#self-released — Public Fediverse posts

Walg appeared out of nowhere in 2021 with a debut filled with tenacious riffs, creative melodies, and impassioned performances. They have attained a sort of cult status in the years since—not quite widely known, but fiercely beloved by their fans. Their energetic fervor has swept up a few writers here at AMG, including Gardenstale, Grin Reaper, and me.1 Walg have been prolific since their debut, releasing one album per year—sometimes there’s just no stopping the creative juices from flowing. On the flip side, such a prolific release schedule risks snuffing out the candle of passion by falling into the trap of formulaic songwriting. Walg continue to conjure that amazing, infectious energy, but once you’ve heard it 3 or 4 or 5 times, it’s difficult to create that original magic. So what will it be for this sixth go-around? Will the bellows continue to feed the flames of passion, or have the flames dwindled to mere embers?

On VI, Walg still tenaciously cling to the passion that drove them on their debut. “Nevel” starts things off with your typical Walg guitar lead—energetic and catchy as hell. Subtle symphonics enhance the music and bring their style of meloblack closer to the likes of Dimmu Borgir, Old Man’s Child, and …And Oceans. Yet Walg also sound fiercely like their own beast. VI does have a slightly different vibe compared to the earlier records; it’s missing those spontaneous moments of sudden passionate melodicism that surprised and delighted on prior records. The tunes here feel more deliberately crafted and controlled. A tenacity on past works has given way to a little more restraint. Of course, they still play with hunger and deliver many exceptional melodies. They also pause more frequently for moments of quieter beauty, as on “1597” when Robert Koning sings his plaintive cleans amidst some gentle tremolos.

That Walg wildness still remains, though, and it largely comes out in the vocal performance of Yorick Keijzer. He snarls and rasps like a wounded animal. While his deranged delivery gives the impression of a record careening out of control, there’s a method to his madness. His cadence sometimes brings to mind that of Maurice Wilson (Antrisch), and it adds a distinctive character to the heart and soul of the music. While the songs themselves have more constrained structures to offset Yorick’s wildness, there is one exception. The six-minute “De Eenlonkster” is an uncaged beast that is among Walg’s most creative. From arpeggios and riffs with a country twang, to a gently sung portion accompanied by the sound of lapping waves, to a brief moment when it nearly dives into death-doom territory, “De Eenlonkster” kicks and bucks, leaving you with whiplash and a purple bruise around your eye, but you’ll be grinning, missing teeth and all, when the tune rolls to its end.

Having written dozens of songs in the six years of their existence, it’s safe to wonder if Walg are running out of ideas, especially when they deliver, at 34 minutes and 8 songs, their shortest album to date. And yet they have meticulously crafted something fabulous, still full of the Walg zeal and spark. It’s true, though, as Gardenstale pointed out in his review of V, that the veneer of their formula is starting to wear thin. There’s a sense of déjà vu when a band releases material so frequently and consistently. On VI’s weaker tracks on the back half of the record, “Stil Geboren” and “De Nacht Behoort On Allen Toes” (which are still plenty fun), the repetition is more obvious than on other tracks. The back half does have a couple of winners, however. “Het Klooster Van Ter Apel” has some creative percussion work along with a sweet riff line, while “Erfvloek” takes a more subdued route with a beautiful trem melody that provides VI a rather lovely conclusion.

My journey with VI contained moments of ups and downs. Admittedly, my initial spins left it wanting—something felt different that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. Eventually, however, it clicked, and I began to again appreciate Walg’s songwriting magic. There’s a duet here between a gentle beauty and repellent wildness. Walg still sound like Walg, yet there’s a subtle evolution. They have managed to craft a very enjoyable record, and this brief package shows that Walg remain a wrecking ball force of nature in the realm of melodic black metal. However, one can hope they’re able to take a further step in their evolution on the follow-up to VI—VII.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: N/A | Format Reviewed: Stream
Label: Self-Released
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: June 26th, 2026

Walg appeared out of nowhere in 2021 with a debut filled with tenacious riffs, creative melodies, and impassioned performances. They have attained a sort of cult status in the years since—not quite widely known, but fiercely beloved by their fans. Their energetic fervor has swept up a few writers here at AMG, including Gardenstale, Grin Reaper, and me.1 Walg have been prolific since their debut, releasing one album per year—sometimes there’s just no stopping the creative juices from flowing. On the flip side, such a prolific release schedule risks snuffing out the candle of passion by falling into the trap of formulaic songwriting. Walg continue to conjure that amazing, infectious energy, but once you’ve heard it 3 or 4 or 5 times, it’s difficult to create that original magic. So what will it be for this sixth go-around? Will the bellows continue to feed the flames of passion, or have the flames dwindled to mere embers?

On VI, Walg still tenaciously cling to the passion that drove them on their debut. “Nevel” starts things off with your typical Walg guitar lead—energetic and catchy as hell. Subtle symphonics enhance the music and bring their style of meloblack closer to the likes of Dimmu Borgir, Old Man’s Child, and …And Oceans. Yet Walg also sound fiercely like their own beast. VI does have a slightly different vibe compared to the earlier records; it’s missing those spontaneous moments of sudden passionate melodicism that surprised and delighted on prior records. The tunes here feel more deliberately crafted and controlled. A tenacity on past works has given way to a little more restraint. Of course, they still play with hunger and deliver many exceptional melodies. They also pause more frequently for moments of quieter beauty, as on “1597” when Robert Koning sings his plaintive cleans amidst some gentle tremolos.

That Walg wildness still remains, though, and it largely comes out in the vocal performance of Yorick Keijzer. He snarls and rasps like a wounded animal. While his deranged delivery gives the impression of a record careening out of control, there’s a method to his madness. His cadence sometimes brings to mind that of Maurice Wilson (Antrisch), and it adds a distinctive character to the heart and soul of the music. While the songs themselves have more constrained structures to offset Yorick’s wildness, there is one exception. The six-minute “De Eenlonkster” is an uncaged beast that is among Walg’s most creative. From arpeggios and riffs with a country twang, to a gently sung portion accompanied by the sound of lapping waves, to a brief moment when it nearly dives into death-doom territory, “De Eenlonkster” kicks and bucks, leaving you with whiplash and a purple bruise around your eye, but you’ll be grinning, missing teeth and all, when the tune rolls to its end.

Having written dozens of songs in the six years of their existence, it’s safe to wonder if Walg are running out of ideas, especially when they deliver, at 34 minutes and 8 songs, their shortest album to date. And yet they have meticulously crafted something fabulous, still full of the Walg zeal and spark. It’s true, though, as Gardenstale pointed out in his review of V, that the veneer of their formula is starting to wear thin. There’s a sense of déjà vu when a band releases material so frequently and consistently. On VI’s weaker tracks on the back half of the record, “Stil Geboren” and “De Nacht Behoort On Allen Toes” (which are still plenty fun), the repetition is more obvious than on other tracks. The back half does have a couple of winners, however. “Het Klooster Van Ter Apel” has some creative percussion work along with a sweet riff line, while “Erfvloek” takes a more subdued route with a beautiful trem melody that provides VI a rather lovely conclusion.

My journey with VI contained moments of ups and downs. Admittedly, my initial spins left it wanting—something felt different that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. Eventually, however, it clicked, and I began to again appreciate Walg’s songwriting magic. There’s a duet here between a gentle beauty and repellent wildness. Walg still sound like Walg, yet there’s a subtle evolution. They have managed to craft a very enjoyable record, and this brief package shows that Walg remain a wrecking ball force of nature in the realm of melodic black metal. However, one can hope they’re able to take a further step in their evolution on the follow-up to VI—VII.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: N/A | Format Reviewed: Stream
Label: Self-Released
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: June 26th, 2026

All We Need is the first single from Louis Baker's forthcoming self-released album, Trouble. #music #louisbaker #allweneed #trouble #selfreleased

https://evl.one/all-we-need-with-louis-baker

When it comes to discerning the difference between doom and stoner metal, I subscribe to the Ned Flanders school of thought. While doom tends towards darker atmospheres at a slower pace, stoner metal generally grooves with a chiller vibe. Now, there are (at least two) exceptions, and it gets kind of tricky, one of which is the compound stoner-doom genre. This label nicely fits Druidess, who have become a staple of the UK doom and stoner scenes since the release of their 2024 EP, Hermits and Mandrakes. Two years later, this Newcastle upon Tyne quartet has finally dropped its independently-released debut LP, Trip Meadow. Whether a British stoner-doom scenester or a newcomer, you’re surely wondering whether Druidess’s musical trip feels like strolling through a meadow or slogging through a jungle.

Druidess travel through the crevices of Mount Doom and the streets of Stonerville, but they also haunt the alleys of Psychedelphia. Guitarist Daniel Downing powers this English engine, doling out an array of Sabbathian riffs that brood, gallop, and descend, often in the same song (“A Forest Witch’s Daughter”). Beneath Downing is drummer Sam Armstrong, who hits hard but sprinkles in peppery jazz accents, keeping things rhythmically dynamic (“Descended from Giants”). The highlight, however, is vocalist Shonagh Brown, who knows how to hold a straightforward verse and develop a sticky chorus (“Knightingales”). Brown claims Joan Jett (The Runaways) as a major influence, but I also hear Laura Donnelly (King Witch) in her penchant for effortless power.1 Draping Druidess’s stoner-doom core in a psychedelic haze is keyboardist James Hill, whose organ plinks owe a debt of gratitude to The Doors while recalling a contemporary band like Green Lung. If the presence of organ sounds insufficiently psychedelic, then you’ll be glad to hear that a saxophone occasionally moans melancholic melodies2 (“Trip Meadow,” “A Witches’ Sabbath”). Aesthetically and performance-wise, Trip Meadow brings home the goods.

The songwriting, however, sometimes sails the Inconsistent Sea. The songs hovering around 4 minutes deliver memorable jolts of Iommian riffs and Jettian choruses (“Mandragora,” “The Hermit of Druid’s Temple”). Even when Druidess expand to the 6–7 minute range, they usually do a good job balancing subdued excursions and tempo shifts with solid songcraft (“The Forest Witch’s Daughter,” “A Witches’ Sabbath”). A few tracks, however, could’ve definitely been pared down, the major example being the 10-minute title track. “Trip Meadow” opens with a sultry saxophone groove before reducing to an ominous organ line obliterated by a crushing doom riff. From there, it takes too long for the song to get to its good (not great) chorus. At around the 8-minute mark, however, Druidess goes off on gothic riff variations, variations that would’ve hit even harder were they to have come sooner.

I must also mention that Trip Meadow shares much in common with Druidess’s previous jaunt. Five of the album’s seven songs, in fact, appear on the Hermits and Mandrakes EP. Druidess does sonically improve these cuts for Trip Meadow, especially the vocal mix. Whereas Brown sits awkwardly atop the band on the EP, her voice feels prominent but porous on the LP, commingling with the fuzzy guitar tones while still carrying the tunes. It is disappointing, however, that roughly 70 percent of the material here exists on another release. The two new songs, though quite good, are not the strongest material on display. As discussed, “Trip Meadow” embodies enormous potential only partly realized. Meanwhile, “Descended from Giants” contains mighty fine bass-work, a neat pseudo-breakdown, and killer concluding wails, but it also retreads ground already covered.

Trip Meadow trips in a few ways, but ultimately, it’s a trip worth taking. If you’re already familiar with the Hermits and Mandrakes EP, the debut LP will probably feel like a tedious (albeit sonically improved) trek through well-worn terrain. If you’re like I was, however, ignorant of the EP and desiring of quality stoner-doom, then you should definitely take a stroll through Druidess’s comforting meadow of fuzzed-out riffs and fantastic vocals. At 41 minutes, Trip Meadow gets away with its redundancies because it sounds so good. If subsequent musical adventures tighten the songwriting while exploring experimentation under a cozy psych aesthetic, Druidess may find Greatness as a future destination.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Self-Release
Websites: Instagram | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: June 26th, 2026

When it comes to discerning the difference between doom and stoner metal, I subscribe to the Ned Flanders school of thought. While doom tends towards darker atmospheres at a slower pace, stoner metal generally grooves with a chiller vibe. Now, there are (at least two) exceptions, and it gets kind of tricky, one of which is the compound stoner-doom genre. This label nicely fits Druidess, who have become a staple of the UK doom and stoner scenes since the release of their 2024 EP, Hermits and Mandrakes. Two years later, this Newcastle upon Tyne quartet has finally dropped its independently-released debut LP, Trip Meadow. Whether a British stoner-doom scenester or a newcomer, you’re surely wondering whether Druidess’s musical trip feels like strolling through a meadow or slogging through a jungle.

Druidess travel through the crevices of Mount Doom and the streets of Stonerville, but they also haunt the alleys of Psychedelphia. Guitarist Daniel Downing powers this English engine, doling out an array of Sabbathian riffs that brood, gallop, and descend, often in the same song (“A Forest Witch’s Daughter”). Beneath Downing is drummer Sam Armstrong, who hits hard but sprinkles in peppery jazz accents, keeping things rhythmically dynamic (“Descended from Giants”). The highlight, however, is vocalist Shonagh Brown, who knows how to hold a straightforward verse and develop a sticky chorus (“Knightingales”). Brown claims Joan Jett (The Runaways) as a major influence, but I also hear Laura Donnelly (King Witch) in her penchant for effortless power.1 Draping Druidess’s stoner-doom core in a psychedelic haze is keyboardist James Hill, whose organ plinks owe a debt of gratitude to The Doors while recalling a contemporary band like Green Lung. If the presence of organ sounds insufficiently psychedelic, then you’ll be glad to hear that a saxophone occasionally moans melancholic melodies2 (“Trip Meadow,” “A Witches’ Sabbath”). Aesthetically and performance-wise, Trip Meadow brings home the goods.

The songwriting, however, sometimes sails the Inconsistent Sea. The songs hovering around 4 minutes deliver memorable jolts of Iommian riffs and Jettian choruses (“Mandragora,” “The Hermit of Druid’s Temple”). Even when Druidess expand to the 6–7 minute range, they usually do a good job balancing subdued excursions and tempo shifts with solid songcraft (“The Forest Witch’s Daughter,” “A Witches’ Sabbath”). A few tracks, however, could’ve definitely been pared down, the major example being the 10-minute title track. “Trip Meadow” opens with a sultry saxophone groove before reducing to an ominous organ line obliterated by a crushing doom riff. From there, it takes too long for the song to get to its good (not great) chorus. At around the 8-minute mark, however, Druidess goes off on gothic riff variations, variations that would’ve hit even harder were they to have come sooner.

I must also mention that Trip Meadow shares much in common with Druidess’s previous jaunt. Five of the album’s seven songs, in fact, appear on the Hermits and Mandrakes EP. Druidess does sonically improve these cuts for Trip Meadow, especially the vocal mix. Whereas Brown sits awkwardly atop the band on the EP, her voice feels prominent but porous on the LP, commingling with the fuzzy guitar tones while still carrying the tunes. It is disappointing, however, that roughly 70 percent of the material here exists on another release. The two new songs, though quite good, are not the strongest material on display. As discussed, “Trip Meadow” embodies enormous potential only partly realized. Meanwhile, “Descended from Giants” contains mighty fine bass-work, a neat pseudo-breakdown, and killer concluding wails, but it also retreads ground already covered.

Trip Meadow trips in a few ways, but ultimately, it’s a trip worth taking. If you’re already familiar with the Hermits and Mandrakes EP, the debut LP will probably feel like a tedious (albeit sonically improved) trek through well-worn terrain. If you’re like I was, however, ignorant of the EP and desiring of quality stoner-doom, then you should definitely take a stroll through Druidess’s comforting meadow of fuzzed-out riffs and fantastic vocals. At 41 minutes, Trip Meadow gets away with its redundancies because it sounds so good. If subsequent musical adventures tighten the songwriting while exploring experimentation under a cozy psych aesthetic, Druidess may find Greatness as a future destination.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Self-Release
Websites: Instagram | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: June 26th, 2026

After 18 years and five full-length albums as frontman to The Lion’s Daughter, Rick Giordano decided “the daughter had to die so that the mother could live.” If that sounds morbid, it’s on purpose, as Giordano’s new project, Blood Mother,1 offers itself as a “score to your own personal horror film.” In forming this new project, Giordano further forges his musical independence, having previously divorced his music from the confines of a label (Season of Mist) for 2023’s Bath House. This allows him to create music that doesn’t fit neatly into any one category, and it makes sense that Blood Mother play an unconventional genre: post-metal. The question looms on Blood Mother’s self-titled debut whether Giordano is able to achieve success on his own terms.

Blood Mother hits plenty of experimental beats, blending atmospheric elements with bouts of impressive riffs. An early guitar riff on “Bonecanter” scratches the Kyuss itch, and his simple yet catchy approach to riffcraft shows up time and again throughout the record. Blood Mother keeps the songwriting simple, but it’s far from boring. Some of the riff-heavy portions sound reminiscent of The Lion’s Daughter, but Blood Mother is less heavy and less industrial. Giordano plays with guitar tones, mixing up sleek riffs, acoustic arpeggios (“Trail of Screaming Dead”), and plenty of heavy reverb à la Cult of Luna (“The Night Fires,” “The Wound of Heaven”). It’s not all about riffs, however. Blood Mother incorporate plenty of atmospheric techniques, including synths, to set up eerie, sometimes sinister moods—”The Night Fires” perfectly encapsulates this approach, beginning with unsettling synths before easing into an energetic pace. Natural sounds also make their way into the music, with crickets chirping at the start and end of “The Night Fires,” and birds and monkeys calling out on “The Wound of Heaven.” These flourishes add subtle touches to the sense of unease bubbling beneath the surface.

Giordano proves an adept songwriter, composing music that patiently builds up to a climax and tells a story. Blood Mother masterfully set the mood, be that the eeriness of “The Night Fires” or the Western, Wayfarer-esque feel of “Lost in Thunder.” But he also realizes mood isn’t enough, and that’s where the riff comes in, not to mention some impressive drumming from Ramsier. On the masterful “Trail of Screaming Dead,” Blood Mother methodically builds upon itself, beginning with organs, then jumping into lively drums and riffs, slowly adding new elements until some memorable tremolos bring the song to a conclusion. The music feels like gritty poetry, and the lyrics reflect this, written in poetic form and performed artistically in Giordano’s husky growls.

At just over 30 minutes, Blood Mother is a morsel rather than a full feast, and its conclusion leaves it somewhat wanting. Of the six songs that comprise that runtime, five of them are terrific pieces that eschew traditional structures, filling up spaces with music that can be thoughtful, deliberate, and sometimes exciting. On occasion, Blood Mother make some odd choices, such as synths in the final minute of “The Night Fires” that are deliberately jarring as they switch from one speaker to the other. Yet it’s the record’s finale, “Pulled Apart,” that doesn’t quite hold a light to the tracks that precede it. It still contains great ideas, including some nifty riffs and kitwork, but also some noises that just don’t blend into the music very well. It’s the one tune that doesn’t quite hit as hard as the others, and the concluding fade-out ends Blood Mother on an anticlimactic disappearing act.

For me, this was the perfect promo to match my mood. I wanted something that entertained without being formulaic. I wanted something that didn’t hit the usual beats, but wasn’t too weird. Blood Mother checks all those boxes. Sure, Giordano may have a few kinks to work out, but for a first-time striking it out (mostly) on his own, this is a pretty remarkable record, one that’s full of surprises and nuances that make for rewarding repeat listens.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Self-Released
Website: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: June 19th, 2026

After 18 years and five full-length albums as frontman to The Lion’s Daughter, Rick Giordano decided “the daughter had to die so that the mother could live.” If that sounds morbid, it’s on purpose, as Giordano’s new project, Blood Mother,1 offers itself as a “score to your own personal horror film.” In forming this new project, Giordano further forges his musical independence, having previously divorced his music from the confines of a label (Season of Mist) for 2023’s Bath House. This allows him to create music that doesn’t fit neatly into any one category, and it makes sense that Blood Mother play an unconventional genre: post-metal. The question looms on Blood Mother’s self-titled debut whether Giordano is able to achieve success on his own terms.

Blood Mother hits plenty of experimental beats, blending atmospheric elements with bouts of impressive riffs. An early guitar riff on “Bonecanter” scratches the Kyuss itch, and his simple yet catchy approach to riffcraft shows up time and again throughout the record. Blood Mother keeps the songwriting simple, but it’s far from boring. Some of the riff-heavy portions sound reminiscent of The Lion’s Daughter, but Blood Mother is less heavy and less industrial. Giordano plays with guitar tones, mixing up sleek riffs, acoustic arpeggios (“Trail of Screaming Dead”), and plenty of heavy reverb à la Cult of Luna (“The Night Fires,” “The Wound of Heaven”). It’s not all about riffs, however. Blood Mother incorporate plenty of atmospheric techniques, including synths, to set up eerie, sometimes sinister moods—”The Night Fires” perfectly encapsulates this approach, beginning with unsettling synths before easing into an energetic pace. Natural sounds also make their way into the music, with crickets chirping at the start and end of “The Night Fires,” and birds and monkeys calling out on “The Wound of Heaven.” These flourishes add subtle touches to the sense of unease bubbling beneath the surface.

Giordano proves an adept songwriter, composing music that patiently builds up to a climax and tells a story. Blood Mother masterfully set the mood, be that the eeriness of “The Night Fires” or the Western, Wayfarer-esque feel of “Lost in Thunder.” But he also realizes mood isn’t enough, and that’s where the riff comes in, not to mention some impressive drumming from Ramsier. On the masterful “Trail of Screaming Dead,” Blood Mother methodically builds upon itself, beginning with organs, then jumping into lively drums and riffs, slowly adding new elements until some memorable tremolos bring the song to a conclusion. The music feels like gritty poetry, and the lyrics reflect this, written in poetic form and performed artistically in Giordano’s husky growls.

At just over 30 minutes, Blood Mother is a morsel rather than a full feast, and its conclusion leaves it somewhat wanting. Of the six songs that comprise that runtime, five of them are terrific pieces that eschew traditional structures, filling up spaces with music that can be thoughtful, deliberate, and sometimes exciting. On occasion, Blood Mother make some odd choices, such as synths in the final minute of “The Night Fires” that are deliberately jarring as they switch from one speaker to the other. Yet it’s the record’s finale, “Pulled Apart,” that doesn’t quite hold a light to the tracks that precede it. It still contains great ideas, including some nifty riffs and kitwork, but also some noises that just don’t blend into the music very well. It’s the one tune that doesn’t quite hit as hard as the others, and the concluding fade-out ends Blood Mother on an anticlimactic disappearing act.

For me, this was the perfect promo to match my mood. I wanted something that entertained without being formulaic. I wanted something that didn’t hit the usual beats, but wasn’t too weird. Blood Mother checks all those boxes. Sure, Giordano may have a few kinks to work out, but for a first-time striking it out (mostly) on his own, this is a pretty remarkable record, one that’s full of surprises and nuances that make for rewarding repeat listens.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Self-Released
Website: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: June 19th, 2026

The year of the snake strikes again, and this time the venom flows through Heart of the Serpent. This US-based duo delivers black metal that slithers between second-wave and DSBM, and on their third spawn Unraveling, Heart of the Serpent concocts tortuous bursts of blackened intensity and slinky grooves coiled around thrashy and ambient interstices. Five years have passed since sophomore album Loathing, and in the intervening time Heart of the Serpent shed vocalist Urion, reducing the ensemble to a two-piece. On Unraveling, guitarist, bassist, and keyboardist Ulg absorbs vocal duties while Hulder’s live drummer Vapula returns to clobber the skins. As we hoist Heart of the Serpent onto the scale for judgment, will we find Unraveling buoyed by its charms or over-encumbered with musical sins?

Compared to Heart of the Serpent’s previous albums, Unraveling reveals itself as their most maturely composed. Unwinding at its leisure, Unraveling is the longest of the outfit’s three albums, though it still packs proceedings into just thirty-eight minutes. An extra few minutes may not seem like much, yet it’s enough to allow songs to fully gestate. This cultivates dynamic highs and lows that were hinted at on Contempt and Loathing, but Unraveling feels more fully developed. It also exhibits Heart of the Serpent’s cleanest production to date. This gives a much-needed emphasis to the bass guitar, especially when it bubbles to the fore of the mix to provide low-end punch. Still, the bulk of what Heart of the Serpent did previously remains—the execution is just more sophisticated.

For a two-man project, Unraveling feels remarkably robust. Vapula’s drumming deserves special mention, as his riveting performances and canny fills and rolls command the momentum on most of Unraveling’s tracks. Ulg carries his own weight, too, and the instrumentation churns with slow-burn intensity. Specifically, Heart of the Serpent invests more time than ever in unhurried builds, allowing Ulg to craft intoxicating guitar and bass interplay that largely eschews technicality yet is no less captivating for it. “Rust” and “Unraveling” both exhibit this pattern, where the bass prowls beneath austere guitar sustains as tension mounts in calculated anticipation. Hooks and serpentine melodies wend throughout Unraveling, proving seductively engrossing from song to song. The only track that doesn’t work for me is “Mourning/Asphyxia,” a five-minute ambient instrumental that saps momentum with its awkward placement and wearisome length. Given the lack of motifs to tether “Mourning/Asphyxia” to the rest of Unraveling, the track flounders without any obvious context for its inclusion. Working its themes into other tracks or cutting it altogether would induce a more seamless listening experience.

Given everything Heart of the Serpent does right on Unraveling, it’s a shame that some missteps inhibit what is otherwise an enticing outing. The momentum lapse stemming from “Mourning/Asphyxia” is my biggest complaint, though others further cramp Heart of the Serpent’s muscle. Unraveling’s production provides plenty of contrast and largely deserves appreciation, the drum tones often sound muffled. Considering the arresting performance Vapula discharges, I wish it packed a bit more oomph. The guitars and bass sound warm and fierce, though, ensuring a cozy nesting spot amidst the cold-blooded blasts of black metal. Lastly, the concluding dyad of songs are two of Unraveling’s best tracks, both of which are mostly characterized by slower paces and gentler moments, leaving listeners with a low-energy conclusion. Retooling the album’s song order or replacing “Mourning/Asphyxia” with a lean, second-wave scorcher moved between these tracks could help revitalize the back half of the album.

Ultimately, Heart of the Serpent delivers a varied and engaging slab of black metal marred by a few odd choices. Unraveling creeps close to a much better score, and if not for a few damning flaws, I’d be insisting how Heart of the Serpent dropped a very good platter that makes the score-counter sweat. Instead, I’ll settle for spreading the word that the Heart of the Serpent beats with the potential for greatness.

Rating: Mixed
DR: N/A | Format Reviewed: WAV
Label: Self-Release
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: June 19th, 2026

The year of the snake strikes again, and this time the venom flows through Heart of the Serpent. This US-based duo delivers black metal that slithers between second-wave and DSBM, and on their third spawn Unraveling, Heart of the Serpent concocts tortuous bursts of blackened intensity and slinky grooves coiled around thrashy and ambient interstices. Five years have passed since sophomore album Loathing, and in the intervening time Heart of the Serpent shed vocalist Urion, reducing the ensemble to a two-piece. On Unraveling, guitarist, bassist, and keyboardist Ulg absorbs vocal duties while Hulder’s live drummer Vapula returns to clobber the skins. As we hoist Heart of the Serpent onto the scale for judgment, will we find Unraveling buoyed by its charms or over-encumbered with musical sins?

Compared to Heart of the Serpent’s previous albums, Unraveling reveals itself as their most maturely composed. Unwinding at its leisure, Unraveling is the longest of the outfit’s three albums, though it still packs proceedings into just thirty-eight minutes. An extra few minutes may not seem like much, yet it’s enough to allow songs to fully gestate. This cultivates dynamic highs and lows that were hinted at on Contempt and Loathing, but Unraveling feels more fully developed. It also exhibits Heart of the Serpent’s cleanest production to date. This gives a much-needed emphasis to the bass guitar, especially when it bubbles to the fore of the mix to provide low-end punch. Still, the bulk of what Heart of the Serpent did previously remains—the execution is just more sophisticated.

For a two-man project, Unraveling feels remarkably robust. Vapula’s drumming deserves special mention, as his riveting performances and canny fills and rolls command the momentum on most of Unraveling’s tracks. Ulg carries his own weight, too, and the instrumentation churns with slow-burn intensity. Specifically, Heart of the Serpent invests more time than ever in unhurried builds, allowing Ulg to craft intoxicating guitar and bass interplay that largely eschews technicality yet is no less captivating for it. “Rust” and “Unraveling” both exhibit this pattern, where the bass prowls beneath austere guitar sustains as tension mounts in calculated anticipation. Hooks and serpentine melodies wend throughout Unraveling, proving seductively engrossing from song to song. The only track that doesn’t work for me is “Mourning/Asphyxia,” a five-minute ambient instrumental that saps momentum with its awkward placement and wearisome length. Given the lack of motifs to tether “Mourning/Asphyxia” to the rest of Unraveling, the track flounders without any obvious context for its inclusion. Working its themes into other tracks or cutting it altogether would induce a more seamless listening experience.

Given everything Heart of the Serpent does right on Unraveling, it’s a shame that some missteps inhibit what is otherwise an enticing outing. The momentum lapse stemming from “Mourning/Asphyxia” is my biggest complaint, though others further cramp Heart of the Serpent’s muscle. Unraveling’s production provides plenty of contrast and largely deserves appreciation, the drum tones often sound muffled. Considering the arresting performance Vapula discharges, I wish it packed a bit more oomph. The guitars and bass sound warm and fierce, though, ensuring a cozy nesting spot amidst the cold-blooded blasts of black metal. Lastly, the concluding dyad of songs are two of Unraveling’s best tracks, both of which are mostly characterized by slower paces and gentler moments, leaving listeners with a low-energy conclusion. Retooling the album’s song order or replacing “Mourning/Asphyxia” with a lean, second-wave scorcher moved between these tracks could help revitalize the back half of the album.

Ultimately, Heart of the Serpent delivers a varied and engaging slab of black metal marred by a few odd choices. Unraveling creeps close to a much better score, and if not for a few damning flaws, I’d be insisting how Heart of the Serpent dropped a very good platter that makes the score-counter sweat. Instead, I’ll settle for spreading the word that the Heart of the Serpent beats with the potential for greatness.

Rating: Mixed
DR: N/A | Format Reviewed: WAV
Label: Self-Release
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: June 19th, 2026

When I nabbed the promo for Oak of Weeping, I had no idea what DSBM stood for. Death something black metal? It was a bit of a gut punch to learn it stands for depressive suicidal black metal. Of course, depression has been the scourge of artists from Sylvia Plath to Robin Williams. Metal serves as a musical outlet that allows artists to express their darkest thoughts through a unique means. Sure, pop musicians can sing about depression, but only metal allows one to dive into the raw ugliness of those feelings. I hope it’s a useful outlet for artists who play DSBM, and for anyone who suffers from depression, please seek help. DSBM generally distinguishes itself from other forms of black metal with pained, anguished vocals and a doomier tempo. This all serves as the backdrop for the debut record from Hungary’s Oak of Weeping, The Grave My Father, the Worm My Sister. András Lipták bases this one-man project not on his own personal life, but on scripture, pulling its lyrics straight from the Book of Job. With its colorful, poetic album and song titles, as well as a novel lens on biblical text, this is about as tempting as the fruit that doomed Adam and Eve to mortality.

