suffer in Life”), acoustic ambiance (“Little Witch”), and introspective segments (“Behind the Veil,” “Last Great Wilderness”) with her impressive vibrato and vast range. Gilchrist’s versatility shines through a litany of memorable riffs, effortlessly shaping a Soundgarden of doom, grunge, and classic rock into a cohesive whole. From “Sea of Lies’” lumbering, grungy plods to “Deal with the Devil’s” blues-infused refrains, Gilchrist assembles a sophisticated and magnetic foundation of genre-bending material. Replacing Lyle Brown, session drummer Andrew Scott (Paul Gilbert, Slice the Cake) lays down Sabbathian-sized rhythms that unite with Lee’s driving bass, producing iron-clad tempos which bolster King Witch’s potent attack. Thanks to Gilchrist’s bright production, everything on III is brimming with energy and punch, elevating King Witch’s Candlemassive sound and reinforcing the album’s pervasive quality.

King Witch’s songwriting utilizes conventional structures with a newfound conciseness and maturity. The quartet’s knack for subtly varying tracks—even longer ones—to hold listener interest is a true testament to their skill in crafting memorable musical motifs. Repeat choruses that soar higher than the first (“Sea of Lies”), delicate and somber bridges that provide dynamic contrast to hard-hitting verses (“Last Great Wilderness”) and welcome variations in mood and energy that pull Scott’s and Lee’s performances into focus (“Behind the Veil,” “Swarming Flies”), add fresh dimensions within otherwise predictable verse-chorus frameworks. Simultaneously, these nuanced permutations grant the underlying performances the creative freedom and space to show their mettle while III’s succinct songwriting prevents stagnation. In this context, Gilchrist’s solos stand out and consistently impress, blending virtuosity with extraordinary feel without being too excessive. His blues-rooted phrasing and progressive technicality complement a lively wah tone that fuses III’s song structures together with a myriad of hammers, bends, sweeps, and taps.

Still, Laura Donnelly’s vocals remain the dominant force in King Witch’s music, and her incredibly emotional and powerful delivery makes III a genuine blast to experience. Serving as the band’s flagbearer, her voice is a masterclass in drama, power,r and dynamic control. Her range is off the charts, driving III’s catchy hooks and melodies with full-force belting (“Swarming Flies”), soulful croons (“Deal with the Devil,” “Last Great Wilderness”), and even falsetto (“Sea of Lies”) that glues me to every note. While I could wax poetic for hours about her superb performance on III, her Heartfelt singing atop the unplugged “Little Witch” is particularly noteworthy for its soothing yet chilling soulful presentation.

III is incredibly stout, and I’ve had it on repeat ever since it arrived. Pinpointing genuine flaws is a challenge, though if pressed, closer “Last Great Wilderness” occasionally meanders and “Behind the Veil” concludes rather abruptly. Moreover, the opening of motivational anthem “Diggin in the Dirt” doesn’t quite grip me as hard as its counterparts. These minor quibbles, however, do little to detract from III’s resounding success and the album masterfully fuses King Witch’s past strengths into one of the year’s best records. Great music often transcends labels, and III does exactly that. Buckle up—King Witch has officially arrived, and the future for these Edinburgh rockers is remarkably bright.

Rating: Great!
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Listenable Records
Websites: kingwitchband.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/kingwitch | instagram.com/kingwitchband
Releases Worldwide: June 27, 2025

#2025 #40 #BlackSabbath #Candlemass #DoomMetal #Heart #HeavyMetal #III #JanisJoplin #Jun25 #KingWitch #ListenableRecords #Review #Reviews #ScottishMetal #Soundgarden

King Witch – III Review

By Owlswald

A great singer can be a game-changer, and Edinburgh doom outfit King Witch is lucky enough to have an exceptional one in Laura Donnelly. Combining the grit of Janis Joplin, the range of Chris Cornell, and the tonality of Ann Wilson (Heart), Donnelly is currently one of the best in the game thanks to her commanding delivery. But there’s no “I” in “band,” and every great singer needs instrumental prowess to back them up. Enter guitarist/producer Jamie Gilchrist and bassist Rory Lee,1 whose earthmoving riffs—rooted in doom, 70s rock and grunge—perfectly augment Donnelly’s gifts. Since hitting the scene in 2015, King Witch has evolved their artistic direction across two full-length albums and two EPs.2 Their 2018 debut, Under the Mountain, impressed one Ferrous Bueller, who underscored the group’s significant potential through strong songwriting and powerful performances. Their 2021 follow-up, Body of Light, then shifted focus, emphasizing dynamics via tempo and mood changes. With III, King Witch aims to combine the best aspects of their previous work and elevate their sound to the next level.

They’ve definitely succeeded. III features top-notch songwriting that highlights King Witch’s strengths. Donnelly dominates, fronting spirited rock anthems (“Digging in the Dirt,” “Suffer in Life”), acoustic ambiance (“Little Witch”), and introspective segments (“Behind the Veil,” “Last Great Wilderness”) with her impressive vibrato and vast range. Gilchrist’s versatility shines through a litany of memorable riffs, effortlessly shaping a Soundgarden of doom, grunge, and classic rock into a cohesive whole. From “Sea of Lies’” lumbering, grungy plods to “Deal with the Devil’s” blues-infused refrains, Gilchrist assembles a sophisticated and magnetic foundation of genre-bending material. Replacing Lyle Brown, session drummer Andrew Scott (Paul Gilbert, Slice the Cake) lays down Sabbathian-sized rhythms that unite with Lee’s driving bass, producing iron-clad tempos which bolster King Witch’s potent attack. Thanks to Gilchrist’s bright production, everything on III is brimming with energy and punch, elevating King Witch’s Candlemassive sound and reinforcing the album’s pervasive quality.

King Witch’s songwriting utilizes conventional structures with a newfound conciseness and maturity. The quartet’s knack for subtly varying tracks—even longer ones—to hold listener interest is a true testament to their skill in crafting memorable musical motifs. Repeat choruses that soar higher than the first (“Sea of Lies”), delicate and somber bridges that provide dynamic contrast to hard-hitting verses (“Last Great Wilderness”) and welcome variations in mood and energy that pull Scott’s and Lee’s performances into focus (“Behind the Veil,” “Swarming Flies”), add fresh dimensions within otherwise predictable verse-chorus frameworks. Simultaneously, these nuanced permutations grant the underlying performances the creative freedom and space to show their mettle while III’s succinct songwriting prevents stagnation. In this context, Gilchrist’s solos stand out and consistently impress, blending virtuosity with extraordinary feel without being too excessive. His blues-rooted phrasing and progressive technicality complement a lively wah tone that fuses III’s song structures together with a myriad of hammers, bends, sweeps, and taps.

Still, Laura Donnelly’s vocals remain the dominant force in King Witch’s music, and her incredibly emotional and powerful delivery makes III a genuine blast to experience. Serving as the band’s flagbearer, her voice is a masterclass in drama, power,r and dynamic control. Her range is off the charts, driving III’s catchy hooks and melodies with full-force belting (“Swarming Flies”), soulful croons (“Deal with the Devil,” “Last Great Wilderness”), and even falsetto (“Sea of Lies”) that glues me to every note. While I could wax poetic for hours about her superb performance on III, her Heartfelt singing atop the unplugged “Little Witch” is particularly noteworthy for its soothing yet chilling soulful presentation.

III is incredibly stout, and I’ve had it on repeat ever since it arrived. Pinpointing genuine flaws is a challenge, though if pressed, closer “Last Great Wilderness” occasionally meanders and “Behind the Veil” concludes rather abruptly. Moreover, the opening of motivational anthem “Diggin in the Dirt” doesn’t quite grip me as hard as its counterparts. These minor quibbles, however, do little to detract from III’s resounding success and the album masterfully fuses King Witch’s past strengths into one of the year’s best records. Great music often transcends labels, and III does exactly that. Buckle up—King Witch has officially arrived, and the future for these Edinburgh rockers is remarkably bright.

Rating: Great!
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Listenable Records
Websites: kingwitchband.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/kingwitch | instagram.com/kingwitchband
Releases Worldwide: June 27, 2025

#2025 #40 #BlackSabbath #Candlemass #DoomMetal #Heart #HeavyMetal #III #JanisJoplin #Jun25 #KingWitch #ListenableRecords #Review #Reviews #ScottishMetal #Soundgarden

King Witch – III Review

By Owlswald

A great singer can be a game-changer, and Edinburgh doom outfit King Witch is lucky enough to have an exceptional one in Laura Donnelly. Combining the grit of Janis Joplin, the range of Chris Cornell, and the tonality of Ann Wilson (Heart), Donnelly is currently one of the best in the game thanks to her commanding delivery. But there’s no “I” in “band,” and every great singer needs instrumental prowess to back them up. Enter guitarist/producer Jamie Gilchrist and bassist Rory Lee,1 whose earthmoving riffs—rooted in doom, 70s rock and grunge—perfectly augment Donnelly’s gifts. Since hitting the scene in 2015, King Witch has evolved their artistic direction across two full-length albums and two EPs.2 Their 2018 debut, Under the Mountain, impressed one Ferrous Bueller, who underscored the group’s significant potential through strong songwriting and powerful performances. Their 2021 follow-up, Body of Light, then shifted focus, emphasizing dynamics via tempo and mood changes. With III, King Witch aims to combine the best aspects of their previous work and elevate their sound to the next level.

They’ve definitely succeeded. III features top-notch songwriting that highlights King Witch’s strengths. Donnelly dominates, fronting spirited rock anthems (“Digging in the Dirt,” “Suffer in Life”), acoustic ambiance (“Little Witch”), and introspective segments (“Behind the Veil,” “Last Great Wilderness”) with her impressive vibrato and vast range. Gilchrist’s versatility shines through a litany of memorable riffs, effortlessly shaping a Soundgarden of doom, grunge, and classic rock into a cohesive whole. From “Sea of Lies’” lumbering, grungy plods to “Deal with the Devil’s” blues-infused refrains, Gilchrist assembles a sophisticated and magnetic foundation of genre-bending material. Replacing Lyle Brown, session drummer Andrew Scott (Paul Gilbert, Slice the Cake) lays down Sabbathian-sized rhythms that unite with Lee’s driving bass, producing iron-clad tempos which bolster King Witch’s potent attack. Thanks to Gilchrist’s bright production, everything on III is brimming with energy and punch, elevating King Witch’s Candlemassive sound and reinforcing the album’s pervasive quality.

King Witch’s songwriting utilizes conventional structures with a newfound conciseness and maturity. The quartet’s knack for subtly varying tracks—even longer ones—to hold listener interest is a true testament to their skill in crafting memorable musical motifs. Repeat choruses that soar higher than the first (“Sea of Lies”), delicate and somber bridges that provide dynamic contrast to hard-hitting verses (“Last Great Wilderness”) and welcome variations in mood and energy that pull Scott’s and Lee’s performances into focus (“Behind the Veil,” “Swarming Flies”), add fresh dimensions within otherwise predictable verse-chorus frameworks. Simultaneously, these nuanced permutations grant the underlying performances the creative freedom and space to show their mettle while III’s succinct songwriting prevents stagnation. In this context, Gilchrist’s solos stand out and consistently impress, blending virtuosity with extraordinary feel without being too excessive. His blues-rooted phrasing and progressive technicality complement a lively wah tone that fuses III’s song structures together with a myriad of hammers, bends, sweeps, and taps.

Still, Laura Donnelly’s vocals remain the dominant force in King Witch’s music, and her incredibly emotional and powerful delivery makes III a genuine blast to experience. Serving as the band’s flagbearer, her voice is a masterclass in drama, power,r and dynamic control. Her range is off the charts, driving III’s catchy hooks and melodies with full-force belting (“Swarming Flies”), soulful croons (“Deal with the Devil,” “Last Great Wilderness”), and even falsetto (“Sea of Lies”) that glues me to every note. While I could wax poetic for hours about her superb performance on III, her Heartfelt singing atop the unplugged “Little Witch” is particularly noteworthy for its soothing yet chilling soulful presentation.

III is incredibly stout, and I’ve had it on repeat ever since it arrived. Pinpointing genuine flaws is a challenge, though if pressed, closer “Last Great Wilderness” occasionally meanders and “Behind the Veil” concludes rather abruptly. Moreover, the opening of motivational anthem “Diggin in the Dirt” doesn’t quite grip me as hard as its counterparts. These minor quibbles, however, do little to detract from III’s resounding success and the album masterfully fuses King Witch’s past strengths into one of the year’s best records. Great music often transcends labels, and III does exactly that. Buckle up—King Witch has officially arrived, and the future for these Edinburgh rockers is remarkably bright.

Rating: Great!
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Listenable Records
Websites: kingwitchband.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/kingwitch | instagram.com/kingwitchband
Releases Worldwide: June 27, 2025

#2025 #40 #BlackSabbath #Candlemass #DoomMetal #Heart #HeavyMetal #III #JanisJoplin #Jun25 #KingWitch #ListenableRecords #Review #Reviews #ScottishMetal #Soundgarden

Stuck in the Filter: March 2025’s Angry Misses

By Kenstrosity

Spring is in the air, and with it comes… an insane number of cicadas! Yes, that’s right, Brood XIV spawned this year and is currently overwhelming my staff as they trudge through embuggened ducts to clear out the Filter of semi-precious metal. I bet it’s fucking loud in there…

…. eh I’m sure they are all fine. Just fine. Anyway, enjoy the spoils of our toils!

Kenstrosity’s Gloopy Grubber

Acid Age // Perilous Compulsion [February 28th, 2025 – Self Released]

Belfast’s wacky thrash conglomerate Acid Age came out of absolutely nowhere back in March, unleashing their fourth LP Perilous Compulsion and equipping it with one helluva van-worthy cover. This is some funky, bluesy, quasi-psychedelic thrash metal that pulls no punches. Riffs abound, bonkers songwriting pervades, immense groove agitates. From the onset, “Bikini Island” establishes Perilous Compulsion as a no-nonsense, balls-out affair which reminds me heavily of Voivod and a simplified Flummox informed by Atheist’s progressive proclivities, and expanded by a touch of Pink Floyd’s nebulous jams. Of course, thrash remains Acid Age’s hero flavor, as choice cuts “State Your Business,” “Revenge for Sale,” and closing one-two punch “Rotten Tooth” and “Hamster Wheel” clearly demonstrate. While their fearless exploration of style and structure maintains a sky-high level of interest, it also introduces a couple of challenges. Firstly, this material can feel a bit disjointed at first, but focused spins reward the listener greatly as all of Perilous Compulsion’s moving parts start to mesh and move in unison. Secondly, Acid Age throws a spotlight on a few brilliant inclusions that, over time, I wish were more often utilized—namely, the delightfully bluesy harmonica solos on “Rotten Tooth.” Regardless, Acid Age put themselves on my map with Perilous Compulsion. I recommend you put them on yours, too!

