#selfrelease — Public Fediverse posts

Canadian cellist Raphael Weinroth-Browne probably needs no introduction at this point, which is a bit surprising, given that this is a metal blog. He first graced these halls in 2015 through The Visit, and, as a soloist, in early 2020 with the spectacular Worlds Within. By now, his “not not metal” approach to cello is a familiar comfort to this reviewer in particular. He is a frequent guest on my year-end lists, and I always look forward to his work, especially since last year’s Lifeblood, which—hang on, that was just last year? Turns out Weinroth-Browne has been busy over the last little bit, with his third full-length, Empyrean, coming less than a year after the last. That might be an indication we should be wary, or maybe the man is simply filled with good ideas. Let’s find out.

Empyrean is different than most everything Raphael Weinroth-Browne has done recently. Generally, I think of his work as being neo-classical, but there’s a clear metal influence in what he does that acts as a sort of anchor to his work—certainly Lifeblood had a heavy spine that guided much of its direction. But Empyrean began its days as a commission from a contemporary dance company, an invitation for Weinroth-Browne to build a score for a show called BACH Reimagined. The metal influence is there, of course, but this time intertwined with baroque sensibilities. As a result, it is less tangible, more open, and really highlights the “classical.” Tracks flow in and out of each other without clear breaks—I often check my player around track four (the dream-like “Murmuration”), surprised to realize I’m not on the first song anymore. Nowhere near it, in fact—Empyrean is stealing my sense of time.

That is the album’s main strength: it flows. Not quite like Worlds Within, where everything was re-dedicated around core ideas, but in a natural, airy way that just sort of glides from one idea to the next without looking back. The brief-yet-dramatic romp of “Remnant” becomes the journeying “Evocation” before you know it, and it’s not until “Integration” (track five!) that I notice we’ve moved well past the opener. Speaking of “Evocation,” it’s a gorgeous song and an album highlight. It swells softly, capturing an adventurous feeling with impressively quiet grace. Later, “Reflection” brings in more of that metal influence Raphael Weinroth-Browne knows and loves, with percussion and backing riffs that support a searching, soaring melody. It maintains the quiet dignity Empyrean is built on while still feeling like the kind of thing you might read about on a metal blog—”classic” Raphael Weinroth-Browne. Of course, we get there without really realizing we’ve gotten there; it doesn’t flow seamlessly from the earlier “Sanctum,” but the groundwork is laid so well that it doesn’t feel out of place on an album much more classical than I’d expected.

I could argue that the flow of Empyrean is perhaps its greatest drawback too. There are many great ideas on Empyrean that appear once only and are quickly discarded as the unyielding cello moves to its next idea. On Lifeblood, the longer track lengths often meant we stayed with one central idea for an extended length of time, building around it and creating something impactful. While Empyrean is ten full minutes shorter (around 48 minutes over nine tracks), it feels somehow longer as the songs blend and occasionally lose ground transitioning from one ephemeral idea to the next. We end the journey with the title track, which sets down a gorgeous melody that builds and swells and fades, but never really goes anywhere or does anything. It’s beautiful, but it’s restrained. That may just be the metalhead in me talking—Empyrean takes us further from our “comfort zone” (in that this is a metal blog) than previous Raphael Weinroth-Browne albums—but it does feel like Empyrean is not as focused as it could be.