Oak of Weeping builds its music upon simple yet catchy foundational riffs. Each song has as its base a single riff or trem while snappy blast beats set a mostly brisk pace. While I can’t speak for the lyrics, as they are all in Hungarian, the overall mood is certainly not depressive—at least not instrumentally. Often the opening trems or arpeggios set a mournful mood, but the blast beats convey a much more upbeat tone. In many ways, the music here reminds me of the joyous, Latin dance-inspired black metal of To Escape. By the end of the final song, “Now That My Eyes See You, I Despise Myself,” the trems are uplifting and triumphant enough to convert the non-believers.

Lipták’s vocal style, on the other hand, is like an emotional wrecking ball. On opener “Let the Day Perish on Which I Was Born,” he sounds agonized and in the painful throes of death. I understand his performance will likely turn many listeners off, but I found its raw nakedness mesmerizing. Each song brings a different side to him. “You Have Turned Cruel to Me” brings much mellower pained shouts, to the point that in the final minutes, he’s merely whispering his pain. Then on “For I Am Full of Words” he wails like an otherworldly creature, cartoonish and over the top almost to the point of parody. Lipták conveys pain and suffering on a primal, animalistic level that’s certainly not pleasant, but it is effective. His voice contrasts with the pleasant sound of the guitars and drums, as if purposely throwing the joy from the instruments off-kilter with the anguished cries from his throat.

A few issues do hold The Grave My Father, the Worm My Sister from being a better record. The major issue is the repetitive nature of the instrumentals. While Oak of Weeping play some fantastic guitar parts, the songs carry on for too long without any real variation in the riffs/trems. The unpredictable nature of Lipták’s vocals does make this somewhat less of an issue, however. Another weak link is the penultimate track, “The Gates of Deep Darkness,” which lacks the musicality of the other tunes. Harsh guitar tones serve to create noise rather than establish any sort of rhythm. There are a few other minor quibbles as well, such as the 40 seconds of silence to end the opening song. It’s the kind of thing that pulls you out of the music’s spell and makes you wonder if your app crashed.

Despite the genre, Oak of Weeping has crafted a very enjoyable and non-depressing black metal record. Fans of DSBM or atmoblack will find plenty to like, even if the vocals are rawer and more troubled than the usual fare. I suspect there’s some deeper meaning in choosing to create a DSBM album about the Book of Job, but alas, I haven’t brushed up enough on my Hungarian to read more deeply into it. Still, Oak of Weeping has a good ear for an enjoyable riff and an unconventional approach. That’s enough for me to want to hear what Lipták creates next.1

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 10 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Self-Released
Website: Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: May 29th, 2026

When I nabbed the promo for Oak of Weeping, I had no idea what DSBM stood for. Death something black metal? It was a bit of a gut punch to learn it stands for depressive suicidal black metal. Of course, depression has been the scourge of artists from Sylvia Plath to Robin Williams. Metal serves as a musical outlet that allows artists to express their darkest thoughts through a unique means. Sure, pop musicians can sing about depression, but only metal allows one to dive into the raw ugliness of those feelings. I hope it’s a useful outlet for artists who play DSBM, and for anyone who suffers from depression, please seek help. DSBM generally distinguishes itself from other forms of black metal with pained, anguished vocals and a doomier tempo. This all serves as the backdrop for the debut record from Hungary’s Oak of Weeping, The Grave My Father, the Worm My Sister. András Lipták bases this one-man project not on his own personal life, but on scripture, pulling its lyrics straight from the Book of Job. With its colorful, poetic album and song titles, as well as a novel lens on biblical text, this is about as tempting as the fruit that doomed Adam and Eve to mortality.

Oak of Weeping builds its music upon simple yet catchy foundational riffs. Each song has as its base a single riff or trem while snappy blast beats set a mostly brisk pace. While I can’t speak for the lyrics, as they are all in Hungarian, the overall mood is certainly not depressive—at least not instrumentally. Often the opening trems or arpeggios set a mournful mood, but the blast beats convey a much more upbeat tone. In many ways, the music here reminds me of the joyous, Latin dance-inspired black metal of To Escape. By the end of the final song, “Now That My Eyes See You, I Despise Myself,” the trems are uplifting and triumphant enough to convert the non-believers.

Lipták’s vocal style, on the other hand, is like an emotional wrecking ball. On opener “Let the Day Perish on Which I Was Born,” he sounds agonized and in the painful throes of death. I understand his performance will likely turn many listeners off, but I found its raw nakedness mesmerizing. Each song brings a different side to him. “You Have Turned Cruel to Me” brings much mellower pained shouts, to the point that in the final minutes, he’s merely whispering his pain. Then on “For I Am Full of Words” he wails like an otherworldly creature, cartoonish and over the top almost to the point of parody. Lipták conveys pain and suffering on a primal, animalistic level that’s certainly not pleasant, but it is effective. His voice contrasts with the pleasant sound of the guitars and drums, as if purposely throwing the joy from the instruments off-kilter with the anguished cries from his throat.

A few issues do hold The Grave My Father, the Worm My Sister from being a better record. The major issue is the repetitive nature of the instrumentals. While Oak of Weeping play some fantastic guitar parts, the songs carry on for too long without any real variation in the riffs/trems. The unpredictable nature of Lipták’s vocals does make this somewhat less of an issue, however. Another weak link is the penultimate track, “The Gates of Deep Darkness,” which lacks the musicality of the other tunes. Harsh guitar tones serve to create noise rather than establish any sort of rhythm. There are a few other minor quibbles as well, such as the 40 seconds of silence to end the opening song. It’s the kind of thing that pulls you out of the music’s spell and makes you wonder if your app crashed.

Despite the genre, Oak of Weeping has crafted a very enjoyable and non-depressing black metal record. Fans of DSBM or atmoblack will find plenty to like, even if the vocals are rawer and more troubled than the usual fare. I suspect there’s some deeper meaning in choosing to create a DSBM album about the Book of Job, but alas, I haven’t brushed up enough on my Hungarian to read more deeply into it. Still, Oak of Weeping has a good ear for an enjoyable riff and an unconventional approach. That’s enough for me to want to hear what Lipták creates next.1

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 10 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Self-Released
Website: Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: May 29th, 2026

Rain has started to leak into the ducts as Spring gets wetter and wetter. While I’m away, vacationing in a nice, dry, cloudy place, my minions are drenched and miserable. As it should be! But I’m still keeping tabs on their progress. Just because I’m having a great time somewhere else doesn’t mean these louts don’t have a quota to meet!

And meet their quota they shall, if only barely… BEHOLD!

ClarkKent’s Sci-Fi Soundbites

Epigram // Obsolescent [March 6th, 2026 – Self Released]

Combining the melodic black metal of Thulcandra and Dissection with the symphonics of Fleshgod Apocalypse and SepticFlesh, Epigram dropped a tasty little morsel with their debut, Obsolescent. The trio from Los Angeles puts on a spirited performance that borders on thrash. Tim Cauley’s display on the kit is a dominant force as he furiously blast beats his way from one song to the next. He turns “Wrath of Betrayed” into a piece of blackened thrash and proves tireless across Obsolescent’s 27-minute runtime. The lively vocal performance of Luis Echevarria adds further to Epigram’s charm. His low growls may seem underpowered, but his delivery is energetic and fun. He’s also the source of the symphonic instrumentation, via synths, though this aspect is secondary. Sure, there’s some choral chants (“Myrmidon,” “The Usurper’s Throne”), strings (“Hour of Gods”), and other vaguely symphonic sounds, but Epigram is most focused on the blackened melodic stuff. Shadi Absi throws together some great riffs, particularly on “Empires,” a work of pure black ‘n roll. The showstopper is “Hour of Gods,” with some sweet riffs and terrific energy. This song alone makes Obsolescent a worthy spin. Rounding out the musicians is Sanjay Kumar (Inferi, Wormhole), who plays solos on “Wrath of Betrayed” and “No Sin.” This is a promising debut for an eager new band.

Kal-El // Astral Voyager Vol. 2 [March 20th, 2026 – Blues Funeral Recordings]

Sporting the greatest band name of all time, Kal-El have been blasting listeners with stoner doom since 2012. Astral Voyager Vol. 2 is the follow-up to last year’s Vol. 1, and these pyschedelians’s seventh album overall. It’s been seven years since Witches of Mars was unfairly pummeled by a Kryptonian frog, and now I’d like to do the band justice by rescuing them from our filter. On this astral voyage, you get the pleasure of listening to six songs and 42 minutes of laid-back stoner tunes with plenty of fuzzy riffs—perfect for cruising around the cosmos. Their riff-centric approach puts them in the Black Sabbath camp, and the riffs on the likes of “Juno” and “The Prophecy,” which has a “Children of the Grave” vibe, are tons of fun. Further cementing the Sabbath comp is the vocal performance of Ståle Rodvelt, who carries a resemblance to Ozzy in his delivery. Longer cuts take more exploratory routes, akin to Sleep, yet still feature plenty to get your head bobbin’. “Asteroid” opens up with some sweet riffs that sustain its near eight-minute frame, while “The Nine” will still have you singing along in the final of its ten minutes. 1 So if you are in the mood for something chill that won’t put you to sleep, something that has the riffs without the risk of elevating your blood pressure, you should spend some time with Kal-El.

Thus Spoke’s Tectonic Treat

Bong-Ra // Esoterik [March 20th, 2026 – Debemur Morti Productions]

Not having received promo, it was only upon visiting DM’s Bandcamp page while writing up Aversio Humanitatis that I realised Bong-Ra had released another album. Asked whether Esoterik would be leaning more into enigmatic doom or spiky industrial electronica, the shapeshifting Bong-Ra said “yes”. The music is built on layers of dense, gritty atmosphere undulating with bass, breakbeats, and distorted riffs. Vocals are maintained from Black Noise—half-spoken snarls blurred by noise, shifting between blunt tunefulness (“Serpentine Helix”) and gargling venom (“Machine Halo”)—but at least half of the space is devoted to the purely instrumental psychosis. The saxophone is back, adding bizarre elegance and chilling eeriness in equal measure. Sometimes, Esoterik seems to be pitting its sultry and acerbic natures against one another; that chamber jazz side can take one by surprise (“Pleasures of the Flesh,” “Duality of One”), sandwiched as it is between a more punishing industrialism, but Bong-Ra just about gets away with it. This could be down to Esoterik’s efficiency in establishing (new) grooves—rhythmic and stylistic. Opener “Harmony Cloak” dispels misgivings on its skittering electronic oddity with a chorus that strikes a stylish balance between melody and dissonance; “Machine Halo” later follows in its stride. It’s an album that earns its moniker, right down to the particular spelling, and is worth the dark diversion it requires.

Grin Reaper’s Kooky Curios

Surturian // II – Hessian Spears [March 13th, 2026 – Crawling Chaos]

A German thrash band named after the legendary fire giant and guardian of Muspelheim? And on their debut LP, they launch an unrelenting, venomous assault filled with sticky riffs and bopping bass grooves in under forty-five minutes? Sign me up! Surturian plays thrash that smacks of early Testament and Metallica fused with the epic melodies of latter-day Kreator—hell, vocalist Tim Krogull reeks of Mille’s rancorous vocals, even though his name hews closer to a Voivodian disposition. In addition to thrash influences, Surturian calls upon Maiden’s signature gallops (“Cimmerians Wrath”) and anthemic melodies (“⁠Night Stalker,” “Do What Thou Wilt”), inculcating a lofty grandeur throughout II – Hessian Spears. Further fanning Surturian’s flames, the outfit navigates a varied landscape that imbues each track with its own character while never straying too far from their core sound. Hard-hitting offensives (“Blood Witchery”), slinky licks (“Night Stalker”), and oddball songwriting (“Beneath a Dying Sky”2) unite into an album I’ve regularly returned to since discovering it. If you’re feeling unSurtain, take it from me—it’s always a good time for some Hessian aggression!

Barn // Crucibles [March 24th, 2026 – Self Released]

Thanks to a certain dude/guy in the comments section, Crucibles didn’t slip past me undetected. Despite their dubious band name, Barn dropped a humdinger slab of tech death back in March that oozes with references to Unquestionable Presence (Atheist), Focus (Cynic), and, to a lesser extent, Decrepit Birth.3 There are even moments that echo more subdued moments from recent Sallow Moth releases (“The Serpent’s Perpetual Shed”). Staccato bursts of guitar, pinch harmonics, and buttery, fretless bass glissandos epitomize what Barn offers, and they spread it thick and chunky all over Crucibles’ sixty-five-minute runtime. Rustic name notwithstanding, Barn’s latest sounds like a sci-fi adventure, supported by track names like “Black Hole Lens” and “Cymatics.” The fretless bass especially helps with the futuristic aesthetic, frictionlessly gliding through gusts of abrupt, otherworldly guitars that buffet tracks from all angles. Barn rarely offers reprieve during their unconventional onslaught, but tracks like “Forbidden Fruits,” “Cymatics,” and “The Defeater” achieve such heights that I don’t find myself needing one. In short, these Boise boys warp listeners to a different dimension on Crucibles, and though it runs a tad long, I haven’t been deterred yet from lighting up this Barnburner.

Dionysiaque // La Tourbe des Rêves [March 27th, 2026 – I, Voidhanger Records]

Dionysiaque dispenses a bizarre derivative of doom on La Tourbe des Rêves that’s sure to be equal parts captivating and divisive. Reaching into the bag of tricks defined by Cathedral, Black Sabbath, and Candlemass, Dionysiaque’s sophomore album lumbers and chugs with classic rock-inspired leads and firecracker songcraft that I find utterly enthralling. Songs like “Aaron,” “Hate Fruit,” and “The Two Headed Boy” spotlight Dionysiaque’s plaintive guitar wails, contributed by L.B. and Bruno Penserini, along with their savvy balance of somber atmospheres and rousing melodies. Buoying the guitar tandem, bassist Lethal lays down frolicking, fabulous thunder via absorbing countermelodies while drummer T.H. looses potent fills and rolls throughout. Soaring atop the instrumentation are N.C.’s unorthodox vocals, which will almost certainly be the sole determining factor in listeners’ ability to engage with La Tourbe des Rêves. His delivery recalls that of Mayhem’s Attila Csihar at his most operatically deranged, never lacking conviction yet occasionally overpowering and ostentatious. Still, I appreciate and enjoy the commitment to the unhinged performance, and although dialing it back a little would make Dionysiaque’s latest more accessible, I’ve come to love La Tourbe des Rêves without apology. So don’t be afraid to let a little love into your heart—go get debauched with Dionysiaque’s aphrodisiac.

Creeping Ivy’s Pandemonic Pleasure

Mammon’s Throne // My Body to the Worms [March 13th, 2026 – Hammerheart Records]

In advising his fellow fallen angels—recently expelled from Heaven—to turn Hell into a competing kingdom, Mammon projects that All Demons will ‘work ease out of pain / Through labor and endurance.’4 Satan doesn’t heed this advice, but the third LP from Mammon’s Throne arguably does. On My Body to the Worms, this Australian five-piece inflicts pleasurable pain upon metaldom via five filthy slabs of sludgy death-doom (plus two instrumental reprieves). Mammon’s Throne conjure Hooded Menace, Temple of Void, and (old) Worm in their proclivity for plodding tempos, swampy riffs, and gravely howls (“Elixir”). The album is also a labor of love for classic (death-) doom à la Paradise Lost and My Dying Bride, mixing gothy croons, ascendant melodicism, and haunting piano into the band’s sinister stew (“Every Day More Sickened,” “At the Threshold of Eternity”). Though the listener does need some endurance, as three of the five non-instrumentals hover in the 8–9 minute range, the record flows fluidly across an easy 42 minutes. If you ever wondered what metal in league with Mammon might sound like, give My Body to the Worms a spin.

Rain has started to leak into the ducts as Spring gets wetter and wetter. While I’m away, vacationing in a nice, dry, cloudy place, my minions are drenched and miserable. As it should be! But I’m still keeping tabs on their progress. Just because I’m having a great time somewhere else doesn’t mean these louts don’t have a quota to meet!

And meet their quota they shall, if only barely… BEHOLD!

ClarkKent’s Sci-Fi Soundbites

Epigram // Obsolescent [March 6th, 2026 – Self Released]

Combining the melodic black metal of Thulcandra and Dissection with the symphonics of Fleshgod Apocalypse and SepticFlesh, Epigram dropped a tasty little morsel with their debut, Obsolescent. The trio from Los Angeles puts on a spirited performance that borders on thrash. Tim Cauley’s display on the kit is a dominant force as he furiously blast beats his way from one song to the next. He turns “Wrath of Betrayed” into a piece of blackened thrash and proves tireless across Obsolescent’s 27-minute runtime. The lively vocal performance of Luis Echevarria adds further to Epigram’s charm. His low growls may seem underpowered, but his delivery is energetic and fun. He’s also the source of the symphonic instrumentation, via synths, though this aspect is secondary. Sure, there’s some choral chants (“Myrmidon,” “The Usurper’s Throne”), strings (“Hour of Gods”), and other vaguely symphonic sounds, but Epigram is most focused on the blackened melodic stuff. Shadi Absi throws together some great riffs, particularly on “Empires,” a work of pure black ‘n roll. The showstopper is “Hour of Gods,” with some sweet riffs and terrific energy. This song alone makes Obsolescent a worthy spin. Rounding out the musicians is Sanjay Kumar (Inferi, Wormhole), who plays solos on “Wrath of Betrayed” and “No Sin.” This is a promising debut for an eager new band.

Kal-El // Astral Voyager Vol. 2 [March 20th, 2026 – Blues Funeral Recordings]

Sporting the greatest band name of all time, Kal-El have been blasting listeners with stoner doom since 2012. Astral Voyager Vol. 2 is the follow-up to last year’s Vol. 1, and these pyschedelians’s seventh album overall. It’s been seven years since Witches of Mars was unfairly pummeled by a Kryptonian frog, and now I’d like to do the band justice by rescuing them from our filter. On this astral voyage, you get the pleasure of listening to six songs and 42 minutes of laid-back stoner tunes with plenty of fuzzy riffs—perfect for cruising around the cosmos. Their riff-centric approach puts them in the Black Sabbath camp, and the riffs on the likes of “Juno” and “The Prophecy,” which has a “Children of the Grave” vibe, are tons of fun. Further cementing the Sabbath comp is the vocal performance of Ståle Rodvelt, who carries a resemblance to Ozzy in his delivery. Longer cuts take more exploratory routes, akin to Sleep, yet still feature plenty to get your head bobbin’. “Asteroid” opens up with some sweet riffs that sustain its near eight-minute frame, while “The Nine” will still have you singing along in the final of its ten minutes. 1 So if you are in the mood for something chill that won’t put you to sleep, something that has the riffs without the risk of elevating your blood pressure, you should spend some time with Kal-El.

Thus Spoke’s Tectonic Treat

Bong-Ra // Esoterik [March 20th, 2026 – Debemur Morti Productions]

Not having received promo, it was only upon visiting DM’s Bandcamp page while writing up Aversio Humanitatis that I realised Bong-Ra had released another album. Asked whether Esoterik would be leaning more into enigmatic doom or spiky industrial electronica, the shapeshifting Bong-Ra said “yes”. The music is built on layers of dense, gritty atmosphere undulating with bass, breakbeats, and distorted riffs. Vocals are maintained from Black Noise—half-spoken snarls blurred by noise, shifting between blunt tunefulness (“Serpentine Helix”) and gargling venom (“Machine Halo”)—but at least half of the space is devoted to the purely instrumental psychosis. The saxophone is back, adding bizarre elegance and chilling eeriness in equal measure. Sometimes, Esoterik seems to be pitting its sultry and acerbic natures against one another; that chamber jazz side can take one by surprise (“Pleasures of the Flesh,” “Duality of One”), sandwiched as it is between a more punishing industrialism, but Bong-Ra just about gets away with it. This could be down to Esoterik’s efficiency in establishing (new) grooves—rhythmic and stylistic. Opener “Harmony Cloak” dispels misgivings on its skittering electronic oddity with a chorus that strikes a stylish balance between melody and dissonance; “Machine Halo” later follows in its stride. It’s an album that earns its moniker, right down to the particular spelling, and is worth the dark diversion it requires.

Grin Reaper’s Kooky Curios

Surturian // II – Hessian Spears [March 13th, 2026 – Crawling Chaos]

A German thrash band named after the legendary fire giant and guardian of Muspelheim? And on their debut LP, they launch an unrelenting, venomous assault filled with sticky riffs and bopping bass grooves in under forty-five minutes? Sign me up! Surturian plays thrash that smacks of early Testament and Metallica fused with the epic melodies of latter-day Kreator—hell, vocalist Tim Krogull reeks of Mille’s rancorous vocals, even though his name hews closer to a Voivodian disposition. In addition to thrash influences, Surturian calls upon Maiden’s signature gallops (“Cimmerians Wrath”) and anthemic melodies (“⁠Night Stalker,” “Do What Thou Wilt”), inculcating a lofty grandeur throughout II – Hessian Spears. Further fanning Surturian’s flames, the outfit navigates a varied landscape that imbues each track with its own character while never straying too far from their core sound. Hard-hitting offensives (“Blood Witchery”), slinky licks (“Night Stalker”), and oddball songwriting (“Beneath a Dying Sky”2) unite into an album I’ve regularly returned to since discovering it. If you’re feeling unSurtain, take it from me—it’s always a good time for some Hessian aggression!

Barn // Crucibles [March 24th, 2026 – Self Released]

Thanks to a certain dude/guy in the comments section, Crucibles didn’t slip past me undetected. Despite their dubious band name, Barn dropped a humdinger slab of tech death back in March that oozes with references to Unquestionable Presence (Atheist), Focus (Cynic), and, to a lesser extent, Decrepit Birth.3 There are even moments that echo more subdued moments from recent Sallow Moth releases (“The Serpent’s Perpetual Shed”). Staccato bursts of guitar, pinch harmonics, and buttery, fretless bass glissandos epitomize what Barn offers, and they spread it thick and chunky all over Crucibles’ sixty-five-minute runtime. Rustic name notwithstanding, Barn’s latest sounds like a sci-fi adventure, supported by track names like “Black Hole Lens” and “Cymatics.” The fretless bass especially helps with the futuristic aesthetic, frictionlessly gliding through gusts of abrupt, otherworldly guitars that buffet tracks from all angles. Barn rarely offers reprieve during their unconventional onslaught, but tracks like “Forbidden Fruits,” “Cymatics,” and “The Defeater” achieve such heights that I don’t find myself needing one. In short, these Boise boys warp listeners to a different dimension on Crucibles, and though it runs a tad long, I haven’t been deterred yet from lighting up this Barnburner.

Dionysiaque // La Tourbe des Rêves [March 27th, 2026 – I, Voidhanger Records]

Dionysiaque dispenses a bizarre derivative of doom on La Tourbe des Rêves that’s sure to be equal parts captivating and divisive. Reaching into the bag of tricks defined by Cathedral, Black Sabbath, and Candlemass, Dionysiaque’s sophomore album lumbers and chugs with classic rock-inspired leads and firecracker songcraft that I find utterly enthralling. Songs like “Aaron,” “Hate Fruit,” and “The Two Headed Boy” spotlight Dionysiaque’s plaintive guitar wails, contributed by L.B. and Bruno Penserini, along with their savvy balance of somber atmospheres and rousing melodies. Buoying the guitar tandem, bassist Lethal lays down frolicking, fabulous thunder via absorbing countermelodies while drummer T.H. looses potent fills and rolls throughout. Soaring atop the instrumentation are N.C.’s unorthodox vocals, which will almost certainly be the sole determining factor in listeners’ ability to engage with La Tourbe des Rêves. His delivery recalls that of Mayhem’s Attila Csihar at his most operatically deranged, never lacking conviction yet occasionally overpowering and ostentatious. Still, I appreciate and enjoy the commitment to the unhinged performance, and although dialing it back a little would make Dionysiaque’s latest more accessible, I’ve come to love La Tourbe des Rêves without apology. So don’t be afraid to let a little love into your heart—go get debauched with Dionysiaque’s aphrodisiac.

Creeping Ivy’s Pandemonic Pleasure

Mammon’s Throne // My Body to the Worms [March 13th, 2026 – Hammerheart Records]

In advising his fellow fallen angels—recently expelled from Heaven—to turn Hell into a competing kingdom, Mammon projects that All Demons will ‘work ease out of pain / Through labor and endurance.’4 Satan doesn’t heed this advice, but the third LP from Mammon’s Throne arguably does. On My Body to the Worms, this Australian five-piece inflicts pleasurable pain upon metaldom via five filthy slabs of sludgy death-doom (plus two instrumental reprieves). Mammon’s Throne conjure Hooded Menace, Temple of Void, and (old) Worm in their proclivity for plodding tempos, swampy riffs, and gravely howls (“Elixir”). The album is also a labor of love for classic (death-) doom à la Paradise Lost and My Dying Bride, mixing gothy croons, ascendant melodicism, and haunting piano into the band’s sinister stew (“Every Day More Sickened,” “At the Threshold of Eternity”). Though the listener does need some endurance, as three of the five non-instrumentals hover in the 8–9 minute range, the record flows fluidly across an easy 42 minutes. If you ever wondered what metal in league with Mammon might sound like, give My Body to the Worms a spin.

When last we visited the Iron Kingdom, the frigid temps forced Holdeneye to don his special Arctic Wolf Fur Armor (providing +50% cold resistance). With the changing seasons, the climate has transformed into a desert under a scorching hot sun. These Canucks have been putting out classic-style heavy metal since 2011, though founders Chris Osterman and Leighton Holmes originally started the band under the moniker Twisted in 2004. Despite all that history, Shadows and Dust, their sixth album, will be just the second time they’ve graced these halls, following Holdeneye’s review of 2019’s On the Hunt. As prepared as Holdeneye was for the frigid setting of On the Hunt, his Arctic armor unfortunately could not handle the sudden increase in temperature. So I have come in his stead, donning my Hooded Cloak of the Dragon (+50% heat resistance) to travel the Iron Kingdom and report my findings.

On Shadows and Dust, Iron Kingdom remain defenders of the NWOTHM brand. With their instruments and voices, Iron Kingdom summon classic Judas Priest, Iron Maiden, and Helloween. Much of what they offer is mid-tempo bruisers featuring energetic riffs and kit work. Opener “Defenders” proves to be the standard bearer for the mid-tempo stuff, with solid instrumentation and the catchiest chorus on the record. Iron Kingdom occasionally reach for Painkiller levels of thrash as well. The high-energy “Eternal Emperor” features some killer riffs and is so much fun it competes with the best in the genre. Only two songs fall below the four-minute mark (“Line of Fire,” “Dark Demands”), and these prove lean, mean thrash machines that inject the album with energy and momentum. Not that I frown upon the longer tracks. Iron Kingdom employs plenty of tricks to keep the music engaging, particularly energetic dueling solos from Osterman and Megan Merrick that are simply a blast.

The crew comprising this Kingdom prove themselves more than capable musicians. Osterman takes the traditional part of NWOTHM literally with a lively performance that mixes Bruce Dickinson and Michael Kiske. He hits the high notes, but has a light gruffness to keep songs from growing treacly sweet. Holmes provides occasional backup duty on some call-and-response portions. When he shouts “Fight or die!” in response to Osterman on “Line of Fire,” it’s just pure fun. Holmes also excels at the bass. This chosen weapon proves omnipresent thanks to the strong mixing, adding meat and groove to the underlying riffs. His terrific bass part on “Blood and Steel” turns that into a track highlight. Merrick and Osterman show off their stuff on the guitars, injecting the standard rhythm sections with some acrobatic fretwork that’s reminiscent of last year’s Helms Deep. Max Friesen handles kit duties with aplomb. His mid-tempo work keeps up a constant near-thrash level of energy to prime listeners for when songs do go to the next level.

Shadows and Dust shows a pretty significant creep in length compared to Iron Kingdom’s prior few albums. I believe this is the result of some slightly better song compositions, but also a little bloat. For the most part, these tunes don’t feel their length, but a few less memorable cuts do cause the record to sag. “Deadhouse Gates” threatens to kill the momentum mid-record as it becomes too repetitive in its final minute. Fortunately, “Line of Fire” comes to the rescue with a crucial momentum boost. Finale “Sacred Fire,” an epic in the vein of classic Maiden, also runs a touch too long, but manages to entertain for most of its seven-minute runtime. While Iron Kingdom don’t tread any new ground, Shadows and Dust nonetheless offers plenty of fun without any major missteps.

The Iron Kingdom has proved to be a worthy and fun place to visit. It’s far less expensive than the budget-breaking Magic Kingdom and far less brutal than the Steel Kingdom.1 Sure you can go back and spin classics like Keeper of the Seven Keys a whole bunch, but it’s also fun to hear some fresh songs in the genre from newer bands who know how to write a good lick or two. While the summer is so far shaping up to be another hot one, Shadows and Dust provides the perfect soundtrack to beat the heat. It’s that cool.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Self-Released (NA) / Steel Shark Records (EU)
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Site
Releases Worldwide: June 5th, 2026

When last we visited the Iron Kingdom, the frigid temps forced Holdeneye to don his special Arctic Wolf Fur Armor (providing +50% cold resistance). With the changing seasons, the climate has transformed into a desert under a scorching hot sun. These Canucks have been putting out classic-style heavy metal since 2011, though founders Chris Osterman and Leighton Holmes originally started the band under the moniker Twisted in 2004. Despite all that history, Shadows and Dust, their sixth album, will be just the second time they’ve graced these halls, following Holdeneye’s review of 2019’s On the Hunt. As prepared as Holdeneye was for the frigid setting of On the Hunt, his Arctic armor unfortunately could not handle the sudden increase in temperature. So I have come in his stead, donning my Hooded Cloak of the Dragon (+50% heat resistance) to travel the Iron Kingdom and report my findings.

On Shadows and Dust, Iron Kingdom remain defenders of the NWOTHM brand. With their instruments and voices, Iron Kingdom summon classic Judas Priest, Iron Maiden, and Helloween. Much of what they offer is mid-tempo bruisers featuring energetic riffs and kit work. Opener “Defenders” proves to be the standard bearer for the mid-tempo stuff, with solid instrumentation and the catchiest chorus on the record. Iron Kingdom occasionally reach for Painkiller levels of thrash as well. The high-energy “Eternal Emperor” features some killer riffs and is so much fun it competes with the best in the genre. Only two songs fall below the four-minute mark (“Line of Fire,” “Dark Demands”), and these prove lean, mean thrash machines that inject the album with energy and momentum. Not that I frown upon the longer tracks. Iron Kingdom employs plenty of tricks to keep the music engaging, particularly energetic dueling solos from Osterman and Megan Merrick that are simply a blast.