Owlswald’s Desiccated Discoveries

Verbian // Casarder [March 21st, 2025 – Lost Future Records]

It’s unjust that Portuguese rockers Verbian—who have been producing quality post-rock since 2019’s Jaez—haven’t received the attention they deserve. Fusing elements of post-rock with metal, psychedelic, and stoner, Casarder is Verbian’s third full-length and the first with new drummer Guilherme Gonçalves. Taking the sounds and inspirations of 2020’s Irrupção and enriching it with new permutations and modulations, Casarder’s largely instrumental character rides punchy riffs and roiling grooves—à la Russian Circles and Elder—to transmit its thought-provoking legitimacy. Dystopian and surreal séances, via echoing Korg synthscapes (“Pausa Entre Dias,” “Vozes da Ilha”) and celestial harmonies, permeate Casarder’s forty-three-minute runtime, translating Madalena Pinto’s striking Aeon Flux-esque cover art with precision. Ominous horn sections and crusty recurrent vocals (“Marcha do Vulto,” “Depois de Toda a Mudança”) by guitarist Vasco Reis and bassist Alexandre Silva underscore Verbian’s individuality in a crowded post-rock domain. Gonçalves’s drumming—with his intricate and enchanting hard rock and samba rhythms (“Nada Muda,” “Fruta Caída do Mar”)—adds a new dimension to Verbian’s sound, assuring my attention never falters. The group describes Casarder as communicating the “…insecurities of artistic expression and personal exposure when it comes to fearing being judged for something that is somewhat outside of what is done in each artist’s niche.” Indeed, Casarder reveals Verbian is unafraid to forge their own path, and the results are gripping.

Symbiotic Growth // Beyond the Sleepless Aether [March 28th, 2025 – Self Released]

Beyond the Sleepless Aether, the sophomore effort by Ontario, Canada’s Symbiotic Growth, immediately caught my attention with its dreamy-looking cover. Building upon their 2020 self-titled debut, the Canadian trio hones epic and long-form progressive death metal soundscapes, narrating a quest for meaning across alternate realities in mostly lengthy, yet rewarding, tracks that blend technicality, atmosphere, and melody. The group frequently employs dynamic shifts, moving between raging brutality and serene shoegaze beauty (“Arid Trials and Barren Sands,” “The Sleepless Void”). This is achieved through complex and vengeful passages alongside atmospheric synth lines and softer piano interludes (“Sires of Boundless Sunset,” “Of Painted Skies and Dancing Lights”), cultivating an air of wonder, mystery, and ethereality that permeates much of Symbiotic Growth’s material. “The Architect of Annihilation” echoes the style of Ne Obliviscaris with its blend of clean harmonies and harsh growls meshed with tremolo-picked arpeggiations and catchy hooks (the guitar solo even features a violin-like quality). “Lost in Fractured Reveries” evokes In Mourning with its parallel synth and guitar lines giving way to devastating grooves that make it impossible not to headbang. Although some fine-tuning remains—the clean vocals could use some more weight and tracks like “Of Painted Skies and Dancing Lights” and “The Architect of Annihilation” overstay their welcome at times—Beyond the Sleepless Aether shows Symbiotic Growth’s burgeoning talent and signals the group is one to watch in progressive death metal.

Dear Hollow’s Drudgery Sludgery Hoist

Spiritbox // Tsunami Sea [March 7th, 2025 – Pale Chord Records | Rise Records]

From humble beginnings in a more artsy-fartsy djent post-Iwrestledabearonce world to becoming the darlings of Octane Radio, Spiritbox has seen quite the ascent. While it’s easy to look at their work and scoff at its radio-friendliness, sophomore full-length Tsunami Sea shows Courtney LaPlante and company sticking to their guns. Simultaneously more obscure and more radio-friendly in its selection of tracks, expect its signature blend of colossal riffs and ethereal melodies guided by LaPlante’s siren-then-sea serpent dichotomy of furious roars and haunting cleans. Yes, Spiritbox helms its attack with the radio singles (“Perfect Soul,”1 “Crystal Roses”) in layered soaring choruses and touches of hip-hop undergirded by fierce grooves, but the meat of Tsunami Sea finds the flexibility and patience in the skull-crushing brutality (“Soft Spine,” “No Loss, No Love”) and its more exploratory songwriting that amps layers of the ethereal and the hellish with catchy riffs and vocals alike (“Fata Morgana,” “A Haven of Two Faces”). It’s far from perfect, and its tendency towards radio will be divisive, but it shows Spiritbox firing on all cylinders.

Unfleshing // Violent Reason [March 28th, 2025 – Self Released]

I am always tickled pink by blackened crust. It takes the crusty violence and propensity for filth and adds black metal’s signature sinister nature. Unfleshing is a young, unsigned blackened crust band from St. Louis, and with debut Violent Reason, you can expect a traditional punk-infused beatdown with a battered guitar tone and sinister vocals. However, more than many, the quartet offers a beatdown that feels as atmospheric as it is pummeling. Don’t get me wrong, you get your skull caved in like the poor guy on the cover with minute-long crust beatdowns (“Body Bag,” “From the Gutter”) and full-length smackdowns (“Knife in the Dark,” “Final Breath”), both styles complete with scathing grooves, squalid feedback, climactic solos and punishing blastbeats, atop a blackened roar dripping with hate. But amid the full-throttle assault, Unfleshing utilizes ominous black metal chord progressions and unsettling plucking to add a more dynamic feature to Violent Reason (“Cathedral Rust,” “One With the Mud”). The album never overstays, and while traditional, it’s a hell of a start for Unfleshing.

Ghostsmoker // Inertia Cult [March 21st, 2025 – Art as Catharsis Records]

Ghostsmoker seems like the perfect stoner metal band name, but aside from the swampy guitar tone, there’s something much sinister lurking. Proffering a caustic blackened doom/sludge not unlike Thou, Wormphlegm, and Sea Bastard, the Melbourne group quartet devotes a crisp forty-two minutes to sprawling doom weighted by a crushing guitar tone that rivals Morast‘s latest, and shrieked vocals straight from the latest church burning. Beyond what’s expected from this particular breed of devastation, Ghostsmoker infuses an evocative patience reminiscent of post-metal’s more sludgy offerings like Neurosis or Pelican, lending a certain atmosphere and mood of dread and wilderness depicted on its cover. From the outright chugging attacks of churning aggression (“Elogium,” “Haven”) to the more experimental and thoughtful pieces (“Bodies to Shore,” instrumental closer “The Death of Solitude”), Inertia Cult largely feels like a journey through uncharted forests, with voices whispering from the trees. Ghostsmoker is something special.

GardensTale’s Paralyzed Spine

Spiine // Tetraptych [March 27th, 2025 – Self Released]

Is it still a supergroup release when half the lineup are session musicians? Spiine is made up of Sesca Scaarba (Virgin Black) and Xen (ex-Ne Obliviscaris), but on debut Tetraptych they are joined by guests Waltteri Väyrynen (Opeth) and Lena Abé (My Dying Bride). Usually, so much talent put into the same room does not yield great results. Tetraptych is one hell of an exception. A monstrous slab of crawling heaviness, Spiine lurches with abject despair through the mires of deathly funeral doom. Though I usually eschew this genre, my attention remains rapt through a variety of variations. The songwriting keeps the 4 tracks progressing, slow and steady builds, and the promise of momentary tempo changes working a two-pronged structural plan to buoy the majestic yet miserable riffs. “Oubliiette” is the best example here, going from galloping death-doom to Georgian choirs to a fantastic bridge where all the instrumentation hits only on the roared syllables. Xen’s unholy bellows flatten any objections I may have had, managing both thunder and deepest woe in the same notes. The subtle orchestration and occasional choir arrangements finish the package with regal grandeur, and the lush and warm production is the cherry on top. If you feel like drowning your sorrows with an hour of colossal doom, this is the album for you.

Saunders’ Stenched Staples

Ade // Supplicium [March 14th, 2025 – Time to Kill Records]

Sometimes unjustly pigeonholed as the Roman-inspired version of Nile, the hugely underrated Ade have punched out a solid career of quality death metal releases since emerging roughly fifteen years ago, charting their own path. Albums like 2013’s ripping Spartacus and 2019’s solid Rise of the Empire represent a tidy snapshot of the band’s career. Fifth album Supplicium, their first LP in six years, marks a low-key, welcome return. Exotic instrumentation and attention to history and storytelling are alive and well in the Ade camp, as is their penchant for punishing, unrelenting death, featuring a deftly curated mix of bombast, brutality, technical spark, and epic atmospheres. Edoardo Di Santo (Hideous Divinity) joins a largely refreshed line-up, including a new bassist and second guitarist since their last album. Line-up changes aside, familiar Ade tools of harrowing ancient Roman tales and modern death destruction remain as consistently solid as always. Top-notch riffs, intricate arrangements, fluid tempo shifts, and explosive drumming highlight songs that frequently flex their flair for drama-fueled atmospheres, hellfire blasts, and burly grooves. The immense, multi-faceted “Burnt Before Gods,” exotic melodies and raw savagery of “Ad Beastias!,” spitfire intensity of “Vinum,” and epically charged throes of “From Fault to Disfigurement” highlight more solid returns from Ade.

Masters of Reality // The Archer [March 28th, 2025 – Artone Label Group/Mascot Records]

Underappreciated desert rock pioneers and quirky stalwarts Masters of Reality returned from recording oblivion some fifteen-plus years since they last unleashed an LP. Led by the legendary Chris Goss and his collaborative counterparts across a career that first kicked off in the late ’80s, Masters of Reality return sounding inspired, wisened, and a little more chilled. Re-tinkering their familiar but ever-shifting sound, Masters of Reality incorporate woozy, bluesy laidback vibes featuring their oddball songwriting traits through a sedate, intriguing collection of new songs. The Archer showcases Masters of Reality’s longevity as seasoned, skilled songwriters, regardless of the shifting rock modes they explore. While perhaps lacking some of the energetic spark and earworm hooks of albums like Sunrise on the Sufferbus and Deep in the Hole, The Archer still marks a fine return outing. Goss’ signature voice is in fine form, and the bluesy, psych-drenched guitars, cushy basslines, ’60s and ’70s influences, and spacey vibes create a comforting haze. The delightfully dreamy, trippy “Chicken Little,” laidback hooks and old school charms of “I Had a Dream,” lively, quirky grooves of “Mr Tap n’ Go,” and moody, melancholic balladry of “Powder Man” highlight another diverse, strange brew from the veteran act.

Tyme’s Unheard Annunciations

Doomsday // Never Known Peace [March 28th, 2025 – Creator-Destructor Records]

March’s filter means spring is here, mostly, which is when I start searching for bands to populate my annual edition of Tyme’s Mowing Metal. There’s nothing I enjoy more than cracking a cold beer, sliding my headphones over my ears, and hopping on the mower to complete one of summer’s—at least for me—most enjoyable chores. A band that will feature prominently this summer is Oakland, California’s crossover thrash quintet Doomsday, and their Creator-Destructor Records debut album, Never Known Peace. Doomsday lays down a ton of mindless fun in the vein of other crossover greats like Enforced and Power Trip. There are riffs aplenty on this deliciously executed hardcore-tinged thrashtastic platter full of snarly, spiteful, Jamey Jasta-esque vocals, trademark gang shouts, and, oh, did I mention the riffs? Yeah, cuz there’s a butt-ton of ’em. Leads and solos are melodic (“Death is Here,” “Eternal Tombs”). Within its beefily warm mix, the chug-a-lug breakdowns run rampant across Never Known Peace‘s thirty-one minutes (seriously, there’s one in every track), leaving nary a tune that won’t have you at least bobbing your head and, at most, causing your neck a very nasty case of whipthrash. I’m going to be listening to Never Known Peace ALOT this summer, on and off my mower, and while I don’t care that the lawn lines in my yard will be a little wavier this year than others, I’ll chalk it up to the beer and the head banging Doomsday‘s Never Known Peace instills.

Rancid Cadaver // Mortality Denied [March 21st, 2025 – Self Released]

Another filter, another fetid fragment of foulness; this month, it’s up-and-coming deathstarts Rancid Cadaver and their independently released debut album Mortality Denied. Adam Burke’s excellent cover art caught my eye during a quick dip into the Bandcamp pool and had me pushing play. A thick slab of murderous meat ripe with fatty veins of Coffin Mulch and Morbific running through it, Mortality Denied overflows with tons of bestial vocals, crushing drums, barbaric bass, and squealing solos, all ensorcelled within the majesty of Rancid Cadaver‘s miasmic riff-gurgitations (“Slurping the Cerebral Slime,” “Mass of Gore,” and “Drained of Brains”). Fists will pump, and faces will stank during the Fulci-friendly “Zombified,” a pulverizing slow-death chug fest with an intro that landed me right back on the shores of Dr. Menard’s island of the undead.2 This quartet of Glaswegians has plopped down a death metal debut that ages like wine, getting better and better with consecutive spins. Surprisingly, Rancid Cadaver is unsigned, but I’m confident that status should change before we see a sophomore effort, and you can bet I’ll be there when that happens.

Dolphin Whisperer’s Unsophisticated Slappers

Crossed // Realismo Ausente [March 21st, 2025 – Zegema Beach Records]

Timing means everything in groove. I know that some people say that they have a hard time finding that kind of bob and sway in extreme music. But with an act like Spain’s Crossed, whose every carved word and every skronked guitar noise follows an insatiable punky stride, groove lies in every moment of third full-length Realismo Ausente. Whether it’s on the classic beat of D (“Vaciar Un Corazón,” “Cuerpo Distorsionado”), the twanging drone of a screaming bend (“Monotonía de la lluvia en la Ventana”), or the Celtic Frost-ed hammer of a chord crush (“Catedral”), a calculated, urgent, and intoxicating cadence colors the grayscale attitude throughout. But just because Crossed can find a groove in any twisted mathy rhythm—early Converge and Dillinger Escape Plan come to mind on quick cuts like “Cerrojo” and “Sentirse Solo”—doesn’t mean that their panic chord-loaded crescendos and close-outs can’t rip your head clean off in banging ecstasy. Easy listening and blackened hardcore can’t go hand-in-hand, but Crossed does their very best to make unintelligible, scathing screeches and ceiling-scraping feedback hissing palatable against crunchy punk builds and throbbing, warm bass grumbles. Likewise, Realismo Ausente stabs into a dejected body tales of loathing, fear, self-rejection, and defeated existence—nothing smiles in its urgent and apathetic crevices. But despite the lack of light at the end of the tunnel of Crossed’s horror-touched vision of impassioned hardcore, an analog warmth and human spirit trapped inside a writhing and pleading throat reveal a presence that’s still fighting. It’s the fight that counts. If you didn’t join the fight last time, now’s as good a time as any.