In fact, Empyrean feels almost like an improvisation, like Raphael Weinroth-Browne is speaking through his instrument, freehand, and inviting us to just listen. It’s a great way to spend the better part of an hour, and it sounds beautiful as ever—he is a master of his instrument. Empyrean feels a touch unfocused compared to previous releases, but if you want to just close your eyes and follow the threads of this journey, it is still as rewarding and enriching an experience as I’ve come to hope for.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Self release
Websites: raphaelweinroth-browne.bandcamp.com | raphaelweinrothbrowne.com | facebook.com/raphcello
Releases Worldwide: September 11th, 2026

Canadian cellist Raphael Weinroth-Browne probably needs no introduction at this point, which is a bit surprising, given that this is a metal blog. He first graced these halls in 2015 through The Visit, and, as a soloist, in early 2020 with the spectacular Worlds Within. By now, his “not not metal” approach to cello is a familiar comfort to this reviewer in particular. He is a frequent guest on my year-end lists, and I always look forward to his work, especially since last year’s Lifeblood, which—hang on, that was just last year? Turns out Weinroth-Browne has been busy over the last little bit, with his third full-length, Empyrean, coming less than a year after the last. That might be an indication we should be wary, or maybe the man is simply filled with good ideas. Let’s find out.

Empyrean is different than most everything Raphael Weinroth-Browne has done recently. Generally, I think of his work as being neo-classical, but there’s a clear metal influence in what he does that acts as a sort of anchor to his work—certainly Lifeblood had a heavy spine that guided much of its direction. But Empyrean began its days as a commission from a contemporary dance company, an invitation for Weinroth-Browne to build a score for a show called BACH Reimagined. The metal influence is there, of course, but this time intertwined with baroque sensibilities. As a result, it is less tangible, more open, and really highlights the “classical.” Tracks flow in and out of each other without clear breaks—I often check my player around track four (the dream-like “Murmuration”), surprised to realize I’m not on the first song anymore. Nowhere near it, in fact—Empyrean is stealing my sense of time.

That is the album’s main strength: it flows. Not quite like Worlds Within, where everything was re-dedicated around core ideas, but in a natural, airy way that just sort of glides from one idea to the next without looking back. The brief-yet-dramatic romp of “Remnant” becomes the journeying “Evocation” before you know it, and it’s not until “Integration” (track five!) that I notice we’ve moved well past the opener. Speaking of “Evocation,” it’s a gorgeous song and an album highlight. It swells softly, capturing an adventurous feeling with impressively quiet grace. Later, “Reflection” brings in more of that metal influence Raphael Weinroth-Browne knows and loves, with percussion and backing riffs that support a searching, soaring melody. It maintains the quiet dignity Empyrean is built on while still feeling like the kind of thing you might read about on a metal blog—”classic” Raphael Weinroth-Browne. Of course, we get there without really realizing we’ve gotten there; it doesn’t flow seamlessly from the earlier “Sanctum,” but the groundwork is laid so well that it doesn’t feel out of place on an album much more classical than I’d expected.

I could argue that the flow of Empyrean is perhaps its greatest drawback too. There are many great ideas on Empyrean that appear once only and are quickly discarded as the unyielding cello moves to its next idea. On Lifeblood, the longer track lengths often meant we stayed with one central idea for an extended length of time, building around it and creating something impactful. While Empyrean is ten full minutes shorter (around 48 minutes over nine tracks), it feels somehow longer as the songs blend and occasionally lose ground transitioning from one ephemeral idea to the next. We end the journey with the title track, which sets down a gorgeous melody that builds and swells and fades, but never really goes anywhere or does anything. It’s beautiful, but it’s restrained. That may just be the metalhead in me talking—Empyrean takes us further from our “comfort zone” (in that this is a metal blog) than previous Raphael Weinroth-Browne albums—but it does feel like Empyrean is not as focused as it could be.