The crew comprising this Kingdom prove themselves more than capable musicians. Osterman takes the traditional part of NWOTHM literally with a lively performance that mixes Bruce Dickinson and Michael Kiske. He hits the high notes, but has a light gruffness to keep songs from growing treacly sweet. Holmes provides occasional backup duty on some call-and-response portions. When he shouts “Fight or die!” in response to Osterman on “Line of Fire,” it’s just pure fun. Holmes also excels at the bass. This chosen weapon proves omnipresent thanks to the strong mixing, adding meat and groove to the underlying riffs. His terrific bass part on “Blood and Steel” turns that into a track highlight. Merrick and Osterman show off their stuff on the guitars, injecting the standard rhythm sections with some acrobatic fretwork that’s reminiscent of last year’s Helms Deep. Max Friesen handles kit duties with aplomb. His mid-tempo work keeps up a constant near-thrash level of energy to prime listeners for when songs do go to the next level.

Shadows and Dust shows a pretty significant creep in length compared to Iron Kingdom’s prior few albums. I believe this is the result of some slightly better song compositions, but also a little bloat. For the most part, these tunes don’t feel their length, but a few less memorable cuts do cause the record to sag. “Deadhouse Gates” threatens to kill the momentum mid-record as it becomes too repetitive in its final minute. Fortunately, “Line of Fire” comes to the rescue with a crucial momentum boost. Finale “Sacred Fire,” an epic in the vein of classic Maiden, also runs a touch too long, but manages to entertain for most of its seven-minute runtime. While Iron Kingdom don’t tread any new ground, Shadows and Dust nonetheless offers plenty of fun without any major missteps.

The Iron Kingdom has proved to be a worthy and fun place to visit. It’s far less expensive than the budget-breaking Magic Kingdom and far less brutal than the Steel Kingdom.1 Sure you can go back and spin classics like Keeper of the Seven Keys a whole bunch, but it’s also fun to hear some fresh songs in the genre from newer bands who know how to write a good lick or two. While the summer is so far shaping up to be another hot one, Shadows and Dust provides the perfect soundtrack to beat the heat. It’s that cool.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Self-Released (NA) / Steel Shark Records (EU)
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Site
Releases Worldwide: June 5th, 2026

Ian Pooley, Afrique Like Me, Pursuit Grooves, and Olive T deliver remixes for Tush's Heavy Weather Remixed EP. #music #tush #heavyweather #remixed #ianpooley #AfriqueLikeMe #pursuitgrooves #olivet #selfreleased

https://evl.one/heavy-weather-remixed-by-tush

Ian Pooley, Afrique Like Me, Pursuit Grooves, and Olive T deliver remixes for Tush's Heavy Weather Remixed EP. #music #tush #heavyweather #remixed #ianpooley #AfriqueLikeMe #pursuitgrooves #olivet #selfreleased

https://evl.one/heavy-weather-remixed-by-tush

Following the success of his infectious blue-eyed soul track Spinning Around, Belgian artist Kristo returns with new singles Hopelessly Devoted and Eternal Love. #music #kristo #hopelesslydevoted #EternalLove #selfreleased

https://evl.one/hopelessly-devoted-eternal-love-by-kristo

Following the success of his infectious blue-eyed soul track Spinning Around, Belgian artist Kristo returns with new singles Hopelessly Devoted and Eternal Love. #music #kristo #hopelesslydevoted #EternalLove #selfreleased

https://evl.one/hopelessly-devoted-eternal-love-by-kristo

Melodic death metal had a banner year in 2025, brandishing outstanding releases from Aephanemer, Vittra, Buried Realm, Aversed, and others. Given that many of melodeth’s top tier releases came out in the back half of last year, there’s no cause for alarm yet, but with the exception of At the Gates’ opus The Ghost of a Future Dead, I can’t help feeling 2026 is off to a slow start.1 Throwing down the gauntlet with Old Gods Awaken, Vancouver collective Atavistia stakes their claim on this year’s melodeath throne. In his review of Cosmic Warfare, Doom_et_al noted that Atavistia made meaningful strides in songwriting since The Winter Way, but that plenty of room exists to further define an identity outside of Wintersun’s shadow. With the spotlight shining on folk metal influences throughout Old Gods Awaken, can Atavistia maintain their velocity after Cosmic Warfare, or would it have been better to let sleeping gods lie?

For anyone who’s read about Atavistia at AMG before, you know there’s one band whose temple even these Old Gods pray at.2 If you expected that to change, shame on you. With their most flagrant foray into folk metal to date, Atavistia doubles down on Wintersun worship with Old Gods Awaken while succumbing to a feverish case of Ensiferumania. On the surface, this may sound like Atavistia regressing back towards The Winter Way, but instead the band continues to refine the overwrought compositions that Doomy dinged in that review and delivers a succinct forty-three minutes of symphonic melodeath. And though Wintersun and Ensiferum cast the longest shadows, shades of Children of Bodom and Kalmah broaden Old Gods Awaken’s footprint and enrich its well of influences.

Despite Atavistia’s new musical folk-us and turning over half the band since Cosmic Warfare, they submit well-conceived orchestrations and tight performances throughout Old Gods Awaken. Specifically, Atavistia bade farewell to guitarist Dalton Meaden and bassist D’wayne Murray in 2024, welcoming Elia Baghbaniyan and Spencer Budworth in their stead. The quality of instrumentation remains consistent with previous albums, where guitars and synths steal the show as they trade earwormy melodic lines (“Mystic Tavern,” “I Skogens Djup”) that lead into heartfelt solos (“Goddess of My Dreams,” “Ride the White Storm”) and stirring, rustic breaks (“To a New World”). The haunting choirs on Cosmic Warfare have also been replaced by viking gang chants, which makes sense stylistically, but loses some of the flair that helped the former stand out. Longtime drummer Max Sepulveda lays down a commendable performance as well, spicing songs up with well-crafted fills that never overpower Old Gods Awaken’s dense compositions. Besides contributing guitar and supplying his best vocal performance to date, Atavistia ringleader Matt Sippola weaves together a rousing album that stands beside its inspirations.

While Atavistia successfully plunges headlong into folk, the move erodes some of the identity they established previously. Tracks on Cosmic Warfare recalled Wintersun, but just as much reminded me of Brymir and the choral arrangements in The Phantom Menace. Old Gods Awaken forsakes these subtle nods, and though that isn’t bad on its own, the Ensiferum influence is a safer path that deteriorates some of Atavistia’s idiosyncrasies. Additionally, some of the melodies and song structures on Old Gods Awaken blur together. “Mystic Tavern,” “Seeker of Time,” and “Goddess of My Dreams”3 all have similar-sounding leads, and the first two also have somewhat predictable compositions that stand out since the songs are back-to-back, particularly in terms of pacing and the timing of more subdued moments. Ultimately, these are minor complaints on very well-executed material, but diversifying the song structures could unveil even greater heights.

Old Gods Awaken subverts my expectations of what I thought a new Atavistia record would sound like, and even though they lean into a well-defined arena, they do so capably. Monster hooks and intricate, engaging arrangements keep the replay value of Old Gods Awaken tantalizingly high, especially with tight songwriting across the album. I’m curious where Atavistia goes next, as there’s no clear indication of what direction they’ll take. Whatever it is, the persistent urge to evolve their songcraft proves Atavistia will make it interesting and fun, and that every once in a while, you can teach Old Gods new tricks.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Self-Release
Websites: Website | Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: May 15th, 2026

Melodic death metal had a banner year in 2025, brandishing outstanding releases from Aephanemer, Vittra, Buried Realm, Aversed, and others. Given that many of melodeth’s top tier releases came out in the back half of last year, there’s no cause for alarm yet, but with the exception of At the Gates’ opus The Ghost of a Future Dead, I can’t help feeling 2026 is off to a slow start.1 Throwing down the gauntlet with Old Gods Awaken, Vancouver collective Atavistia stakes their claim on this year’s melodeath throne. In his review of Cosmic Warfare, Doom_et_al noted that Atavistia made meaningful strides in songwriting since The Winter Way, but that plenty of room exists to further define an identity outside of Wintersun’s shadow. With the spotlight shining on folk metal influences throughout Old Gods Awaken, can Atavistia maintain their velocity after Cosmic Warfare, or would it have been better to let sleeping gods lie?

For anyone who’s read about Atavistia at AMG before, you know there’s one band whose temple even these Old Gods pray at.2 If you expected that to change, shame on you. With their most flagrant foray into folk metal to date, Atavistia doubles down on Wintersun worship with Old Gods Awaken while succumbing to a feverish case of Ensiferumania. On the surface, this may sound like Atavistia regressing back towards The Winter Way, but instead the band continues to refine the overwrought compositions that Doomy dinged in that review and delivers a succinct forty-three minutes of symphonic melodeath. And though Wintersun and Ensiferum cast the longest shadows, shades of Children of Bodom and Kalmah broaden Old Gods Awaken’s footprint and enrich its well of influences.

Despite Atavistia’s new musical folk-us and turning over half the band since Cosmic Warfare, they submit well-conceived orchestrations and tight performances throughout Old Gods Awaken. Specifically, Atavistia bade farewell to guitarist Dalton Meaden and bassist D’wayne Murray in 2024, welcoming Elia Baghbaniyan and Spencer Budworth in their stead. The quality of instrumentation remains consistent with previous albums, where guitars and synths steal the show as they trade earwormy melodic lines (“Mystic Tavern,” “I Skogens Djup”) that lead into heartfelt solos (“Goddess of My Dreams,” “Ride the White Storm”) and stirring, rustic breaks (“To a New World”). The haunting choirs on Cosmic Warfare have also been replaced by viking gang chants, which makes sense stylistically, but loses some of the flair that helped the former stand out. Longtime drummer Max Sepulveda lays down a commendable performance as well, spicing songs up with well-crafted fills that never overpower Old Gods Awaken’s dense compositions. Besides contributing guitar and supplying his best vocal performance to date, Atavistia ringleader Matt Sippola weaves together a rousing album that stands beside its inspirations.

While Atavistia successfully plunges headlong into folk, the move erodes some of the identity they established previously. Tracks on Cosmic Warfare recalled Wintersun, but just as much reminded me of Brymir and the choral arrangements in The Phantom Menace. Old Gods Awaken forsakes these subtle nods, and though that isn’t bad on its own, the Ensiferum influence is a safer path that deteriorates some of Atavistia’s idiosyncrasies. Additionally, some of the melodies and song structures on Old Gods Awaken blur together. “Mystic Tavern,” “Seeker of Time,” and “Goddess of My Dreams”3 all have similar-sounding leads, and the first two also have somewhat predictable compositions that stand out since the songs are back-to-back, particularly in terms of pacing and the timing of more subdued moments. Ultimately, these are minor complaints on very well-executed material, but diversifying the song structures could unveil even greater heights.

Old Gods Awaken subverts my expectations of what I thought a new Atavistia record would sound like, and even though they lean into a well-defined arena, they do so capably. Monster hooks and intricate, engaging arrangements keep the replay value of Old Gods Awaken tantalizingly high, especially with tight songwriting across the album. I’m curious where Atavistia goes next, as there’s no clear indication of what direction they’ll take. Whatever it is, the persistent urge to evolve their songcraft proves Atavistia will make it interesting and fun, and that every once in a while, you can teach Old Gods new tricks.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Self-Release
Websites: Website | Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: May 15th, 2026

In a year that’s seen At the Gates release a seminal album that stands not only as a career touchstone but as a fitting swansong for Tomas “Tompa” Lindberg, the bar for Swedish melodic death metal is pretty high in 2026. This fact, however, did not deter Trollhättan’s fledgling act, Abandon Agony, from entering The Jester Race to flex some Gothenburg muscle of their own. Assembled in 2023, Abandon Agony released their first music a year later on the Dark Matter EP, and are now ready to unveil their debut long-player, Endbringer. As a group of relative unknowns, free from the confines of expectation that comes with an established amount of pedigree, Abandon Agony have gambled on themselves, choosing to release Endbringer independently. Will Endbringer signal the start of a long and successful career for Abandon Agony, or will it serve as a cautionary tale, relaying the slaughter of yet another up-and-coming melo-death soul?

Abandon Agony do melodic death metal really well. Endbringer passes everything that makes In Flames and Dark Tranquility exciting through a Mors Principium Estuary of modern, thrashy, power-melodic slickery before hitting open waters teeming with Amon Amarthic life.1 Guitarists Tobias Järvelä and Christoffer Tönnäng2 have the Gothenburg sound nailed down, their dual guitar assault wrecking necks, employing all the expected tropes: galloping, moody riffs, emotive, hooky leads, and tons of great solo work. Like the arms of Endbringer’s reaper slowly opening, the folds of his robe unfurl, inviting us in with the majestic power chords of album opener, “The Truth,” which then crank up a notch to catch Robin Toresson’s speedy double-bass rolls. Johan Hedström’s excellent vocals—a hybrid of Johan Hegg (Amon Amarth) and Randy Blythe (LoG)—fade in from a rumbling growl to a scream that’s met by some of Tönnäng’s nifty solo work and the song’s first fleet-footed verse; Endbringer is up and running. This track embodies everything about the Abandon Agony experience, which is one that offsets powerful, deathly aggression with atmospheric and melodic subtlety.

Endbringer is a potent, hard-driving melodeath album crammed with talented performances, all its poignant beauty revealed through the ghostly wisps of nuance rather than any overt melodic device. Whether it’s a hint of keys here (“The Truth”), the ghost of crystalline guitars there (“Dissolved”), or actual cleans that are both credited—Liv Jagrell’s (Liv Sin) gritty vocals are a great counterpoint to Hedström’s roars on album highlight “Entropy”—and uncredited (“Blind Intentions,” “Polar Shift”), these barely-there accompaniments serve to elevate many of Endbringer’s masterful moments. And it’s this beauty-and-the-beast balancing act that works so perfectly in Abandon Agony’s favor, drawing the listener deeper into Endbringer’s world without devolving into overwrought symphonia. Tönnäng’s excellent guitar work shines; his leads, ranging from the neo-classical (“Blind Intentions”) to the melancholy (“Lunar Storm”), acoustic work (“Rise From the Ashes,” “Polar Shift”), and wonderful solos (insert pretty much any song here), unleash a depth of emotion that enhances Endbringer’s heavy edge.3 And as vocalists go, Hedström’s growls and screams have fast become some of my favorite, period; a far cry from the shaky cleans he employs in his power metal project, Memoria.4

What pains me most, however, is that Abandon Agony have managed to run afoul of one of my biggest pet peeves, which is to pack half of Endbringer with songs that were originally released nearly two years ago.5 As annoying as it is to consider Abandon Agony have essentially mashed a couple of EPs’ worth of tunes together, I must still admit the level of continuity between the two sets of songs bridges an impressive gap in time rather seamlessly. Beyond this fact, though, my only real critique of Endbringer falls on its modern production, which renders nearly all Jonathan Wagerland’s bass work inaudible.

Outside the context of my petty-est of peeves, Abandon Agony have released a damn fine melodeath album in Endbringer. Had they chosen to release an EP of five new songs rather than combining everything, not only might I have missed out on Abandon Agony for an even longer amount of time, but I certainly wouldn’t have put them on anyone’s radar here. As it stands, readers, take note, for another Gothenburg titan has arrived, and by the seeing eye of the great Whoracle herself, you can bet your ass I’ll be watching closely for what comes next.

Rating: 3.56/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320kbps mp3
Label: Self-Release
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: May 22, 2026

In a year that’s seen At the Gates release a seminal album that stands not only as a career touchstone but as a fitting swansong for Tomas “Tompa” Lindberg, the bar for Swedish melodic death metal is pretty high in 2026. This fact, however, did not deter Trollhättan’s fledgling act, Abandon Agony, from entering The Jester Race to flex some Gothenburg muscle of their own. Assembled in 2023, Abandon Agony released their first music a year later on the Dark Matter EP, and are now ready to unveil their debut long-player, Endbringer. As a group of relative unknowns, free from the confines of expectation that comes with an established amount of pedigree, Abandon Agony have gambled on themselves, choosing to release Endbringer independently. Will Endbringer signal the start of a long and successful career for Abandon Agony, or will it serve as a cautionary tale, relaying the slaughter of yet another up-and-coming melo-death soul?

Abandon Agony do melodic death metal really well. Endbringer passes everything that makes In Flames and Dark Tranquility exciting through a Mors Principium Estuary of modern, thrashy, power-melodic slickery before hitting open waters teeming with Amon Amarthic life.1 Guitarists Tobias Järvelä and Christoffer Tönnäng2 have the Gothenburg sound nailed down, their dual guitar assault wrecking necks, employing all the expected tropes: galloping, moody riffs, emotive, hooky leads, and tons of great solo work. Like the arms of Endbringer’s reaper slowly opening, the folds of his robe unfurl, inviting us in with the majestic power chords of album opener, “The Truth,” which then crank up a notch to catch Robin Toresson’s speedy double-bass rolls. Johan Hedström’s excellent vocals—a hybrid of Johan Hegg (Amon Amarth) and Randy Blythe (LoG)—fade in from a rumbling growl to a scream that’s met by some of Tönnäng’s nifty solo work and the song’s first fleet-footed verse; Endbringer is up and running. This track embodies everything about the Abandon Agony experience, which is one that offsets powerful, deathly aggression with atmospheric and melodic subtlety.

Endbringer is a potent, hard-driving melodeath album crammed with talented performances, all its poignant beauty revealed through the ghostly wisps of nuance rather than any overt melodic device. Whether it’s a hint of keys here (“The Truth”), the ghost of crystalline guitars there (“Dissolved”), or actual cleans that are both credited—Liv Jagrell’s (Liv Sin) gritty vocals are a great counterpoint to Hedström’s roars on album highlight “Entropy”—and uncredited (“Blind Intentions,” “Polar Shift”), these barely-there accompaniments serve to elevate many of Endbringer’s masterful moments. And it’s this beauty-and-the-beast balancing act that works so perfectly in Abandon Agony’s favor, drawing the listener deeper into Endbringer’s world without devolving into overwrought symphonia. Tönnäng’s excellent guitar work shines; his leads, ranging from the neo-classical (“Blind Intentions”) to the melancholy (“Lunar Storm”), acoustic work (“Rise From the Ashes,” “Polar Shift”), and wonderful solos (insert pretty much any song here), unleash a depth of emotion that enhances Endbringer’s heavy edge.3 And as vocalists go, Hedström’s growls and screams have fast become some of my favorite, period; a far cry from the shaky cleans he employs in his power metal project, Memoria.4

What pains me most, however, is that Abandon Agony have managed to run afoul of one of my biggest pet peeves, which is to pack half of Endbringer with songs that were originally released nearly two years ago.5 As annoying as it is to consider Abandon Agony have essentially mashed a couple of EPs’ worth of tunes together, I must still admit the level of continuity between the two sets of songs bridges an impressive gap in time rather seamlessly. Beyond this fact, though, my only real critique of Endbringer falls on its modern production, which renders nearly all Jonathan Wagerland’s bass work inaudible.

Outside the context of my petty-est of peeves, Abandon Agony have released a damn fine melodeath album in Endbringer. Had they chosen to release an EP of five new songs rather than combining everything, not only might I have missed out on Abandon Agony for an even longer amount of time, but I certainly wouldn’t have put them on anyone’s radar here. As it stands, readers, take note, for another Gothenburg titan has arrived, and by the seeing eye of the great Whoracle herself, you can bet your ass I’ll be watching closely for what comes next.

Rating: 3.56/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320kbps mp3
Label: Self-Release
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: May 22, 2026

Psyclops—Portland, Oregon’s progressive metal genre-benders—have some nerve coming my way. I know in my heart of hearts that in writing “their” new record, Bound to Burn: Melody of the Martyr, they committed psychic plagiarism against me and stole the progressive death metal concept album I outlined years ago. A sun-baked Earth struggling to survive? My set-up! A wanderer searching for hope and imbued with religious allusion? My protagonist! A chance encounter with a water deity that brings them to a wellspring of pure, untouched water? More or less my idea! Psyclops just cut out my cannibal gangs and digs against Elon Musk, the hacks. Admittedly, they commissioned a comic book to coincide with Bound to Burn, which I didn’t think of…but very well could’ve!1 I was just waiting to get good at music before recording it, you bastards!2 But in this egregious act of unmitigated gall, does Psyclops’ Bound to Burn rip me off effectively and enjoyably, at least?

Psyclops just make prog look easy on Bound to Burn: Melody of the Martyr. Taking a page from the Rush playbook, Psyclops play technically demanding and rhythmically dense progressive music in the vein of Between the Buried and Me and Opeth while keeping their songs mostly immediate and accessible. The three-song “Consequences” segue sees Psyclops bouncing between odd, frantic rhythms while sounding as natural as if it were all 4/4, while the “Manifest” trilogy showcases Bound to Burn’s most diverse guitarwork that dazzles without devolving into wankery. “Presence from Beyond” and “Clarity” see awkward vocal intervals and off-kilter riffing, respectively, that make for effortless earworms, and “Begin Anew”‘s guitar arpeggios sound symphonic in a very understated way while rocking out in an uncomplicated fashion. Further, Psyclops swing with some heft with juiced-up, low-end heavy riffing and punchy drums highlighted on the “Indomitable” segue and a crushing death vocal presence established in opener “The Explorer-Errant.” Heavy and catchy, technical and immediate, Bound to Burn is bound to please most any prog fan.

Psyclops’ knack for lean, diverse songwriting brings home the bacon. At thirty-three minutes, Bound to Burn has a story to tell and Psyclops hustle between movements and songs without wasting time on interludes or masturbatory noodling. Crystalline, clean, and plodding doom guitars on “The Explorer-Errant” give way to jagged, Xoth-like riffs and solos on “Consequences I. The Instinct to Survive,” while “Manifest I. Seeing Is Believing” opens the segue with Devin Townsend-like harmonies and progression, only to close out with “Manifest III. The Ouroboros Chorus”‘s Thank You Scientist swinging prog goofiness. The spirit of Mastodon haunts a lot of Bound to Burn as well, particularly in the moody, Crack the Skye-like trippiness of “Presence from Beyond” and the Emperor of Sandesque rock soloing closing out “Manifest II. Warranted Transgression.” Psyclops package all of these influences, moods, and approaches in a way that feels totally cohesive and trimmed of all excess. Bound to Burn is here for a good time, not a long one.

With Bound to Burn: Melody of the Martyr, Psyclops constructed the Anti-Playlist Album. Singled out, individual tracks on Bound to Burn don’t hold up, bearing truncated runtimes and rarely sounding whole alone. But taken altogether, Psyclop’s singular vision comes through. Bound to Burn establishes character motivation quickly and effectively with “The Explorer-Errant,” conflict soon after with “Consequences II” and “III,” and a call to action with “Clarity” that carries Bound to Burn’s plot smoothly right to the end. “Manifest III” and “Begin Anew” feel somewhat rushed in closing the album, and Psyclops could’ve spent more time in those songs to drive it home, but that’s Bound to Burn’s only pacing hiccup. Song transitions are completely seamless on Bound to Burn; with how natural every movement flows into the next, Psyclops could have designated the whole thing as one song, à la Crimson or Winter’s Gate. Simply, Bound to Burn cannot be appreciated or enjoyed fully without being taken in as a whole, and Psyclops facilitates that fact with perfect narrative flow and sequencing.

Psyclops are on my ever-expanding shit list, not because they stole my album but because they did it better than me. Way better. Bound to Burn: Melody of the Martyr is an adventurous, refreshing, and forward-thinking work of music and fiction sure to please prog fans of every stripe. Psyclops hit quick, hit hard, and left me wanting more in the end. Bound to Burn isn’t perfect, but there’s very little to complain about either. But the sequel better have some cannibal gangs.3

Rating: Great
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: WAV
Label: Self-Release
Websites: psyclopsmusic.com | psyclopspdx.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/psyclopspdx
Releases Worldwide: May 22nd, 2026

Psyclops—Portland, Oregon’s progressive metal genre-benders—have some nerve coming my way. I know in my heart of hearts that in writing “their” new record, Bound to Burn: Melody of the Martyr, they committed psychic plagiarism against me and stole the progressive death metal concept album I outlined years ago. A sun-baked Earth struggling to survive? My set-up! A wanderer searching for hope and imbued with religious allusion? My protagonist! A chance encounter with a water deity that brings them to a wellspring of pure, untouched water? More or less my idea! Psyclops just cut out my cannibal gangs and digs against Elon Musk, the hacks. Admittedly, they commissioned a comic book to coincide with Bound to Burn, which I didn’t think of…but very well could’ve!1 I was just waiting to get good at music before recording it, you bastards!2 But in this egregious act of unmitigated gall, does Psyclops’ Bound to Burn rip me off effectively and enjoyably, at least?

Psyclops just make prog look easy on Bound to Burn: Melody of the Martyr. Taking a page from the Rush playbook, Psyclops play technically demanding and rhythmically dense progressive music in the vein of Between the Buried and Me and Opeth while keeping their songs mostly immediate and accessible. The three-song “Consequences” segue sees Psyclops bouncing between odd, frantic rhythms while sounding as natural as if it were all 4/4, while the “Manifest” trilogy showcases Bound to Burn’s most diverse guitarwork that dazzles without devolving into wankery. “Presence from Beyond” and “Clarity” see awkward vocal intervals and off-kilter riffing, respectively, that make for effortless earworms, and “Begin Anew”‘s guitar arpeggios sound symphonic in a very understated way while rocking out in an uncomplicated fashion. Further, Psyclops swing with some heft with juiced-up, low-end heavy riffing and punchy drums highlighted on the “Indomitable” segue and a crushing death vocal presence established in opener “The Explorer-Errant.” Heavy and catchy, technical and immediate, Bound to Burn is bound to please most any prog fan.

Psyclops’ knack for lean, diverse songwriting brings home the bacon. At thirty-three minutes, Bound to Burn has a story to tell and Psyclops hustle between movements and songs without wasting time on interludes or masturbatory noodling. Crystalline, clean, and plodding doom guitars on “The Explorer-Errant” give way to jagged, Xoth-like riffs and solos on “Consequences I. The Instinct to Survive,” while “Manifest I. Seeing Is Believing” opens the segue with Devin Townsend-like harmonies and progression, only to close out with “Manifest III. The Ouroboros Chorus”‘s Thank You Scientist swinging prog goofiness. The spirit of Mastodon haunts a lot of Bound to Burn as well, particularly in the moody, Crack the Skye-like trippiness of “Presence from Beyond” and the Emperor of Sandesque rock soloing closing out “Manifest II. Warranted Transgression.” Psyclops package all of these influences, moods, and approaches in a way that feels totally cohesive and trimmed of all excess. Bound to Burn is here for a good time, not a long one.

With Bound to Burn: Melody of the Martyr, Psyclops constructed the Anti-Playlist Album. Singled out, individual tracks on Bound to Burn don’t hold up, bearing truncated runtimes and rarely sounding whole alone. But taken altogether, Psyclop’s singular vision comes through. Bound to Burn establishes character motivation quickly and effectively with “The Explorer-Errant,” conflict soon after with “Consequences II” and “III,” and a call to action with “Clarity” that carries Bound to Burn’s plot smoothly right to the end. “Manifest III” and “Begin Anew” feel somewhat rushed in closing the album, and Psyclops could’ve spent more time in those songs to drive it home, but that’s Bound to Burn’s only pacing hiccup. Song transitions are completely seamless on Bound to Burn; with how natural every movement flows into the next, Psyclops could have designated the whole thing as one song, à la Crimson or Winter’s Gate. Simply, Bound to Burn cannot be appreciated or enjoyed fully without being taken in as a whole, and Psyclops facilitates that fact with perfect narrative flow and sequencing.

Psyclops are on my ever-expanding shit list, not because they stole my album but because they did it better than me. Way better. Bound to Burn: Melody of the Martyr is an adventurous, refreshing, and forward-thinking work of music and fiction sure to please prog fans of every stripe. Psyclops hit quick, hit hard, and left me wanting more in the end. Bound to Burn isn’t perfect, but there’s very little to complain about either. But the sequel better have some cannibal gangs.3

Rating: Great
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: WAV
Label: Self-Release
Websites: psyclopsmusic.com | psyclopspdx.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/psyclopspdx
Releases Worldwide: May 22nd, 2026

Written By: Aleken’s Gunstrosity

Every year has one magical moment that I look forward to with great anticipation: the first metal release that wows me enough to think it’ll be my AotY. It’s an electric sensation, and it just so happens that Alekhines Gun brought first lightning to my world this year, in the form of atmospheric post-black metal band Silaera’s debut record, An Aberration of the Void. The Chicagoan triplet, established in 2019 as a one-man project, rounded out their lineup with a bassist and a second guitarist last year as they recorded their striking debut. Complete with a stunning Burke piece adorning its cover, An Aberration of the Void left Gun and I with our jaws on the floor, so much so that we had no choice but to write this review together. Two different voices, one unified piece.

An Aberration of the Void is an apt moniker for Silaera’s first outing, as the band masterfully wields all of black metal’s forms as if they were intrinsic properties of their very being. At once gorgeous, frightening, triumphant, and evil, An Aberration of the Void recalls the sweeping flares of Mare Cognitum (“A Celestial Grave”), the gentle caress of Noltem (the first quarter of “Fall into Cosmic Sleep”), the fervent dissonance of Vimur (“From Entropic Dust”), and the devastating heft of the altogether more vicious Keres (“Abhorring the Lifting of Eyes, the middle third of “Fall into Cosmic Sleep”). Yet, Silaera’s talent for transitions and assembly manage to craft a vision like visiting an alien planet; you’ve seen planets before, but none like this, and trying to classify its place in the cosmos in relation to other stars is a waste of time. This planet simply is. An Aberration’s production conjures specters of the celestial in similar fashion, transversely aligning full, rich chords, cavernous reverb, and a deep low end against crystalline shimmers and bright midranges. The result is a magical composition of unknown and unknowable beauty churning with the destructive energy of a collapsing star.

If you need a quick peak into the nebula awaiting, point your telescopes to “Abhorring the Lifting of Eyes,” a masterstroke of composition, creativity, and unpredictability. Launching with a sparkling1 trem-heavy intro, it glides into a long-form riff of cosmic mysticism before variating into a brutally heavy crush, which then spontaneously combusts into a jagged groove attack liable to snap your neck like a toothpick. Tellingly, vocals take a dumbfounding length of time to kick in, but aren’t noticed in their absence until they make their presence known—this serves only to enhance their impact. Moments of contrast like this abound on An Aberration, giving new meaning to the term “beauty and the beast,” but few hit harder than “From Entropic Dust” and epic closer “Fall into Cosmic Sleep” when they offset their impeccable atmospheric allure with deadly swings and terrifying dissonance. Imagine if Cosmic Putrification wrote an album about their feelings and had it produced by Blackbraid, and you’ll almost get it. Silaera takes their songwriting chiaroscuro even further, morphing and mutating phrases with each repetition so radically as to redefine, but never estrange, the tones and textures of the next measure.