Nothing // The Self Repair Manifesto [March 26th, 2025 – Self Released]

If you noticed a tree zombie heading steaming through its trepanned opening, then you too found the same initial draw I had to The Self Repair Manifesto. Nothing complex often can draw us to the things we desire, yet in Nothing’s particular attack of relentless, groove-based death metal, many nooks of additional interest exist. The Self Repair Manifesto’s tribal rhythm-stirred “Initiation,” in its bouncy play, does little to set up the double-kick pummel and snarling refrains that lurk in this brutal, Australian soundscape. The simple chiming cymbal-fluttering bass call-and-response of “Subterfuge,” the throat singing summoning of “The Shroud,” the immediate onslaught of “Abrogation”—all in under 30 minutes, an infectious and progressive experience unfolds. And never fear, living by the motto “no clean singing,”3 Nothing has no intention of traveling the wandering and crooning path of an Opeth or In Vain. Rather, Nothing finds a hypnotic rhythmic presence both in fanciful kit play that stirs a foot shuffle and high-tempo stick abuse that urges bodies on bodies in the pit (“Subterfuge,” “The Shroud”), much in the same way you might hear in early Decapitated or Hate Eternal works. With flair of their own, though, and a mic near the mouth vessel of each member (yes, even the drummer!) to maintain a layered harsh intensity, Nothing serves a potent blend of death metal that is as jam-able as it is gym-able. Whether you seek gains or progressive enrichment, Nothing is the answer.

Steel Druhm’s Massive Aggressive

Impurity // The Eternal Sleep [ March 7th, 2025 – Hammerheart Records]

Impurity’s lust for all things Left Hand Path is not the least bit Clandestine, and on their full-length debut, The Eternal Sleep, they attempt to craft their own ode to the rabid HM-2 worship of the early 90s Swedeath sound. No new elements are shoehorned in aside from vaguely blackened ones, and there’s not the slightest effort to push the boundaries of the admittedly limited Swedeath sound. The Eternal Sleep sounds like the album that could have come between Entombed’s timeless debut and the Clandestine follow-up, and that’s not a bad place to be. It’s heavy, brutish, buzzing death metal with an OSDM edge, and it hits like a runaway 18-wheeler full of concrete and titanium rebar. One only needs to weather the shitstorm of opener “Denial of Clarity” to realize this is the deep water of the niche genre. It’s extremely heavy, face-melting death with more fuzz and buzz than your brain can process. Other cuts feel like a direct lift from Left Hand Path and/or Clandestine (“Tribute to Creation,”) and fetid Dismember tidbits creep in during “Pilgrimage to Utumno,” and these feel like olde friends showing up unexpectedly at the hometown watering hole. Swedeath is all about those ragged, jagged riffs, and they’re delivered in abundance over The Eternal Sleep, and despite the intrinsic lack of originality, Impurity pump enough steroids and Cialis into the genre archetypes to make the material endearing and engaging. Yes, you’ve heard this shit before. Now hear it again, chumbo!

#AcidAge #Ade #AmericanMetal #ArtAsCatharsisRecords #ArtoneLabelGroup #Atheist #AustralianMetal #BeyondTheSleeplessAether #BlackMetal #BlackenedCrust #BlackenedHardcore #CanadianMetal #Casarder #CelticFrost #CoffinMulch #Converge #CreatorDestructorRecords #Crossed #Crust #DeathMetal #Decapitated #DesertRock #DillingerEscapePlan #DoomMetal #Doomsday #Elder #Enforced #Flummox #Fulci #Ghostsmoker #Hardcore #HateEternal #HideousDivinity #Impurity #InMourning #InVain #InertialCult #InternationalMetal #ItalianMetal #iwrestledabearonce #LostFutureRecords #MascotRecords #MastersOfReality #Mathcore #MelodicMetal #Metalcore #Morast #Morbific #MortalityDenied #MyDyingBride #NeObliviscaris #Neurosis #NeverKnownPeace #Nile #Nothing #Opeth #PaleChordRecords #Pelican #PerilousCompulsion #PinkFloyd #PortugueseMetal #PostRock #PostMetal #PowerTrip #ProgressiveDeathMetal #ProgressiveMetal #ProgressiveThrashMetal #PyschedelicRock #RancidCadaver #RealismoAusente #Review #Reviews #RiseRecords #RussianCircles #ScottishMetal #SeaBastard #SelfReleased #SixpenceNoneTheRicher #SludgeMetal #SpanishMetal #Spiine #Spiritbox #StonerMetal #Supplicium #SymbioticGrowth #TechnicalDeathMetal #Tetraptych #TheArcher #TheEternalSleep #TheSelfRepairManifesto #Thou #ThrashMetal #TimeToKillRecords #TsunamiSea #UKMetal #Unfleshing #Verbian #ViolentReason #VirginBlack #Voivod #Wormphlegm #ZegemaBeachRecords

Stuck in the Filter: March 2025’s Angry Misses

By Kenstrosity

Spring is in the air, and with it comes… an insane number of cicadas! Yes, that’s right, Brood XIV spawned this year and is currently overwhelming my staff as they trudge through embuggened ducts to clear out the Filter of semi-precious metal. I bet it’s fucking loud in there…

…. eh I’m sure they are all fine. Just fine. Anyway, enjoy the spoils of our toils!

Kenstrosity’s Gloopy Grubber

Acid Age // Perilous Compulsion [February 28th, 2025 – Self Released]

Belfast’s wacky thrash conglomerate Acid Age came out of absolutely nowhere back in March, unleashing their fourth LP Perilous Compulsion and equipping it with one helluva van-worthy cover. This is some funky, bluesy, quasi-psychedelic thrash metal that pulls no punches. Riffs abound, bonkers songwriting pervades, immense groove agitates. From the onset, “Bikini Island” establishes Perilous Compulsion as a no-nonsense, balls-out affair which reminds me heavily of Voivod and a simplified Flummox informed by Atheist’s progressive proclivities, and expanded by a touch of Pink Floyd’s nebulous jams. Of course, thrash remains Acid Age’s hero flavor, as choice cuts “State Your Business,” “Revenge for Sale,” and closing one-two punch “Rotten Tooth” and “Hamster Wheel” clearly demonstrate. While their fearless exploration of style and structure maintains a sky-high level of interest, it also introduces a couple of challenges. Firstly, this material can feel a bit disjointed at first, but focused spins reward the listener greatly as all of Perilous Compulsion’s moving parts start to mesh and move in unison. Secondly, Acid Age throws a spotlight on a few brilliant inclusions that, over time, I wish were more often utilized—namely, the delightfully bluesy harmonica solos on “Rotten Tooth.” Regardless, Acid Age put themselves on my map with Perilous Compulsion. I recommend you put them on yours, too!

Owlswald’s Desiccated Discoveries

Verbian // Casarder [March 21st, 2025 – Lost Future Records]

It’s unjust that Portuguese rockers Verbian—who have been producing quality post-rock since 2019’s Jaez—haven’t received the attention they deserve. Fusing elements of post-rock with metal, psychedelic, and stoner, Casarder is Verbian’s third full-length and the first with new drummer Guilherme Gonçalves. Taking the sounds and inspirations of 2020’s Irrupção and enriching it with new permutations and modulations, Casarder’s largely instrumental character rides punchy riffs and roiling grooves—à la Russian Circles and Elder—to transmit its thought-provoking legitimacy. Dystopian and surreal séances, via echoing Korg synthscapes (“Pausa Entre Dias,” “Vozes da Ilha”) and celestial harmonies, permeate Casarder’s forty-three-minute runtime, translating Madalena Pinto’s striking Aeon Flux-esque cover art with precision. Ominous horn sections and crusty recurrent vocals (“Marcha do Vulto,” “Depois de Toda a Mudança”) by guitarist Vasco Reis and bassist Alexandre Silva underscore Verbian’s individuality in a crowded post-rock domain. Gonçalves’s drumming—with his intricate and enchanting hard rock and samba rhythms (“Nada Muda,” “Fruta Caída do Mar”)—adds a new dimension to Verbian’s sound, assuring my attention never falters. The group describes Casarder as communicating the “…insecurities of artistic expression and personal exposure when it comes to fearing being judged for something that is somewhat outside of what is done in each artist’s niche.” Indeed, Casarder reveals Verbian is unafraid to forge their own path, and the results are gripping.

Symbiotic Growth // Beyond the Sleepless Aether [March 28th, 2025 – Self Released]

Beyond the Sleepless Aether, the sophomore effort by Ontario, Canada’s Symbiotic Growth, immediately caught my attention with its dreamy-looking cover. Building upon their 2020 self-titled debut, the Canadian trio hones epic and long-form progressive death metal soundscapes, narrating a quest for meaning across alternate realities in mostly lengthy, yet rewarding, tracks that blend technicality, atmosphere, and melody. The group frequently employs dynamic shifts, moving between raging brutality and serene shoegaze beauty (“Arid Trials and Barren Sands,” “The Sleepless Void”). This is achieved through complex and vengeful passages alongside atmospheric synth lines and softer piano interludes (“Sires of Boundless Sunset,” “Of Painted Skies and Dancing Lights”), cultivating an air of wonder, mystery, and ethereality that permeates much of Symbiotic Growth’s material. “The Architect of Annihilation” echoes the style of Ne Obliviscaris with its blend of clean harmonies and harsh growls meshed with tremolo-picked arpeggiations and catchy hooks (the guitar solo even features a violin-like quality). “Lost in Fractured Reveries” evokes In Mourning with its parallel synth and guitar lines giving way to devastating grooves that make it impossible not to headbang. Although some fine-tuning remains—the clean vocals could use some more weight and tracks like “Of Painted Skies and Dancing Lights” and “The Architect of Annihilation” overstay their welcome at times—Beyond the Sleepless Aether shows Symbiotic Growth’s burgeoning talent and signals the group is one to watch in progressive death metal.

Dear Hollow’s Drudgery Sludgery Hoist

Spiritbox // Tsunami Sea [March 7th, 2025 – Pale Chord Records | Rise Records]

From humble beginnings in a more artsy-fartsy djent post-Iwrestledabearonce world to becoming the darlings of Octane Radio, Spiritbox has seen quite the ascent. While it’s easy to look at their work and scoff at its radio-friendliness, sophomore full-length Tsunami Sea shows Courtney LaPlante and company sticking to their guns. Simultaneously more obscure and more radio-friendly in its selection of tracks, expect its signature blend of colossal riffs and ethereal melodies guided by LaPlante’s siren-then-sea serpent dichotomy of furious roars and haunting cleans. Yes, Spiritbox helms its attack with the radio singles (“Perfect Soul,”1 “Crystal Roses”) in layered soaring choruses and touches of hip-hop undergirded by fierce grooves, but the meat of Tsunami Sea finds the flexibility and patience in the skull-crushing brutality (“Soft Spine,” “No Loss, No Love”) and its more exploratory songwriting that amps layers of the ethereal and the hellish with catchy riffs and vocals alike (“Fata Morgana,” “A Haven of Two Faces”). It’s far from perfect, and its tendency towards radio will be divisive, but it shows Spiritbox firing on all cylinders.

Unfleshing // Violent Reason [March 28th, 2025 – Self Released]

I am always tickled pink by blackened crust. It takes the crusty violence and propensity for filth and adds black metal’s signature sinister nature. Unfleshing is a young, unsigned blackened crust band from St. Louis, and with debut Violent Reason, you can expect a traditional punk-infused beatdown with a battered guitar tone and sinister vocals. However, more than many, the quartet offers a beatdown that feels as atmospheric as it is pummeling. Don’t get me wrong, you get your skull caved in like the poor guy on the cover with minute-long crust beatdowns (“Body Bag,” “From the Gutter”) and full-length smackdowns (“Knife in the Dark,” “Final Breath”), both styles complete with scathing grooves, squalid feedback, climactic solos and punishing blastbeats, atop a blackened roar dripping with hate. But amid the full-throttle assault, Unfleshing utilizes ominous black metal chord progressions and unsettling plucking to add a more dynamic feature to Violent Reason (“Cathedral Rust,” “One With the Mud”). The album never overstays, and while traditional, it’s a hell of a start for Unfleshing.

Ghostsmoker // Inertia Cult [March 21st, 2025 – Art as Catharsis Records]

Ghostsmoker seems like the perfect stoner metal band name, but aside from the swampy guitar tone, there’s something much sinister lurking. Proffering a caustic blackened doom/sludge not unlike Thou, Wormphlegm, and Sea Bastard, the Melbourne group quartet devotes a crisp forty-two minutes to sprawling doom weighted by a crushing guitar tone that rivals Morast‘s latest, and shrieked vocals straight from the latest church burning. Beyond what’s expected from this particular breed of devastation, Ghostsmoker infuses an evocative patience reminiscent of post-metal’s more sludgy offerings like Neurosis or Pelican, lending a certain atmosphere and mood of dread and wilderness depicted on its cover. From the outright chugging attacks of churning aggression (“Elogium,” “Haven”) to the more experimental and thoughtful pieces (“Bodies to Shore,” instrumental closer “The Death of Solitude”), Inertia Cult largely feels like a journey through uncharted forests, with voices whispering from the trees. Ghostsmoker is something special.

GardensTale’s Paralyzed Spine

Spiine // Tetraptych [March 27th, 2025 – Self Released]

Is it still a supergroup release when half the lineup are session musicians? Spiine is made up of Sesca Scaarba (Virgin Black) and Xen (ex-Ne Obliviscaris), but on debut Tetraptych they are joined by guests Waltteri Väyrynen (Opeth) and Lena Abé (My Dying Bride). Usually, so much talent put into the same room does not yield great results. Tetraptych is one hell of an exception. A monstrous slab of crawling heaviness, Spiine lurches with abject despair through the mires of deathly funeral doom. Though I usually eschew this genre, my attention remains rapt through a variety of variations. The songwriting keeps the 4 tracks progressing, slow and steady builds, and the promise of momentary tempo changes working a two-pronged structural plan to buoy the majestic yet miserable riffs. “Oubliiette” is the best example here, going from galloping death-doom to Georgian choirs to a fantastic bridge where all the instrumentation hits only on the roared syllables. Xen’s unholy bellows flatten any objections I may have had, managing both thunder and deepest woe in the same notes. The subtle orchestration and occasional choir arrangements finish the package with regal grandeur, and the lush and warm production is the cherry on top. If you feel like drowning your sorrows with an hour of colossal doom, this is the album for you.