In fact, Empyrean feels almost like an improvisation, like Raphael Weinroth-Browne is speaking through his instrument, freehand, and inviting us to just listen. It’s a great way to spend the better part of an hour, and it sounds beautiful as ever—he is a master of his instrument. Empyrean feels a touch unfocused compared to previous releases, but if you want to just close your eyes and follow the threads of this journey, it is still as rewarding and enriching an experience as I’ve come to hope for.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Self release
Websites: raphaelweinroth-browne.bandcamp.com | raphaelweinrothbrowne.com | facebook.com/raphcello
Releases Worldwide: September 11th, 2026

Canadian cellist Raphael Weinroth-Browne probably needs no introduction at this point, which is a bit surprising, given that this is a metal blog. He first graced these halls in 2015 through The Visit, and, as a soloist, in early 2020 with the spectacular Worlds Within. By now, his “not not metal” approach to cello is a familiar comfort to this reviewer in particular. He is a frequent guest on my year-end lists, and I always look forward to his work, especially since last year’s Lifeblood, which—hang on, that was just last year? Turns out Weinroth-Browne has been busy over the last little bit, with his third full-length, Empyrean, coming less than a year after the last. That might be an indication we should be wary, or maybe the man is simply filled with good ideas. Let’s find out.

Empyrean is different than most everything Raphael Weinroth-Browne has done recently. Generally, I think of his work as being neo-classical, but there’s a clear metal influence in what he does that acts as a sort of anchor to his work—certainly Lifeblood had a heavy spine that guided much of its direction. But Empyrean began its days as a commission from a contemporary dance company, an invitation for Weinroth-Browne to build a score for a show called BACH Reimagined. The metal influence is there, of course, but this time intertwined with baroque sensibilities. As a result, it is less tangible, more open, and really highlights the “classical.” Tracks flow in and out of each other without clear breaks—I often check my player around track four (the dream-like “Murmuration”), surprised to realize I’m not on the first song anymore. Nowhere near it, in fact—Empyrean is stealing my sense of time.

That is the album’s main strength: it flows. Not quite like Worlds Within, where everything was re-dedicated around core ideas, but in a natural, airy way that just sort of glides from one idea to the next without looking back. The brief-yet-dramatic romp of “Remnant” becomes the journeying “Evocation” before you know it, and it’s not until “Integration” (track five!) that I notice we’ve moved well past the opener. Speaking of “Evocation,” it’s a gorgeous song and an album highlight. It swells softly, capturing an adventurous feeling with impressively quiet grace. Later, “Reflection” brings in more of that metal influence Raphael Weinroth-Browne knows and loves, with percussion and backing riffs that support a searching, soaring melody. It maintains the quiet dignity Empyrean is built on while still feeling like the kind of thing you might read about on a metal blog—”classic” Raphael Weinroth-Browne. Of course, we get there without really realizing we’ve gotten there; it doesn’t flow seamlessly from the earlier “Sanctum,” but the groundwork is laid so well that it doesn’t feel out of place on an album much more classical than I’d expected.

I could argue that the flow of Empyrean is perhaps its greatest drawback too. There are many great ideas on Empyrean that appear once only and are quickly discarded as the unyielding cello moves to its next idea. On Lifeblood, the longer track lengths often meant we stayed with one central idea for an extended length of time, building around it and creating something impactful. While Empyrean is ten full minutes shorter (around 48 minutes over nine tracks), it feels somehow longer as the songs blend and occasionally lose ground transitioning from one ephemeral idea to the next. We end the journey with the title track, which sets down a gorgeous melody that builds and swells and fades, but never really goes anywhere or does anything. It’s beautiful, but it’s restrained. That may just be the metalhead in me talking—Empyrean takes us further from our “comfort zone” (in that this is a metal blog) than previous Raphael Weinroth-Browne albums—but it does feel like Empyrean is not as focused as it could be.

In fact, Empyrean feels almost like an improvisation, like Raphael Weinroth-Browne is speaking through his instrument, freehand, and inviting us to just listen. It’s a great way to spend the better part of an hour, and it sounds beautiful as ever—he is a master of his instrument. Empyrean feels a touch unfocused compared to previous releases, but if you want to just close your eyes and follow the threads of this journey, it is still as rewarding and enriching an experience as I’ve come to hope for.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Self release
Websites: raphaelweinroth-browne.bandcamp.com | raphaelweinrothbrowne.com | facebook.com/raphcello
Releases Worldwide: September 11th, 2026