That songwriting makes An Aberration of the Void engaging and stimulating from start to finish in spite of its uniformly long-form construction. You’d expect a record where no song falls below six minutes to feature some bloat, but not here. Not a moment wasted, An Aberration arranges compelling choices and elevating decorations around every corner, on both the songwriting and production front. The snare positively crackles and pops when devolving into ferocious blasts, but sibilates and snaps instead during gentler phrases to emphasize mood and atmosphere to great effect (“A Celestial Gaze”). A throaty rasp informs the more intense sections while guttural roars evoke a lurking monstrosity when the moment calls for something more ominous (“Fall into Cosmic Sleep”). Riffs pummel and pound with the terrible force of black holes, but delicate melodies ascend beyond the heavens in tandem to uplift the listener as the event horizon guarantees their final destination (“Abhorring the Lifting of Eyes,” “Fall into Cosmic Sleep”). This interplay of contrast and complement, paired with meticulous detailing, is the unfathomable core of An Aberration of the Void, and the main reason why it universally captivates my attention.

Criticisms are extremely difficult to commit to, not just for me, but also for Gun. Neither one of us felt any held water for longer than a few moments. We nonetheless noted that, for some, Silaera’s disparate references could feel disjointed in the moment,2 with cohesion only coming after focused spins. An Aberration of the Void also does not escape common genre trappings: maximum reverb, more runtime dedicated to slower paces than outright aggression, arpeggios everywhere. But in execution, these small points of contention feel like inseparable parts of the cosmos Silaera created, and what a wondrous cosmos it is.

Rating Consensus: Great!!3
DR: Lost to the Void | Format Reviewed: Bandcamp Stream
Label: Self Released
Websites: silaera.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/Silaera
Releases Worldwide: April 10th, 2026

Written By: Aleken’s Gunstrosity

Every year has one magical moment that I look forward to with great anticipation: the first metal release that wows me enough to think it’ll be my AotY. It’s an electric sensation, and it just so happens that Alekhines Gun brought first lightning to my world this year, in the form of atmospheric post-black metal band Silaera’s debut record, An Aberration of the Void. The Chicagoan triplet, established in 2019 as a one-man project, rounded out their lineup with a bassist and a second guitarist last year as they recorded their striking debut. Complete with a stunning Burke piece adorning its cover, An Aberration of the Void left Gun and I with our jaws on the floor, so much so that we had no choice but to write this review together. Two different voices, one unified piece.

An Aberration of the Void is an apt moniker for Silaera’s first outing, as the band masterfully wields all of black metal’s forms as if they were intrinsic properties of their very being. At once gorgeous, frightening, triumphant, and evil, An Aberration of the Void recalls the sweeping flares of Mare Cognitum (“A Celestial Grave”), the gentle caress of Noltem (the first quarter of “Fall into Cosmic Sleep”), the fervent dissonance of Vimur (“From Entropic Dust”), and the devastating heft of the altogether more vicious Keres (“Abhorring the Lifting of Eyes, the middle third of “Fall into Cosmic Sleep”). Yet, Silaera’s talent for transitions and assembly manage to craft a vision like visiting an alien planet; you’ve seen planets before, but none like this, and trying to classify its place in the cosmos in relation to other stars is a waste of time. This planet simply is. An Aberration’s production conjures specters of the celestial in similar fashion, transversely aligning full, rich chords, cavernous reverb, and a deep low end against crystalline shimmers and bright midranges. The result is a magical composition of unknown and unknowable beauty churning with the destructive energy of a collapsing star.

If you need a quick peak into the nebula awaiting, point your telescopes to “Abhorring the Lifting of Eyes,” a masterstroke of composition, creativity, and unpredictability. Launching with a sparkling1 trem-heavy intro, it glides into a long-form riff of cosmic mysticism before variating into a brutally heavy crush, which then spontaneously combusts into a jagged groove attack liable to snap your neck like a toothpick. Tellingly, vocals take a dumbfounding length of time to kick in, but aren’t noticed in their absence until they make their presence known—this serves only to enhance their impact. Moments of contrast like this abound on An Aberration, giving new meaning to the term “beauty and the beast,” but few hit harder than “From Entropic Dust” and epic closer “Fall into Cosmic Sleep” when they offset their impeccable atmospheric allure with deadly swings and terrifying dissonance. Imagine if Cosmic Putrification wrote an album about their feelings and had it produced by Blackbraid, and you’ll almost get it. Silaera takes their songwriting chiaroscuro even further, morphing and mutating phrases with each repetition so radically as to redefine, but never estrange, the tones and textures of the next measure.

That songwriting makes An Aberration of the Void engaging and stimulating from start to finish in spite of its uniformly long-form construction. You’d expect a record where no song falls below six minutes to feature some bloat, but not here. Not a moment wasted, An Aberration arranges compelling choices and elevating decorations around every corner, on both the songwriting and production front. The snare positively crackles and pops when devolving into ferocious blasts, but sibilates and snaps instead during gentler phrases to emphasize mood and atmosphere to great effect (“A Celestial Gaze”). A throaty rasp informs the more intense sections while guttural roars evoke a lurking monstrosity when the moment calls for something more ominous (“Fall into Cosmic Sleep”). Riffs pummel and pound with the terrible force of black holes, but delicate melodies ascend beyond the heavens in tandem to uplift the listener as the event horizon guarantees their final destination (“Abhorring the Lifting of Eyes,” “Fall into Cosmic Sleep”). This interplay of contrast and complement, paired with meticulous detailing, is the unfathomable core of An Aberration of the Void, and the main reason why it universally captivates my attention.

Criticisms are extremely difficult to commit to, not just for me, but also for Gun. Neither one of us felt any held water for longer than a few moments. We nonetheless noted that, for some, Silaera’s disparate references could feel disjointed in the moment,2 with cohesion only coming after focused spins. An Aberration of the Void also does not escape common genre trappings: maximum reverb, more runtime dedicated to slower paces than outright aggression, arpeggios everywhere. But in execution, these small points of contention feel like inseparable parts of the cosmos Silaera created, and what a wondrous cosmos it is.

Rating Consensus: Great!!3
DR: Lost to the Void | Format Reviewed: Bandcamp Stream
Label: Self Released
Websites: silaera.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/Silaera
Releases Worldwide: April 10th, 2026

Seems like the Filtration system is overburdened once again. Normally, my minions have to scavenge much longer to pick things up this early in the year, but 2026 is proving to be rich in moderately precious metallic ore. That just means I gotta push my team even harder to pull greater loads of filth from the ducts!

As I send them in for yet another round, please enjoy the spoils thus far exploited. BEHOLD!

Kenstrosity’s Tattered Tome

Overtoun // Death Drive Anthropology [February 13th, 2026 – Time to Kill Records]

Chilean progressive death thrash outfit Overtoun is what you get when you mix old school Death and Atheist with the proggier side of Pestilence, then amp the thrash up by a half turn. At a lofty 50 minutes, you’d expect third release Death Drive Anthropology to drag on, but to make that assumption is to criminally underestimate Overtoun’s creativity and versatility. Opening up the throttle in fine form, the one-two punch of “What Unites All (ft. Max Phelps) and “The Final Beat” manages to encompass many of these Chileans’ songwriting and performance skills in a scant 10 minutes. More introspective, nuanced songwriting takes center stage throughout Anthropology’s midsection, balancing smart melodies and minimalist atmosphere with complex guitar layering, proggy structures, and shreddy wizardry (“Dur Khrod,” “Jade, Gold, Obsidian,” “Yurei,” “Weeping”). The three-part “The Waves Suite” suite adds a mystical character to the affair that blends remarkably well with Overtoun’s more overt political messaging and emotional textures, which helps carry the record through its lengthy runtime without causing fatigue. It’s a neat record that’s modestly blemished by a bass presence that begs for more weight and wildness, especially considering the raw talent on hand. Nonetheless, if you’re looking for a creative, thoughtful, and sophisticated entry into the death/thrash progosphere, Death Drive Anthropology makes a strong case.

Andy-War-Hall’s Primordial Pick-Up

The Grand Myth // Of Vultures and Dragons [February 26th, 2026 – Suncrusher Recordings]

I have a grossly limited capacity for seriousness. Yeah, I like my death metal progressive, technical, and thoughtful, much the way Brandon Bordman’s The Grand Myth deliver it on their latest record, Of Vultures and Dragons, but sometimes I just want fun, too. Of Vultures and Dragons, an adaptation of Ethan Pettus’ novel series Primitive War1 in which a rescue team searches a Vietnamese jungle for a missing platoon of Green Berets and fights for their lives against dinosaurs, has fun in spades. Utilizing a many-layered guitar attack (“Symbiotic Death”), shifting and propulsive rhythms (“Through the River Styx”), a wide cast of voice actors for brief narrative bits2 and surprisingly bright tones (“Agony”), The Grand Myth’s approach to progressive death metal isn’t revolutionary, but it’s deeply refreshing and engaging regardless. Though an absolute blast, The Grand Myth doesn’t spew embarrassingly stupid levels of campiness with their sci-fi dinosaur theming like Victorius. Rather, Of Vultures and Dragons can be fairly emotionally effective at times thanks to Bordman’s emotive clean/harsh vocals and elaborate soloing (“Pyre,” “Agony”). Nobody asks about your favorite dinosaur anymore,3 so feed your inner kid with The Grand Myth’s Of Vultures and Dragons now!

Saunders’ Sunken Shards

Puscifer// Normal Isn’t [February 6th, 2026 – Alchemy Recordings]

After losing track of recent offerings, I reacquainted myself with the latest LP from Puscifer, leaving me pleasantly surprised in the aftermath. The project featuring Tool/A Perfect Circle frontman Maynard James Keenan returned for their first hit out since 2020’s Existential Reckoning. Normal Isn’t finds the shape-shifting project embracing its quirky, gothy industrial rock and electronic elements through an angsty filter of guitar-driven arty rock, post-punk, and infectious songcraft. Age should not weary Maynard, as he still sounds angry, cynical, and on point vocally through a mostly engaging, catchy bag of tunes. The dueling vocal melodies with collaborator Carina Round’s ghostly singing work a treat amidst jittery beats, angular riffs and strong electronic overtones. Rhythmically, it is an interesting ride, drummer Gunnar Olsen putting in a top-notch performance, while there is a vaguely progressive edge underlying the hook-centric songwriting. Opener “Thrust” sets the album in motion with sticky hooks, a darkly humorous, unhinged Maynard performance, and a dose of spite. Other key highlights include “Bad Wolf,” “Self Evident,” “A Public Stoning,” and “ImpetuoUs.” Puscifer made a fine return with Normal Isn’t.

Jack Harlon & The Dead Crows // Inexorable Opposites [February 6th, 2026 – Magnetic Eye Records]

You’ve gotta love a sneaky name drop from our trusty commentariat. It has led to many great discoveries over the years. On this occasion, one of our dear commenters enlightened me to Melbourne psych-blues-doomers Jack Harlon & the Dead Crows with fourth LP, Inexorable Opposites. And it didn’t take long absorbing this latest slab of rustic Aussie coolness to be struck by the album’s slow-burning, addictive power, and gritty tones. Boasting an expansive, rugged sound built on layers of distortion and a weighty blend of psych-drenched blues and doom heaviness. Jack Harlon & the Dead Crows features old school, outlaw-driven lyrical content from mastermind and vocalist/guitarist Tim Coutts-Smith, meshing fictional tales of woe and adventure of character Jack Harlon, with relatable real-life struggles. Through the fuzz, thick jammy vibes, and Coutts-Smith distorted, menacing Aussie drawl, catchy songcraft shines through the muck and psych haze. From the tense, stoner-infected grit and catchy hooks of opener “Moss,” through to the stormy outback balladry of closer “To Die,” Inexorable Opposites is a hard-hitting, riffy delight, further evidenced through scorched earth, infectious cuts like “Venomous,” “Seer,” and the trippy, drug-addled “Mt. Macedon.”

Grin Reaper’s Reaped Recluse

Cold Communion // Monuments to Ruin [February 13th, 2026 – Self Released]

Melodic death/doom isn’t a genre I dabble in often, but every now and again, one of its bands thwarts my defenses and wraps their tendrils around my precious listening time. Durham, North Carolina’s Cold Communion is one such band, featuring Barre Gambling (Daylight Dies) on guitar and Tim Rowland (Alchemy of Flesh, Silent Vigil) on everything else. If that sounds like an unfair split, take a spin and reassess, because Gambling’s performance defines Cold Communion’s melancholic character as much as Rowland’s emotive growl. Forgoing any long-form doom epics, Monuments to Ruin’s longest song comes in at five-and-a-half minutes, with the entire album clocking just forty-five. It’s a tidy platter, and both in song composition and mood shares ample common ground with Finnish sadbois Insomnium. Besides Monuments’ superior production, songs like “A Stillness Survival” and “When the Light Breaks” wouldn’t feel out of place on Across the Dark or One for Sorrow. And despite the somber trappings one might expect from doom-adjacency, there’s plenty of lively riffing and solos to find across Monuments to Ruin, adding a touch of boom to the gloom. In the end, Cold Communion doesn’t reinvent the genre or break new ground, but Monuments to Ruin offers a comfy chair by the fireside on a freezing cold day, and I’m perfectly content with that.

Mossgiver // Renewer [February 6th, 2026 – Sij MusicArt]

Atmospheric black metal often contrasts the beautiful with the bestial, typically prioritizing moods over hooks. ‘Twas a delight, then, to unearth Mossgiver’s Renewal, which deftly combines the two. Weaving together hypnotic passages flooded with strings, piano, flute, synths, double bass rolls, and the requisite blackened tremolos,4 Mossgiver’s mastermind Tilen Šimon (Ueldes) delivers the band’s best record to date. Above all, Renewer sounds like a celebration of nature in the vein of Autrest and Cân Bardd, evoking a whispering wind whipping at leaves or sunlight dappling a brook shaded by oaks and maples. Beyond the well-crafted soundtrack for a walk through the woods, Mossgiver etches emotion into the nooks and crannies of Renewer’s five tracks. From rousing string orchestrations (“I Bring the Spring with Me”) to soft-and-heavy tradeoffs pitting clean guitar and pan pipes against distorted guitar and blast beats (“Renewer”), Mossgiver shimmers with a lush backdrop of instrumentation rife with playfulness and pensiveness. The trio of primary songs5 revolve around powerful melodies that evolve over each track’s duration, with assorted instruments coming in and out to push refrains along. Renewer’s brisk thirty-four minutes showcase Mossgiver’s sticky compositions and leave me whistling its melodies for days at a time. Now throw on your hiking boots and get lost in the Moss.

Ossomancer // Banebdjed’s Path [February 28th, 2026 – Esoteric Evocations]

Six-and-a-half years removed from Ossomancer’s debut Artes Magickae, lone wolf and mastermind Kamose returns to tread Banebjed’s Path. Bursting with references to mythology and mysticism, Banebjed’s Path rumbles and shakes with arcane thunder. Although the backdrop and track names might recall the frenzied onslaught of Nile, Ossomancer instead conceives a realm recalling Aeternam, Iotunn, and Naglfar. Despite the scant thirty-four-minute runtime, Banebjed’s Path sprawls across diverse landscapes and textures. Opener “The Ogdoad Arrangement and the Osirian Creation” oscillates between In Flames melodies and a slinky crawl that could pass for a 90s Geddy Lee bass line played over synth injections from Rush’s 80s era. Follow-up track “Sobek – Cosmic Vibrations Devoured” features Kreator-bred riffing, while closing duo “A Sea of Sand, a Silver Star” and “Retraction into Kether” synthesize the ethereal atmospheres of Iotunn with the blackened assault of Naglfar. Through it all, Ossomancer sounds fabulous, as Banebjed’s Path flaunts an enviable DR 8 and a bodacious mix that spotlights its burly bass performance. Ossomancer’s sophomore outing is crammed with meloblack goodies, and though it’s not a long trek, the journey down Banebjed’s Path far transcends its distance.

Tyme’s Danish Dalliance

Ædel Fetich // Ædel Fetich [February 20th, 2026 – Deadbanger Productions]

That blinged-out pink dish-glove-clad hand is what first drew me to Denmark outfit Ædel Fetich’s self-titled debut. Then I clicked play and was taken on one of the more compelling “black” metal rides in recent memory. With roots primarily buried in the soil of the traditional second-wave, Ædel Fetich is rife with moments of rifferous tremolodic speed (“Ridderlig Lider,” “Madras”) and absolutely berserk guitar chaos (“Sort Magi”). There’s a Trhä-like sense of experimentation, and the rawness of the production enhances the oft-changing compositions, which, like weather in the Midwest, often shift on a dime without warning. Luckily, Ædel Fetich’s adept songwriting organically smooths these transitions, which could have easily come off stilted and jarring, but makes drawing direct comparisons to the Ædel Fetich sound difficult, as there’s a spectrum of other influences at play. There are tracks packed with punky punch (“Et Liv Fuld af Fejl,” “Ildtang”) or imbued with folky reverence (“Mit Billede af Dig”) and even some 80s pop—fans of the movie Flashdance shouldn’t have a problem finding the poppy easter egg hiding near the end of “Sort Magi.”6 Far and away the star of the show, however, is singer Skvat, whose performance is filled with as much black metal bravado as it is theatrical exuberance, his arsenal of shrieks, growls, hoots, howls, and operatic baritonations a refreshing treat, akin to if Mike Patton woke up one day deciding to record a Danish black metal album. Bottom line is, I really dig Ædel Fetich and think you will too.

Creeping Ivy’s Ashen Afterthought

Belzebong // The End is High [February 20th, 2026 – Heavy Psych Sounds]

In my humble opinion, lyrics are key to making stoner metal more than novelty music. If you’re referencing reefer in your album art, band name, and song titles, at least keep the reeferisms out of the songs themselves,7 or better yet, avoid vocals altogether. Taking this latter advice to heart is instrumental Polish four-piece Belzebong, who have been at it for almost 20 years now. On The End is High, their fourth full-length, Belzebong deal 35 minutes of fuzzed-out riffery described as “a new sermon for the final days.” While not as highbrow (huh huh) as the instrumental stoner metal of Bongripper, Belzebong are similarly ominous on opener (yes) “Bong & Chain,” which caps its ten-minute burn with creepy, haunting synths. From there, the band settle into material more akin to Bongzilla; sound clips adorn the chill grooves of “420 Horsemen,” “Hempnotized,” and “Reefer Mortis,” which closes things out with some solid Electric Wizard worship. If you instinctively (and understandably) recoil from music with marijuana aesthetics but dig the meditative repetition offered by stoner metal, consider sampling The End is High. It’s not exactly the caricature it advertises itself as.

Baguette’s Bygone Bounty

Sundecay // The Blood Lives Again [February 13th, 2026 – Self Released]

Toronto’s Sundecay has been around for a while. These Canadian doomers spawned sometime prior to 2014, quietly releasing EP material every once in a blue moon. The Blood Lives Again is their first full-length release—their first signs of life since 2018 in general—and the time and care they took to develop their sound and songwriting prowess pays off here in spades. The doom and proto-doom inspirations from Black Sabbath to Saint Vitus are obvious (“Here Comes the Wizard”), complemented by other influences from proto-metal, psychedelic, and progressive music (“Silence Spoken”). The hefty, layered guitars have a nice fuzz without fully landing in stoner territory. Ambitious long-form tracks like “Will Dusk Defy Dawn” flow like water while carrying significant emotional heft. Lastly, a moody, reverb-heavy vocal performance crowns the classic doom trance the band is aiming for. At five tracks and some 43 minutes, The Blood Lives Again is a total vibe and flies by before you’ve even noticed. Fans of the ’70s should take notes!

Temple Balls // Temple Balls [February 13th, 2026 – Frontiers Music]

One of the most authentic ways you can honor rock music tradition is via questionable naming conventions. On an unrelated note, Temple Balls is a Finnish hard rock/glam rock band, and they’re fun as hell! They’re not particularly new around the block, either: the group formed in 2009, and self-titled Temple Balls is already their fifth album since debut Traded Dreams in 2017. 2023’s Avalanche felt like a watershed moment, a welcome surprise that brought some new life and energy to a fairly dated genre of Europeisms and Hanoi Rocks rehashes. Temple Balls proves that Avalanche wasn’t a one-off, continuing their extremely authentic throwback approach. The heavy/power-metal-meets-AOR direction of songwriting (“Flashback Dynamite,” “Soul Survivor”) gives it that extra guitar oomph and energy that melodic music like this requires to be anywhere near competitive. With great all-out vocals from Arde Teronen and gigantic hooks to match, it’s just a damn good time front to back. Though it will sadly be the last time we’ll hear Niko Vuorela’s guitar work on record (R.I.P., and fuck cancer), the self-titled is certainly a worthy final milestone for him—and hopefully, another beginning for his comrades.

ClarkKent’s Enchanting Earworm

Hela // A Reign to Conquer [February 27, 2026 – Ardua Music]

Just as it put a pause on many plans and projects, the COVID pandemic slowed down the output of Spain’s Hela. A Reign to Conquer marks their first record since 2019’s Vegvìsir, which was their third release since 2013. This brief hiatus brought new blood in the form of vocalist Raquel Navarro, though, in truth, the only consistency in Hela’s lineup is the other three members—Tano Giménez on bass, Miguel Fernández (The Holeum) on drums, and Julián Velasco (The Holeum) on guitars. They have a deep bond, first forged in 2009 with The Sand Collector before forming Hela just three years later. Though they brand Hela as melodic doom, and the band does have a little in common with Katatonia, I think it’s more accurate to describe them as dreamy progressive rock. Navarro is a major reason for this, with dreamy croons that guide listeners through breezy soundscapes. She bears a passing resemblance to Maud the Moth, though the music Hela plays is decidedly more metal than our Dolphin friend’s favorite nocturnal insect. Guitarist Velasco plays a hypnotizing mix of atmospheric fuzz, crushing doom, and melodic riffs that add some heft and crunch to the ethereal sound. A Reign to Conquer has plenty of layers to probe, rewarding listeners who bear with it for repeat listens. While my initial spins left me wanting, I’ve since become spellbound. Add to that some gorgeous artwork, and this is a nice addition to anyone’s vinyl collection. Hela yeah!

Spicie Forrest’s Vicious Vittles

A Wilhelm Scream8 // Cheap Heat [February 27th, 2026 – Creator-Destructor Records]

A Wilhelm Scream9 returns after a four-year hiatus with their eighth long player, Cheap Heat. Sounding like the best combination of The Story So Far and Rise Against, A Wilhelm Scream delivers an impressive tour de force so late in their career. Vocalist Nuno Pereira10 is the highlight of Cheap Heat, driving the album with urgency and passion (“Somebody’s Gonna Die,” “Fell Off”), but no one here is a slouch. The rhythm section—bassist Brian J. Robinson, rhythm guitarist Trevor Reilly, and drummer Nicholas Pasquale Angelini—gleefully tosses gas on Pereira’s bonfire (“I Got Tunnel Vision”) and delivers solid grooves (“Poison II”) and searing ragers (“Unsolving the Mystery”) that keep the energy cranked to 11 all through Cheap Heat. Hooks are by far the most common lead duty, and Ben Murray puts on a fucking clinic. Each note that rings out from his axe sounds like it fucking owns the place (“Run,” “Visitor: Unimpressed”). Cheap Heat is a smidge front-loaded with “Midnight Ghost” and “I Got Tunnel Vision” being album highlights, but no song on here is anything short of a barn burner. At a super tight 28 minutes, Cheap Heat hits hard and fast and gets the fuck out of Dodge before you’re even sure what hit you. I didn’t expect a 26-year-old hardcore outfit to knock my teeth out when I queued it up on a whim one morning, but Cheap Heat is proving to be one of my favorite albums of the year.

Lead Injector // Witching Attack [February 20th, 2026 – High Roller Records]

Who doesn’t like the combination of thrash’s unchained aggression and black metal’s cold hate? There’s never been a better pair. Lead Injector hit the ground running on debut LP Witching Attack. From the opening moments of “Siege Upon Heaven” to the closing moments of “Nuclear Antichrist,” Lead Injector is here to do two things: feed high-speed buckshot to God, skeletons, and anything else that gets in their way, and have a Hellripping good time. “Angel Destructor” and “Siege Upon Heaven” barrel pell-mell through searing riffs and blast beats, while groovier tracks like “Evil Executioner” and “Nuclear Antichrist” let black metal’s punk ancestry shine through. Heavy metal influences a la Judas Priest can be found injected into tracks like “Sacrifice This Bitch” and “M.C.C.I.” While nothing about Lead Injector’s sound is particularly new, I’m not sure that’s a bad thing. This debut is a unique and retro spin on a tried-and-true formula that bodes well for a young band. Witching Attack is a killer time that Ash Williams would gladly spin while boomsticking Deadites alongside Lord Arthur’s army.

Seems like the Filtration system is overburdened once again. Normally, my minions have to scavenge much longer to pick things up this early in the year, but 2026 is proving to be rich in moderately precious metallic ore. That just means I gotta push my team even harder to pull greater loads of filth from the ducts!

As I send them in for yet another round, please enjoy the spoils thus far exploited. BEHOLD!

Kenstrosity’s Tattered Tome

Overtoun // Death Drive Anthropology [February 13th, 2026 – Time to Kill Records]

Chilean progressive death thrash outfit Overtoun is what you get when you mix old school Death and Atheist with the proggier side of Pestilence, then amp the thrash up by a half turn. At a lofty 50 minutes, you’d expect third release Death Drive Anthropology to drag on, but to make that assumption is to criminally underestimate Overtoun’s creativity and versatility. Opening up the throttle in fine form, the one-two punch of “What Unites All (ft. Max Phelps) and “The Final Beat” manages to encompass many of these Chileans’ songwriting and performance skills in a scant 10 minutes. More introspective, nuanced songwriting takes center stage throughout Anthropology’s midsection, balancing smart melodies and minimalist atmosphere with complex guitar layering, proggy structures, and shreddy wizardry (“Dur Khrod,” “Jade, Gold, Obsidian,” “Yurei,” “Weeping”). The three-part “The Waves Suite” suite adds a mystical character to the affair that blends remarkably well with Overtoun’s more overt political messaging and emotional textures, which helps carry the record through its lengthy runtime without causing fatigue. It’s a neat record that’s modestly blemished by a bass presence that begs for more weight and wildness, especially considering the raw talent on hand. Nonetheless, if you’re looking for a creative, thoughtful, and sophisticated entry into the death/thrash progosphere, Death Drive Anthropology makes a strong case.

Andy-War-Hall’s Primordial Pick-Up

The Grand Myth // Of Vultures and Dragons [February 26th, 2026 – Suncrusher Recordings]

I have a grossly limited capacity for seriousness. Yeah, I like my death metal progressive, technical, and thoughtful, much the way Brandon Bordman’s The Grand Myth deliver it on their latest record, Of Vultures and Dragons, but sometimes I just want fun, too. Of Vultures and Dragons, an adaptation of Ethan Pettus’ novel series Primitive War1 in which a rescue team searches a Vietnamese jungle for a missing platoon of Green Berets and fights for their lives against dinosaurs, has fun in spades. Utilizing a many-layered guitar attack (“Symbiotic Death”), shifting and propulsive rhythms (“Through the River Styx”), a wide cast of voice actors for brief narrative bits2 and surprisingly bright tones (“Agony”), The Grand Myth’s approach to progressive death metal isn’t revolutionary, but it’s deeply refreshing and engaging regardless. Though an absolute blast, The Grand Myth doesn’t spew embarrassingly stupid levels of campiness with their sci-fi dinosaur theming like Victorius. Rather, Of Vultures and Dragons can be fairly emotionally effective at times thanks to Bordman’s emotive clean/harsh vocals and elaborate soloing (“Pyre,” “Agony”). Nobody asks about your favorite dinosaur anymore,3 so feed your inner kid with The Grand Myth’s Of Vultures and Dragons now!

Saunders’ Sunken Shards

Puscifer// Normal Isn’t [February 6th, 2026 – Alchemy Recordings]

After losing track of recent offerings, I reacquainted myself with the latest LP from Puscifer, leaving me pleasantly surprised in the aftermath. The project featuring Tool/A Perfect Circle frontman Maynard James Keenan returned for their first hit out since 2020’s Existential Reckoning. Normal Isn’t finds the shape-shifting project embracing its quirky, gothy industrial rock and electronic elements through an angsty filter of guitar-driven arty rock, post-punk, and infectious songcraft. Age should not weary Maynard, as he still sounds angry, cynical, and on point vocally through a mostly engaging, catchy bag of tunes. The dueling vocal melodies with collaborator Carina Round’s ghostly singing work a treat amidst jittery beats, angular riffs and strong electronic overtones. Rhythmically, it is an interesting ride, drummer Gunnar Olsen putting in a top-notch performance, while there is a vaguely progressive edge underlying the hook-centric songwriting. Opener “Thrust” sets the album in motion with sticky hooks, a darkly humorous, unhinged Maynard performance, and a dose of spite. Other key highlights include “Bad Wolf,” “Self Evident,” “A Public Stoning,” and “ImpetuoUs.” Puscifer made a fine return with Normal Isn’t.

Jack Harlon & The Dead Crows // Inexorable Opposites [February 6th, 2026 – Magnetic Eye Records]

You’ve gotta love a sneaky name drop from our trusty commentariat. It has led to many great discoveries over the years. On this occasion, one of our dear commenters enlightened me to Melbourne psych-blues-doomers Jack Harlon & the Dead Crows with fourth LP, Inexorable Opposites. And it didn’t take long absorbing this latest slab of rustic Aussie coolness to be struck by the album’s slow-burning, addictive power, and gritty tones. Boasting an expansive, rugged sound built on layers of distortion and a weighty blend of psych-drenched blues and doom heaviness. Jack Harlon & the Dead Crows features old school, outlaw-driven lyrical content from mastermind and vocalist/guitarist Tim Coutts-Smith, meshing fictional tales of woe and adventure of character Jack Harlon, with relatable real-life struggles. Through the fuzz, thick jammy vibes, and Coutts-Smith distorted, menacing Aussie drawl, catchy songcraft shines through the muck and psych haze. From the tense, stoner-infected grit and catchy hooks of opener “Moss,” through to the stormy outback balladry of closer “To Die,” Inexorable Opposites is a hard-hitting, riffy delight, further evidenced through scorched earth, infectious cuts like “Venomous,” “Seer,” and the trippy, drug-addled “Mt. Macedon.”