Saunders’ Stenched Staples

Ade // Supplicium [March 14th, 2025 – Time to Kill Records]

Sometimes unjustly pigeonholed as the Roman-inspired version of Nile, the hugely underrated Ade have punched out a solid career of quality death metal releases since emerging roughly fifteen years ago, charting their own path. Albums like 2013’s ripping Spartacus and 2019’s solid Rise of the Empire represent a tidy snapshot of the band’s career. Fifth album Supplicium, their first LP in six years, marks a low-key, welcome return. Exotic instrumentation and attention to history and storytelling are alive and well in the Ade camp, as is their penchant for punishing, unrelenting death, featuring a deftly curated mix of bombast, brutality, technical spark, and epic atmospheres. Edoardo Di Santo (Hideous Divinity) joins a largely refreshed line-up, including a new bassist and second guitarist since their last album. Line-up changes aside, familiar Ade tools of harrowing ancient Roman tales and modern death destruction remain as consistently solid as always. Top-notch riffs, intricate arrangements, fluid tempo shifts, and explosive drumming highlight songs that frequently flex their flair for drama-fueled atmospheres, hellfire blasts, and burly grooves. The immense, multi-faceted “Burnt Before Gods,” exotic melodies and raw savagery of “Ad Beastias!,” spitfire intensity of “Vinum,” and epically charged throes of “From Fault to Disfigurement” highlight more solid returns from Ade.

Masters of Reality // The Archer [March 28th, 2025 – Artone Label Group/Mascot Records]

Underappreciated desert rock pioneers and quirky stalwarts Masters of Reality returned from recording oblivion some fifteen-plus years since they last unleashed an LP. Led by the legendary Chris Goss and his collaborative counterparts across a career that first kicked off in the late ’80s, Masters of Reality return sounding inspired, wisened, and a little more chilled. Re-tinkering their familiar but ever-shifting sound, Masters of Reality incorporate woozy, bluesy laidback vibes featuring their oddball songwriting traits through a sedate, intriguing collection of new songs. The Archer showcases Masters of Reality’s longevity as seasoned, skilled songwriters, regardless of the shifting rock modes they explore. While perhaps lacking some of the energetic spark and earworm hooks of albums like Sunrise on the Sufferbus and Deep in the Hole, The Archer still marks a fine return outing. Goss’ signature voice is in fine form, and the bluesy, psych-drenched guitars, cushy basslines, ’60s and ’70s influences, and spacey vibes create a comforting haze. The delightfully dreamy, trippy “Chicken Little,” laidback hooks and old school charms of “I Had a Dream,” lively, quirky grooves of “Mr Tap n’ Go,” and moody, melancholic balladry of “Powder Man” highlight another diverse, strange brew from the veteran act.

Tyme’s Unheard Annunciations

Doomsday // Never Known Peace [March 28th, 2025 – Creator-Destructor Records]

March’s filter means spring is here, mostly, which is when I start searching for bands to populate my annual edition of Tyme’s Mowing Metal. There’s nothing I enjoy more than cracking a cold beer, sliding my headphones over my ears, and hopping on the mower to complete one of summer’s—at least for me—most enjoyable chores. A band that will feature prominently this summer is Oakland, California’s crossover thrash quintet Doomsday, and their Creator-Destructor Records debut album, Never Known Peace. Doomsday lays down a ton of mindless fun in the vein of other crossover greats like Enforced and Power Trip. There are riffs aplenty on this deliciously executed hardcore-tinged thrashtastic platter full of snarly, spiteful, Jamey Jasta-esque vocals, trademark gang shouts, and, oh, did I mention the riffs? Yeah, cuz there’s a butt-ton of ’em. Leads and solos are melodic (“Death is Here,” “Eternal Tombs”). Within its beefily warm mix, the chug-a-lug breakdowns run rampant across Never Known Peace‘s thirty-one minutes (seriously, there’s one in every track), leaving nary a tune that won’t have you at least bobbing your head and, at most, causing your neck a very nasty case of whipthrash. I’m going to be listening to Never Known Peace ALOT this summer, on and off my mower, and while I don’t care that the lawn lines in my yard will be a little wavier this year than others, I’ll chalk it up to the beer and the head banging Doomsday‘s Never Known Peace instills.

Rancid Cadaver // Mortality Denied [March 21st, 2025 – Self Released]

Another filter, another fetid fragment of foulness; this month, it’s up-and-coming deathstarts Rancid Cadaver and their independently released debut album Mortality Denied. Adam Burke’s excellent cover art caught my eye during a quick dip into the Bandcamp pool and had me pushing play. A thick slab of murderous meat ripe with fatty veins of Coffin Mulch and Morbific running through it, Mortality Denied overflows with tons of bestial vocals, crushing drums, barbaric bass, and squealing solos, all ensorcelled within the majesty of Rancid Cadaver‘s miasmic riff-gurgitations (“Slurping the Cerebral Slime,” “Mass of Gore,” and “Drained of Brains”). Fists will pump, and faces will stank during the Fulci-friendly “Zombified,” a pulverizing slow-death chug fest with an intro that landed me right back on the shores of Dr. Menard’s island of the undead.2 This quartet of Glaswegians has plopped down a death metal debut that ages like wine, getting better and better with consecutive spins. Surprisingly, Rancid Cadaver is unsigned, but I’m confident that status should change before we see a sophomore effort, and you can bet I’ll be there when that happens.

Dolphin Whisperer’s Unsophisticated Slappers

Crossed // Realismo Ausente [March 21st, 2025 – Zegema Beach Records]

Timing means everything in groove. I know that some people say that they have a hard time finding that kind of bob and sway in extreme music. But with an act like Spain’s Crossed, whose every carved word and every skronked guitar noise follows an insatiable punky stride, groove lies in every moment of third full-length Realismo Ausente. Whether it’s on the classic beat of D (“Vaciar Un Corazón,” “Cuerpo Distorsionado”), the twanging drone of a screaming bend (“Monotonía de la lluvia en la Ventana”), or the Celtic Frost-ed hammer of a chord crush (“Catedral”), a calculated, urgent, and intoxicating cadence colors the grayscale attitude throughout. But just because Crossed can find a groove in any twisted mathy rhythm—early Converge and Dillinger Escape Plan come to mind on quick cuts like “Cerrojo” and “Sentirse Solo”—doesn’t mean that their panic chord-loaded crescendos and close-outs can’t rip your head clean off in banging ecstasy. Easy listening and blackened hardcore can’t go hand-in-hand, but Crossed does their very best to make unintelligible, scathing screeches and ceiling-scraping feedback hissing palatable against crunchy punk builds and throbbing, warm bass grumbles. Likewise, Realismo Ausente stabs into a dejected body tales of loathing, fear, self-rejection, and defeated existence—nothing smiles in its urgent and apathetic crevices. But despite the lack of light at the end of the tunnel of Crossed’s horror-touched vision of impassioned hardcore, an analog warmth and human spirit trapped inside a writhing and pleading throat reveal a presence that’s still fighting. It’s the fight that counts. If you didn’t join the fight last time, now’s as good a time as any.

Nothing // The Self Repair Manifesto [March 26th, 2025 – Self Released]

If you noticed a tree zombie heading steaming through its trepanned opening, then you too found the same initial draw I had to The Self Repair Manifesto. Nothing complex often can draw us to the things we desire, yet in Nothing’s particular attack of relentless, groove-based death metal, many nooks of additional interest exist. The Self Repair Manifesto’s tribal rhythm-stirred “Initiation,” in its bouncy play, does little to set up the double-kick pummel and snarling refrains that lurk in this brutal, Australian soundscape. The simple chiming cymbal-fluttering bass call-and-response of “Subterfuge,” the throat singing summoning of “The Shroud,” the immediate onslaught of “Abrogation”—all in under 30 minutes, an infectious and progressive experience unfolds. And never fear, living by the motto “no clean singing,”3 Nothing has no intention of traveling the wandering and crooning path of an Opeth or In Vain. Rather, Nothing finds a hypnotic rhythmic presence both in fanciful kit play that stirs a foot shuffle and high-tempo stick abuse that urges bodies on bodies in the pit (“Subterfuge,” “The Shroud”), much in the same way you might hear in early Decapitated or Hate Eternal works. With flair of their own, though, and a mic near the mouth vessel of each member (yes, even the drummer!) to maintain a layered harsh intensity, Nothing serves a potent blend of death metal that is as jam-able as it is gym-able. Whether you seek gains or progressive enrichment, Nothing is the answer.

Steel Druhm’s Massive Aggressive

Impurity // The Eternal Sleep [ March 7th, 2025 – Hammerheart Records]

Impurity’s lust for all things Left Hand Path is not the least bit Clandestine, and on their full-length debut, The Eternal Sleep, they attempt to craft their own ode to the rabid HM-2 worship of the early 90s Swedeath sound. No new elements are shoehorned in aside from vaguely blackened ones, and there’s not the slightest effort to push the boundaries of the admittedly limited Swedeath sound. The Eternal Sleep sounds like the album that could have come between Entombed’s timeless debut and the Clandestine follow-up, and that’s not a bad place to be. It’s heavy, brutish, buzzing death metal with an OSDM edge, and it hits like a runaway 18-wheeler full of concrete and titanium rebar. One only needs to weather the shitstorm of opener “Denial of Clarity” to realize this is the deep water of the niche genre. It’s extremely heavy, face-melting death with more fuzz and buzz than your brain can process. Other cuts feel like a direct lift from Left Hand Path and/or Clandestine (“Tribute to Creation,”) and fetid Dismember tidbits creep in during “Pilgrimage to Utumno,” and these feel like olde friends showing up unexpectedly at the hometown watering hole. Swedeath is all about those ragged, jagged riffs, and they’re delivered in abundance over The Eternal Sleep, and despite the intrinsic lack of originality, Impurity pump enough steroids and Cialis into the genre archetypes to make the material endearing and engaging. Yes, you’ve heard this shit before. Now hear it again, chumbo!

#AcidAge #Ade #AmericanMetal #ArtAsCatharsisRecords #ArtoneLabelGroup #Atheist #AustralianMetal #BeyondTheSleeplessAether #BlackMetal #BlackenedCrust #BlackenedHardcore #CanadianMetal #Casarder #CelticFrost #CoffinMulch #Converge #CreatorDestructorRecords #Crossed #Crust #DeathMetal #Decapitated #DesertRock #DillingerEscapePlan #DoomMetal #Doomsday #Elder #Enforced #Flummox #Fulci #Ghostsmoker #Hardcore #HateEternal #HideousDivinity #Impurity #InMourning #InVain #InertialCult #InternationalMetal #ItalianMetal #iwrestledabearonce #LostFutureRecords #MascotRecords #MastersOfReality #Mathcore #MelodicMetal #Metalcore #Morast #Morbific #MortalityDenied #MyDyingBride #NeObliviscaris #Neurosis #NeverKnownPeace #Nile #Nothing #Opeth #PaleChordRecords #Pelican #PerilousCompulsion #PinkFloyd #PortugueseMetal #PostRock #PostMetal #PowerTrip #ProgressiveDeathMetal #ProgressiveMetal #ProgressiveThrashMetal #PyschedelicRock #RancidCadaver #RealismoAusente #Review #Reviews #RiseRecords #RussianCircles #ScottishMetal #SeaBastard #SelfReleased #SixpenceNoneTheRicher #SludgeMetal #SpanishMetal #Spiine #Spiritbox #StonerMetal #Supplicium #SymbioticGrowth #TechnicalDeathMetal #Tetraptych #TheArcher #TheEternalSleep #TheSelfRepairManifesto #Thou #ThrashMetal #TimeToKillRecords #TsunamiSea #UKMetal #Unfleshing #Verbian #ViolentReason #VirginBlack #Voivod #Wormphlegm #ZegemaBeachRecords

Stuck in the Filter: March 2025’s Angry Misses

By Kenstrosity

Spring is in the air, and with it comes… an insane number of cicadas! Yes, that’s right, Brood XIV spawned this year and is currently overwhelming my staff as they trudge through embuggened ducts to clear out the Filter of semi-precious metal. I bet it’s fucking loud in there…

…. eh I’m sure they are all fine. Just fine. Anyway, enjoy the spoils of our toils!

Kenstrosity’s Gloopy Grubber

Acid Age // Perilous Compulsion [February 28th, 2025 – Self Released]

Belfast’s wacky thrash conglomerate Acid Age came out of absolutely nowhere back in March, unleashing their fourth LP Perilous Compulsion and equipping it with one helluva van-worthy cover. This is some funky, bluesy, quasi-psychedelic thrash metal that pulls no punches. Riffs abound, bonkers songwriting pervades, immense groove agitates. From the onset, “Bikini Island” establishes Perilous Compulsion as a no-nonsense, balls-out affair which reminds me heavily of Voivod and a simplified Flummox informed by Atheist’s progressive proclivities, and expanded by a touch of Pink Floyd’s nebulous jams. Of course, thrash remains Acid Age’s hero flavor, as choice cuts “State Your Business,” “Revenge for Sale,” and closing one-two punch “Rotten Tooth” and “Hamster Wheel” clearly demonstrate. While their fearless exploration of style and structure maintains a sky-high level of interest, it also introduces a couple of challenges. Firstly, this material can feel a bit disjointed at first, but focused spins reward the listener greatly as all of Perilous Compulsion’s moving parts start to mesh and move in unison. Secondly, Acid Age throws a spotlight on a few brilliant inclusions that, over time, I wish were more often utilized—namely, the delightfully bluesy harmonica solos on “Rotten Tooth.” Regardless, Acid Age put themselves on my map with Perilous Compulsion. I recommend you put them on yours, too!

Owlswald’s Desiccated Discoveries

Verbian // Casarder [March 21st, 2025 – Lost Future Records]

It’s unjust that Portuguese rockers Verbian—who have been producing quality post-rock since 2019’s Jaez—haven’t received the attention they deserve. Fusing elements of post-rock with metal, psychedelic, and stoner, Casarder is Verbian’s third full-length and the first with new drummer Guilherme Gonçalves. Taking the sounds and inspirations of 2020’s Irrupção and enriching it with new permutations and modulations, Casarder’s largely instrumental character rides punchy riffs and roiling grooves—à la Russian Circles and Elder—to transmit its thought-provoking legitimacy. Dystopian and surreal séances, via echoing Korg synthscapes (“Pausa Entre Dias,” “Vozes da Ilha”) and celestial harmonies, permeate Casarder’s forty-three-minute runtime, translating Madalena Pinto’s striking Aeon Flux-esque cover art with precision. Ominous horn sections and crusty recurrent vocals (“Marcha do Vulto,” “Depois de Toda a Mudança”) by guitarist Vasco Reis and bassist Alexandre Silva underscore Verbian’s individuality in a crowded post-rock domain. Gonçalves’s drumming—with his intricate and enchanting hard rock and samba rhythms (“Nada Muda,” “Fruta Caída do Mar”)—adds a new dimension to Verbian’s sound, assuring my attention never falters. The group describes Casarder as communicating the “…insecurities of artistic expression and personal exposure when it comes to fearing being judged for something that is somewhat outside of what is done in each artist’s niche.” Indeed, Casarder reveals Verbian is unafraid to forge their own path, and the results are gripping.