Canadian cellist Raphael Weinroth-Browne probably needs no introduction at this point, which is a bit surprising, given that this is a metal blog. He first graced these halls in 2015 through The Visit, and, as a soloist, in early 2020 with the spectacular Worlds Within. By now, his “not not metal” approach to cello is a familiar comfort to this reviewer in particular. He is a frequent guest on my year-end lists, and I always look forward to his work, especially since last year’s Lifeblood, which—hang on, that was just last year? Turns out Weinroth-Browne has been busy over the last little bit, with his third full-length, Empyrean, coming less than a year after the last. That might be an indication we should be wary, or maybe the man is simply filled with good ideas. Let’s find out.

Empyrean is different than most everything Raphael Weinroth-Browne has done recently. Generally, I think of his work as being neo-classical, but there’s a clear metal influence in what he does that acts as a sort of anchor to his work—certainly Lifeblood had a heavy spine that guided much of its direction. But Empyrean began its days as a commission from a contemporary dance company, an invitation for Weinroth-Browne to build a score for a show called BACH Reimagined. The metal influence is there, of course, but this time intertwined with baroque sensibilities. As a result, it is less tangible, more open, and really highlights the “classical.” Tracks flow in and out of each other without clear breaks—I often check my player around track four (the dream-like “Murmuration”), surprised to realize I’m not on the first song anymore. Nowhere near it, in fact—Empyrean is stealing my sense of time.

That is the album’s main strength: it flows. Not quite like Worlds Within, where everything was re-dedicated around core ideas, but in a natural, airy way that just sort of glides from one idea to the next without looking back. The brief-yet-dramatic romp of “Remnant” becomes the journeying “Evocation” before you know it, and it’s not until “Integration” (track five!) that I notice we’ve moved well past the opener. Speaking of “Evocation,” it’s a gorgeous song and an album highlight. It swells softly, capturing an adventurous feeling with impressively quiet grace. Later, “Reflection” brings in more of that metal influence Raphael Weinroth-Browne knows and loves, with percussion and backing riffs that support a searching, soaring melody. It maintains the quiet dignity Empyrean is built on while still feeling like the kind of thing you might read about on a metal blog—”classic” Raphael Weinroth-Browne. Of course, we get there without really realizing we’ve gotten there; it doesn’t flow seamlessly from the earlier “Sanctum,” but the groundwork is laid so well that it doesn’t feel out of place on an album much more classical than I’d expected.

I could argue that the flow of Empyrean is perhaps its greatest drawback too. There are many great ideas on Empyrean that appear once only and are quickly discarded as the unyielding cello moves to its next idea. On Lifeblood, the longer track lengths often meant we stayed with one central idea for an extended length of time, building around it and creating something impactful. While Empyrean is ten full minutes shorter (around 48 minutes over nine tracks), it feels somehow longer as the songs blend and occasionally lose ground transitioning from one ephemeral idea to the next. We end the journey with the title track, which sets down a gorgeous melody that builds and swells and fades, but never really goes anywhere or does anything. It’s beautiful, but it’s restrained. That may just be the metalhead in me talking—Empyrean takes us further from our “comfort zone” (in that this is a metal blog) than previous Raphael Weinroth-Browne albums—but it does feel like Empyrean is not as focused as it could be.

In fact, Empyrean feels almost like an improvisation, like Raphael Weinroth-Browne is speaking through his instrument, freehand, and inviting us to just listen. It’s a great way to spend the better part of an hour, and it sounds beautiful as ever—he is a master of his instrument. Empyrean feels a touch unfocused compared to previous releases, but if you want to just close your eyes and follow the threads of this journey, it is still as rewarding and enriching an experience as I’ve come to hope for.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Self release
Websites: raphaelweinroth-browne.bandcamp.com | raphaelweinrothbrowne.com | facebook.com/raphcello
Releases Worldwide: September 11th, 2026