Grin Reaper’s Reaped Recluse

Cold Communion // Monuments to Ruin [February 13th, 2026 – Self Released]

Melodic death/doom isn’t a genre I dabble in often, but every now and again, one of its bands thwarts my defenses and wraps their tendrils around my precious listening time. Durham, North Carolina’s Cold Communion is one such band, featuring Barre Gambling (Daylight Dies) on guitar and Tim Rowland (Alchemy of Flesh, Silent Vigil) on everything else. If that sounds like an unfair split, take a spin and reassess, because Gambling’s performance defines Cold Communion’s melancholic character as much as Rowland’s emotive growl. Forgoing any long-form doom epics, Monuments to Ruin’s longest song comes in at five-and-a-half minutes, with the entire album clocking just forty-five. It’s a tidy platter, and both in song composition and mood shares ample common ground with Finnish sadbois Insomnium. Besides Monuments’ superior production, songs like “A Stillness Survival” and “When the Light Breaks” wouldn’t feel out of place on Across the Dark or One for Sorrow. And despite the somber trappings one might expect from doom-adjacency, there’s plenty of lively riffing and solos to find across Monuments to Ruin, adding a touch of boom to the gloom. In the end, Cold Communion doesn’t reinvent the genre or break new ground, but Monuments to Ruin offers a comfy chair by the fireside on a freezing cold day, and I’m perfectly content with that.

Mossgiver // Renewer [February 6th, 2026 – Sij MusicArt]

Atmospheric black metal often contrasts the beautiful with the bestial, typically prioritizing moods over hooks. ‘Twas a delight, then, to unearth Mossgiver’s Renewal, which deftly combines the two. Weaving together hypnotic passages flooded with strings, piano, flute, synths, double bass rolls, and the requisite blackened tremolos,4 Mossgiver’s mastermind Tilen Šimon (Ueldes) delivers the band’s best record to date. Above all, Renewer sounds like a celebration of nature in the vein of Autrest and Cân Bardd, evoking a whispering wind whipping at leaves or sunlight dappling a brook shaded by oaks and maples. Beyond the well-crafted soundtrack for a walk through the woods, Mossgiver etches emotion into the nooks and crannies of Renewer’s five tracks. From rousing string orchestrations (“I Bring the Spring with Me”) to soft-and-heavy tradeoffs pitting clean guitar and pan pipes against distorted guitar and blast beats (“Renewer”), Mossgiver shimmers with a lush backdrop of instrumentation rife with playfulness and pensiveness. The trio of primary songs5 revolve around powerful melodies that evolve over each track’s duration, with assorted instruments coming in and out to push refrains along. Renewer’s brisk thirty-four minutes showcase Mossgiver’s sticky compositions and leave me whistling its melodies for days at a time. Now throw on your hiking boots and get lost in the Moss.

Ossomancer // Banebdjed’s Path [February 28th, 2026 – Esoteric Evocations]

Six-and-a-half years removed from Ossomancer’s debut Artes Magickae, lone wolf and mastermind Kamose returns to tread Banebjed’s Path. Bursting with references to mythology and mysticism, Banebjed’s Path rumbles and shakes with arcane thunder. Although the backdrop and track names might recall the frenzied onslaught of Nile, Ossomancer instead conceives a realm recalling Aeternam, Iotunn, and Naglfar. Despite the scant thirty-four-minute runtime, Banebjed’s Path sprawls across diverse landscapes and textures. Opener “The Ogdoad Arrangement and the Osirian Creation” oscillates between In Flames melodies and a slinky crawl that could pass for a 90s Geddy Lee bass line played over synth injections from Rush’s 80s era. Follow-up track “Sobek – Cosmic Vibrations Devoured” features Kreator-bred riffing, while closing duo “A Sea of Sand, a Silver Star” and “Retraction into Kether” synthesize the ethereal atmospheres of Iotunn with the blackened assault of Naglfar. Through it all, Ossomancer sounds fabulous, as Banebjed’s Path flaunts an enviable DR 8 and a bodacious mix that spotlights its burly bass performance. Ossomancer’s sophomore outing is crammed with meloblack goodies, and though it’s not a long trek, the journey down Banebjed’s Path far transcends its distance.

Tyme’s Danish Dalliance

Ædel Fetich // Ædel Fetich [February 20th, 2026 – Deadbanger Productions]

That blinged-out pink dish-glove-clad hand is what first drew me to Denmark outfit Ædel Fetich’s self-titled debut. Then I clicked play and was taken on one of the more compelling “black” metal rides in recent memory. With roots primarily buried in the soil of the traditional second-wave, Ædel Fetich is rife with moments of rifferous tremolodic speed (“Ridderlig Lider,” “Madras”) and absolutely berserk guitar chaos (“Sort Magi”). There’s a Trhä-like sense of experimentation, and the rawness of the production enhances the oft-changing compositions, which, like weather in the Midwest, often shift on a dime without warning. Luckily, Ædel Fetich’s adept songwriting organically smooths these transitions, which could have easily come off stilted and jarring, but makes drawing direct comparisons to the Ædel Fetich sound difficult, as there’s a spectrum of other influences at play. There are tracks packed with punky punch (“Et Liv Fuld af Fejl,” “Ildtang”) or imbued with folky reverence (“Mit Billede af Dig”) and even some 80s pop—fans of the movie Flashdance shouldn’t have a problem finding the poppy easter egg hiding near the end of “Sort Magi.”6 Far and away the star of the show, however, is singer Skvat, whose performance is filled with as much black metal bravado as it is theatrical exuberance, his arsenal of shrieks, growls, hoots, howls, and operatic baritonations a refreshing treat, akin to if Mike Patton woke up one day deciding to record a Danish black metal album. Bottom line is, I really dig Ædel Fetich and think you will too.

Creeping Ivy’s Ashen Afterthought

Belzebong // The End is High [February 20th, 2026 – Heavy Psych Sounds]

In my humble opinion, lyrics are key to making stoner metal more than novelty music. If you’re referencing reefer in your album art, band name, and song titles, at least keep the reeferisms out of the songs themselves,7 or better yet, avoid vocals altogether. Taking this latter advice to heart is instrumental Polish four-piece Belzebong, who have been at it for almost 20 years now. On The End is High, their fourth full-length, Belzebong deal 35 minutes of fuzzed-out riffery described as “a new sermon for the final days.” While not as highbrow (huh huh) as the instrumental stoner metal of Bongripper, Belzebong are similarly ominous on opener (yes) “Bong & Chain,” which caps its ten-minute burn with creepy, haunting synths. From there, the band settle into material more akin to Bongzilla; sound clips adorn the chill grooves of “420 Horsemen,” “Hempnotized,” and “Reefer Mortis,” which closes things out with some solid Electric Wizard worship. If you instinctively (and understandably) recoil from music with marijuana aesthetics but dig the meditative repetition offered by stoner metal, consider sampling The End is High. It’s not exactly the caricature it advertises itself as.

Baguette’s Bygone Bounty

Sundecay // The Blood Lives Again [February 13th, 2026 – Self Released]

Toronto’s Sundecay has been around for a while. These Canadian doomers spawned sometime prior to 2014, quietly releasing EP material every once in a blue moon. The Blood Lives Again is their first full-length release—their first signs of life since 2018 in general—and the time and care they took to develop their sound and songwriting prowess pays off here in spades. The doom and proto-doom inspirations from Black Sabbath to Saint Vitus are obvious (“Here Comes the Wizard”), complemented by other influences from proto-metal, psychedelic, and progressive music (“Silence Spoken”). The hefty, layered guitars have a nice fuzz without fully landing in stoner territory. Ambitious long-form tracks like “Will Dusk Defy Dawn” flow like water while carrying significant emotional heft. Lastly, a moody, reverb-heavy vocal performance crowns the classic doom trance the band is aiming for. At five tracks and some 43 minutes, The Blood Lives Again is a total vibe and flies by before you’ve even noticed. Fans of the ’70s should take notes!

Temple Balls // Temple Balls [February 13th, 2026 – Frontiers Music]

One of the most authentic ways you can honor rock music tradition is via questionable naming conventions. On an unrelated note, Temple Balls is a Finnish hard rock/glam rock band, and they’re fun as hell! They’re not particularly new around the block, either: the group formed in 2009, and self-titled Temple Balls is already their fifth album since debut Traded Dreams in 2017. 2023’s Avalanche felt like a watershed moment, a welcome surprise that brought some new life and energy to a fairly dated genre of Europeisms and Hanoi Rocks rehashes. Temple Balls proves that Avalanche wasn’t a one-off, continuing their extremely authentic throwback approach. The heavy/power-metal-meets-AOR direction of songwriting (“Flashback Dynamite,” “Soul Survivor”) gives it that extra guitar oomph and energy that melodic music like this requires to be anywhere near competitive. With great all-out vocals from Arde Teronen and gigantic hooks to match, it’s just a damn good time front to back. Though it will sadly be the last time we’ll hear Niko Vuorela’s guitar work on record (R.I.P., and fuck cancer), the self-titled is certainly a worthy final milestone for him—and hopefully, another beginning for his comrades.

ClarkKent’s Enchanting Earworm

Hela // A Reign to Conquer [February 27, 2026 – Ardua Music]

Just as it put a pause on many plans and projects, the COVID pandemic slowed down the output of Spain’s Hela. A Reign to Conquer marks their first record since 2019’s Vegvìsir, which was their third release since 2013. This brief hiatus brought new blood in the form of vocalist Raquel Navarro, though, in truth, the only consistency in Hela’s lineup is the other three members—Tano Giménez on bass, Miguel Fernández (The Holeum) on drums, and Julián Velasco (The Holeum) on guitars. They have a deep bond, first forged in 2009 with The Sand Collector before forming Hela just three years later. Though they brand Hela as melodic doom, and the band does have a little in common with Katatonia, I think it’s more accurate to describe them as dreamy progressive rock. Navarro is a major reason for this, with dreamy croons that guide listeners through breezy soundscapes. She bears a passing resemblance to Maud the Moth, though the music Hela plays is decidedly more metal than our Dolphin friend’s favorite nocturnal insect. Guitarist Velasco plays a hypnotizing mix of atmospheric fuzz, crushing doom, and melodic riffs that add some heft and crunch to the ethereal sound. A Reign to Conquer has plenty of layers to probe, rewarding listeners who bear with it for repeat listens. While my initial spins left me wanting, I’ve since become spellbound. Add to that some gorgeous artwork, and this is a nice addition to anyone’s vinyl collection. Hela yeah!

Spicie Forrest’s Vicious Vittles

A Wilhelm Scream8 // Cheap Heat [February 27th, 2026 – Creator-Destructor Records]

A Wilhelm Scream9 returns after a four-year hiatus with their eighth long player, Cheap Heat. Sounding like the best combination of The Story So Far and Rise Against, A Wilhelm Scream delivers an impressive tour de force so late in their career. Vocalist Nuno Pereira10 is the highlight of Cheap Heat, driving the album with urgency and passion (“Somebody’s Gonna Die,” “Fell Off”), but no one here is a slouch. The rhythm section—bassist Brian J. Robinson, rhythm guitarist Trevor Reilly, and drummer Nicholas Pasquale Angelini—gleefully tosses gas on Pereira’s bonfire (“I Got Tunnel Vision”) and delivers solid grooves (“Poison II”) and searing ragers (“Unsolving the Mystery”) that keep the energy cranked to 11 all through Cheap Heat. Hooks are by far the most common lead duty, and Ben Murray puts on a fucking clinic. Each note that rings out from his axe sounds like it fucking owns the place (“Run,” “Visitor: Unimpressed”). Cheap Heat is a smidge front-loaded with “Midnight Ghost” and “I Got Tunnel Vision” being album highlights, but no song on here is anything short of a barn burner. At a super tight 28 minutes, Cheap Heat hits hard and fast and gets the fuck out of Dodge before you’re even sure what hit you. I didn’t expect a 26-year-old hardcore outfit to knock my teeth out when I queued it up on a whim one morning, but Cheap Heat is proving to be one of my favorite albums of the year.

Lead Injector // Witching Attack [February 20th, 2026 – High Roller Records]

Who doesn’t like the combination of thrash’s unchained aggression and black metal’s cold hate? There’s never been a better pair. Lead Injector hit the ground running on debut LP Witching Attack. From the opening moments of “Siege Upon Heaven” to the closing moments of “Nuclear Antichrist,” Lead Injector is here to do two things: feed high-speed buckshot to God, skeletons, and anything else that gets in their way, and have a Hellripping good time. “Angel Destructor” and “Siege Upon Heaven” barrel pell-mell through searing riffs and blast beats, while groovier tracks like “Evil Executioner” and “Nuclear Antichrist” let black metal’s punk ancestry shine through. Heavy metal influences a la Judas Priest can be found injected into tracks like “Sacrifice This Bitch” and “M.C.C.I.” While nothing about Lead Injector’s sound is particularly new, I’m not sure that’s a bad thing. This debut is a unique and retro spin on a tried-and-true formula that bodes well for a young band. Witching Attack is a killer time that Ash Williams would gladly spin while boomsticking Deadites alongside Lord Arthur’s army.

Dutch interdisciplinary artist Nedda Sou drops the Inward EP, a self-released trio of emotionally charged deep house and broken beat fusions. #music #neddasou #inward #selfreleased

https://evl.one/inward-ep-by-nedda-sou

Dutch interdisciplinary artist Nedda Sou drops the Inward EP, a self-released trio of emotionally charged deep house and broken beat fusions. #music #neddasou #inward #selfreleased

https://evl.one/inward-ep-by-nedda-sou

Without question, Friday is my favorite day of the week. Even more tantalizing than the conclusion to an often grueling gauntlet of meetings, feedback, and GSD,1 I’m blessed with metal’s new releases. Trying to listen to everything that comes out is a fool’s errand—luckily, I’m a fool. During one of my customary Friday excursions, fortune smiled upon me when I stumbled onto Graufar’s sophomore opus, Via Necropolis. As I listened, the album’s grooves, riffs, and passions bathed me in blackened deathly glory. My luck persisted through the morning—Graufar’s promo still lurked unclaimed in the bin. Yoink! Though I discovered Via Necropolis late, I was powerless to resist the call of a review, especially given the band’s unsigned/independent status. Thus saddled with an unplanned bit of writing and a pocketful of tunes, let us sojourn down Necropolis way.

Too many blackened death metal bands present a mixed bag of half-measures.2 To me, the peak allure of the subgenre promises the brutality and technicality of death metal united with black metal’s icy atmospherics and raw aesthetics. The quintessentially boilerplate BDM band brews a tepid concoction featuring a death metal base with black metal spices; fortunately, Graufar averts getting mired in pedestrian trappings. Honing a sound established on debut Scordalus, Via Necropolis flaunts chilly trems, grating rasps, and a coat of corpse paint that betrays their blackened heart, and it beats with the blood of Dissection, Necrophobic, and Rimfrost. Death metal’s influence is more subtle, skulking in chugging grooves and vicious growls that blend in seamlessly.

Via Necropolis by Graufar

Though Graufar’s performances across Via Necropolis merit praise, vocalist Gernot Graf deserves special recognition. His scathing vocals loose misery and malevolence that arouse a primal reflex, making my throat twinge at the thought of snarling along. Tracks like “Blizzard and Blaze” and “Foltertrog” exhibit Graf’s penchant for wringing out every ounce of emotion, from vitriol to agony. Black metal rasps aren’t his only trick, though. Graf roars with an insatiable fire on “Charon” and “Buried in Flames,” devolving into bestial throes within “Heralds of Doom” and “Via Necropolis” and ensuring that his versatile performance never lacks conviction or fervor. Graf also plays guitar alongside Michael Herber, and together they fashion a glittering heap of licks, leads, and grooves. And it’s the latter that stands out the most, because while death metal regularly brandishes them, black metal rarely deigns to approve the groove. Meanwhile, “Buried in Flames” and “On Your Knees” demonstrate Graufar’s shrewd understanding of songwriting, and bolstered by Thomas Buchmeier’s slinky bass and René Hinum’s precision drumming, Via Necropolis positively thrums.

Throughout Via Necropolis, Graufar dazzles with their ability to conjure dynamic arrangements informed by influences. Kicking off with a Dissection-coded intro on “Blizzard and Blaze,” Graufar mingles with mellow cleans, slithers through second-wave savagery reminiscent of Mayhem,3 and even dabbles in throat-singing before ending back on the cleans. “Heralds of Doom” features a fiery solo that cedes to a pit-ready sway, “Via Necropolis” starts with a sleek Necrophobic-meets-Watain riff that builds to a doomy chorus played over rabid trems, and “On Your Knees” bashes you in the face with a potent Sepultura groove.4 Despite Graufar’s administration of reference points galore, they never linger overlong on any one. The songwriting is deceptively understated, and although this works in Graufar’s favor as a whole, over repeated listens I find my engagement more attuned to Via Necropolis’s back half. Reordering the tracks (“Buried in Flames” would make a fantastic opener) and slightly trimming the longer ones would add an immediacy that brings some of the back-end boom up front.

All told, Graufar delivers a vibrant outing that boasts a refreshing take on blackened death teeming with wonderfully wicked ideas. Via Necropolis sizzles throughout its forty-two minutes and distinguishes the band as an act to watch. Considering both Graufar’s albums have been released independently, the band displays remarkable song craft and self-editing, and Via Necropolis gleams with talented musicians who forge well-crafted metal bangers. Better late than never, I’m glad this gem didn’t slip by.

Rating: Very Good!
DR: NA | Format Reviewed: WAV
Label: Self-Release
Websites: Website | Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: March 20th, 2026

Without question, Friday is my favorite day of the week. Even more tantalizing than the conclusion to an often grueling gauntlet of meetings, feedback, and GSD,1 I’m blessed with metal’s new releases. Trying to listen to everything that comes out is a fool’s errand—luckily, I’m a fool. During one of my customary Friday excursions, fortune smiled upon me when I stumbled onto Graufar’s sophomore opus, Via Necropolis. As I listened, the album’s grooves, riffs, and passions bathed me in blackened deathly glory. My luck persisted through the morning—Graufar’s promo still lurked unclaimed in the bin. Yoink! Though I discovered Via Necropolis late, I was powerless to resist the call of a review, especially given the band’s unsigned/independent status. Thus saddled with an unplanned bit of writing and a pocketful of tunes, let us sojourn down Necropolis way.

Too many blackened death metal bands present a mixed bag of half-measures.2 To me, the peak allure of the subgenre promises the brutality and technicality of death metal united with black metal’s icy atmospherics and raw aesthetics. The quintessentially boilerplate BDM band brews a tepid concoction featuring a death metal base with black metal spices; fortunately, Graufar averts getting mired in pedestrian trappings. Honing a sound established on debut Scordalus, Via Necropolis flaunts chilly trems, grating rasps, and a coat of corpse paint that betrays their blackened heart, and it beats with the blood of Dissection, Necrophobic, and Rimfrost. Death metal’s influence is more subtle, skulking in chugging grooves and vicious growls that blend in seamlessly.

Via Necropolis by Graufar

Though Graufar’s performances across Via Necropolis merit praise, vocalist Gernot Graf deserves special recognition. His scathing vocals loose misery and malevolence that arouse a primal reflex, making my throat twinge at the thought of snarling along. Tracks like “Blizzard and Blaze” and “Foltertrog” exhibit Graf’s penchant for wringing out every ounce of emotion, from vitriol to agony. Black metal rasps aren’t his only trick, though. Graf roars with an insatiable fire on “Charon” and “Buried in Flames,” devolving into bestial throes within “Heralds of Doom” and “Via Necropolis” and ensuring that his versatile performance never lacks conviction or fervor. Graf also plays guitar alongside Michael Herber, and together they fashion a glittering heap of licks, leads, and grooves. And it’s the latter that stands out the most, because while death metal regularly brandishes them, black metal rarely deigns to approve the groove. Meanwhile, “Buried in Flames” and “On Your Knees” demonstrate Graufar’s shrewd understanding of songwriting, and bolstered by Thomas Buchmeier’s slinky bass and René Hinum’s precision drumming, Via Necropolis positively thrums.

Throughout Via Necropolis, Graufar dazzles with their ability to conjure dynamic arrangements informed by influences. Kicking off with a Dissection-coded intro on “Blizzard and Blaze,” Graufar mingles with mellow cleans, slithers through second-wave savagery reminiscent of Mayhem,3 and even dabbles in throat-singing before ending back on the cleans. “Heralds of Doom” features a fiery solo that cedes to a pit-ready sway, “Via Necropolis” starts with a sleek Necrophobic-meets-Watain riff that builds to a doomy chorus played over rabid trems, and “On Your Knees” bashes you in the face with a potent Sepultura groove.4 Despite Graufar’s administration of reference points galore, they never linger overlong on any one. The songwriting is deceptively understated, and although this works in Graufar’s favor as a whole, over repeated listens I find my engagement more attuned to Via Necropolis’s back half. Reordering the tracks (“Buried in Flames” would make a fantastic opener) and slightly trimming the longer ones would add an immediacy that brings some of the back-end boom up front.

All told, Graufar delivers a vibrant outing that boasts a refreshing take on blackened death teeming with wonderfully wicked ideas. Via Necropolis sizzles throughout its forty-two minutes and distinguishes the band as an act to watch. Considering both Graufar’s albums have been released independently, the band displays remarkable song craft and self-editing, and Via Necropolis gleams with talented musicians who forge well-crafted metal bangers. Better late than never, I’m glad this gem didn’t slip by.

Rating: Very Good!
DR: NA | Format Reviewed: WAV
Label: Self-Release
Websites: Website | Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: March 20th, 2026

Wedding by Conic Rose is an album that lingers and grows on you, and soon you will find yourself re-listening to each and every track over and over again. #music #conicrose #wedding #album #selfreleased

https://evl.one/wedding-by-conic-rose

Wedding by Conic Rose is an album that lingers and grows on you, and soon you will find yourself re-listening to each and every track over and over again. #music #conicrose #wedding #album #selfreleased

https://evl.one/wedding-by-conic-rose

Read it in the stars: an Astral Spectre is upon us. German multi-instrumentalist Tenebros has spent the past six years mixing up a potent blend of black and heavy metal across three long players that take the NWoBHM energy, blackened aggression, and the occultic flair of 70s hard/prog rock.1 Astral Spectre’s third revelation, 2026s Cosmic Mirage, is poised to be the project’s most ambitious record, taking their established sound and putting it through “more sophisticated arrangements” and utilizing “professional mixing for the first time.” It all looks good to me, but are Astral Spectre the real deal, or is Cosmic Mirage just that?

Astral Spectre’s sound is indebted to the proto-metal and progressive rock of the 1970s, but Cosmic Mirage is no mere exercise in nostalgia. Take Nite and give them Blue Öyster Cult’s guitar tone, longer songs, a meaner blackened rasp, a Hammond organ, and (sometimes) a clarinet, and you’d get Cosmic Mirage. Black metal manifests in Tenebros’ aforementioned rasping, foreboding tones and odd blast beats (“Chronomancer,” “Dancing with Ghosts”), but Astral Spectre’s bread and butter is warm, lively rock n’ roll. NWoBHM twin guitars soar over most tracks, dominating “Stardrifter” and “The Witch’s Waltz” while keys fill out the middle ranges where a rhythm guitar typically would. The organ towers over Cosmic Mirage, adding weight and texture to Astral Spectre’s sound while lending Cosmic Mirage a deeper gothic edge (“The Witch’s Waltz”). Astral Spectre also use clarinet on certain tracks, imbuing snaky, sultry leads to “Death of Osiris” while trading solos with the guitar on “The Demon’s Offer.” Overall, though Cosmic Mirage evokes a specific scene and era of music’s past, Astral Spectre stand on their own through creative utilization of its various pieces.

Cosmic Mirage by Astral Spectre

Cosmic Mirage is at its best when Astral Spectre simply floor it. The opening duo of “Stardrifter” and “Chonomancer” bubble over with energetic hooks, roaring with Iron Maiden gallops and punchy, off-kilter keys that don’t let up and make for one of the best one-two punches I’ve heard this year. Tenebros’ drumming deserves recognition, as he can lend songs like “Cosmic Mirage” and “Stardrifter” ridiculously propulsive energy while laying down serious groove over the Opeth-meets-Maiden “Death of Osiris.” The drumming is brisk, but so slick that it feels laid back, working nicely with Tenebros’ thrumming yet reserved bass playing. But where Cosmic Mirage shines brightest is in its solos, where fast, classically-influenced and highly melodic playing evoke the likes of Adrian Smith (“Stardrifter”), Ritchie Blackmore (“Dancing with Ghosts”) and Eddie Van Halen (“Death of Osiris”). When it all comes together, Astral Spectre sounds like a souped-up Kansas or Blue Öyster Cult crushing it with Tribulation. And that’s just beautiful.

The only knock against Cosmic Mirage is when Astral Spectre’s progressive tendencies come at the expense of hookiness. Astral Spectre flexes their songcraft on longer cuts “Death of Osiris” and “Cosmic Mirage,” and though both songs have good moments, they are bogged down by slow passages that aren’t as vital as the faster, more rockin’ tunes. “Death of Osiris” in particular languishes in repetition for its first half, riffing on a thoroughly cliché “Egyptian” melody before sliding into an Iron Maidenesque bass-plucked build-up to the clarinet solo, where things finally take off.2 “Cosmic Mirage” starts strong with a driving beat and strong hooks before dropping into a spacey, Pink Floyd-like passage that just doesn’t demand your attention as much, and by the time Astral Spectre get their momentum back, the song is basically over. Also, Cosmic Mirage’s clarinet, while it weaves compelling melodies and lends the album a uniquely mellow mood, is always way upfront in the mix and tends to drown out the guitar. This and an understated bass presence are the only gripes I have with the otherwise warm and open mix of Cosmic Mirage, just as Astral Spectre’s few hiccups regarding their longer songs are the only real problems I have with the album at large.

Cosmic Mirage has more going on than it seems at first glance. Besides some missteps in the longer songs, Astral Spectre crafted an ambitious, engrossing, and deviously fun album that anyone with a love for twin guitars should get behind. Tenebros is a phenomenal musician and the fact that Astral Spectre aren’t signed baffles me. As rich as it is immediate, Cosmic Mirage has grown on me with every listen, and I wouldn’t be surprised if it continues to grow well into the year. Chase the mirage!

Rating: Very Good!
DR: 10 | V0 VBR mp3
Label: Self-Released
Websites: astral-spectre.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/OfficialAstralSpectre
Releases Worldwide: April 10th, 2026

Read it in the stars: an Astral Spectre is upon us. German multi-instrumentalist Tenebros has spent the past six years mixing up a potent blend of black and heavy metal across three long players that take the NWoBHM energy, blackened aggression, and the occultic flair of 70s hard/prog rock.1 Astral Spectre’s third revelation, 2026s Cosmic Mirage, is poised to be the project’s most ambitious record, taking their established sound and putting it through “more sophisticated arrangements” and utilizing “professional mixing for the first time.” It all looks good to me, but are Astral Spectre the real deal, or is Cosmic Mirage just that?

Astral Spectre’s sound is indebted to the proto-metal and progressive rock of the 1970s, but Cosmic Mirage is no mere exercise in nostalgia. Take Nite and give them Blue Öyster Cult’s guitar tone, longer songs, a meaner blackened rasp, a Hammond organ, and (sometimes) a clarinet, and you’d get Cosmic Mirage. Black metal manifests in Tenebros’ aforementioned rasping, foreboding tones and odd blast beats (“Chronomancer,” “Dancing with Ghosts”), but Astral Spectre’s bread and butter is warm, lively rock n’ roll. NWoBHM twin guitars soar over most tracks, dominating “Stardrifter” and “The Witch’s Waltz” while keys fill out the middle ranges where a rhythm guitar typically would. The organ towers over Cosmic Mirage, adding weight and texture to Astral Spectre’s sound while lending Cosmic Mirage a deeper gothic edge (“The Witch’s Waltz”). Astral Spectre also use clarinet on certain tracks, imbuing snaky, sultry leads to “Death of Osiris” while trading solos with the guitar on “The Demon’s Offer.” Overall, though Cosmic Mirage evokes a specific scene and era of music’s past, Astral Spectre stand on their own through creative utilization of its various pieces.

Cosmic Mirage by Astral Spectre

Cosmic Mirage is at its best when Astral Spectre simply floor it. The opening duo of “Stardrifter” and “Chonomancer” bubble over with energetic hooks, roaring with Iron Maiden gallops and punchy, off-kilter keys that don’t let up and make for one of the best one-two punches I’ve heard this year. Tenebros’ drumming deserves recognition, as he can lend songs like “Cosmic Mirage” and “Stardrifter” ridiculously propulsive energy while laying down serious groove over the Opeth-meets-Maiden “Death of Osiris.” The drumming is brisk, but so slick that it feels laid back, working nicely with Tenebros’ thrumming yet reserved bass playing. But where Cosmic Mirage shines brightest is in its solos, where fast, classically-influenced and highly melodic playing evoke the likes of Adrian Smith (“Stardrifter”), Ritchie Blackmore (“Dancing with Ghosts”) and Eddie Van Halen (“Death of Osiris”). When it all comes together, Astral Spectre sounds like a souped-up Kansas or Blue Öyster Cult crushing it with Tribulation. And that’s just beautiful.

The only knock against Cosmic Mirage is when Astral Spectre’s progressive tendencies come at the expense of hookiness. Astral Spectre flexes their songcraft on longer cuts “Death of Osiris” and “Cosmic Mirage,” and though both songs have good moments, they are bogged down by slow passages that aren’t as vital as the faster, more rockin’ tunes. “Death of Osiris” in particular languishes in repetition for its first half, riffing on a thoroughly cliché “Egyptian” melody before sliding into an Iron Maidenesque bass-plucked build-up to the clarinet solo, where things finally take off.2 “Cosmic Mirage” starts strong with a driving beat and strong hooks before dropping into a spacey, Pink Floyd-like passage that just doesn’t demand your attention as much, and by the time Astral Spectre get their momentum back, the song is basically over. Also, Cosmic Mirage’s clarinet, while it weaves compelling melodies and lends the album a uniquely mellow mood, is always way upfront in the mix and tends to drown out the guitar. This and an understated bass presence are the only gripes I have with the otherwise warm and open mix of Cosmic Mirage, just as Astral Spectre’s few hiccups regarding their longer songs are the only real problems I have with the album at large.

Cosmic Mirage has more going on than it seems at first glance. Besides some missteps in the longer songs, Astral Spectre crafted an ambitious, engrossing, and deviously fun album that anyone with a love for twin guitars should get behind. Tenebros is a phenomenal musician and the fact that Astral Spectre aren’t signed baffles me. As rich as it is immediate, Cosmic Mirage has grown on me with every listen, and I wouldn’t be surprised if it continues to grow well into the year. Chase the mirage!