Symbiotic Growth // Beyond the Sleepless Aether [March 28th, 2025 – Self Released]

Beyond the Sleepless Aether, the sophomore effort by Ontario, Canada’s Symbiotic Growth, immediately caught my attention with its dreamy-looking cover. Building upon their 2020 self-titled debut, the Canadian trio hones epic and long-form progressive death metal soundscapes, narrating a quest for meaning across alternate realities in mostly lengthy, yet rewarding, tracks that blend technicality, atmosphere, and melody. The group frequently employs dynamic shifts, moving between raging brutality and serene shoegaze beauty (“Arid Trials and Barren Sands,” “The Sleepless Void”). This is achieved through complex and vengeful passages alongside atmospheric synth lines and softer piano interludes (“Sires of Boundless Sunset,” “Of Painted Skies and Dancing Lights”), cultivating an air of wonder, mystery, and ethereality that permeates much of Symbiotic Growth’s material. “The Architect of Annihilation” echoes the style of Ne Obliviscaris with its blend of clean harmonies and harsh growls meshed with tremolo-picked arpeggiations and catchy hooks (the guitar solo even features a violin-like quality). “Lost in Fractured Reveries” evokes In Mourning with its parallel synth and guitar lines giving way to devastating grooves that make it impossible not to headbang. Although some fine-tuning remains—the clean vocals could use some more weight and tracks like “Of Painted Skies and Dancing Lights” and “The Architect of Annihilation” overstay their welcome at times—Beyond the Sleepless Aether shows Symbiotic Growth’s burgeoning talent and signals the group is one to watch in progressive death metal.

Dear Hollow’s Drudgery Sludgery Hoist

Spiritbox // Tsunami Sea [March 7th, 2025 – Pale Chord Records | Rise Records]

From humble beginnings in a more artsy-fartsy djent post-Iwrestledabearonce world to becoming the darlings of Octane Radio, Spiritbox has seen quite the ascent. While it’s easy to look at their work and scoff at its radio-friendliness, sophomore full-length Tsunami Sea shows Courtney LaPlante and company sticking to their guns. Simultaneously more obscure and more radio-friendly in its selection of tracks, expect its signature blend of colossal riffs and ethereal melodies guided by LaPlante’s siren-then-sea serpent dichotomy of furious roars and haunting cleans. Yes, Spiritbox helms its attack with the radio singles (“Perfect Soul,”1 “Crystal Roses”) in layered soaring choruses and touches of hip-hop undergirded by fierce grooves, but the meat of Tsunami Sea finds the flexibility and patience in the skull-crushing brutality (“Soft Spine,” “No Loss, No Love”) and its more exploratory songwriting that amps layers of the ethereal and the hellish with catchy riffs and vocals alike (“Fata Morgana,” “A Haven of Two Faces”). It’s far from perfect, and its tendency towards radio will be divisive, but it shows Spiritbox firing on all cylinders.

Unfleshing // Violent Reason [March 28th, 2025 – Self Released]

I am always tickled pink by blackened crust. It takes the crusty violence and propensity for filth and adds black metal’s signature sinister nature. Unfleshing is a young, unsigned blackened crust band from St. Louis, and with debut Violent Reason, you can expect a traditional punk-infused beatdown with a battered guitar tone and sinister vocals. However, more than many, the quartet offers a beatdown that feels as atmospheric as it is pummeling. Don’t get me wrong, you get your skull caved in like the poor guy on the cover with minute-long crust beatdowns (“Body Bag,” “From the Gutter”) and full-length smackdowns (“Knife in the Dark,” “Final Breath”), both styles complete with scathing grooves, squalid feedback, climactic solos and punishing blastbeats, atop a blackened roar dripping with hate. But amid the full-throttle assault, Unfleshing utilizes ominous black metal chord progressions and unsettling plucking to add a more dynamic feature to Violent Reason (“Cathedral Rust,” “One With the Mud”). The album never overstays, and while traditional, it’s a hell of a start for Unfleshing.

Ghostsmoker // Inertia Cult [March 21st, 2025 – Art as Catharsis Records]

Ghostsmoker seems like the perfect stoner metal band name, but aside from the swampy guitar tone, there’s something much sinister lurking. Proffering a caustic blackened doom/sludge not unlike Thou, Wormphlegm, and Sea Bastard, the Melbourne group quartet devotes a crisp forty-two minutes to sprawling doom weighted by a crushing guitar tone that rivals Morast‘s latest, and shrieked vocals straight from the latest church burning. Beyond what’s expected from this particular breed of devastation, Ghostsmoker infuses an evocative patience reminiscent of post-metal’s more sludgy offerings like Neurosis or Pelican, lending a certain atmosphere and mood of dread and wilderness depicted on its cover. From the outright chugging attacks of churning aggression (“Elogium,” “Haven”) to the more experimental and thoughtful pieces (“Bodies to Shore,” instrumental closer “The Death of Solitude”), Inertia Cult largely feels like a journey through uncharted forests, with voices whispering from the trees. Ghostsmoker is something special.

GardensTale’s Paralyzed Spine

Spiine // Tetraptych [March 27th, 2025 – Self Released]

Is it still a supergroup release when half the lineup are session musicians? Spiine is made up of Sesca Scaarba (Virgin Black) and Xen (ex-Ne Obliviscaris), but on debut Tetraptych they are joined by guests Waltteri Väyrynen (Opeth) and Lena Abé (My Dying Bride). Usually, so much talent put into the same room does not yield great results. Tetraptych is one hell of an exception. A monstrous slab of crawling heaviness, Spiine lurches with abject despair through the mires of deathly funeral doom. Though I usually eschew this genre, my attention remains rapt through a variety of variations. The songwriting keeps the 4 tracks progressing, slow and steady builds, and the promise of momentary tempo changes working a two-pronged structural plan to buoy the majestic yet miserable riffs. “Oubliiette” is the best example here, going from galloping death-doom to Georgian choirs to a fantastic bridge where all the instrumentation hits only on the roared syllables. Xen’s unholy bellows flatten any objections I may have had, managing both thunder and deepest woe in the same notes. The subtle orchestration and occasional choir arrangements finish the package with regal grandeur, and the lush and warm production is the cherry on top. If you feel like drowning your sorrows with an hour of colossal doom, this is the album for you.

Saunders’ Stenched Staples

Ade // Supplicium [March 14th, 2025 – Time to Kill Records]

Sometimes unjustly pigeonholed as the Roman-inspired version of Nile, the hugely underrated Ade have punched out a solid career of quality death metal releases since emerging roughly fifteen years ago, charting their own path. Albums like 2013’s ripping Spartacus and 2019’s solid Rise of the Empire represent a tidy snapshot of the band’s career. Fifth album Supplicium, their first LP in six years, marks a low-key, welcome return. Exotic instrumentation and attention to history and storytelling are alive and well in the Ade camp, as is their penchant for punishing, unrelenting death, featuring a deftly curated mix of bombast, brutality, technical spark, and epic atmospheres. Edoardo Di Santo (Hideous Divinity) joins a largely refreshed line-up, including a new bassist and second guitarist since their last album. Line-up changes aside, familiar Ade tools of harrowing ancient Roman tales and modern death destruction remain as consistently solid as always. Top-notch riffs, intricate arrangements, fluid tempo shifts, and explosive drumming highlight songs that frequently flex their flair for drama-fueled atmospheres, hellfire blasts, and burly grooves. The immense, multi-faceted “Burnt Before Gods,” exotic melodies and raw savagery of “Ad Beastias!,” spitfire intensity of “Vinum,” and epically charged throes of “From Fault to Disfigurement” highlight more solid returns from Ade.

Masters of Reality // The Archer [March 28th, 2025 – Artone Label Group/Mascot Records]

Underappreciated desert rock pioneers and quirky stalwarts Masters of Reality returned from recording oblivion some fifteen-plus years since they last unleashed an LP. Led by the legendary Chris Goss and his collaborative counterparts across a career that first kicked off in the late ’80s, Masters of Reality return sounding inspired, wisened, and a little more chilled. Re-tinkering their familiar but ever-shifting sound, Masters of Reality incorporate woozy, bluesy laidback vibes featuring their oddball songwriting traits through a sedate, intriguing collection of new songs. The Archer showcases Masters of Reality’s longevity as seasoned, skilled songwriters, regardless of the shifting rock modes they explore. While perhaps lacking some of the energetic spark and earworm hooks of albums like Sunrise on the Sufferbus and Deep in the Hole, The Archer still marks a fine return outing. Goss’ signature voice is in fine form, and the bluesy, psych-drenched guitars, cushy basslines, ’60s and ’70s influences, and spacey vibes create a comforting haze. The delightfully dreamy, trippy “Chicken Little,” laidback hooks and old school charms of “I Had a Dream,” lively, quirky grooves of “Mr Tap n’ Go,” and moody, melancholic balladry of “Powder Man” highlight another diverse, strange brew from the veteran act.

Tyme’s Unheard Annunciations

Doomsday // Never Known Peace [March 28th, 2025 – Creator-Destructor Records]

March’s filter means spring is here, mostly, which is when I start searching for bands to populate my annual edition of Tyme’s Mowing Metal. There’s nothing I enjoy more than cracking a cold beer, sliding my headphones over my ears, and hopping on the mower to complete one of summer’s—at least for me—most enjoyable chores. A band that will feature prominently this summer is Oakland, California’s crossover thrash quintet Doomsday, and their Creator-Destructor Records debut album, Never Known Peace. Doomsday lays down a ton of mindless fun in the vein of other crossover greats like Enforced and Power Trip. There are riffs aplenty on this deliciously executed hardcore-tinged thrashtastic platter full of snarly, spiteful, Jamey Jasta-esque vocals, trademark gang shouts, and, oh, did I mention the riffs? Yeah, cuz there’s a butt-ton of ’em. Leads and solos are melodic (“Death is Here,” “Eternal Tombs”). Within its beefily warm mix, the chug-a-lug breakdowns run rampant across Never Known Peace‘s thirty-one minutes (seriously, there’s one in every track), leaving nary a tune that won’t have you at least bobbing your head and, at most, causing your neck a very nasty case of whipthrash. I’m going to be listening to Never Known Peace ALOT this summer, on and off my mower, and while I don’t care that the lawn lines in my yard will be a little wavier this year than others, I’ll chalk it up to the beer and the head banging Doomsday‘s Never Known Peace instills.

Rancid Cadaver // Mortality Denied [March 21st, 2025 – Self Released]

Another filter, another fetid fragment of foulness; this month, it’s up-and-coming deathstarts Rancid Cadaver and their independently released debut album Mortality Denied. Adam Burke’s excellent cover art caught my eye during a quick dip into the Bandcamp pool and had me pushing play. A thick slab of murderous meat ripe with fatty veins of Coffin Mulch and Morbific running through it, Mortality Denied overflows with tons of bestial vocals, crushing drums, barbaric bass, and squealing solos, all ensorcelled within the majesty of Rancid Cadaver‘s miasmic riff-gurgitations (“Slurping the Cerebral Slime,” “Mass of Gore,” and “Drained of Brains”). Fists will pump, and faces will stank during the Fulci-friendly “Zombified,” a pulverizing slow-death chug fest with an intro that landed me right back on the shores of Dr. Menard’s island of the undead.2 This quartet of Glaswegians has plopped down a death metal debut that ages like wine, getting better and better with consecutive spins. Surprisingly, Rancid Cadaver is unsigned, but I’m confident that status should change before we see a sophomore effort, and you can bet I’ll be there when that happens.

Dolphin Whisperer’s Unsophisticated Slappers

Crossed // Realismo Ausente [March 21st, 2025 – Zegema Beach Records]

Timing means everything in groove. I know that some people say that they have a hard time finding that kind of bob and sway in extreme music. But with an act like Spain’s Crossed, whose every carved word and every skronked guitar noise follows an insatiable punky stride, groove lies in every moment of third full-length Realismo Ausente. Whether it’s on the classic beat of D (“Vaciar Un Corazón,” “Cuerpo Distorsionado”), the twanging drone of a screaming bend (“Monotonía de la lluvia en la Ventana”), or the Celtic Frost-ed hammer of a chord crush (“Catedral”), a calculated, urgent, and intoxicating cadence colors the grayscale attitude throughout. But just because Crossed can find a groove in any twisted mathy rhythm—early Converge and Dillinger Escape Plan come to mind on quick cuts like “Cerrojo” and “Sentirse Solo”—doesn’t mean that their panic chord-loaded crescendos and close-outs can’t rip your head clean off in banging ecstasy. Easy listening and blackened hardcore can’t go hand-in-hand, but Crossed does their very best to make unintelligible, scathing screeches and ceiling-scraping feedback hissing palatable against crunchy punk builds and throbbing, warm bass grumbles. Likewise, Realismo Ausente stabs into a dejected body tales of loathing, fear, self-rejection, and defeated existence—nothing smiles in its urgent and apathetic crevices. But despite the lack of light at the end of the tunnel of Crossed’s horror-touched vision of impassioned hardcore, an analog warmth and human spirit trapped inside a writhing and pleading throat reveal a presence that’s still fighting. It’s the fight that counts. If you didn’t join the fight last time, now’s as good a time as any.

Nothing // The Self Repair Manifesto [March 26th, 2025 – Self Released]

If you noticed a tree zombie heading steaming through its trepanned opening, then you too found the same initial draw I had to The Self Repair Manifesto. Nothing complex often can draw us to the things we desire, yet in Nothing’s particular attack of relentless, groove-based death metal, many nooks of additional interest exist. The Self Repair Manifesto’s tribal rhythm-stirred “Initiation,” in its bouncy play, does little to set up the double-kick pummel and snarling refrains that lurk in this brutal, Australian soundscape. The simple chiming cymbal-fluttering bass call-and-response of “Subterfuge,” the throat singing summoning of “The Shroud,” the immediate onslaught of “Abrogation”—all in under 30 minutes, an infectious and progressive experience unfolds. And never fear, living by the motto “no clean singing,”3 Nothing has no intention of traveling the wandering and crooning path of an Opeth or In Vain. Rather, Nothing finds a hypnotic rhythmic presence both in fanciful kit play that stirs a foot shuffle and high-tempo stick abuse that urges bodies on bodies in the pit (“Subterfuge,” “The Shroud”), much in the same way you might hear in early Decapitated or Hate Eternal works. With flair of their own, though, and a mic near the mouth vessel of each member (yes, even the drummer!) to maintain a layered harsh intensity, Nothing serves a potent blend of death metal that is as jam-able as it is gym-able. Whether you seek gains or progressive enrichment, Nothing is the answer.