Canadian cellist Raphael Weinroth-Browne probably needs no introduction at this point, which is a bit surprising, given that this is a metal blog. He first graced these halls in 2015 through The Visit, and, as a soloist, in early 2020 with the spectacular Worlds Within. By now, his “not not metal” approach to cello is a familiar comfort to this reviewer in particular. He is a frequent guest on my year-end lists, and I always look forward to his work, especially since last year’s Lifeblood, which—hang on, that was just last year? Turns out Weinroth-Browne has been busy over the last little bit, with his third full-length, Empyrean, coming less than a year after the last. That might be an indication we should be wary, or maybe the man is simply filled with good ideas. Let’s find out.

Empyrean is different than most everything Raphael Weinroth-Browne has done recently. Generally, I think of his work as being neo-classical, but there’s a clear metal influence in what he does that acts as a sort of anchor to his work—certainly Lifeblood had a heavy spine that guided much of its direction. But Empyrean began its days as a commission from a contemporary dance company, an invitation for Weinroth-Browne to build a score for a show called BACH Reimagined. The metal influence is there, of course, but this time intertwined with baroque sensibilities. As a result, it is less tangible, more open, and really highlights the “classical.” Tracks flow in and out of each other without clear breaks—I often check my player around track four (the dream-like “Murmuration”), surprised to realize I’m not on the first song anymore. Nowhere near it, in fact—Empyrean is stealing my sense of time.

That is the album’s main strength: it flows. Not quite like Worlds Within, where everything was re-dedicated around core ideas, but in a natural, airy way that just sort of glides from one idea to the next without looking back. The brief-yet-dramatic romp of “Remnant” becomes the journeying “Evocation” before you know it, and it’s not until “Integration” (track five!) that I notice we’ve moved well past the opener. Speaking of “Evocation,” it’s a gorgeous song and an album highlight. It swells softly, capturing an adventurous feeling with impressively quiet grace. Later, “Reflection” brings in more of that metal influence Raphael Weinroth-Browne knows and loves, with percussion and backing riffs that support a searching, soaring melody. It maintains the quiet dignity Empyrean is built on while still feeling like the kind of thing you might read about on a metal blog—”classic” Raphael Weinroth-Browne. Of course, we get there without really realizing we’ve gotten there; it doesn’t flow seamlessly from the earlier “Sanctum,” but the groundwork is laid so well that it doesn’t feel out of place on an album much more classical than I’d expected.

I could argue that the flow of Empyrean is perhaps its greatest drawback too. There are many great ideas on Empyrean that appear once only and are quickly discarded as the unyielding cello moves to its next idea. On Lifeblood, the longer track lengths often meant we stayed with one central idea for an extended length of time, building around it and creating something impactful. While Empyrean is ten full minutes shorter (around 48 minutes over nine tracks), it feels somehow longer as the songs blend and occasionally lose ground transitioning from one ephemeral idea to the next. We end the journey with the title track, which sets down a gorgeous melody that builds and swells and fades, but never really goes anywhere or does anything. It’s beautiful, but it’s restrained. That may just be the metalhead in me talking—Empyrean takes us further from our “comfort zone” (in that this is a metal blog) than previous Raphael Weinroth-Browne albums—but it does feel like Empyrean is not as focused as it could be.

In fact, Empyrean feels almost like an improvisation, like Raphael Weinroth-Browne is speaking through his instrument, freehand, and inviting us to just listen. It’s a great way to spend the better part of an hour, and it sounds beautiful as ever—he is a master of his instrument. Empyrean feels a touch unfocused compared to previous releases, but if you want to just close your eyes and follow the threads of this journey, it is still as rewarding and enriching an experience as I’ve come to hope for.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Self release
Websites: raphaelweinroth-browne.bandcamp.com | raphaelweinrothbrowne.com | facebook.com/raphcello
Releases Worldwide: September 11th, 2026