Rating: Very Good!
DR: 10 | V0 VBR mp3
Label: Self-Released
Websites: astral-spectre.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/OfficialAstralSpectre
Releases Worldwide: April 10th, 2026

Following a series of brilliant singles, There Is A Light is the long-awaited and luscious new album from Lovetempo. #music #lovetempo #ThereIsALight #album #SelfReleased

https://evl.one/there-is-a-light-by-lovetempo

Following a series of brilliant singles, There Is A Light is the long-awaited and luscious new album from Lovetempo. #music #lovetempo #ThereIsALight #album #SelfReleased

https://evl.one/there-is-a-light-by-lovetempo

Clouds of smoke obscure your view of the stage, where amps are littered with empty glass bottles. The scents of sweat and spilled beer dance in your nostrils as five long-haired reprobates clad in denim and leather walk onto the stage, a swagger in their step and street tough bravado oozing from their pores. Looking to take in a show whilst sitting on your ass? Get fucked. Total Maniac expects you to be on your feet and moving, and if you’re not ready for that, why are you even here? These boys from Baltimore play a raucous brand of classic rock-meets-speed metal that lives somewhere between Motörhead, Mötley Crüe, and Ted Nugent, delivering no-frills cheap thrills on sophomore effort Love Overdrive. So slap on your battle vest and steel-toe boots—when adrenaline starts to flow, and you’re thrashing all around, you’ve gotta be prepared to act like a Total Maniac.

Compared to Total Maniac’s self-titled debut, Love Overdrive veers more into the trad metal/rock ‘n’ roll lane than Total Maniac’s thrash ‘n’ roll stylings. While both albums showcase Total Maniac’s snotty disregard for authority and decorum, Total Maniac dedicated more attention to thrashy chugs and barked vocals. On Love Overdrive, the focus centers on sticky leads and hooky riffs over palm-muted riffing and abrasive grit. Love Overdrive also tones down what passed for technicality on their debut. Not that Total Maniac doesn’t host capable musicians, but there are moments across the album where guitars and vocals sound like they’re pushing just past their ability. Despite that, Love Overdrive features an enthusiastic embrace of freewheeling sin-dealing that’s easy to appreciate.

What Total Maniac lacks in virtuosic prowess, they make up in impish pluck. With only twenty-seven minutes on tap, Love Overdrive never feels phoned in. Each moment sounds crafted to maximize fist-pumping carnage, from the “Panama”-meets-“Wild Side” riffing in “Love Overdrive” to the Phil Campbell-inspired soloing toward the end of “Flatline.” It’s unclear which of Total Maniac’s guitarists takes the lead at any given point, but both Mike Brown and Nick Etson lay down earworm after earworm, frequently breaking away for a quick solo before snapping back to let vocalist Diamond Dustin regale you about hard living, hard loving, and hard rocking. Double-D doesn’t lack conviction, although his upper range sometimes gets away from him. It’s not a deal-breaker, as this sort of rowdy street metal lends itself to imperfect performances that enhance its DIY charm, but piercing falsettos occasionally hit like a sour King Diamond. As for the rhythm section, drummer Vaughn Volkman does a commendable job keeping Love Overdrive’s eight tracks on the rails, but it’s bassist Ben Martin who steals the show. His beefy grumbles and well-mixed countermelodies offset Total Maniac’s dual-guitar attack, creating a well-balanced stringed menace that defines my favorite aspect of Love Overdrive.

Though Total Maniac bleeds authenticity and fun, Love Overdrive does little to stake an identity that hasn’t already been claimed. Many of the riffs seem like variations on Mötley Crüe’s 80s heyday, with “Early Grave” echoing the main motif from “Kickstart My Heart” and the intro from “Set Fire to the Sun” hitting the same mid-paced groove and brief bass sustains as “Shout at the Devil.” The mid-song break in “Drinkin’ Our Way to Hell” even reminds me of Nugent’s crackpot rant towards the end of “Wango Tango.” In this way, Love Overdrive feels like a step back from Total Maniac, which was rougher around the edges, but better defined a unique voice for the band.

Total Maniac does a fantastic job of harnessing the spirit of the music I grew up listening to, but Love Overdrive rarely captures moments that achieve the promise of their inspirations. Fun abounds, and the music encourages beer-chugging shenanigans with a shit-eating grin, yet in the end Total Maniac leaves me wanting to revisit songs I already know rather than learn these new ones. Even so, it’s a quick listen worthy of a spin for anyone craving new material harkening to simpler times. I look forward to hearing where Total Maniac ventures next, and I hope they find a way to continue celebrating the glory of the past while sending their future into Overdrive.



Rating: Mixed
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Self-Released
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: March 27th, 2026

Clouds of smoke obscure your view of the stage, where amps are littered with empty glass bottles. The scents of sweat and spilled beer dance in your nostrils as five long-haired reprobates clad in denim and leather walk onto the stage, a swagger in their step and street tough bravado oozing from their pores. Looking to take in a show whilst sitting on your ass? Get fucked. Total Maniac expects you to be on your feet and moving, and if you’re not ready for that, why are you even here? These boys from Baltimore play a raucous brand of classic rock-meets-speed metal that lives somewhere between Motörhead, Mötley Crüe, and Ted Nugent, delivering no-frills cheap thrills on sophomore effort Love Overdrive. So slap on your battle vest and steel-toe boots—when adrenaline starts to flow, and you’re thrashing all around, you’ve gotta be prepared to act like a Total Maniac.

Compared to Total Maniac’s self-titled debut, Love Overdrive veers more into the trad metal/rock ‘n’ roll lane than Total Maniac’s thrash ‘n’ roll stylings. While both albums showcase Total Maniac’s snotty disregard for authority and decorum, Total Maniac dedicated more attention to thrashy chugs and barked vocals. On Love Overdrive, the focus centers on sticky leads and hooky riffs over palm-muted riffing and abrasive grit. Love Overdrive also tones down what passed for technicality on their debut. Not that Total Maniac doesn’t host capable musicians, but there are moments across the album where guitars and vocals sound like they’re pushing just past their ability. Despite that, Love Overdrive features an enthusiastic embrace of freewheeling sin-dealing that’s easy to appreciate.

What Total Maniac lacks in virtuosic prowess, they make up in impish pluck. With only twenty-seven minutes on tap, Love Overdrive never feels phoned in. Each moment sounds crafted to maximize fist-pumping carnage, from the “Panama”-meets-“Wild Side” riffing in “Love Overdrive” to the Phil Campbell-inspired soloing toward the end of “Flatline.” It’s unclear which of Total Maniac’s guitarists takes the lead at any given point, but both Mike Brown and Nick Etson lay down earworm after earworm, frequently breaking away for a quick solo before snapping back to let vocalist Diamond Dustin regale you about hard living, hard loving, and hard rocking. Double-D doesn’t lack conviction, although his upper range sometimes gets away from him. It’s not a deal-breaker, as this sort of rowdy street metal lends itself to imperfect performances that enhance its DIY charm, but piercing falsettos occasionally hit like a sour King Diamond. As for the rhythm section, drummer Vaughn Volkman does a commendable job keeping Love Overdrive’s eight tracks on the rails, but it’s bassist Ben Martin who steals the show. His beefy grumbles and well-mixed countermelodies offset Total Maniac’s dual-guitar attack, creating a well-balanced stringed menace that defines my favorite aspect of Love Overdrive.

Though Total Maniac bleeds authenticity and fun, Love Overdrive does little to stake an identity that hasn’t already been claimed. Many of the riffs seem like variations on Mötley Crüe’s 80s heyday, with “Early Grave” echoing the main motif from “Kickstart My Heart” and the intro from “Set Fire to the Sun” hitting the same mid-paced groove and brief bass sustains as “Shout at the Devil.” The mid-song break in “Drinkin’ Our Way to Hell” even reminds me of Nugent’s crackpot rant towards the end of “Wango Tango.” In this way, Love Overdrive feels like a step back from Total Maniac, which was rougher around the edges, but better defined a unique voice for the band.

Total Maniac does a fantastic job of harnessing the spirit of the music I grew up listening to, but Love Overdrive rarely captures moments that achieve the promise of their inspirations. Fun abounds, and the music encourages beer-chugging shenanigans with a shit-eating grin, yet in the end Total Maniac leaves me wanting to revisit songs I already know rather than learn these new ones. Even so, it’s a quick listen worthy of a spin for anyone craving new material harkening to simpler times. I look forward to hearing where Total Maniac ventures next, and I hope they find a way to continue celebrating the glory of the past while sending their future into Overdrive.



Rating: Mixed
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Self-Released
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: March 27th, 2026

Loving Parents is the subtle yet intricate second single to be taken from the forthcoming album Wedding by rising Berlin band Conic Rose. #music #conicrose #lovingparents #SelfReleased

https://evl.one/loving-parents-by-conic-rose

Loving Parents is the subtle yet intricate second single to be taken from the forthcoming album Wedding by rising Berlin band Conic Rose. #music #conicrose #lovingparents #SelfReleased

https://evl.one/loving-parents-by-conic-rose

When I think about Miami, the first things that come to mind are excellent empanadas, terrible traffic, and Cynic. What doesn’t come to mind is thrash, although I’ve learned that the Magic City has some history in this regard (Solstice). Thrash quintet Acidosis currently resides in Los Angeles, but their own history dates back to a Miami high school in the mid-to-late 2000s, where frontperson Ben Katzman and guitarist Diego Edsel first formed the band. Arrival, Acidosis’s long-gestating debut album, re-records and reimagines songs Katzman, Edsel, and crew first concocted when they were teenagers. Acidosis may lie their heads in La La Land, but the flamingo-pink background and seafoam-green eyelid tentacles adorning that cover clearly aim to put Miami on the thrash map.1

Arrival is a survivor story, in more ways than one. After dissolving Acidosis, Katzman served stints in several other acts and even competed in season 46 of Survivor.2 In reforming the band, Katzman and Edsel enlist the talents of Harry Schwarz (drums), Jonathan Rusten (rhythm guitars), and Deo Budnevich (lead guitars) to create Arrival, a 9-song, 26-minute thrash incursion.3 Acidosis channels Municipal Waste in wasting no time with long songs, favoring crossovery bangers filled with riffs more rambunctious than a pitbull. “Arrival” opens things up with a sly devil, “They Live!” keeps the party going with punk energy, and “Hostile Negotiations” caps nifty pull-offs and speedy power chords with a delicious tag. Later on, Acidosis conjure the classics, with riffing reminiscent of the chromaticism of Megadeth (“Mankind”) and the stomp-age of Anthrax (“Deadly Fits”). I have no idea how much/little these songs have changed since Katzman and crew were in high school, but Arrival’s riffs have survived the test of time.

Arrival by Acidosis

Ben Katzman ultimately supplies the fuel that powers this Miami Thrash Machine. As a vocalist, he sounds like a less shouty, more tuneful Tony Foresta (Municipal Waste). Katzman knows how to implant a titular line in the listener’s head (“Hostile Negotiations,” “Mankind”) and when to throw some anthemic ‘whoas’ into the mix (“They Live!”). As a bassist, he is equally integral to imbuing Acidosis with its unique charm. Whether (re)charing songs with a bass break (“They Live!,” “Where I Stand”) or shredding a low-end solo (“Hostile Negotiations”), Katzman kills it on the four strings, with a tone that is just the right amount of distorted and clangy. Arrival is clearly Katzman’s passion project, and his passion shines throughout.

Alas, no album with roots in Vice City was going to pass without sin. While I appreciate the spirit of succinct songwriting here, some tracks are definitely in need of more flesh. “Hostile Negotiations” is a banger that would benefit from bridge development, and album-closer “Where I Stand” opens with a country western lick that implies scope that isn’t realized. Switching from slothful songwriting to gluttonous album-craft: the interludes are completely unnecessary. Arrival isn’t even ten minutes old before “Interlude” breaks up the thrash action, and “Interlude 2” intervenes after only two more tracks that total less than nine minutes. These interludes, though short, disrupt the energetic pace, lengthening an album that’s chief virtue is its brevity. Arrival also suffers from inconsistent soloing. Edsel and Budnevich trade off on many of these tracks, revealing that one of these shredders is stronger than the other. Unfortunately, there are several moments where uncontrolled guitar wrath rears its ugly head, with solos sounding like they’re struggling (“Mankind,” “Deadly Fits”).

Having hypocritically cast my critical stones, I will say that none of these sins are deadly. The long-awaited Arrival of Acidosis is a fun time, certainly worth a 26-minute investment from thrashers and metalheads more broadly. Acidosis play a familiar style with no real innovation, but they stamp it with their own personality, much of which stems from Katzman’s presence as a frontman and essential bassist. Add Acidosis to the list of things I positively associate with Miami—I’ll scope out the line if and when they serve up their next platter of thrash turnovers.

Rating: 3.0/5.04
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Self-Released
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: March 27th, 2026

When I think about Miami, the first things that come to mind are excellent empanadas, terrible traffic, and Cynic. What doesn’t come to mind is thrash, although I’ve learned that the Magic City has some history in this regard (Solstice). Thrash quintet Acidosis currently resides in Los Angeles, but their own history dates back to a Miami high school in the mid-to-late 2000s, where frontperson Ben Katzman and guitarist Diego Edsel first formed the band. Arrival, Acidosis’s long-gestating debut album, re-records and reimagines songs Katzman, Edsel, and crew first concocted when they were teenagers. Acidosis may lie their heads in La La Land, but the flamingo-pink background and seafoam-green eyelid tentacles adorning that cover clearly aim to put Miami on the thrash map.1

Arrival is a survivor story, in more ways than one. After dissolving Acidosis, Katzman served stints in several other acts and even competed in season 46 of Survivor.2 In reforming the band, Katzman and Edsel enlist the talents of Harry Schwarz (drums), Jonathan Rusten (rhythm guitars), and Deo Budnevich (lead guitars) to create Arrival, a 9-song, 26-minute thrash incursion.3 Acidosis channels Municipal Waste in wasting no time with long songs, favoring crossovery bangers filled with riffs more rambunctious than a pitbull. “Arrival” opens things up with a sly devil, “They Live!” keeps the party going with punk energy, and “Hostile Negotiations” caps nifty pull-offs and speedy power chords with a delicious tag. Later on, Acidosis conjure the classics, with riffing reminiscent of the chromaticism of Megadeth (“Mankind”) and the stomp-age of Anthrax (“Deadly Fits”). I have no idea how much/little these songs have changed since Katzman and crew were in high school, but Arrival’s riffs have survived the test of time.

Arrival by Acidosis

Ben Katzman ultimately supplies the fuel that powers this Miami Thrash Machine. As a vocalist, he sounds like a less shouty, more tuneful Tony Foresta (Municipal Waste). Katzman knows how to implant a titular line in the listener’s head (“Hostile Negotiations,” “Mankind”) and when to throw some anthemic ‘whoas’ into the mix (“They Live!”). As a bassist, he is equally integral to imbuing Acidosis with its unique charm. Whether (re)charing songs with a bass break (“They Live!,” “Where I Stand”) or shredding a low-end solo (“Hostile Negotiations”), Katzman kills it on the four strings, with a tone that is just the right amount of distorted and clangy. Arrival is clearly Katzman’s passion project, and his passion shines throughout.

Alas, no album with roots in Vice City was going to pass without sin. While I appreciate the spirit of succinct songwriting here, some tracks are definitely in need of more flesh. “Hostile Negotiations” is a banger that would benefit from bridge development, and album-closer “Where I Stand” opens with a country western lick that implies scope that isn’t realized. Switching from slothful songwriting to gluttonous album-craft: the interludes are completely unnecessary. Arrival isn’t even ten minutes old before “Interlude” breaks up the thrash action, and “Interlude 2” intervenes after only two more tracks that total less than nine minutes. These interludes, though short, disrupt the energetic pace, lengthening an album that’s chief virtue is its brevity. Arrival also suffers from inconsistent soloing. Edsel and Budnevich trade off on many of these tracks, revealing that one of these shredders is stronger than the other. Unfortunately, there are several moments where uncontrolled guitar wrath rears its ugly head, with solos sounding like they’re struggling (“Mankind,” “Deadly Fits”).

Having hypocritically cast my critical stones, I will say that none of these sins are deadly. The long-awaited Arrival of Acidosis is a fun time, certainly worth a 26-minute investment from thrashers and metalheads more broadly. Acidosis play a familiar style with no real innovation, but they stamp it with their own personality, much of which stems from Katzman’s presence as a frontman and essential bassist. Add Acidosis to the list of things I positively associate with Miami—I’ll scope out the line if and when they serve up their next platter of thrash turnovers.

Rating: 3.0/5.04
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Self-Released
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: March 27th, 2026

Recensie: Divine Chaos – Hate Reactor ★★★★
https://writteninmusic.com/albumrecensie/divine-chaos-hate-reactor/

#Music #Metal #DivineChaos #SelfReleased

Finally, the new year is upon us! A fresh start for some, same shit different year for others; mainly, my minions who toil in the mines ducts of the Filter. Since they don’t get any holidays, they probably don’t even fucking know it’s 2026 yet, but that’s okay. As long as they come back to HQ with a substantial haul, their ability to know when it is is immaterial.

These are the sacrifices we (not me, though), make to ensure you get the goods relatively on time-ish. So say thank you!

Kenstrosity’s Freaky Foursome

Upiór // Forefathers’ Eve (Redemption) [January 2nd, 2026 – Self Released]

Featuring members of Gorod (Benoit Claus) and Xaoc (Kévin Paradis), Upiór pinged my radar after a certain cosmic Discordian pinged me. A blistering combination of Fleshgod Apocalypse opulence and Wachenfeldt aggression, sophomore release Forefathers’ Eve (Redemption) impressed me immediately as “The Black Paintings ripped my face right off. “A Blessing or a Curse” doubled down on speed, blasting rhythms, and eerie melodies to propel itself straight into my Song o’ the Year long-list. Even with three instrumental interludes, all of which are quite fluffy, Forefathers’ Eve (Redemption) crams pummeling riffs, exuberant percussion, and dramatic lushness into its 51-minute runtime. “Forefathers’ Eve (Part I),” a fantastic companion to Fleshgod Apocalypse’s “Cold As Perfection” without aping its features, conjures a similarly affecting character that draws me in completely. Forefathers’ Eve (Redemption)’s middle section continues to build personality and develop greater dynamics from that point, represented most clearly in melodic riffs and expressive leads/soloing (“The Woman that Weeps”). Leading into its conclusion, a tonal shift towards the dire at this junction foreshadows the imminent release of Upiór’s second act, Forefathers’ Eve (Damnation) (due in early April), charring songs like “Forefather’s Eve (Part II)” and “Between the Living and Dead” with blackened rabidity and dissonant flourishes. All of this to say, Upiór launched this latest arc with a striking blow, and I can only imagine what’s in store for Damnation.

Forefathers’ Eve (Redemption) by Upiór

KadavriK // Erde666 [January 9th, 2026 – Self Released]

Germany’s melodic death metal quintet KadavriK have been cranking out records since 2007, but I only heard about them this year, once again, thanks to Discord. Erde666, their fifth outing, takes an unorthodox and progressive approach to melodic death metal, which makes comparisons difficult to draw. Stripped down and raw in some moments, mystical and lush in others, Erde666 is all about textures. Its opening title track explores that spectrum of sounds and philosophies to its fullest, even drawing heavy influence from blues, psychedelia, and sludge at times (“Getrümmerfreund”), but it all coalesces seamlessly. Following up an opener as strong as that would be a tall order for anyone, but KadavriK are clever songwriters, and the long form served them well even compared to the more straightforward tracklists of previous installments (“Nihilist,” “Das Ende Des Anthropozäns”). Off-kilter guitar melodies countered against twinkling Kalmah synths and sweeping strings do a lot of work to elevate and liven the crushing chords of their high-impact riffs as well, which adds a ton of interest into an already unconventional melodic death record (“Widerhall”). All of this makes for a record that might not be as immediate or fast-paced as most aim for in this space, but, counterintuitively, significantly more memorable. Don’t sleep on this one, folks!

Erde 666 by KadavriK

Luminesce // Like Crushed Violets and Linen [November 20th, 2026 – Self Released]

Prolific at a scale I haven’t witnessed since Déhà, Luminesce mastermind Alice Simard, based in Québec, piqued my curiosity for the first time with Like Crushed Violets and Linen, her sophomore effort under the Luminesce moniker. Boasting machine-gun rapidity (“Exploited Monochromaticism”), off-kilter rhythms (“Silver”), and a downright romantic sense of melody (“Like Crushed Violets and Linen,” “Lamp of Fulguration”)—countered by lyrical themes ranging from guilt complexes to gender identity (“To Restore”)—Like Crushed Violets and Linen is a deeply personal record forged in a melodic technical death metal mold. And as such a record, it recalls the vicarious guitar pyrotechnics of Inferi and Obscura while securing a melodic sensibility more in line with neoclassical composition (“The Covenant of Counterfeit Stars”). Unlike many of her contemporaries, however, Alice is a master of editing. Filled with killer ideas and instrumental wizardry without involving a drop of bloat, each of these seven songs coalesce into a buttery-smooth 30-minute excursion that punches far above its feathery mass. The addition of delightful chiptune dalliances helps distinguish Luminesce further from the pack (“To Restore”), though I’m torn about how far forward they are in the mix. In fact, the mix is my main gripe, as Like Crushed Violets and Linen is muffled and a bit flat, despite boasting a much-appreciated meaty bass presence. Nonetheless, if you’re looking for an unlikely tech-death contender, Luminesce might be just what you need.

Like Crushed Violets and Linen by Luminesce

Bone Storm // Daemon Breed [January 30th, 2026 – Self Released]

As the CEO of this Filter company, I withhold the right to break the rules and include a very cool bonus fourth option, Bone Storm’s cavebrained Daemon Breed. Do you like Bolt Thrower? Yes, you do. Do you like Bear Mace? Yes, you do. By proxy, then, you already like Connecticut’s Bone Storm as they draw from the same chunky, groove-laden school of death metal. At a somewhat overachieving 50 minutes, Daemon Breed pummels the listener beneath a veritable smorgasbord of neck-breaking riffs built upon a framework of triplet grooves, swaggering syncopations, and galloping double bass assaults. Their approach is simple and unburdened by blistering speed, fiddly technicality, or atmospheric deviation, and in that way recalls the undeniable immediacy and brutal effectiveness of records like Black Royal’s Firebride. With highlights “Heaven’s End (Burn Them All),” “Plaguerider,” “Sanctimonious Morality,” and above all “Ritual Supremacy,” Bone Storm use that approach with aplomb, proving that the spirit of classic, no-frills death metal is vital and vicarious. Delightfully cogent roars and gutturals allow the most difficult deliveries (see “Daemon Breed”) to feel vicious and purposeful, while a subtle thread of melody (see “Cursed Born”) affords the record a small measure of songwriting variety to break things up just when Daemon Breed needs it most. Heavy reliance on triplets and perhaps a zealous desire to put down every idea that seems good even if it’s placed immediately adjacent to much better one (“Halo of Disease” and “Hammer of Judas” bookending “Ritual Supremacy” are tough positions to defend, as is “Wrist Slitter” next to the fun Frozen Soul-esque “Blood Priest”), hold it back from higher praise only mildly. Moral of the story? Enter the bone zone, with haste!

Daemon Breed by Bone Storm

Creeping Ivy’s Riffy Remainder

Lord Elephant // Ultra Soul [January 30th, 2026 – Heavy Psych Sounds]

Sometimes, you don’t need dynamic songwriting, harmonic density, or even a vocalist. Sometimes, all you need are riffs. Okay, and maybe some psychedelic leads to go over those riffs. Ultra Soul, the sophomore album from Italian instrumental trio Lord Elephant, delivers 48 minutes of pure, mostly unadulterated stoner-doom. In the feudal jungle of heavy riff rock, Lord Elephant pays scutage to King Buffalo, similarly forming longish compositions where simple, bluesy figures reign supreme, stretching their limbs in grassy patches. Occasionally, guitarist Leandro Gaccione, bassist Edoardo De Nardi, and drummer Tommaso Urzino lock into some lively, head-bobbing grooves (“Gigantia”). But mostly, Lord Elephant keeps things meditative, hypnotizing listeners with Earthless drones and lurches (“Smoke Tower,” “Black River Blues”). De Nardi’s bass often leads the way (“Electric Dunes”), the underwater tone of which reminds me of falling for Isis.1 Lord Elephant aren’t reinventing any wheels here; the familiarity of their bluesy riffing simply won’t interest those for whom such bluesiness is a staid marker of old-man rock. The absence of vocals, however, makes Ultra Soul work as pseudo-ambient music that can set the mood, or accompany tasks, or gateway a normie. Closer listening will reveal, though, a tight trio reveling in the rudiments of rock music—a drummer, bassist, and guitarist vibing on a riff.

Ultra Soul by Lord Elephant

Andy-War-Hall’s Salvaged Windfall

Juodvarnis // Tékmés [January 23rd, 2026 – Self Released]

Lithuania’s Juodvarnis cooked for a long six years between albums for their fourth record Tékmés. With the confidence and sharpness displayed on all levels by Juodvarnis here, that was clearly time well spent in the kitchen. Sporting a brand of progressive black metal that blends the Enslaved framework of prog-black with the epic heft and melody of Iotunn and the crushing rhythms and harsh vocals of Gojira, Tékmés is tight, lively and achieves a remarkable level of melancholic thoughtfulness without neglecting the average listener’s chronic need for riffs. Translated to “flow” from Hungarian,2 Tékmés navigates inter-song and album-wide progressions of pummeling rhythms (“Dvasios Ligos”) and slow marches (“Tamsiausias Nušvitimas”), impassioned clean vocals (“Platybės”) and razor-throated screams (“Juodos Akys”) to achieve a gradual, natural sense of advancement across its 42-minute journey. If progressive black metal that knows how to riff and can turn the reverb off 11 sounds like a good time to you, give Juodvarnis’ Tékmés a shot sometime.

Tékmés by Juodvarnis

Thus Spoke’s Obscure Offerings

Ectovoid // In Unreality’s Coffin [January 9th, 2026 – Everlasting Spew Records]

Normally, it takes copious amounts of reverb, wonkiness, melody, or turbo-dissonance for death metal to be palatable to me. Every once in a while, however, an album like Ectovoid’s In Unreality’s Coffin comes along and shows me that there is another way. The music’s stickiness has a lot to do with its boundary-straddling take on OSDM. Ostensibly, the battering, percussion, sawblade riffing, and gruff gurgling growls mark it as your everyday modern no-nonsense death metal, somewhere between Cryptopsy and Immolation. But In Unreality’s Coffin is more like tech-death, disso-death, and brutal-death in a trench coat than it is any one of them, or another subgenre.3 Its arpeggios can be rhythmically snappy, sometimes combined with equally sharp vocal delivery (“Intrusive Illusions (Echoes from a Distant Plane)”), but more often than not channel a churning chaos that resists punchiness for a darker unease I find addictive (“Collapsing Spiritual Nebula,” “Erroneous Birth”). The music is constantly speeding up or slowing down, churning guitars collapsing with slides (“Dissonance Corporeum”) or pitching upwards in squeals (“In Anguished Levitation”), or evolving into mania as screams and growls fragment and layer (“Formless Seeking Form”). Rather than being exhausting, it’s exhilarating, with expertly-timed releases of diabolically echoing melody (“Collapsing Spiritual Nebula”) or a new groove to latch onto (“In Unreality’s Coffin”) coming to keep you afloat. Ectovoid keep you guessing without actually really pushing the boundaries, making In Unreality’s Coffin both a lot of fun and straightforwardly br00tal enough to sustain a savage workout; or just a really intense 45 minutes.

In Unreality’s Coffin by Ectovoid

Exxûl // Sealed into None [January 15th, 2026 – Productions TSO]

Phil Tougas has had an impressive start to the year. Before Worm’s Necropalace this February, came Sealed into None, the debut by Exxûl—a genre-blending, kinda blackened epic-power-doom-heavy-metal group also comprising several of Phil’s Atramentus band-mates. Several people brought up this album in the comments on my Worm review, often to the tune of “Exxûl better,” and while I respectfully disagree on the quality ranking of the two, I can’t deny how fabulous Sealed into None is. Here again are genres of music I’m usually unable to connect with—in this instance, power and classical heavy metal—but shaped in a way that opens my eyes and ears. Yes, the high-pitched wail style of singing first took me a little off-guard when they first arose on “Blighted Deity,” and they offend my usual tastes. But they are impressive, and work in a way I thought only harsh vocals could when following the trajectory of distorted keys and guitar (“Walls of Endless Darkness”), or shouting into an atmospheric abyss (“The Screaming Tower”). Oh, and of course, the overall vibe of magnificent, melodramatic blackened doom that sets the scene, capped off with—predictably—phenomenal guitarwork, is just magic and enough for me to get past my knee-jerk vocal ick and love it not in spite of that, but because of what it can bring to the whole. I love the slow builds to dazzling solos (“Bells of the Exxûl through to “Blighted Deity,” “The Screaming Tower”) and the way the camper, heavy-metal sides blur into something darker (“Labyrinthine Fate”). I just love this album, to be honest.

Sealed Into None by Exxûl

ClarkKent’s Canadian Catch

Turpitude // Mordoré [January 1, 2026 – Self Released]

Since 2019, Alice Simard has been a prolific presence in Quebec’s underground metal scene. She consistently releases albums for several different projects, from the ambient atmoblack of Coffret de Bijoux to the tech death of Luminesce (also uncovered in this month’s Filter by our Sponge Fren). Mordoré, the fourth full-length for Turpitude, thrives on its riffs and carries a cheerful energy reminiscent of the carefree raw black metal of Grime Stone Records stalwarts Wizard Keep and Old Nick. Yet Simard opts for traditional instruments, no synths, though production choices make the drumsticks sound as if they’re banging against blocks of wood, give the guitars a lofi reverb, and cause Simard’s voice to fade into the background in a cavernous growl. The riffs are the real star, with some terrifically catchy melodic leads and trems throughout (“La Traverse Mordorée,” “Aller de L’avant”). This combination of riffs, a raw sound, and often upbeat tunes draws comparison to Trhä and To Escape. While Mordoré keeps a mostly cheery tone, Turpitude’s no one-trick pony. There’s a tinge of the melancholic on the moody, atmospheric “Peintra,” as well as a successful stab at covering a non-metal song a lá Spider God on “Washing Machine Heart.”4 This is a worthwhile endeavor for those who like their black metal raw and energetic.

Mordoré by Turpitude

Grin Reaper’s Heavy Haul

Valiant Sentinel // Neverealm [January 16th, 2026 – Theogonia Records]

Greek heavy metal heroes Valiant Sentinel dropped their sophomore platter Neverealm back in mid-January, unleashing forty-six minutes that reek of high fantasy. Galloping riffs, driving drums, and vocal harmonies aplenty supply a cinematic adventure that basks in fun. While the pacing of Neverealm mainly operates in high-energy bombast, Valiant Sentinel smartly weaves in mid-paced might, evidenced by how the controlled assault of “Mirkwood Forest” provides a breather after opening chest-thumpers “War in Heaven” and “Neverealm.” Acoustic pieces “To Mend the Ring” and “Come What May” further diversify Neverealm’s heavy metal holdings, and while I’m usually keener on more aggressive numbers, these two tracks comprise some of my favorite moments on the album.5 Mostly, Valiant Sentinel summons comparisons to Germany’s heavy/power scene—chief among them Blind Guardian—going so far as to bring in BG drummer extraordinaire Frederik Ehmke. I also catch fleeting glimpses of Brainstorm and Mystic Prophecy in Valiant Sentinel’s DNA, though guitarist and composer Dimitris Skodras does a commendable job carving out a distinct identity for the band. Featuring skilled performances across the board and guest spots from Burning Witches’ Laura Guldemond (“Neverealm”) and Savatage’s Zak Stevens (“Arch Nemesis”), Valiant Sentinel packs loads of drama into a streamlined package. So what are you waiting for? Go grab your polyhedrals and a Spelljammer, and set sail for Neverealm.