Steel Druhm’s Massive Aggressive

Impurity // The Eternal Sleep [ March 7th, 2025 – Hammerheart Records]

Impurity’s lust for all things Left Hand Path is not the least bit Clandestine, and on their full-length debut, The Eternal Sleep, they attempt to craft their own ode to the rabid HM-2 worship of the early 90s Swedeath sound. No new elements are shoehorned in aside from vaguely blackened ones, and there’s not the slightest effort to push the boundaries of the admittedly limited Swedeath sound. The Eternal Sleep sounds like the album that could have come between Entombed’s timeless debut and the Clandestine follow-up, and that’s not a bad place to be. It’s heavy, brutish, buzzing death metal with an OSDM edge, and it hits like a runaway 18-wheeler full of concrete and titanium rebar. One only needs to weather the shitstorm of opener “Denial of Clarity” to realize this is the deep water of the niche genre. It’s extremely heavy, face-melting death with more fuzz and buzz than your brain can process. Other cuts feel like a direct lift from Left Hand Path and/or Clandestine (“Tribute to Creation,”) and fetid Dismember tidbits creep in during “Pilgrimage to Utumno,” and these feel like olde friends showing up unexpectedly at the hometown watering hole. Swedeath is all about those ragged, jagged riffs, and they’re delivered in abundance over The Eternal Sleep, and despite the intrinsic lack of originality, Impurity pump enough steroids and Cialis into the genre archetypes to make the material endearing and engaging. Yes, you’ve heard this shit before. Now hear it again, chumbo!

#AcidAge #Ade #AmericanMetal #ArtAsCatharsisRecords #ArtoneLabelGroup #Atheist #AustralianMetal #BeyondTheSleeplessAether #BlackMetal #BlackenedCrust #BlackenedHardcore #CanadianMetal #Casarder #CelticFrost #CoffinMulch #Converge #CreatorDestructorRecords #Crossed #Crust #DeathMetal #Decapitated #DesertRock #DillingerEscapePlan #DoomMetal #Doomsday #Elder #Enforced #Flummox #Fulci #Ghostsmoker #Hardcore #HateEternal #HideousDivinity #Impurity #InMourning #InVain #InertialCult #InternationalMetal #ItalianMetal #iwrestledabearonce #LostFutureRecords #MascotRecords #MastersOfReality #Mathcore #MelodicMetal #Metalcore #Morast #Morbific #MortalityDenied #MyDyingBride #NeObliviscaris #Neurosis #NeverKnownPeace #Nile #Nothing #Opeth #PaleChordRecords #Pelican #PerilousCompulsion #PinkFloyd #PortugueseMetal #PostRock #PostMetal #PowerTrip #ProgressiveDeathMetal #ProgressiveMetal #ProgressiveThrashMetal #PyschedelicRock #RancidCadaver #RealismoAusente #Review #Reviews #RiseRecords #RussianCircles #ScottishMetal #SeaBastard #SelfReleased #SixpenceNoneTheRicher #SludgeMetal #SpanishMetal #Spiine #Spiritbox #StonerMetal #Supplicium #SymbioticGrowth #TechnicalDeathMetal #Tetraptych #TheArcher #TheEternalSleep #TheSelfRepairManifesto #Thou #ThrashMetal #TimeToKillRecords #TsunamiSea #UKMetal #Unfleshing #Verbian #ViolentReason #VirginBlack #Voivod #Wormphlegm #ZegemaBeachRecords

Chestcrush – ΨΥΧΟΒΓΑΛΤΗΣ Review

By Tyme

Chestcrush is what happens when you fuck around and find out. These three blackened death dealers from Edinburgh, Scotland, formed in 2020, released their independent debut album, Vthelygmia, in 2021. That’s when Chestcrush caught my ear for the first time, penning one of my favorite songs, “Different Shepherd, Same Sheep.” After swapping original vocalist Thomas Blanc for Topias Jokipii, who debuted his wares on 2022’s Apechtheia EP, Chestcrush is back with its sophomore prüno-piss and vinegar-filled platter, ΨΥΧΟΒΓΑΛΤΗΣ. Translated from Greek to mean ‘soul extractor,’ ΨΥΧΟΒΓΑΛΤΗΣ metaphorically describes an experience or person that is so incredibly tormenting to you that it feels like it’s pulling your very soul out through your mouth. Will I need my jaw re-aligned after listening to ΨΥΧΟΒΓΑΛΤΗΣ, or is this dog just a toothless barker?

Chestcrush executes its misanthropic, anti-everything brand of nihilism by fusing blackened deathgrind with sludgy, doomy industrialism on ΨΥΧΟΒΓΑΛΤΗΣ. And even with the grindier bits dialed back, ΨΥΧΟΒΓΑΛΤΗΣA sounds like a bloodied blend of Anaal Nathrakh, Immolation, and Napalm Death sprinkled with an extra vitriolic dash o’ Nails. Evangelos Vasilakos crushes chests and eardrums with an onslaught of riffs full of brutish chugs, crusty sludge, and deathly density (“Existence is Punishment”). Drummer Robin Stone (Ashen Horde) brings the mutha-fuckin’ skulls to the yard with his rib-rattling, Anaal Nathrakhian double kick work, which often serves as a tempodic counterpoint to Evan’s wall of sound bass and guitar destruction (“We Shall Be Devoured by the Offspring of Our Own Flesh”). Topping off this sundae of fuck-off-fun-day decimation are the Mikael Åkerfeldtish vocals of Jokipii, whose roars and guttural growls bring an altogether beastlier edge to ΨΥΧΟΒΓΑΛΤΗΣ‘s throat work. Chestcrush will not make you feel good about yourself, nor will they have you looking hopefully into the future.

Speaking of hope, if not abandoned wholly before entering Chestcrush‘s world, it will be by the time “Every Single Word That Comes Out of Your Filthy Hole Is an Infectious Lie a Spreading Disease” invades your earholes. It is a punishing, anti-religious anthem full of chunky riffs, dissonant tremolos, Stone’s inhuman drumming, and Jokipii’s tortured growls and screams, prefaced by an ominous warning, ‘Until the last stone, from the last church, falls on the last priest.’ And as the screechy, staticky ending of “Hang Them! Torch Them!” gives way to the tolling bells of the sludgy behemoth and album closer, “As the Damned Writhe in Eternal Woe,” it is clear that Chestcrush hates us all. ΨΥΧΟΒΓΑΛΤΗΣ has no high points, no zenith; it is a cavalcade of sorrow, a series of nadirs plumbing depths subterranean of Dante’s seventh circle.

From the very Hellraiser-esque cover art courtesy of Vladimir Chebakov to the forty-minute runtime, Chestcrush‘s ΨΥΧΟΒΓΑΛΤΗΣ is infinitely more mature than its predecessor, Vthelygmia. I attribute this leap in maturation to two things. First, Chestcrush‘s songwriting has blossomed like a blackened rose, resulting in fully developed compositions that wend, wind, and weave within themselves, an ebb and flow of drama that casts a pall of abject hopelessness over the entire affair. Second, the addition of vocalist Topias Jokipii, whose beefier delivery and propensity to stay in his lower, more guttural register better fit Chestrcush‘s aural aesthetic. I have little in the way of criticism for ΨΥΧΟΒΓΑΛΤΗΣ, but there was something that stood out, which is a brief screech of feedback that rears its head throughout the album, mainly as an exclamation point. It works when employed to create an intersong dynamic (“Every Single Word…”), but it becomes grating when tacked on the end of nearly every track, sometimes twice (“We Shall Be Devoured…”).

Chestcrush has penned a dirge celebrating the death of humanity and is the human embodiment of existential hate. You’ll not be blasting ΨΥΧΟΒΓΑΛΤΗΣ poolside this summer, cracking beers and seltzers with your buddies and their wives, crisping flesh in the sun. Chestcrush is of darkness, despair, and destitution, and that is where ΨΥΧΟΒΓΑΛΤΗΣ will take you. I have committed several hours to ΨΥΧΟΒΓΑΛΤΗΣ in preparation for this review, and this time has left me spent, my jaw firmly wired shut, soul removed. I think I need to go and listen to some Fellowship now.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320kbps mp3
Label: Self-Released
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: April 4, 2025

#2025 #35 #AnaalNathrakh #Apr25 #BlackMetal #Chestcrush #DeathMetal #Immolation #Nails #NapalmDeath #Review #Reviews #ScottishMetal #Sludge #ΨΥΧΟΒΓΑΛΤΗΣ

Chestcrush – ΨΥΧΟΒΓΑΛΤΗΣ Review

By Tyme

Chestcrush is what happens when you fuck around and find out. These three blackened death dealers from Edinburgh, Scotland, formed in 2020, released their independent debut album, Vthelygmia, in 2021. That’s when Chestcrush caught my ear for the first time, penning one of my favorite songs, “Different Shepherd, Same Sheep.” After swapping original vocalist Thomas Blanc for Topias Jokipii, who debuted his wares on 2022’s Apechtheia EP, Chestcrush is back with its sophomore prüno-piss and vinegar-filled platter, ΨΥΧΟΒΓΑΛΤΗΣ. Translated from Greek to mean ‘soul extractor,’ ΨΥΧΟΒΓΑΛΤΗΣ metaphorically describes an experience or person that is so incredibly tormenting to you that it feels like it’s pulling your very soul out through your mouth. Will I need my jaw re-aligned after listening to ΨΥΧΟΒΓΑΛΤΗΣ, or is this dog just a toothless barker?

Chestcrush executes its misanthropic, anti-everything brand of nihilism by fusing blackened deathgrind with sludgy, doomy industrialism on ΨΥΧΟΒΓΑΛΤΗΣ. And even with the grindier bits dialed back, ΨΥΧΟΒΓΑΛΤΗΣA sounds like a bloodied blend of Anaal Nathrakh, Immolation, and Napalm Death sprinkled with an extra vitriolic dash o’ Nails. Evangelos Vasilakos crushes chests and eardrums with an onslaught of riffs full of brutish chugs, crusty sludge, and deathly density (“Existence is Punishment”). Drummer Robin Stone (Ashen Horde) brings the mutha-fuckin’ skulls to the yard with his rib-rattling, Anaal Nathrakhian double kick work, which often serves as a tempodic counterpoint to Evan’s wall of sound bass and guitar destruction (“We Shall Be Devoured by the Offspring of Our Own Flesh”). Topping off this sundae of fuck-off-fun-day decimation are the Mikael Åkerfeldtish vocals of Jokipii, whose roars and guttural growls bring an altogether beastlier edge to ΨΥΧΟΒΓΑΛΤΗΣ‘s throat work. Chestcrush will not make you feel good about yourself, nor will they have you looking hopefully into the future.

Speaking of hope, if not abandoned wholly before entering Chestcrush‘s world, it will be by the time “Every Single Word That Comes Out of Your Filthy Hole Is an Infectious Lie a Spreading Disease” invades your earholes. It is a punishing, anti-religious anthem full of chunky riffs, dissonant tremolos, Stone’s inhuman drumming, and Jokipii’s tortured growls and screams, prefaced by an ominous warning, ‘Until the last stone, from the last church, falls on the last priest.’ And as the screechy, staticky ending of “Hang Them! Torch Them!” gives way to the tolling bells of the sludgy behemoth and album closer, “As the Damned Writhe in Eternal Woe,” it is clear that Chestcrush hates us all. ΨΥΧΟΒΓΑΛΤΗΣ has no high points, no zenith; it is a cavalcade of sorrow, a series of nadirs plumbing depths subterranean of Dante’s seventh circle.

From the very Hellraiser-esque cover art courtesy of Vladimir Chebakov to the forty-minute runtime, Chestcrush‘s ΨΥΧΟΒΓΑΛΤΗΣ is infinitely more mature than its predecessor, Vthelygmia. I attribute this leap in maturation to two things. First, Chestcrush‘s songwriting has blossomed like a blackened rose, resulting in fully developed compositions that wend, wind, and weave within themselves, an ebb and flow of drama that casts a pall of abject hopelessness over the entire affair. Second, the addition of vocalist Topias Jokipii, whose beefier delivery and propensity to stay in his lower, more guttural register better fit Chestrcush‘s aural aesthetic. I have little in the way of criticism for ΨΥΧΟΒΓΑΛΤΗΣ, but there was something that stood out, which is a brief screech of feedback that rears its head throughout the album, mainly as an exclamation point. It works when employed to create an intersong dynamic (“Every Single Word…”), but it becomes grating when tacked on the end of nearly every track, sometimes twice (“We Shall Be Devoured…”).

Chestcrush has penned a dirge celebrating the death of humanity and is the human embodiment of existential hate. You’ll not be blasting ΨΥΧΟΒΓΑΛΤΗΣ poolside this summer, cracking beers and seltzers with your buddies and their wives, crisping flesh in the sun. Chestcrush is of darkness, despair, and destitution, and that is where ΨΥΧΟΒΓΑΛΤΗΣ will take you. I have committed several hours to ΨΥΧΟΒΓΑΛΤΗΣ in preparation for this review, and this time has left me spent, my jaw firmly wired shut, soul removed. I think I need to go and listen to some Fellowship now.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320kbps mp3
Label: Self-Released
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: April 4, 2025

#2025 #35 #AnaalNathrakh #Apr25 #BlackMetal #Chestcrush #DeathMetal #Immolation #Nails #NapalmDeath #Review #Reviews #ScottishMetal #Sludge #ΨΥΧΟΒΓΑΛΤΗΣ

Chestcrush – ΨΥΧΟΒΓΑΛΤΗΣ Review

By Tyme

Chestcrush is what happens when you fuck around and find out. These three blackened death dealers from Edinburgh, Scotland, formed in 2020, released their independent debut album, Vthelygmia, in 2021. That’s when Chestcrush caught my ear for the first time, penning one of my favorite songs, “Different Shepherd, Same Sheep.” After swapping original vocalist Thomas Blanc for Topias Jokipii, who debuted his wares on 2022’s Apechtheia EP, Chestcrush is back with its sophomore prüno-piss and vinegar-filled platter, ΨΥΧΟΒΓΑΛΤΗΣ. Translated from Greek to mean ‘soul extractor,’ ΨΥΧΟΒΓΑΛΤΗΣ metaphorically describes an experience or person that is so incredibly tormenting to you that it feels like it’s pulling your very soul out through your mouth. Will I need my jaw re-aligned after listening to ΨΥΧΟΒΓΑΛΤΗΣ, or is this dog just a toothless barker?

Chestcrush executes its misanthropic, anti-everything brand of nihilism by fusing blackened deathgrind with sludgy, doomy industrialism on ΨΥΧΟΒΓΑΛΤΗΣ. And even with the grindier bits dialed back, ΨΥΧΟΒΓΑΛΤΗΣA sounds like a bloodied blend of Anaal Nathrakh, Immolation, and Napalm Death sprinkled with an extra vitriolic dash o’ Nails. Evangelos Vasilakos crushes chests and eardrums with an onslaught of riffs full of brutish chugs, crusty sludge, and deathly density (“Existence is Punishment”). Drummer Robin Stone (Ashen Horde) brings the mutha-fuckin’ skulls to the yard with his rib-rattling, Anaal Nathrakhian double kick work, which often serves as a tempodic counterpoint to Evan’s wall of sound bass and guitar destruction (“We Shall Be Devoured by the Offspring of Our Own Flesh”). Topping off this sundae of fuck-off-fun-day decimation are the Mikael Åkerfeldtish vocals of Jokipii, whose roars and guttural growls bring an altogether beastlier edge to ΨΥΧΟΒΓΑΛΤΗΣ‘s throat work. Chestcrush will not make you feel good about yourself, nor will they have you looking hopefully into the future.

Speaking of hope, if not abandoned wholly before entering Chestcrush‘s world, it will be by the time “Every Single Word That Comes Out of Your Filthy Hole Is an Infectious Lie a Spreading Disease” invades your earholes. It is a punishing, anti-religious anthem full of chunky riffs, dissonant tremolos, Stone’s inhuman drumming, and Jokipii’s tortured growls and screams, prefaced by an ominous warning, ‘Until the last stone, from the last church, falls on the last priest.’ And as the screechy, staticky ending of “Hang Them! Torch Them!” gives way to the tolling bells of the sludgy behemoth and album closer, “As the Damned Writhe in Eternal Woe,” it is clear that Chestcrush hates us all. ΨΥΧΟΒΓΑΛΤΗΣ has no high points, no zenith; it is a cavalcade of sorrow, a series of nadirs plumbing depths subterranean of Dante’s seventh circle.

From the very Hellraiser-esque cover art courtesy of Vladimir Chebakov to the forty-minute runtime, Chestcrush‘s ΨΥΧΟΒΓΑΛΤΗΣ is infinitely more mature than its predecessor, Vthelygmia. I attribute this leap in maturation to two things. First, Chestcrush‘s songwriting has blossomed like a blackened rose, resulting in fully developed compositions that wend, wind, and weave within themselves, an ebb and flow of drama that casts a pall of abject hopelessness over the entire affair. Second, the addition of vocalist Topias Jokipii, whose beefier delivery and propensity to stay in his lower, more guttural register better fit Chestrcush‘s aural aesthetic. I have little in the way of criticism for ΨΥΧΟΒΓΑΛΤΗΣ, but there was something that stood out, which is a brief screech of feedback that rears its head throughout the album, mainly as an exclamation point. It works when employed to create an intersong dynamic (“Every Single Word…”), but it becomes grating when tacked on the end of nearly every track, sometimes twice (“We Shall Be Devoured…”).

Chestcrush has penned a dirge celebrating the death of humanity and is the human embodiment of existential hate. You’ll not be blasting ΨΥΧΟΒΓΑΛΤΗΣ poolside this summer, cracking beers and seltzers with your buddies and their wives, crisping flesh in the sun. Chestcrush is of darkness, despair, and destitution, and that is where ΨΥΧΟΒΓΑΛΤΗΣ will take you. I have committed several hours to ΨΥΧΟΒΓΑΛΤΗΣ in preparation for this review, and this time has left me spent, my jaw firmly wired shut, soul removed. I think I need to go and listen to some Fellowship now.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320kbps mp3
Label: Self-Released
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: April 4, 2025

#2025 #35 #AnaalNathrakh #Apr25 #BlackMetal #Chestcrush #DeathMetal #Immolation #Nails #NapalmDeath #Review #Reviews #ScottishMetal #Sludge #ΨΥΧΟΒΓΑΛΤΗΣ

Saor – Amidst the Ruins Review

By El Cuervo

A black metal nerd’s love for their country’s natural history is one of the purest loves in metal. Andy Marshall, now best known for Saor, is one of the world’s premier folk/black metal artists and writes music that harks to Scotland’s immense beauty and folkloric culture. Album six, entitled Amidst the Ruins, is now primed for unveiling and once more returns to the desolate highlands, glossy lochs, and misty glens that characterize the best of Scottish nature. With five full-length releases under Marshall’s belt between 2013 and 2022, and having written reviews for four of these, I was starting to find the impact of his work dulled, if only through sheer familiarity. Can Saor find something fresh amidst the ruins?

The album features a pivot back to the lengthier, grander compositions from earlier in Saor’s career after the comparative brevity and directness of Origins. The opening leads of the album exemplify how Saor straddle the fine line between potently heavy but also satisfyingly melodic, with the track extending for nearly 13 minutes. Emotionally, it finds that goldilocks zone of music – that’s somehow mournful, hopeful but also epic – in which the band excels. By contrast to the energetic opening minutes, the closing minutes of the record lean heavily into emotive impact. “Rebirth” forges a massive guitar and string harmonization, with layers of cleanly sung vocals, into an auditory demonstration of Scottish pride and heroism. These strains of black metal and stirring melodies are packaged in production that sounds appropriately heavy with robust bass, but which enables the piercing effect of the tremolo-picked guitars. It’s hard to imagine that a fan of folksy, melodic and/or atmospheric black metal wouldn’t appreciate something in the core Saor sound.

Despite the retreat towards lengthier songs, there’s a sophisticated, progressive edge to Amidst the Ruins that distinguishes it from earlier releases. “Echoes of the Ancient Land” immediately adopts a spikier song-writing approach, shuffling predictably fast riffs and unpredictably technical riffs across its opening 90 seconds. The guitars are more technical than you might expect from folksy black metal that ordinarily prioritizes emotive above cerebral impact. As the song develops, it becomes more intricate and dynamic, levering a variety of harmonies (between layers of guitars, guitars, vocals, guitars, and strings, etc) and a variety of instrumentation (uillean pipes, various whistles and strings). Although the core Saor sound remains comfortably familiar, it’s presented with more bells and whistles this time around. Similarly, Andy Marshall’s compositional prowess in integrating classical and folksy instrumentation has developed. On the title track, the abating heaviness around the mid-point exposes just a quiet guitar and a whistle that gradually layers with dancing strings and chugging guitars. The swelling composition, especially as it explodes into a memorable vocal refrain with the strings remaining behind, makes for an entrancing experience through the beautiful melodies and subtle instrumental details.

It all coalesces into the type of hypnotic effect you feel across the best atmo-black records, where the songs don’t feel quite as long as they are; contrasted by the worst atmo-black records that feel interminable. But perhaps Origins spoiled me given that it saw Saor playing with shorter songs that were a mite sharper. My principal complaint about the otherwise strong title track is that it continues for a further three minutes after the dramatic climax described above. The material remains enjoyable but it disrupts the song’s flow. Likewise, “The Sylvan Embrace” has an initial impact but is ultimately too long and repetitive. It’s intended as an acoustic interlude – and folksy metal can do this type of thing well – but the core guitar melody loops for seven minutes. The songs are scarcely longer than those at the pinnacle of the Saor discography but those overcame their ponderous length through consistent emotional intensity and immense payoffs. Amidst the Ruins also bears these qualities but to a slightly-lesser extent.

Although plainly produced by the same band producing a similar sound to other records in their discography, Amidst the Ruins stretches Saor in new and interesting ways. It may not be quite as emotionally arresting as the first few records – although this may well be the result of diminished novelty more than anything – but the songwriting and melodies remain highly engaging. Saor are perversely comforting to me, even on a release that would be intolerably heavy for 99% of the world’s music-loving population. Anyone with a mere passing interest in folksy black metal will undoubtedly glean much from Amidst the Ruins.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps MP3
Label: Season of Mist
Websites: facebook.com/saor | saor.bandcamp.com
Releases Worldwide: February 7th, 2025

#2025 #40 #AmidstTheRuins #BlackMetal #Feb25 #FolkMetal #Review #Reviews #Saor #ScottishMetal #SeasonOfMistRecords

Saor – Amidst the Ruins Review

By El Cuervo

A black metal nerd’s love for their country’s natural history is one of the purest loves in metal. Andy Marshall, now best known for Saor, is one of the world’s premier folk/black metal artists and writes music that harks to Scotland’s immense beauty and folkloric culture. Album six, entitled Amidst the Ruins, is now primed for unveiling and once more returns to the desolate highlands, glossy lochs, and misty glens that characterize the best of Scottish nature. With five full-length releases under Marshall’s belt between 2013 and 2022, and having written reviews for four of these, I was starting to find the impact of his work dulled, if only through sheer familiarity. Can Saor find something fresh amidst the ruins?

The album features a pivot back to the lengthier, grander compositions from earlier in Saor’s career after the comparative brevity and directness of Origins. The opening leads of the album exemplify how Saor straddle the fine line between potently heavy but also satisfyingly melodic, with the track extending for nearly 13 minutes. Emotionally, it finds that goldilocks zone of music – that’s somehow mournful, hopeful but also epic – in which the band excels. By contrast to the energetic opening minutes, the closing minutes of the record lean heavily into emotive impact. “Rebirth” forges a massive guitar and string harmonization, with layers of cleanly sung vocals, into an auditory demonstration of Scottish pride and heroism. These strains of black metal and stirring melodies are packaged in production that sounds appropriately heavy with robust bass, but which enables the piercing effect of the tremolo-picked guitars. It’s hard to imagine that a fan of folksy, melodic and/or atmospheric black metal wouldn’t appreciate something in the core Saor sound.

Despite the retreat towards lengthier songs, there’s a sophisticated, progressive edge to Amidst the Ruins that distinguishes it from earlier releases. “Echoes of the Ancient Land” immediately adopts a spikier song-writing approach, shuffling predictably fast riffs and unpredictably technical riffs across its opening 90 seconds. The guitars are more technical than you might expect from folksy black metal that ordinarily prioritizes emotive above cerebral impact. As the song develops, it becomes more intricate and dynamic, levering a variety of harmonies (between layers of guitars, guitars, vocals, guitars, and strings, etc) and a variety of instrumentation (uillean pipes, various whistles and strings). Although the core Saor sound remains comfortably familiar, it’s presented with more bells and whistles this time around. Similarly, Andy Marshall’s compositional prowess in integrating classical and folksy instrumentation has developed. On the title track, the abating heaviness around the mid-point exposes just a quiet guitar and a whistle that gradually layers with dancing strings and chugging guitars. The swelling composition, especially as it explodes into a memorable vocal refrain with the strings remaining behind, makes for an entrancing experience through the beautiful melodies and subtle instrumental details.

It all coalesces into the type of hypnotic effect you feel across the best atmo-black records, where the songs don’t feel quite as long as they are; contrasted by the worst atmo-black records that feel interminable. But perhaps Origins spoiled me given that it saw Saor playing with shorter songs that were a mite sharper. My principal complaint about the otherwise strong title track is that it continues for a further three minutes after the dramatic climax described above. The material remains enjoyable but it disrupts the song’s flow. Likewise, “The Sylvan Embrace” has an initial impact but is ultimately too long and repetitive. It’s intended as an acoustic interlude – and folksy metal can do this type of thing well – but the core guitar melody loops for seven minutes. The songs are scarcely longer than those at the pinnacle of the Saor discography but those overcame their ponderous length through consistent emotional intensity and immense payoffs. Amidst the Ruins also bears these qualities but to a slightly-lesser extent.

Although plainly produced by the same band producing a similar sound to other records in their discography, Amidst the Ruins stretches Saor in new and interesting ways. It may not be quite as emotionally arresting as the first few records – although this may well be the result of diminished novelty more than anything – but the songwriting and melodies remain highly engaging. Saor are perversely comforting to me, even on a release that would be intolerably heavy for 99% of the world’s music-loving population. Anyone with a mere passing interest in folksy black metal will undoubtedly glean much from Amidst the Ruins.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps MP3
Label: Season of Mist
Websites: facebook.com/saor | saor.bandcamp.com
Releases Worldwide: February 7th, 2025

#2025 #40 #AmidstTheRuins #BlackMetal #Feb25 #FolkMetal #Review #Reviews #Saor #ScottishMetal #SeasonOfMistRecords

A friend just sent me this and that breakdown near the end is giving me goosebumps! 🤘😱

▶️ Bleed From Within – In Place of Your Halo
https://youtube.com/watch?v=42-e9zFmgPA

#ScottishMetal #deathcore #MelodicDeathMetal #metalcore #metal

Tommy Concrete – Unrelapsed Review

By Ferox

Written By: Nameless_N00b_87

Scottish solo artist Tommy Concrete (aka Tomas Pattison) has a proclivity for creating music that is experimental, rebellious, and seldom boring. Since 2001, the avant-garde musician has self-produced a surplus of releases dipping into punk, progressive metal, doom, black metal, hardcore, industrial, and almost everything in between. 2021’s Hexenzirkel found the Scot experimenting with epic long-winded prog compositions á la Devin Townsend. It was received negatively by AMG’s resident Frog. Fast forward three years and Tommy is back to give it another go with his tenth full-length Unrelapsed,1 and this time he’s using blackened hardcore as a therapeutic means to cope with his struggles with addiction. Considering Tommy’s affinity for genre-hopping and complicating his music, I approached Unrelapsed with the hope that he had found a more focused sound.

Unrelapsed proves that old habits die hard. In typical Tommy fashion, the epic prog of Hexenzirkel has been napalmed by an eclectic mix of blackened hardcore that oscillates between industrial (“Anger”), black metal (“Denial”), thrash (“Ambivalent”), drum and bass (“Depression,” “Unrecognisable”) and even trip-hop (“Debt”).2 For Unrelapsed’s thirty minutes, Tommy blazes through twenty-two songs of short, emotionally violent arrangements that are frenzied and chaotic. Tommy’s guttural and dissonant vocals convey hostility (“Psycho”), anguish (“Relapse”), depression (“Blame”), and even desperation (“Lost”) as they drift over technically proficient—yet asymmetric—instrumentation that fuses Imperial Trimphant’s experimental chaos with The Locust’s breakneck fluctuations. Piercing drums—with enough snare to wake the dead—form the core of Tommy’s madness, sitting center stage in a peaking mix as the interplay of effects, subtle organ passages, and meandering guitars further amplify the intense emotions that beleaguered Tommy’s journey to sobriety. Together, these elements forge an intensely personal record rooted in adversity, reflection, and catharsis.

Intense and personal may be the point, because Unreleapsed is a whirlwind of chaos and disorder. Tracks like “Paranoia” and “Abandoned” arrive and disappear rapidly without any sense of direction. Many others barely hold any semblance of song structure before buckling under their own weight and crumbling into audible storms of phaser (“Lying”), odd noises (“Blackout”), wandering guitar (“Unrecognisable”) and hectic beats (“Depression”). And in the instances when Tommy manages to settle into a coherent song structure for longer than thirty seconds, he frequently derails everything with nomadic jazz fusion or psychedelic guitar noodling that drains Unrelapsed’s scant reserves of flow and momentum.