Neverealm by Valiant Sentinel

Fili Bibiano’s Fortress // Death Is Your Master [January 30th, 2026 – High Roller Records]

Does Shredphobia keep you away from metal? Does the sultry siren call of licks, riffs, and chugs make you break into a cold sweat? If so, I strongly urge you to stay away from Fortress’ sophomore album, Death Is Your Master. Channeling Tony Martin-era Black Sabbath and 80s Judas Priest, Fortress drops six-string shenanigans that’ll get your booty shaking and the floor quaking, offering a romping retro slab that goes down slow ‘n’ easy. The overt classic 80s heavy metal worship on tracks “Flesh and Dagger” and “Night City” delivers riff after riff recalling the glory days, giving Fortress an authenticity that expands what could have otherwise been a one-dimensional LP. Guitarist Fili Bibiano sizzles with axe-slinging abandon, occasionally conjuring the neoclassical debauchery of Yngwie (“Savage Sword,” “Maze”). Still, it’s not all about the guitar, and drummer Joey Mancaruso and vocalist Juan Aguila nail their contributions as Fortress wends their way through a trim thirty-four minutes. On a guitar-forward album featuring slick songwriting and singalong jams, Death Is Your Master bumps, dives, and wails in a slow-burn frenzy of classic heavy goodness. Dig in!

Death Is Your Master by Fili Bibiano’s Fortress

Baguette’s Brutal Burglary

Skulld // Abyss Calls to Abyss [January 23rd, 2026 – Time to Kill Records]

While last year was alright for death metal and notably starred Dormant Ordeal, I felt it was lacking in quantity of impressive releases for said cornerstone of the metal underground. Fortunately, Italian group Skulld is here to start off the year with a bang! Abyss Calls to Abyss takes Bolt Thrower’s tank-rolling grooves (“Mother Death”) and Dismember’s melodic buzzsaw action (“Wear the Night as a Velvet Cloak”) and adds in some crust punk influence as extra seasoning (“Le Diable and the Snake”). It feels like they’ve taken some influence from both Finnish and Swedish varieties of death metal as well, and I’m here for it! The band is fluent in switching things up at the drop of a hat without sacrificing energy or cohesion. “Mother Death” and “Drops of Sorrow” go from heavy, dissonant chords to big lead guitar melodies, which in turn lead to a chunky and punky death metal groove that’s bound to get your head moving. Teo’s drumming controls the mood in excellent fashion, adding fast blast beats or slow-pummelling stomps when called for. The vicious, varied growls of Pam further cement the violence contained within and add to the album’s attitude. At a brief 34 minutes spread over eight songs, it wastes no time going for your throat in a multitude of ways. Get this album into your skull or get Skulld!

Abyss Call To Abyss by Skulld

Total Annihilation // Mountains of Madness [January 16th, 2026 – Testimony Records]

What would happen if you took Vader, Slayer and Sodom and threw them in a big ol’ manic death/thrash blender? The answer is Mountains of Madness! While Swiss Total Annihilation’s earliest works were more in line with classic ’80s thrash metal, they have increasingly moved towards more aggressive and relentless pastures, and their songwriting is all the better for it. Fourth album Mountains of Madness channels records like Vader’s Litany and Sodom’s Tapping the Vein in particular (“The Art of Torture,” “Age of Mental Suicide”), taking advantage of a relentless, drum-forward groove and a furious vocal performance. The album’s dual guitar attack weaves together thrashier tunes with parts that reach straight up Swedeath territory, be it melodic or not. In addition, tracks like “Mountains of Madness” and “Choose the Day” throw some melodic thrash akin to Sodom’s self-titled album into the mix for that extra bit of variety and replay value. Mountains of Madness isn’t afraid to slow things down with a satisfying lead riff, but most of Mountains of Madness is at a respectful lightning-fast pace, as thrash should. Another brief but powerful addition to the January pile ov skulls!

Mountains Of Madness by Total Annihilation

Polaris Experience // Drifting Through Voids [January 2nd, 2026 – Distant Comet Entertainment]

On the earliest days of the year, Japan delivered an awesome surprise drop of death metal-influenced progressive thrash! Polaris Experience features various Cynical riffs (“Interplanetary Funambulist,” “Bathyscapes”) while sporting a similarly old-school guitar tone throughout. Being progressive thrash, the main focus is naturally on the oh-so-sweet instrumentation that balances melody and groove seamlessly. The instrumental “Parvati” alone highlights how tight everything is, from the snappy drumming to the bouncy bass work. Most importantly, the music is catchy and memorable despite its relative complexity and lack of brevity. Additionally, Drifting Through Voids uses vocals sparingly but in all the right ways, complementing its technicalities with a traditional thrashy, harsh bark. The fact that it’s a two-man project and a debut makes it all the more impressive. Fans of similar recent progressive and technical shenanigans like Species should take notes post-haste. Considering we’ve already had this and Cryptic Shift this early in the year, and how prog/tech thrash is usually only allowed one or two notable albums per year, we could be in for a banner year for the subgenre. It also marks the first time in ages that a Japanese album has genuinely good production. Welcome to the new millennium!

Drifting Through Voids by Polaris Experience

Finally, the new year is upon us! A fresh start for some, same shit different year for others; mainly, my minions who toil in the mines ducts of the Filter. Since they don’t get any holidays, they probably don’t even fucking know it’s 2026 yet, but that’s okay. As long as they come back to HQ with a substantial haul, their ability to know when it is is immaterial.

These are the sacrifices we (not me, though), make to ensure you get the goods relatively on time-ish. So say thank you!

Kenstrosity’s Freaky Foursome

Upiór // Forefathers’ Eve (Redemption) [January 2nd, 2026 – Self Released]

Featuring members of Gorod (Benoit Claus) and Xaoc (Kévin Paradis), Upiór pinged my radar after a certain cosmic Discordian pinged me. A blistering combination of Fleshgod Apocalypse opulence and Wachenfeldt aggression, sophomore release Forefathers’ Eve (Redemption) impressed me immediately as “The Black Paintings ripped my face right off. “A Blessing or a Curse” doubled down on speed, blasting rhythms, and eerie melodies to propel itself straight into my Song o’ the Year long-list. Even with three instrumental interludes, all of which are quite fluffy, Forefathers’ Eve (Redemption) crams pummeling riffs, exuberant percussion, and dramatic lushness into its 51-minute runtime. “Forefathers’ Eve (Part I),” a fantastic companion to Fleshgod Apocalypse’s “Cold As Perfection” without aping its features, conjures a similarly affecting character that draws me in completely. Forefathers’ Eve (Redemption)’s middle section continues to build personality and develop greater dynamics from that point, represented most clearly in melodic riffs and expressive leads/soloing (“The Woman that Weeps”). Leading into its conclusion, a tonal shift towards the dire at this junction foreshadows the imminent release of Upiór’s second act, Forefathers’ Eve (Damnation) (due in early April), charring songs like “Forefather’s Eve (Part II)” and “Between the Living and Dead” with blackened rabidity and dissonant flourishes. All of this to say, Upiór launched this latest arc with a striking blow, and I can only imagine what’s in store for Damnation.

Forefathers’ Eve (Redemption) by Upiór

KadavriK // Erde666 [January 9th, 2026 – Self Released]

Germany’s melodic death metal quintet KadavriK have been cranking out records since 2007, but I only heard about them this year, once again, thanks to Discord. Erde666, their fifth outing, takes an unorthodox and progressive approach to melodic death metal, which makes comparisons difficult to draw. Stripped down and raw in some moments, mystical and lush in others, Erde666 is all about textures. Its opening title track explores that spectrum of sounds and philosophies to its fullest, even drawing heavy influence from blues, psychedelia, and sludge at times (“Getrümmerfreund”), but it all coalesces seamlessly. Following up an opener as strong as that would be a tall order for anyone, but KadavriK are clever songwriters, and the long form served them well even compared to the more straightforward tracklists of previous installments (“Nihilist,” “Das Ende Des Anthropozäns”). Off-kilter guitar melodies countered against twinkling Kalmah synths and sweeping strings do a lot of work to elevate and liven the crushing chords of their high-impact riffs as well, which adds a ton of interest into an already unconventional melodic death record (“Widerhall”). All of this makes for a record that might not be as immediate or fast-paced as most aim for in this space, but, counterintuitively, significantly more memorable. Don’t sleep on this one, folks!

Erde 666 by KadavriK

Luminesce // Like Crushed Violets and Linen [November 20th, 2026 – Self Released]

Prolific at a scale I haven’t witnessed since Déhà, Luminesce mastermind Alice Simard, based in Québec, piqued my curiosity for the first time with Like Crushed Violets and Linen, her sophomore effort under the Luminesce moniker. Boasting machine-gun rapidity (“Exploited Monochromaticism”), off-kilter rhythms (“Silver”), and a downright romantic sense of melody (“Like Crushed Violets and Linen,” “Lamp of Fulguration”)—countered by lyrical themes ranging from guilt complexes to gender identity (“To Restore”)—Like Crushed Violets and Linen is a deeply personal record forged in a melodic technical death metal mold. And as such a record, it recalls the vicarious guitar pyrotechnics of Inferi and Obscura while securing a melodic sensibility more in line with neoclassical composition (“The Covenant of Counterfeit Stars”). Unlike many of her contemporaries, however, Alice is a master of editing. Filled with killer ideas and instrumental wizardry without involving a drop of bloat, each of these seven songs coalesce into a buttery-smooth 30-minute excursion that punches far above its feathery mass. The addition of delightful chiptune dalliances helps distinguish Luminesce further from the pack (“To Restore”), though I’m torn about how far forward they are in the mix. In fact, the mix is my main gripe, as Like Crushed Violets and Linen is muffled and a bit flat, despite boasting a much-appreciated meaty bass presence. Nonetheless, if you’re looking for an unlikely tech-death contender, Luminesce might be just what you need.

Like Crushed Violets and Linen by Luminesce

Bone Storm // Daemon Breed [January 30th, 2026 – Self Released]

As the CEO of this Filter company, I withhold the right to break the rules and include a very cool bonus fourth option, Bone Storm’s cavebrained Daemon Breed. Do you like Bolt Thrower? Yes, you do. Do you like Bear Mace? Yes, you do. By proxy, then, you already like Connecticut’s Bone Storm as they draw from the same chunky, groove-laden school of death metal. At a somewhat overachieving 50 minutes, Daemon Breed pummels the listener beneath a veritable smorgasbord of neck-breaking riffs built upon a framework of triplet grooves, swaggering syncopations, and galloping double bass assaults. Their approach is simple and unburdened by blistering speed, fiddly technicality, or atmospheric deviation, and in that way recalls the undeniable immediacy and brutal effectiveness of records like Black Royal’s Firebride. With highlights “Heaven’s End (Burn Them All),” “Plaguerider,” “Sanctimonious Morality,” and above all “Ritual Supremacy,” Bone Storm use that approach with aplomb, proving that the spirit of classic, no-frills death metal is vital and vicarious. Delightfully cogent roars and gutturals allow the most difficult deliveries (see “Daemon Breed”) to feel vicious and purposeful, while a subtle thread of melody (see “Cursed Born”) affords the record a small measure of songwriting variety to break things up just when Daemon Breed needs it most. Heavy reliance on triplets and perhaps a zealous desire to put down every idea that seems good even if it’s placed immediately adjacent to much better one (“Halo of Disease” and “Hammer of Judas” bookending “Ritual Supremacy” are tough positions to defend, as is “Wrist Slitter” next to the fun Frozen Soul-esque “Blood Priest”), hold it back from higher praise only mildly. Moral of the story? Enter the bone zone, with haste!

Daemon Breed by Bone Storm

Creeping Ivy’s Riffy Remainder

Lord Elephant // Ultra Soul [January 30th, 2026 – Heavy Psych Sounds]

Sometimes, you don’t need dynamic songwriting, harmonic density, or even a vocalist. Sometimes, all you need are riffs. Okay, and maybe some psychedelic leads to go over those riffs. Ultra Soul, the sophomore album from Italian instrumental trio Lord Elephant, delivers 48 minutes of pure, mostly unadulterated stoner-doom. In the feudal jungle of heavy riff rock, Lord Elephant pays scutage to King Buffalo, similarly forming longish compositions where simple, bluesy figures reign supreme, stretching their limbs in grassy patches. Occasionally, guitarist Leandro Gaccione, bassist Edoardo De Nardi, and drummer Tommaso Urzino lock into some lively, head-bobbing grooves (“Gigantia”). But mostly, Lord Elephant keeps things meditative, hypnotizing listeners with Earthless drones and lurches (“Smoke Tower,” “Black River Blues”). De Nardi’s bass often leads the way (“Electric Dunes”), the underwater tone of which reminds me of falling for Isis.1 Lord Elephant aren’t reinventing any wheels here; the familiarity of their bluesy riffing simply won’t interest those for whom such bluesiness is a staid marker of old-man rock. The absence of vocals, however, makes Ultra Soul work as pseudo-ambient music that can set the mood, or accompany tasks, or gateway a normie. Closer listening will reveal, though, a tight trio reveling in the rudiments of rock music—a drummer, bassist, and guitarist vibing on a riff.

Ultra Soul by Lord Elephant

Andy-War-Hall’s Salvaged Windfall

Juodvarnis // Tékmés [January 23rd, 2026 – Self Released]

Lithuania’s Juodvarnis cooked for a long six years between albums for their fourth record Tékmés. With the confidence and sharpness displayed on all levels by Juodvarnis here, that was clearly time well spent in the kitchen. Sporting a brand of progressive black metal that blends the Enslaved framework of prog-black with the epic heft and melody of Iotunn and the crushing rhythms and harsh vocals of Gojira, Tékmés is tight, lively and achieves a remarkable level of melancholic thoughtfulness without neglecting the average listener’s chronic need for riffs. Translated to “flow” from Hungarian,2 Tékmés navigates inter-song and album-wide progressions of pummeling rhythms (“Dvasios Ligos”) and slow marches (“Tamsiausias Nušvitimas”), impassioned clean vocals (“Platybės”) and razor-throated screams (“Juodos Akys”) to achieve a gradual, natural sense of advancement across its 42-minute journey. If progressive black metal that knows how to riff and can turn the reverb off 11 sounds like a good time to you, give Juodvarnis’ Tékmés a shot sometime.

Tékmés by Juodvarnis

Thus Spoke’s Obscure Offerings

Ectovoid // In Unreality’s Coffin [January 9th, 2026 – Everlasting Spew Records]

Normally, it takes copious amounts of reverb, wonkiness, melody, or turbo-dissonance for death metal to be palatable to me. Every once in a while, however, an album like Ectovoid’s In Unreality’s Coffin comes along and shows me that there is another way. The music’s stickiness has a lot to do with its boundary-straddling take on OSDM. Ostensibly, the battering, percussion, sawblade riffing, and gruff gurgling growls mark it as your everyday modern no-nonsense death metal, somewhere between Cryptopsy and Immolation. But In Unreality’s Coffin is more like tech-death, disso-death, and brutal-death in a trench coat than it is any one of them, or another subgenre.3 Its arpeggios can be rhythmically snappy, sometimes combined with equally sharp vocal delivery (“Intrusive Illusions (Echoes from a Distant Plane)”), but more often than not channel a churning chaos that resists punchiness for a darker unease I find addictive (“Collapsing Spiritual Nebula,” “Erroneous Birth”). The music is constantly speeding up or slowing down, churning guitars collapsing with slides (“Dissonance Corporeum”) or pitching upwards in squeals (“In Anguished Levitation”), or evolving into mania as screams and growls fragment and layer (“Formless Seeking Form”). Rather than being exhausting, it’s exhilarating, with expertly-timed releases of diabolically echoing melody (“Collapsing Spiritual Nebula”) or a new groove to latch onto (“In Unreality’s Coffin”) coming to keep you afloat. Ectovoid keep you guessing without actually really pushing the boundaries, making In Unreality’s Coffin both a lot of fun and straightforwardly br00tal enough to sustain a savage workout; or just a really intense 45 minutes.

In Unreality’s Coffin by Ectovoid

Exxûl // Sealed into None [January 15th, 2026 – Productions TSO]

Phil Tougas has had an impressive start to the year. Before Worm’s Necropalace this February, came Sealed into None, the debut by Exxûl—a genre-blending, kinda blackened epic-power-doom-heavy-metal group also comprising several of Phil’s Atramentus band-mates. Several people brought up this album in the comments on my Worm review, often to the tune of “Exxûl better,” and while I respectfully disagree on the quality ranking of the two, I can’t deny how fabulous Sealed into None is. Here again are genres of music I’m usually unable to connect with—in this instance, power and classical heavy metal—but shaped in a way that opens my eyes and ears. Yes, the high-pitched wail style of singing first took me a little off-guard when they first arose on “Blighted Deity,” and they offend my usual tastes. But they are impressive, and work in a way I thought only harsh vocals could when following the trajectory of distorted keys and guitar (“Walls of Endless Darkness”), or shouting into an atmospheric abyss (“The Screaming Tower”). Oh, and of course, the overall vibe of magnificent, melodramatic blackened doom that sets the scene, capped off with—predictably—phenomenal guitarwork, is just magic and enough for me to get past my knee-jerk vocal ick and love it not in spite of that, but because of what it can bring to the whole. I love the slow builds to dazzling solos (“Bells of the Exxûl through to “Blighted Deity,” “The Screaming Tower”) and the way the camper, heavy-metal sides blur into something darker (“Labyrinthine Fate”). I just love this album, to be honest.

Sealed Into None by Exxûl

ClarkKent’s Canadian Catch

Turpitude // Mordoré [January 1, 2026 – Self Released]

Since 2019, Alice Simard has been a prolific presence in Quebec’s underground metal scene. She consistently releases albums for several different projects, from the ambient atmoblack of Coffret de Bijoux to the tech death of Luminesce (also uncovered in this month’s Filter by our Sponge Fren). Mordoré, the fourth full-length for Turpitude, thrives on its riffs and carries a cheerful energy reminiscent of the carefree raw black metal of Grime Stone Records stalwarts Wizard Keep and Old Nick. Yet Simard opts for traditional instruments, no synths, though production choices make the drumsticks sound as if they’re banging against blocks of wood, give the guitars a lofi reverb, and cause Simard’s voice to fade into the background in a cavernous growl. The riffs are the real star, with some terrifically catchy melodic leads and trems throughout (“La Traverse Mordorée,” “Aller de L’avant”). This combination of riffs, a raw sound, and often upbeat tunes draws comparison to Trhä and To Escape. While Mordoré keeps a mostly cheery tone, Turpitude’s no one-trick pony. There’s a tinge of the melancholic on the moody, atmospheric “Peintra,” as well as a successful stab at covering a non-metal song a lá Spider God on “Washing Machine Heart.”4 This is a worthwhile endeavor for those who like their black metal raw and energetic.

Mordoré by Turpitude

Grin Reaper’s Heavy Haul

Valiant Sentinel // Neverealm [January 16th, 2026 – Theogonia Records]

Greek heavy metal heroes Valiant Sentinel dropped their sophomore platter Neverealm back in mid-January, unleashing forty-six minutes that reek of high fantasy. Galloping riffs, driving drums, and vocal harmonies aplenty supply a cinematic adventure that basks in fun. While the pacing of Neverealm mainly operates in high-energy bombast, Valiant Sentinel smartly weaves in mid-paced might, evidenced by how the controlled assault of “Mirkwood Forest” provides a breather after opening chest-thumpers “War in Heaven” and “Neverealm.” Acoustic pieces “To Mend the Ring” and “Come What May” further diversify Neverealm’s heavy metal holdings, and while I’m usually keener on more aggressive numbers, these two tracks comprise some of my favorite moments on the album.5 Mostly, Valiant Sentinel summons comparisons to Germany’s heavy/power scene—chief among them Blind Guardian—going so far as to bring in BG drummer extraordinaire Frederik Ehmke. I also catch fleeting glimpses of Brainstorm and Mystic Prophecy in Valiant Sentinel’s DNA, though guitarist and composer Dimitris Skodras does a commendable job carving out a distinct identity for the band. Featuring skilled performances across the board and guest spots from Burning Witches’ Laura Guldemond (“Neverealm”) and Savatage’s Zak Stevens (“Arch Nemesis”), Valiant Sentinel packs loads of drama into a streamlined package. So what are you waiting for? Go grab your polyhedrals and a Spelljammer, and set sail for Neverealm.

Neverealm by Valiant Sentinel

Fili Bibiano’s Fortress // Death Is Your Master [January 30th, 2026 – High Roller Records]

Does Shredphobia keep you away from metal? Does the sultry siren call of licks, riffs, and chugs make you break into a cold sweat? If so, I strongly urge you to stay away from Fortress’ sophomore album, Death Is Your Master. Channeling Tony Martin-era Black Sabbath and 80s Judas Priest, Fortress drops six-string shenanigans that’ll get your booty shaking and the floor quaking, offering a romping retro slab that goes down slow ‘n’ easy. The overt classic 80s heavy metal worship on tracks “Flesh and Dagger” and “Night City” delivers riff after riff recalling the glory days, giving Fortress an authenticity that expands what could have otherwise been a one-dimensional LP. Guitarist Fili Bibiano sizzles with axe-slinging abandon, occasionally conjuring the neoclassical debauchery of Yngwie (“Savage Sword,” “Maze”). Still, it’s not all about the guitar, and drummer Joey Mancaruso and vocalist Juan Aguila nail their contributions as Fortress wends their way through a trim thirty-four minutes. On a guitar-forward album featuring slick songwriting and singalong jams, Death Is Your Master bumps, dives, and wails in a slow-burn frenzy of classic heavy goodness. Dig in!

Death Is Your Master by Fili Bibiano’s Fortress

Baguette’s Brutal Burglary

Skulld // Abyss Calls to Abyss [January 23rd, 2026 – Time to Kill Records]

While last year was alright for death metal and notably starred Dormant Ordeal, I felt it was lacking in quantity of impressive releases for said cornerstone of the metal underground. Fortunately, Italian group Skulld is here to start off the year with a bang! Abyss Calls to Abyss takes Bolt Thrower’s tank-rolling grooves (“Mother Death”) and Dismember’s melodic buzzsaw action (“Wear the Night as a Velvet Cloak”) and adds in some crust punk influence as extra seasoning (“Le Diable and the Snake”). It feels like they’ve taken some influence from both Finnish and Swedish varieties of death metal as well, and I’m here for it! The band is fluent in switching things up at the drop of a hat without sacrificing energy or cohesion. “Mother Death” and “Drops of Sorrow” go from heavy, dissonant chords to big lead guitar melodies, which in turn lead to a chunky and punky death metal groove that’s bound to get your head moving. Teo’s drumming controls the mood in excellent fashion, adding fast blast beats or slow-pummelling stomps when called for. The vicious, varied growls of Pam further cement the violence contained within and add to the album’s attitude. At a brief 34 minutes spread over eight songs, it wastes no time going for your throat in a multitude of ways. Get this album into your skull or get Skulld!

Abyss Call To Abyss by Skulld

Total Annihilation // Mountains of Madness [January 16th, 2026 – Testimony Records]

What would happen if you took Vader, Slayer and Sodom and threw them in a big ol’ manic death/thrash blender? The answer is Mountains of Madness! While Swiss Total Annihilation’s earliest works were more in line with classic ’80s thrash metal, they have increasingly moved towards more aggressive and relentless pastures, and their songwriting is all the better for it. Fourth album Mountains of Madness channels records like Vader’s Litany and Sodom’s Tapping the Vein in particular (“The Art of Torture,” “Age of Mental Suicide”), taking advantage of a relentless, drum-forward groove and a furious vocal performance. The album’s dual guitar attack weaves together thrashier tunes with parts that reach straight up Swedeath territory, be it melodic or not. In addition, tracks like “Mountains of Madness” and “Choose the Day” throw some melodic thrash akin to Sodom’s self-titled album into the mix for that extra bit of variety and replay value. Mountains of Madness isn’t afraid to slow things down with a satisfying lead riff, but most of Mountains of Madness is at a respectful lightning-fast pace, as thrash should. Another brief but powerful addition to the January pile ov skulls!

Mountains Of Madness by Total Annihilation

Polaris Experience // Drifting Through Voids [January 2nd, 2026 – Distant Comet Entertainment]

On the earliest days of the year, Japan delivered an awesome surprise drop of death metal-influenced progressive thrash! Polaris Experience features various Cynical riffs (“Interplanetary Funambulist,” “Bathyscapes”) while sporting a similarly old-school guitar tone throughout. Being progressive thrash, the main focus is naturally on the oh-so-sweet instrumentation that balances melody and groove seamlessly. The instrumental “Parvati” alone highlights how tight everything is, from the snappy drumming to the bouncy bass work. Most importantly, the music is catchy and memorable despite its relative complexity and lack of brevity. Additionally, Drifting Through Voids uses vocals sparingly but in all the right ways, complementing its technicalities with a traditional thrashy, harsh bark. The fact that it’s a two-man project and a debut makes it all the more impressive. Fans of similar recent progressive and technical shenanigans like Species should take notes post-haste. Considering we’ve already had this and Cryptic Shift this early in the year, and how prog/tech thrash is usually only allowed one or two notable albums per year, we could be in for a banner year for the subgenre. It also marks the first time in ages that a Japanese album has genuinely good production. Welcome to the new millennium!

Drifting Through Voids by Polaris Experience

The harsh environs of Australia are the perfect breeding grounds for brutal music. Xenobiotic based their latest on the hellish setting of Dante’s Inferno, an ideal topic for the desert landscape that dominates their home continent. The melodeath of Freedom of Fear has an acerbic tone perfect for combatting the numerous venomous animals that lurk there. Newcomers Vanta are similarly raising their debut, Perpetual Selection, amidst the brutal, but also lovely, backdrop of the Land Down Under. In truth, Australia is a complex place, featuring the harsh Outback, lush jungles, beautiful beaches, and modern cityscapes. Vanta reflect this complexity, playing a brutal melodeath style that borrows from a myriad of influences outside the genre. Time will tell whether these guys have what it takes to thrive in this environment or fall to the perpetual forces conspiring against their survival.

Perpetual Selection borrows heavily from the crushing melodeath of The Black Dahlia Murder, yet where TBDM inaccurately draw comparisons to metalcore, Vanta happily blend metalcore into their sound. However, they play energetic melodeath first and foremost, featuring some impressive guitar leads with only the occasional sprinkle of a breakdown (“Stillwater,” “Sandstalker”) or down-tuned guitar tones (“Empty Shell”). Beneath the crushing riffs is an effective melodic layer produced by the guitar duo of Thien Huynh and Jesse Venus. There’s a sense of constant kinetic motion between the duo as they lay out hooky leads (“Empty Shell,” “Kuyang”) and speedy solos (“Stillwater”). The blistering kitwork from Ferdi Handojo also adds to the sense of non-stop energy. Like TBDM, Vanta have a knack for creative intros that heighten the excitement when the song proper roars into action. These intros range from gentle arpeggios (“Sacred Light,” “Stillwater”) to Fulci-style horror screams (“Kuyang”), and all culminate in a testosterone-fueled explosion of riffs, blast beats, and growls.

As I mentioned in the intro, Vanta infuse a wide variety of influences from various genres, yet somehow allow them to flow naturally together. Following an energetic set of songs, “Drown” slows things down with a melodic piece that has a whiff of sadboi melodeath stalwarts Insomnium, and yet it somehow works, perhaps due to how it eases into the gloom following an energetic intro. “Alchemy” similarly heads in a new direction, patiently building into a memorable chorus rather than immediately going for the jugular. Somehow it transports me to Stortregn’s Impermanence as Venus sings “Ash to ash / dust to dust.” Finally, “Purity” is a complete surprise, ripping a speedy tune that sounds uncannily like something off an Archspire record. Yet this all works, creating an exciting and varied album, in part thanks to the chameleon-like vocal attack from Venus. He seamlessly switches from his usual rasps to deep growls to speedy Oliver Rae Aleron delivery as if it all naturally fits together.

This variety in tunes does expose some weaknesses on Perpetual Selection, however. Not all influences that Vanta draw from work in their favor. The straight-up metalcore track, “Sandstalker,” sticks out like a sore thumb with its lack of melody or hooks. Sandwiched between two fantastic tunes early on, it threatens to derail the record right from the start. A breakdown halfway through the bloated “Stillwater” is another odd choice; it’s not a metalcore song, so the segment just feels out of place. Yet it’s the penultimate track, “Transmorcide,” that feels the most adrift. It lacks any hooks or leads and seems unsure what it’s trying to do. These issues don’t detract enough to keep Perpetual Selection from being enjoyable and worth checking out, though; they just show opportunities for growth.

Perpetual Selection proves to be a fun record from a new, young band with lots of promise. Vanta shows creative songwriting chops as well as a willingness to stretch out of their comfort zone. Most importantly, they fit nicely in that TBDM sound without being a mere clone. If they hone their talents and skills, they can find a niche in the melodeath realm that TBDM and Inferi have carved, hopefully for many years to come.



Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: WAV
Label: Self-Released
Website: Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Site
Releases Worldwide: March 13th, 2026

The harsh environs of Australia are the perfect breeding grounds for brutal music. Xenobiotic based their latest on the hellish setting of Dante’s Inferno, an ideal topic for the desert landscape that dominates their home continent. The melodeath of Freedom of Fear has an acerbic tone perfect for combatting the numerous venomous animals that lurk there. Newcomers Vanta are similarly raising their debut, Perpetual Selection, amidst the brutal, but also lovely, backdrop of the Land Down Under. In truth, Australia is a complex place, featuring the harsh Outback, lush jungles, beautiful beaches, and modern cityscapes. Vanta reflect this complexity, playing a brutal melodeath style that borrows from a myriad of influences outside the genre. Time will tell whether these guys have what it takes to thrive in this environment or fall to the perpetual forces conspiring against their survival.

Perpetual Selection borrows heavily from the crushing melodeath of The Black Dahlia Murder, yet where TBDM inaccurately draw comparisons to metalcore, Vanta happily blend metalcore into their sound. However, they play energetic melodeath first and foremost, featuring some impressive guitar leads with only the occasional sprinkle of a breakdown (“Stillwater,” “Sandstalker”) or down-tuned guitar tones (“Empty Shell”). Beneath the crushing riffs is an effective melodic layer produced by the guitar duo of Thien Huynh and Jesse Venus. There’s a sense of constant kinetic motion between the duo as they lay out hooky leads (“Empty Shell,” “Kuyang”) and speedy solos (“Stillwater”). The blistering kitwork from Ferdi Handojo also adds to the sense of non-stop energy. Like TBDM, Vanta have a knack for creative intros that heighten the excitement when the song proper roars into action. These intros range from gentle arpeggios (“Sacred Light,” “Stillwater”) to Fulci-style horror screams (“Kuyang”), and all culminate in a testosterone-fueled explosion of riffs, blast beats, and growls.