Accordingly, Unrelapsed is a difficult and toilsome listen that drove me to contemplate my exit within ten minutes of pressing play. Although Tommy Concrete’s performances show prowess and the underlying emotion is derived from real-life experience, the frenetic energy of the compositions, coupled with Tommy’s deeply personal themes, creates an overwhelming experience. While the potent one-two punch of Unrelapsed’s themes and its avant-garde assembly should be a strength, they become too overpowering too quickly, leaving me feeling frayed and confused instead of appreciating Tommy’s authenticity and creativity. Tommy’s choice to remain self-produced was also dicey but, ironically, the album’s production may be its saving grace. Yes, the drums are overpowering and everything is way too loud, but the mix is balanced and adds some much-needed depth and complexity to Unrelapsed’s sonic onslaught.

Unrelapsed offers a cathartic exploration of addiction and little else. It’s a chaotic and fragmented frenzy that quickly exhausted me by its lack of cohesion, overwhelming pace, and constant sensory overload. At the same time, however, Unrelapsed mirrors a struggle that many have endured but few can comprehend, and I genuinely hope Tomas found solace in its creation. Perhaps that alone should be deserving of a higher score. But the fact remains that Unrelapsed is plagued by persistent troubles— both old and new— and will only resonate with those who have a high tolerance for disorder and raw emotional expression.

Rating: 1.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Howling Invocations
Websites: tommyconcrete.bandcamp.com | instagram.com/TommyConcrete
Releases Worldwide: November 1, 2024

#10 #2024 #BlackenedHardcore #DevinTownsend #Hardcore #HowlingInvocations #ImperialTriumphant #Nov24 #Review #Reviews #ScottishMetal #TheLocust #TommyConcrete

Tommy Concrete – Unrelapsed Review

By Ferox

Written By: Nameless_N00b_87

Scottish solo artist Tommy Concrete (aka Tomas Pattison) has a proclivity for creating music that is experimental, rebellious, and seldom boring. Since 2001, the avant-garde musician has self-produced a surplus of releases dipping into punk, progressive metal, doom, black metal, hardcore, industrial, and almost everything in between. 2021’s Hexenzirkel found the Scot experimenting with epic long-winded prog compositions á la Devin Townsend. It was received negatively by AMG’s resident Frog. Fast forward three years and Tommy is back to give it another go with his tenth full-length Unrelapsed,1 and this time he’s using blackened hardcore as a therapeutic means to cope with his struggles with addiction. Considering Tommy’s affinity for genre-hopping and complicating his music, I approached Unrelapsed with the hope that he had found a more focused sound.

Unrelapsed proves that old habits die hard. In typical Tommy fashion, the epic prog of Hexenzirkel has been napalmed by an eclectic mix of blackened hardcore that oscillates between industrial (“Anger”), black metal (“Denial”), thrash (“Ambivalent”), drum and bass (“Depression,” “Unrecognisable”) and even trip-hop (“Debt”).2 For Unrelapsed’s thirty minutes, Tommy blazes through twenty-two songs of short, emotionally violent arrangements that are frenzied and chaotic. Tommy’s guttural and dissonant vocals convey hostility (“Psycho”), anguish (“Relapse”), depression (“Blame”), and even desperation (“Lost”) as they drift over technically proficient—yet asymmetric—instrumentation that fuses Imperial Trimphant’s experimental chaos with The Locust’s breakneck fluctuations. Piercing drums—with enough snare to wake the dead—form the core of Tommy’s madness, sitting center stage in a peaking mix as the interplay of effects, subtle organ passages, and meandering guitars further amplify the intense emotions that beleaguered Tommy’s journey to sobriety. Together, these elements forge an intensely personal record rooted in adversity, reflection, and catharsis.

Intense and personal may be the point, because Unreleapsed is a whirlwind of chaos and disorder. Tracks like “Paranoia” and “Abandoned” arrive and disappear rapidly without any sense of direction. Many others barely hold any semblance of song structure before buckling under their own weight and crumbling into audible storms of phaser (“Lying”), odd noises (“Blackout”), wandering guitar (“Unrecognisable”) and hectic beats (“Depression”). And in the instances when Tommy manages to settle into a coherent song structure for longer than thirty seconds, he frequently derails everything with nomadic jazz fusion or psychedelic guitar noodling that drains Unrelapsed’s scant reserves of flow and momentum.

Accordingly, Unrelapsed is a difficult and toilsome listen that drove me to contemplate my exit within ten minutes of pressing play. Although Tommy Concrete’s performances show prowess and the underlying emotion is derived from real-life experience, the frenetic energy of the compositions, coupled with Tommy’s deeply personal themes, creates an overwhelming experience. While the potent one-two punch of Unrelapsed’s themes and its avant-garde assembly should be a strength, they become too overpowering too quickly, leaving me feeling frayed and confused instead of appreciating Tommy’s authenticity and creativity. Tommy’s choice to remain self-produced was also dicey but, ironically, the album’s production may be its saving grace. Yes, the drums are overpowering and everything is way too loud, but the mix is balanced and adds some much-needed depth and complexity to Unrelapsed’s sonic onslaught.

Unrelapsed offers a cathartic exploration of addiction and little else. It’s a chaotic and fragmented frenzy that quickly exhausted me by its lack of cohesion, overwhelming pace, and constant sensory overload. At the same time, however, Unrelapsed mirrors a struggle that many have endured but few can comprehend, and I genuinely hope Tomas found solace in its creation. Perhaps that alone should be deserving of a higher score. But the fact remains that Unrelapsed is plagued by persistent troubles— both old and new— and will only resonate with those who have a high tolerance for disorder and raw emotional expression.

Rating: 1.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Howling Invocations
Websites: tommyconcrete.bandcamp.com | instagram.com/TommyConcrete
Releases Worldwide: November 1, 2024

#10 #2024 #BlackenedHardcore #DevinTownsend #Hardcore #HowlingInvocations #ImperialTriumphant #Nov24 #Review #Reviews #ScottishMetal #TheLocust #TommyConcrete

Hand of Kalliach – Corryvreckan Review

By Eldritch Elitist

I loathe the unspoken limitations of genre qualifiers. I am telling you right now that I’m presenting you with a specimen of melodic death/folk metal. As you read that phrase, your brain probably immediately jumped to Ensiferum. I can’t say I blame you, as Ensiferum was one of the first and arguably the best at hybridizing melodeath and folk music. But that same presumption might lead your expectations towards Hand of Kalliach astray. A Scottish husband and wife duo, Hand of Kalliach is self-described as melodic death metal that is interwoven with Celtic and Gaelic folk music and has been making wholly distinct music defying implied genre confines since 2020. Their yet-brief existence has already spawned an independent EP and LP, and now a sophomore full-length under the Prosthetic Records banner. Swift underground successes and unique sonic signifiers are all well and good, but when it comes to Corryvreckan, does innovation translate to a worthwhile listen?

To some of those expecting more traditional melodeath thrills, the answer may well be “no.” Yet as someone who traditionally prefers melodeath when it sticks to the hits, my answer is nonetheless a resounding “fuck yes.” Hand of Kalliach plays what I can best describe as atmospheric melodic death metal—hammer-on licks dance with crunchy, utilitarian death metal riffs amidst backdrops of ethereal vocals, to borderline hypnotic effect. If I allow myself a crumb of reductiveness, this approach sounds like a hybrid of Amon Amarth’s instrumentation and Sojourner’s spellbinding, Summoning-adjacent aesthetic. Hand of Kalliach nailed this approach with 2021’s Samhainn, and Corryvreckan enshrines the formula as well as any sophomore record ever has. Its writing feels tighter, song-to-song quality is more consistent, and in general, it gives me exactly what I wanted coming off of the preceding Samhainn: more.

While Corryvreckan provides exactly what I hoped, I can’t deny its potential for further refinement. This record may excel through consistency, but in retrospect, Samhainn had brighter highlights. That record’s best songs (“Beneath Starlit Waters” and “Each Uisge”) remain Hand of Kalliach’s most ambitious; Corryvreckan’s “Three Seas” and “Of Twilight and the Pyre” aim for similarly lofty heights, but take a bit too long getting to the point. Corryvreckan’s strengths, then, lie in its short-form material. “Deathless” and “The Cauldron” are masterfully condensed attacks at three minutes apiece, with the former’s knuckle-dragging, fighting game-ready riffs making it my favorite cut of the record. If those superficial thrills were spliced with Samhainn’s towering epics, Corryvreckan could have been the superior record. As-is, I find the two records on equal footing, with differing areas of specialization.

Much of what makes Hand of Kalliach so compelling lies in the contrasting vocal talents of Sophie and John Fraser. The former’s airy, Celtic folk-derived melodies imbue the proceedings with a downright mystical quality, while the latter’s full-throated death metal roars add a significant edge to the already substantial core execution. Together, they make one of the best “beauty and beast” vocal duos I’ve heard. While the vocals are typically lauded as one of Hand of Kalliach’s primary strengths, their engineering jobs are more divisive. Though sorely lacking in dynamism, I kinda love the way this record sounds. Its melodies feel grounded in landscapes and myth, and yet the drums and guitars feel unapologetically synthetic, with the latter’s blunt, sawing tones giving the record a nearly industrial metal vibe. This dichotomy of nature and electricity adds yet another intriguing wrinkle to an already fascinating soundscape.

Bands like Hand of Kalliach are vital to the metal ecosystem, those acts that take a somewhat avant-garde approach in style and songcraft while simultaneously delivering traditional immediacy and pure aggression. I have minor nitpicks with their songwriting – primarily, I wish they’d learn how to end songs in ways that don’t involve an abrupt cutoff – but I remain content, yet ever-curious about how the Frasers’ singular project will evolve going forward. Since I first heard Samhainn, I’ve believed that Hand of Kalliach has a masterpiece tucked away within their craft that will inevitably be unlocked by time and resilience. Corryvreckan may not be revelatory, but it is still a vital step in Hand of Kalliach’s creative journey and solidifies them as one of the most exciting metal bands working today.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Prosthetic Records | Bandcamp
Websites: handofkalliach.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/handofkalliach | twitter.com/HKalliach
Releases Worldwide: February 23rd, 2024

#2024 #35 #AmonAmarth #Corryvreckan #Ensiferum #Feb24 #FolkMetal #HandOfKalliach #MelodicDeathMetal #Review #Reviews #ScottishMetal #Sojourner #Summoning

Hand of Kalliach – Corryvreckan Review

By Eldritch Elitist

I loathe the unspoken limitations of genre qualifiers. I am telling you right now that I’m presenting you with a specimen of melodic death/folk metal. As you read that phrase, your brain probably immediately jumped to Ensiferum. I can’t say I blame you, as Ensiferum was one of the first and arguably the best at hybridizing melodeath and folk music. But that same presumption might lead your expectations towards Hand of Kalliach astray. A Scottish husband and wife duo, Hand of Kalliach is self-described as melodic death metal that is interwoven with Celtic and Gaelic folk music and has been making wholly distinct music defying implied genre confines since 2020. Their yet-brief existence has already spawned an independent EP and LP, and now a sophomore full-length under the Prosthetic Records banner. Swift underground successes and unique sonic signifiers are all well and good, but when it comes to Corryvreckan, does innovation translate to a worthwhile listen?

To some of those expecting more traditional melodeath thrills, the answer may well be “no.” Yet as someone who traditionally prefers melodeath when it sticks to the hits, my answer is nonetheless a resounding “fuck yes.” Hand of Kalliach plays what I can best describe as atmospheric melodic death metal—hammer-on licks dance with crunchy, utilitarian death metal riffs amidst backdrops of ethereal vocals, to borderline hypnotic effect. If I allow myself a crumb of reductiveness, this approach sounds like a hybrid of Amon Amarth’s instrumentation and Sojourner’s spellbinding, Summoning-adjacent aesthetic. Hand of Kalliach nailed this approach with 2021’s Samhainn, and Corryvreckan enshrines the formula as well as any sophomore record ever has. Its writing feels tighter, song-to-song quality is more consistent, and in general, it gives me exactly what I wanted coming off of the preceding Samhainn: more.

While Corryvreckan provides exactly what I hoped, I can’t deny its potential for further refinement. This record may excel through consistency, but in retrospect, Samhainn had brighter highlights. That record’s best songs (“Beneath Starlit Waters” and “Each Uisge”) remain Hand of Kalliach’s most ambitious; Corryvreckan’s “Three Seas” and “Of Twilight and the Pyre” aim for similarly lofty heights, but take a bit too long getting to the point. Corryvreckan’s strengths, then, lie in its short-form material. “Deathless” and “The Cauldron” are masterfully condensed attacks at three minutes apiece, with the former’s knuckle-dragging, fighting game-ready riffs making it my favorite cut of the record. If those superficial thrills were spliced with Samhainn’s towering epics, Corryvreckan could have been the superior record. As-is, I find the two records on equal footing, with differing areas of specialization.

Much of what makes Hand of Kalliach so compelling lies in the contrasting vocal talents of Sophie and John Fraser. The former’s airy, Celtic folk-derived melodies imbue the proceedings with a downright mystical quality, while the latter’s full-throated death metal roars add a significant edge to the already substantial core execution. Together, they make one of the best “beauty and beast” vocal duos I’ve heard. While the vocals are typically lauded as one of Hand of Kalliach’s primary strengths, their engineering jobs are more divisive. Though sorely lacking in dynamism, I kinda love the way this record sounds. Its melodies feel grounded in landscapes and myth, and yet the drums and guitars feel unapologetically synthetic, with the latter’s blunt, sawing tones giving the record a nearly industrial metal vibe. This dichotomy of nature and electricity adds yet another intriguing wrinkle to an already fascinating soundscape.

Bands like Hand of Kalliach are vital to the metal ecosystem, those acts that take a somewhat avant-garde approach in style and songcraft while simultaneously delivering traditional immediacy and pure aggression. I have minor nitpicks with their songwriting – primarily, I wish they’d learn how to end songs in ways that don’t involve an abrupt cutoff – but I remain content, yet ever-curious about how the Frasers’ singular project will evolve going forward. Since I first heard Samhainn, I’ve believed that Hand of Kalliach has a masterpiece tucked away within their craft that will inevitably be unlocked by time and resilience. Corryvreckan may not be revelatory, but it is still a vital step in Hand of Kalliach’s creative journey and solidifies them as one of the most exciting metal bands working today.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Prosthetic Records | Bandcamp
Websites: handofkalliach.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/handofkalliach | twitter.com/HKalliach
Releases Worldwide: February 23rd, 2024

#2024 #35 #AmonAmarth #Corryvreckan #Ensiferum #Feb24 #FolkMetal #HandOfKalliach #MelodicDeathMetal #Review #Reviews #ScottishMetal #Sojourner #Summoning