As I mentioned in the intro, Vanta infuse a wide variety of influences from various genres, yet somehow allow them to flow naturally together. Following an energetic set of songs, “Drown” slows things down with a melodic piece that has a whiff of sadboi melodeath stalwarts Insomnium, and yet it somehow works, perhaps due to how it eases into the gloom following an energetic intro. “Alchemy” similarly heads in a new direction, patiently building into a memorable chorus rather than immediately going for the jugular. Somehow it transports me to Stortregn’s Impermanence as Venus sings “Ash to ash / dust to dust.” Finally, “Purity” is a complete surprise, ripping a speedy tune that sounds uncannily like something off an Archspire record. Yet this all works, creating an exciting and varied album, in part thanks to the chameleon-like vocal attack from Venus. He seamlessly switches from his usual rasps to deep growls to speedy Oliver Rae Aleron delivery as if it all naturally fits together.

This variety in tunes does expose some weaknesses on Perpetual Selection, however. Not all influences that Vanta draw from work in their favor. The straight-up metalcore track, “Sandstalker,” sticks out like a sore thumb with its lack of melody or hooks. Sandwiched between two fantastic tunes early on, it threatens to derail the record right from the start. A breakdown halfway through the bloated “Stillwater” is another odd choice; it’s not a metalcore song, so the segment just feels out of place. Yet it’s the penultimate track, “Transmorcide,” that feels the most adrift. It lacks any hooks or leads and seems unsure what it’s trying to do. These issues don’t detract enough to keep Perpetual Selection from being enjoyable and worth checking out, though; they just show opportunities for growth.

Perpetual Selection proves to be a fun record from a new, young band with lots of promise. Vanta shows creative songwriting chops as well as a willingness to stretch out of their comfort zone. Most importantly, they fit nicely in that TBDM sound without being a mere clone. If they hone their talents and skills, they can find a niche in the melodeath realm that TBDM and Inferi have carved, hopefully for many years to come.



Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: WAV
Label: Self-Released
Website: Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Site
Releases Worldwide: March 13th, 2026

In 2019, I accidentally stumbled upon St. Petersburg’s wacko dark cabaret metal freaks Tardigrade Inferno’s debut Mastermind, depicting an adorable evil water bear as mascot. You can imagine that I was immediately hooked. Their legitimately heavy riffs and whimsical songwriting kept me coming back for more when Burn the Circus dropped four years later. That release doubled down on original material backed by a more focused metallic spirit, and all the better for it. Initially, it sounded like third installment, Hush picked up right where Burn left off. However, gone is my beloved little tardigrade. What could this mean?

While Tardigrade Inferno’s sonic formula remains largely the same as it was on Burn the Circus—albeit with the addition of accordions and kazoos and one very unexpected burst of blast beats (“I Am Eternal”)—it’s clear that they moved away from their titular character on Hush. A darkness follows that disappearance, reflected in the dour and morbid attitudes imparted throughout Hush’s 45 minutes (“Dead Fish Smile”). Absent the maniacal main character that gave Tardigrade Inferno’s music life, direction, and purpose, Hush’s storytelling feels aimless and shallow. Thankfully, those trusty hooks, bouncy riffs, and infectious choruses entertained me just enough as I navigated through an uncomfortable grieving period for the Tardigrade Inferno I once cherished.

Hush by Tardigrade Inferno

After a time, I felt ready to embrace Hush, knowing it wasn’t going to offer the same wacky storyline as previous records spun. However, I never escaped my disappointment that Tardigrade Inferno chose an album of vignettes, pulling from a wide gamut of fairy tales and ubiquitous monsters, as their solution. Cuts like “Deadly Fairytales” and “Goor” hammer that generic storytelling home musically as well, though there are small moments in each that make for a great idea or an ear-catching setup (see the howling vox and silent rests in “Goor”). Others like “All in Your Head” and “I.C.D.,” in contrast, expound upon the natural horrors that plague the human mind in the real world. While that topic works quite well in metal writ large, Tardigrade Inferno don’t sell it with the same compelling gravity or subversion as other acts who adopt this exuberant cabaret influence (like Pensees Nocturne or Sanguine Glacialis). Consequently, Hush lacks substance and excitement for a good chunk of its duration.

However, there are a number of cool ideas, new tricks, and fun details found here that Tardigrade Inferno could, and should, take advantage of on future endeavors. The title track is a certified bop, with a bouncy riff backed by fun synths and a sticky chorus that I can’t stop involuntarily repeating. “Subatomic Heist” is a bizarre little number that brims with vibrancy and energy as well, and it’s no surprise that it also calls back to those virtually unkillable microscopic creatures of past installments. Similarly, the proggy and doomy closer “I Am Eternal” foreshadows a tardigrade resurgence inside off-kilter melodies, unorthodox songwriting (for this band, at least), and gorgeous lead guitar work. Naturally, returning to the critters and characters that gave Tardigrade Inferno its primary appeal also gave this song the backbone and direction it needed to feel worthy and interesting. This, in turn, further exemplifies the issues that plague all of the songs on Hush that make no such return.

I’m not normally one to recommend a band revisit past ideas or themes. In fact, I am a firm proponent of a band sticking to their guns and finding their way whenever they make a potentially divisive shift from past work, either musically or thematically. In this case, however, I think killing off their main character and the silliness that came with it—not to mention the dearly missed conceptual storytelling—doomed Tardigrade Inferno’s third outing. Hush isn’t unsalvageable, as it has nifty ideas and some new songwriting tricks and fun instruments that fit well into Tardigrade Inferno’s sound, but it’s missing the direction and compelling arcs that made their first two records successful. My wish for Tardigrade Inferno is therefore to ditch the horror stories and rebuild the circus, for the show must go on!

Rating: Disappointing
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Self-Released
Websites: tardigradeinferno.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/tardigradeinfernomusic
Releases Worldwide: March 5th, 2026

In 2019, I accidentally stumbled upon St. Petersburg’s wacko dark cabaret metal freaks Tardigrade Inferno’s debut Mastermind, depicting an adorable evil water bear as mascot. You can imagine that I was immediately hooked. Their legitimately heavy riffs and whimsical songwriting kept me coming back for more when Burn the Circus dropped four years later. That release doubled down on original material backed by a more focused metallic spirit, and all the better for it. Initially, it sounded like third installment, Hush picked up right where Burn left off. However, gone is my beloved little tardigrade. What could this mean?

While Tardigrade Inferno’s sonic formula remains largely the same as it was on Burn the Circus—albeit with the addition of accordions and kazoos and one very unexpected burst of blast beats (“I Am Eternal”)—it’s clear that they moved away from their titular character on Hush. A darkness follows that disappearance, reflected in the dour and morbid attitudes imparted throughout Hush’s 45 minutes (“Dead Fish Smile”). Absent the maniacal main character that gave Tardigrade Inferno’s music life, direction, and purpose, Hush’s storytelling feels aimless and shallow. Thankfully, those trusty hooks, bouncy riffs, and infectious choruses entertained me just enough as I navigated through an uncomfortable grieving period for the Tardigrade Inferno I once cherished.

Hush by Tardigrade Inferno

After a time, I felt ready to embrace Hush, knowing it wasn’t going to offer the same wacky storyline as previous records spun. However, I never escaped my disappointment that Tardigrade Inferno chose an album of vignettes, pulling from a wide gamut of fairy tales and ubiquitous monsters, as their solution. Cuts like “Deadly Fairytales” and “Goor” hammer that generic storytelling home musically as well, though there are small moments in each that make for a great idea or an ear-catching setup (see the howling vox and silent rests in “Goor”). Others like “All in Your Head” and “I.C.D.,” in contrast, expound upon the natural horrors that plague the human mind in the real world. While that topic works quite well in metal writ large, Tardigrade Inferno don’t sell it with the same compelling gravity or subversion as other acts who adopt this exuberant cabaret influence (like Pensees Nocturne or Sanguine Glacialis). Consequently, Hush lacks substance and excitement for a good chunk of its duration.

However, there are a number of cool ideas, new tricks, and fun details found here that Tardigrade Inferno could, and should, take advantage of on future endeavors. The title track is a certified bop, with a bouncy riff backed by fun synths and a sticky chorus that I can’t stop involuntarily repeating. “Subatomic Heist” is a bizarre little number that brims with vibrancy and energy as well, and it’s no surprise that it also calls back to those virtually unkillable microscopic creatures of past installments. Similarly, the proggy and doomy closer “I Am Eternal” foreshadows a tardigrade resurgence inside off-kilter melodies, unorthodox songwriting (for this band, at least), and gorgeous lead guitar work. Naturally, returning to the critters and characters that gave Tardigrade Inferno its primary appeal also gave this song the backbone and direction it needed to feel worthy and interesting. This, in turn, further exemplifies the issues that plague all of the songs on Hush that make no such return.

I’m not normally one to recommend a band revisit past ideas or themes. In fact, I am a firm proponent of a band sticking to their guns and finding their way whenever they make a potentially divisive shift from past work, either musically or thematically. In this case, however, I think killing off their main character and the silliness that came with it—not to mention the dearly missed conceptual storytelling—doomed Tardigrade Inferno’s third outing. Hush isn’t unsalvageable, as it has nifty ideas and some new songwriting tricks and fun instruments that fit well into Tardigrade Inferno’s sound, but it’s missing the direction and compelling arcs that made their first two records successful. My wish for Tardigrade Inferno is therefore to ditch the horror stories and rebuild the circus, for the show must go on!

Rating: Disappointing
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Self-Released
Websites: tardigradeinferno.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/tardigradeinfernomusic
Releases Worldwide: March 5th, 2026

Self-releasing an album is a monumental effort. Between production, distribution, artwork, press, yadda yadda yadda, the logistical weight quickly consumes vast amounts of time, money and energy. And that’s before you factor in the arduous task of creating music that’s actually fucking good. Indeed, for a young band, initial encounters are everything, which means it behooves one to ensure everything is as polished and professional as possible. Desoration understands this.1 The Christchurch, New Zealand five-piece submitted their debut album, NON, via AMG’s contact form, catching my eye with their professional-grade press kit. Since their 2020 formation, the group has been refining their identity, with 2024’s Apotechnosis EP introducing Desoration’s techy blend of melodic death metal. NON aims to take this to a new level, weaving symphonic textures into their deathly foundation alongside a narrative that charts a protagonist’s descent from modern despair into an otherworldly transformation, culminating in their emergence as a “nemessiah” who brings about the total annihilation of the corporeal plane.2 Will NON’s ambition be a non-starter? Or will it be a non-negotiable addition to your playlist?

Puns aside, NON frequently oscillates between melodic death and symphonic black metal. Tracks like “Corporealisation Threshold,” “Deadened and Scarified” and “Excoriating Reality” channel the guitar-forward spirit of Omnium Gatherum or Mors Principium Est, while others are forged in the cold 90s-era symphonic black mold of yore (“Black Dawn,” “The Befouled Ziggurat of Non”). Desoration even finds room to pepper in the punchy, rhythmic grooves of Lamb of God (“Beyond the Veil of Sleep”) or the operatic brutality of Fleshgod Apocalypse (“Singularity Ritual,” “Interitus the Herald of Ruin”). Regardless of NON’s stylistic lean, Desoration fortifies every note with pinpoint accuracy, as high-velocity picking, assaulting blasts and syncopated chugging underpin dramatic synchestral flourishes. The orchestral arrangements act as NON’s nexus, fueling the record’s kinetic energy with both urgency and dramatic intensity. Though Desoration’s sound doesn’t break new ground, the formula works as a whole, relying on instrumental prowess to keep the listener locked in.

NON by Desoration

Great albums live or die by their songwriting, and the writing on NON is solid. “Singularity Ritual,” “Those Who Dwell in Darkness” and “Interitus the Herald of Ruin” thrive on sharp hooks, cavalry-charge gallops and solos brimming with bright, sweeping scales that put Desoration’s talent on full display. “Corporealisation Threshold,” in particular, reaches its zenith during a synchronized closing battery of percussive riffing and double-kick work. It’s a necessary jolt of energy that arrives just in time, delivering the adrenaline spike I found myself chasing through the preceding tracks. While the writing isn’t perfectly consistent across all eleven songs—”Beyond the Veil of Sleep,” for instance, lacks hooks and “Black Dawn” is far too long—NON overcomes these lulls through Desoration’s sheer talent and an obvious command of the melodic death sound.

Favoring a synthetic sheen, NON’s main weakness is its production. While a sterilized production style is a common aesthetic that many bands seemingly adopt for convenience, here it results in an overly digitized sound that quickly becomes tiresome. In fact, I spent my entire time with NON craving the dynamics Desoration abandoned in the editing room. Aean Campbell’s vocals are adept and hit all the standard death beats, but they sit so far forward in the mix that they drown out much of the instrumental nuance, particularly the guitars. The biggest tragedy, however, is the drums. Bennett Jones’ performance itself is stellar, but the tones are a disaster. The toms sound thin, and the cymbals are a wash of static. It honestly sounds like they plugged in a Roland electronic kit, hit “record” and called it a day. It’s a shame that low-effort tones bury such high-level playing. I understand the necessity of working within tight constraints to achieve a pro sound on an indie budget, but production this over-processed takes a toll on my feathery ears.

Desoration is a young act that radiates promise and NON proves these Kiwis possess the pedigree to compete globally. It’s frustrating that the production prevents the album from reaching its full potential. However, if you can look past this blemish, you’ll find a good melodic death record with solid songwriting and impressive performances full of symphonic carnage. NON firmly establishes Desoration as a group to watch.

Rating: Good
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: PCM
Label: Self-Released
Websites: desoration.bandcamp.com | desoration.com | facebook.com/desorationmetal
Releases Worldwide: February 6th, 2026

Self-releasing an album is a monumental effort. Between production, distribution, artwork, press, yadda yadda yadda, the logistical weight quickly consumes vast amounts of time, money and energy. And that’s before you factor in the arduous task of creating music that’s actually fucking good. Indeed, for a young band, initial encounters are everything, which means it behooves one to ensure everything is as polished and professional as possible. Desoration understands this.1 The Christchurch, New Zealand five-piece submitted their debut album, NON, via AMG’s contact form, catching my eye with their professional-grade press kit. Since their 2020 formation, the group has been refining their identity, with 2024’s Apotechnosis EP introducing Desoration’s techy blend of melodic death metal. NON aims to take this to a new level, weaving symphonic textures into their deathly foundation alongside a narrative that charts a protagonist’s descent from modern despair into an otherworldly transformation, culminating in their emergence as a “nemessiah” who brings about the total annihilation of the corporeal plane.2 Will NON’s ambition be a non-starter? Or will it be a non-negotiable addition to your playlist?

Puns aside, NON frequently oscillates between melodic death and symphonic black metal. Tracks like “Corporealisation Threshold,” “Deadened and Scarified” and “Excoriating Reality” channel the guitar-forward spirit of Omnium Gatherum or Mors Principium Est, while others are forged in the cold 90s-era symphonic black mold of yore (“Black Dawn,” “The Befouled Ziggurat of Non”). Desoration even finds room to pepper in the punchy, rhythmic grooves of Lamb of God (“Beyond the Veil of Sleep”) or the operatic brutality of Fleshgod Apocalypse (“Singularity Ritual,” “Interitus the Herald of Ruin”). Regardless of NON’s stylistic lean, Desoration fortifies every note with pinpoint accuracy, as high-velocity picking, assaulting blasts and syncopated chugging underpin dramatic synchestral flourishes. The orchestral arrangements act as NON’s nexus, fueling the record’s kinetic energy with both urgency and dramatic intensity. Though Desoration’s sound doesn’t break new ground, the formula works as a whole, relying on instrumental prowess to keep the listener locked in.

NON by Desoration

Great albums live or die by their songwriting, and the writing on NON is solid. “Singularity Ritual,” “Those Who Dwell in Darkness” and “Interitus the Herald of Ruin” thrive on sharp hooks, cavalry-charge gallops and solos brimming with bright, sweeping scales that put Desoration’s talent on full display. “Corporealisation Threshold,” in particular, reaches its zenith during a synchronized closing battery of percussive riffing and double-kick work. It’s a necessary jolt of energy that arrives just in time, delivering the adrenaline spike I found myself chasing through the preceding tracks. While the writing isn’t perfectly consistent across all eleven songs—”Beyond the Veil of Sleep,” for instance, lacks hooks and “Black Dawn” is far too long—NON overcomes these lulls through Desoration’s sheer talent and an obvious command of the melodic death sound.

Favoring a synthetic sheen, NON’s main weakness is its production. While a sterilized production style is a common aesthetic that many bands seemingly adopt for convenience, here it results in an overly digitized sound that quickly becomes tiresome. In fact, I spent my entire time with NON craving the dynamics Desoration abandoned in the editing room. Aean Campbell’s vocals are adept and hit all the standard death beats, but they sit so far forward in the mix that they drown out much of the instrumental nuance, particularly the guitars. The biggest tragedy, however, is the drums. Bennett Jones’ performance itself is stellar, but the tones are a disaster. The toms sound thin, and the cymbals are a wash of static. It honestly sounds like they plugged in a Roland electronic kit, hit “record” and called it a day. It’s a shame that low-effort tones bury such high-level playing. I understand the necessity of working within tight constraints to achieve a pro sound on an indie budget, but production this over-processed takes a toll on my feathery ears.

Desoration is a young act that radiates promise and NON proves these Kiwis possess the pedigree to compete globally. It’s frustrating that the production prevents the album from reaching its full potential. However, if you can look past this blemish, you’ll find a good melodic death record with solid songwriting and impressive performances full of symphonic carnage. NON firmly establishes Desoration as a group to watch.

Rating: Good
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: PCM
Label: Self-Released
Websites: desoration.bandcamp.com | desoration.com | facebook.com/desorationmetal
Releases Worldwide: February 6th, 2026

[LIVE] Recording Progress: Chris nimmt seine Gitarrenspur für einen weiteren Song auf... 🤘#chrisrockt

#bandsofmastoson #band #recording #selfreleased #selfrecording

[LIVE] Recording Progress: Chris nimmt seine Gitarrenspur für einen weiteren Song auf... 🤘#chrisrockt

#bandsofmastoson #band #recording #selfreleased #selfrecording

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

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

Boiled Alive by Scythe

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

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

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

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

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

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

Boiled Alive by Scythe

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

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

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

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

Brutal cold envelops the building as my minions scrape through ice and filthy slush to find even the smallest shard of metallic glimmer. With extensive budget cuts demanded by my exorbitant bonus schedule—as is my right as CEO of this filtration service—there was no room to purchase adequate gear and equipment for these harsher weathers. However, I did take up crocheting recently so each of my “employees” received a nice soft hat.

Hopefully, that will be enough to tide them over until the inclement weather passes and we return to normal temps. Until then, they have these rare finds to keep them warm, and so do you! REJOICE!

Kenstrosity’s Knightly Nightmare

AngelMaker // This Used to Be Heaven [November 20th, 2025 – Self Released]

I’ve been a fan of AngelMaker’s since their 2015 debut Dissentient. The grossly underrated and underappreciated Vancouver septet are a highly specialized deathcore infantry, with their lineup expanding steadily over their career in concert with their ever-increasing songwriting sophistication. Unlike the brutish and belligerent debut and follow-up AngelMaker, 2022’s Sanctum and new outing This Used to Be Heaven indulge in rich layering, near-neoclassical melodies, and dramatic atmosphere to complement AngelMaker’s trademark sense of swaggering groove. With early entries “Rich in Anguish” and “Haunter” establishing the strength of both sides of their sound, it always surprises me how AngelMaker successfully twist and gnarl their sound into shapes—whether it be hardcore, blackened, or melodic—I wasn’t anticipating (“Silken Hands,” “Relinquished,” “Nothing Left”). A rock-solid back half launched by the epic “The Omen” two-part suite brings these deviations from the expected into unity with the deathcore foundation I know AngelMaker so well for (“Malevolence Reigns,” “Altare Mortis”), and in doing so secure their status as one of the most reliably creative deathcore acts in the scene. Nothing here is going to change the minds of the fiercer deathcore detractors, but if your heart is open even just a crack, there’s a good chance This Used to Be Heaven will force themselves into it, if not entirely rip the whole thing asunder. My advice is simply to let it.

This Used To Be Heaven by AngelMaker

ClarkKent’s Sonic Symphonics

Brainblast // Colossus Suprema [November 11th, 2025 – Vmbrella]

A debut album five years in the making from a band formed in 2015, Colossus Suprema is the brainchild of Bogotá, Colombia’s Edd Jiménez. Jiménez turned his passion for and training in classical composition towards his symphonic progressive act, Brainblast. With Bach as an inspiration, Brainblast’s brand of technical death metal has the grandeur of Fleshgod Apocalypse, the speed of Archspire, and the virtuosity of concert musicians. Jiménez’s classical training shows — the compositions have an orchestral feel, only played at insane energy levels. The speed, the depth, and the breadth of the instrumentation are sure to leave you breathless. Nicholas Le Fou Wells (First Fragment) lays down relentless kitwork with jaw-dropping velocity, while Eetu Hernesmaa provides technical fretwork that’ll similarly leave you awestruck. He delivers sublime riffs on “Relentless Rise” and a surprising melodic lead that steals the show on “Unchain Your Soul.” Perhaps most prominent is the virtuoso play of the bass from Rich Gray (Annihilator) and Dominic Forest Lapointe (First Fragment) that is omnipresent and funky on each and every song. To top it all off is the piano (perhaps from Jiménez), giving the music some gravitas with the technical, concert-style playing. This record is just plain bonkers and tons of fun. Given this is the debut from a young musician, the idea that Brainblast has room to grow is plenty exciting.

COLOSSUS SUPREMA by BRAINBLAST

Gods of Gaia // Escape the Wonderland [November 28th, 2025 – Self Released]

If you’ve been eagerly awaiting the next SepticFlesh release, Germany’s Gods of Gaia have got you covered. Founded in 2023 by Kevin Sierra Eifert, Gods of Gaia is made up of an anonymous collective from around the world, contributing to a dark, heavy, and aggressive form of symphonic metal. Their sophomore album, Escape the Wonderland, features a collection of death metal songs with plenty of orchestral arrangements that add a dramatic flair. Along with crushing riffs and thunderous blast beats, you’ll hear choral chants (“Escape the Wonderland,” “Burn for Me”), bits of piano (“What It Takes”), and plenty of cinematic symphonics. SepticFlesh is the obvious influence, but the grandiosity of Fleshgod Apocalypse flares up on cuts like the dramatic “Rise Up.” The front half is largely aggressive, with “What It Takes” taking the energy to thrash levels. The back half dials down the energy, even creeping to near doom on “Krieg in Mir,” but never pulls back on the heaviness. Cool as the symphonic elements are, the riffs, blast beats, and brutal vocal delivery are just as impressive. Make no mistake, this is melodic death metal above all else, with symphonic seasonings that elevate it a notch. Just the opposite of what the record title suggests, this is one wonderland you won’t want to escape.

Escape the Wonderland by Gods of Gaia

Grin Reaper’s Frozen Feast

Hounds of Bayanay // КЭМ [November 15, 2025 – Self Released]

Two-and-a-half years after dropping debut Legends of the North, Hounds of Bayanay returns with КЭМ to sate your eternal lust for folk metal.1 Blending heavy metal with folk instrumentation, specifically kyrympa2 and khomus,3 as well as throat singing, Hounds of Bayanay might sound like a Tengger Cavalry or The Hu knockoff, but you’ll do yourself a disservice by writing them off. Boldly enunciated, clarion cleans belt out in confident proclamations while grittier refrains and overtones resonate beneath, proffering assorted and engaging vocal stylings. Rather than dwelling overlong in strings and tribal chanting, the deft fusion of folk instruments with traditional metal defines Hounds’ sound and feels cohesively integrated on КЭМ, providing an intimate yet heavy backdrop to a hook-laden and alluringly replayable thirty-nine minutes. In addition to the eclectic folk influence, there’s a satisfying variety of songwriting from track to track, with “Ardaq,” “Cɯsqa:n,” and “Dɔʃɔrum” exemplifying the enticing synthesis of styles. More than anything else, Hounds of Bayanay embodies heart and fun, warming my chilly days with a well-executed platter of Eastern-influenced folk metal. Don’t skip this one, or the decision could hound you.

KEM by Hounds Of Bayanay

Blood Red Throne // Siltskin [December 05, 2025 – Soulseller Records]

I’m shoving up against the deadline to wedge this one in, but Blood Red Throne’s latest deserves a mention, and bulldozing is just the sort of thing you should do while listening to BRT’s brand of bludgeoning, pit-stomping romp. Back in December, the venerable Norwegian death metal act dropped twelfth album Siltskin, maintaining their prolific and consistent release schedule. In addition to their dependable output, BRT stays the course with pummeling, brutish pomp. In his coverage of Nonagon and Imperial Congregation, Doc Grier drums up comparisons to Old Man’s Child, Panzerchrist, and Hypocrisy, and while I’m not inclined to disagree on those points, I’ll add that Siltskin also harkens to Kill-era Cannibal Corpse in its slick coalition of mid-paced slammers, warp-speed blitzes, and fat ‘n’ frolicking bass. Add to that the sly, sticky melody from the likes of Sentenced’s North from Here (“Vestigial Remnants”), and you’ve got a recipe for a righteous forty-five-minute smash-a-thon. Blood Red Throne’s last few records have been among their best, which is an incredible feat for a band this far into their career. While Siltskin doesn’t surpass BRT’s high-water mark, it keeps up, and if you’re hungry for an aural beatdown, then Blood Red Throne would like to throw their crown into the ring for consideration.

Siltskin by Blood Red Throne

Gotsu-Totsu-Kotsu // Immortality [December 17, 2025 – Bang the Head Records]

I am woefully late to the charms of Gotsu-Totsu-Kotsu, a Japanese death metal outfit prominently featuring slap ‘n’ pop bass. Had it not been for our trusty Flippered Friend, I might have continued this grievous injustice of ignorance, but thankfully, this is not the timeline to which I’m doomed. Immortality is Gotsu-Totsu-Kotsu’s seventh album, and those who enjoy the band’s previous work should remain satisfied. For new acolytes, Gotsu-Totsu-Kotsu grasps the rabid intensity of Vader and Krisiun and imbues it with a funky edge. Meaty bass rumbles and sprightly slapped accents, provided by bassist/vocalist Haruhisa Takahata, merge with Kouki Akita’s kit obliteration to establish a thunderous, unrelenting rhythm section. Atop the lower end’s heft, Keiichi Enjouji shreds and squeals with thrashy vigor and a keen understanding of melody. First proper track “Anima Immortalis” even includes gang intonations that work so well, I wish they were more prevalent across the album. The sum total of Gotsu-Totsu-Kotsu’s atmosphere is one of plucky exuberance that strikes with the force of a roundhouse kick to the dome. Had I discovered it sooner, Immortality would have qualified for a 2025 year-end honorable mention, as I haven’t been able to stop spinning it or the band’s prior releases.4 Though I’m still in the honeymoon phase, I expect this platter to live on in my listening, and recommend you not miss this GTK killer like I almost did.

Thus Spoke’s Random Revelations

The Algorithm // Recursive Infinity [November 21st, 2025 – Self Released]

I’ve been a fan of The Algorithm since the early days, back when their electronica-djent was almost twee in its experimental joy, spliced with light-hearted samples. Over the years, Rémi Gallego has tuned his flair for mesmeric, playful compositions to develop a richer, more streamlined sound. Recursive Infinity continues the recent upward trend Data Renaissance began. With riffs and rhythms the slickest since Brute Force, and melodies the brightest and most colourful since equally-prettily adorned Polymorphic Code, it’s a cyberpunk tour-de-force. The wildness is trained, chunky heaviness grounding magnetic melodies (“Race Condition,” “Mutex,” “By Design”), dense chugging transitioning seamlessly into techno (“Advanced Iteration Technique,” “Hollowing,” “Graceful Degradation), and adding bite to bubbly, candy-coloured soundscapes (“Rainbow Table,”). The skittering of breakbeats tempers synthwave (“Endless Iteration), and bright pulses wrap cascading electro-core (“Race Condition,” “Mutex”) and orchestral melodrama (“Recursive Infinity”). It’s often strongly reminiscent of some point in The Algorithm’s history, but everything is upgraded from charming to entrancing. This provides a new way to interpret Recursive Infinity: not just a reference to an endless loop in general, but to Boucle Infinie (Infinite Loop)—Remi’s other musical project—and by extension, The Algorithm themselves. Yet he is still experimenting, including vocoder vocals (“Endless Iteration,” “By Design”) for a surprisingly successful dark-Daft Punk vibe in slower, moodier moments. With nostalgic throwbacks transformed so beautifully, and the continued evolution, there’s simply no way I can ignore The Algorithm now. And neither should you.

Recursive Infinity by The Algorithm

Owlswald’s Holiday Scraps

Sun of the Suns // Entanglement [December 12th, 2025 – Scarlet Records]

Bands and labels take heed—We reserve December for two things: Listurnalia and celebrating another trip around the sun. It is not for releasing new music. Yet this blunder persists, ensuring we inevitably miss gems like Sun of the Suns’ sophomore effort, Entanglement.5 The record dropped just as the world was tuning out for the year, and it deserves much better. Building on the foundation of their 2021 debut, TIIT, the Italian trio has significantly beefed up their progressive death formula. Mixing tech-death articulation with deathcore brutality, Entanglement ensures fans of Fallujah will feel right at home with its effervescent clean melodies and crystalline textures. Francesca Paoli (Fleshgod Apocalypse) returns to provide another masterclass behind the kit with rapid-fire double-bass, blasts, and tom fills, while guitarists Marco Righetti and Ludovico Cioffi deliver cosmic shredding and radiant solos that are both technical and deliberate. While the early tracks lean into Fallujahian songcraft and Tesseract-style arpeggios, the album shines brightest late when the group largely sheds its stylistic orbit. “Please, Blackout My Eyes” pivots toward a majestic Aeternam vibe with ethereal tech-death incisiveness, while “One With the Sun” and “The Void Where Sound Ends Its Path” hit like a sledgehammer with Xenobiotic’s deathcore grooves. Though Luca Dave Scarlatti’s vocals lack differentiation, the sheer quality of the compositions carries the weight, proving Sun of the Suns are much more than mere clones.

Entanglement by Sun Of The Suns

Holy Noon by MAIKA & Bertram Burkert is a stunning Self-Released track that lingers in the mind for a long time. #music #maika #bertramburkert #holynoon #SelfReleased

https://evl.one/holy-noon-by-maika-bertram-burkert