#selfreleases — Public Fediverse posts

Cemented upon rebellious ideals that consistently buck the currents of popularity, the very nature of metal demands change. Yet some bedrocks of metal weather the winds of time and endure: thrash’s inevitable association with denim and cheap beer, OSDM’s obdurate immutability, and power metal’s lactose dependence persist. Yet perhaps none are as eternal as the legacy of traditional heavy metal bearing the banner of trve, and it’s under this standard that Fairfield, Connecticut’s Unknown marches. These Nutmeggers harbor loyalty for the olde school, and although they spice up sophomore full-length Graveyard of Empires with flavors of power and thrash, the overwhelming core of their concoction is one of classic heft. In the end, is it a draught worth quaffing, or a brew better left Unknown?

Though bits of other genres creep into Graveyard of Empires, Unknown’s comparators remain solidly rooted in classic heavy metal. Fans of Iron Maiden will uncover plenty of familiar qualities, especially from their aughts-era output, while Manilla Road and Jag Panzer offer further reference points. Mainly, Unknown operates in soaring mid-tempos that conjure sweeping vistas and epic atmospheres (“Ardennes Offensive,” “Guns of August”). A fair amount of Saxon reveals itself as well, particularly with how Unknown’s guitar work seamlessly oscillates between valiant, lofty leads and straightforward power chords that drive momentum and musical tension. Even amongst these towering touchstones, though, Unknown crafts an identity outside their influences.

Unknown’s music ferries listeners to vibrant landscapes on Graveyard of Empires. Whiffs of Ancient Egypt (“Graveyard of Empires”), galloping western melodrama (“Warrior Ascension”), and tribal paradise (“Land of the Pure”) enrich the record with a wealth of backdrops that feel fleshed out and distinct. The opening triad of “Ardennes Offensive,” “Graveyard of Empires,” and “Guns of August” brim with fiery twin guitars that flit between beautifully built sustains gleaming with majesty and burly riffs that crunch and punch. “Reverie Code” and “Warrior Ascension” likewise crackle with evocative six-string action, and credit to Aamir Syed and Michael Dale for their savvy guitar work on Graveyard. Meanwhile, bassist Andic Salcedo and session drummer Nick Bellmore supply a rock-solid rhythm section, rarely calling attention to themselves but ably girding Unknown’s melodic nucleus while unleashing subtle performances that are easy to miss unless attuned to them.

Despite the many things Unknown does well on Graveyard of Empires, I often find the vocal decisions and deliveries too distracting to enjoy. Given vocalist Matt Fisher’s compelling performance on Unknown’s debut Vanishing Point, the shift in direction is puzzling. Where Fisher’s range mostly dwelt in a comfortable mid-register on Vanishing Point, Graveyard of Empires sees him deploy many more falsettos across the album (“Guns of August,” “I Am Death,” “On the Edge of Peace”). Fisher clearly has talent, but his upper reaches undercut performances when he pushes his deliveries past the brink of his ability to control them, which is a real shame because when he drops into a lower range or growls, things work much better (“Ardennes Offensive,” “Graveyard of Empires”). On Vanishing Point, Fisher did a swell job with the top rungs of his vocal range, particularly on tracks “Where Men Find Glory” and “Mission No. 84”, so the miss here is especially perplexing. More positively the bright mix sparkles, enabling guitars and drums to strut their stuff. Additionally, the runtime packs an avalanche of riffs and aural panoramas into just forty minutes.

Broadly speaking, there tend to be two types of Mixed albums in my mind. The first can be characterized by records that are generally fine and do most things right without kindling enough interest for higher engagement. The second involves LPs that boast a higher ceiling but accommodate a flaw too glaring to look past. Graveyard of Empires falls squarely into this latter camp with a baffling foible that eluded Unknown’s debut. Still, the band does so much right on every other front that I have faith they’ll smooth out the kinks next time around. Until then, I’ll revisit some of these tracks on occasion and leave the rest in the Graveyard.

Rating: Mixed
DR: 10 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Self-Release
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: September 4th, 2026

Trap a toddler, just any foundling who wanders into your snare, and he’ll tell you: maximum gross-out can never be induced by sight, smell, touch, or taste alone. No, it’s that combination of all or some of the above that we call texture–texture is the most reliable shortcut to the gag reflex. With that in mind, Ferox eyed the self-titled debut from Aussie sextet Slime Dimension. AMG Industries already has a Vomit Guy on staff. Could I carve out a similar niche for myself in all things slimy and mucous-y? Ya gotta specialize to survive the onslaught of n00bs coming for your spot. I want to be Snot Guy! Will these nine tracks of death metal, delivered in a fleeting, sneeze-like twenty-six minutes, get me there? Empty your sinuses on me, Slime Dimension, and let’s find out.

When you unwad the tissue that is Slime Dimension, you may be surprised by the nuggets inside. The band name and album art promise something burbling and viscous. Instead, Slime Dimension traffics in polished and even catchy melodeath. From the moment you click “play,” it’s apparent that this platter is more of a sweet treat than it is a pile o’slop. Opener “Carcass Gravy” snaps you to attention with big Skeletonwitch vibes, as thrash-y riffs and Chance Garnette-style vocals fly by in a blur. Track after track whips past, with Slime Dimension displaying an aptitude for infectious choruses (“Carcass Gravy,” “The Beyond”) and tastefully dispensed guitar solos (“Weightless, Unhinged,” “Necrotic Solace”) that evoke genre titans The Black Dahlia Murder. Sprinkle it all with an overlay of the Party Lovecraft ethos that distinguishes Xoth and Slugdge from their peers, and it’s apparent that Slime Dimension has coughed up an appealing loogie. Even if this long player never escapes the shadow of its influences, Slime Dimension is still mostly worthy of the sliver of time it asks of you.

This is all familiar territory, but Slime Dimension make small choices along the way that keep things from getting mired in formula. The guitars of Sloptimus Slime and Slimeon Phoenix (a duo that’s been replaced since recording by Arnold Sludgenator and John Slimebo) intersect with the songs in interesting ways. They don’t simply plop a solo down two-thirds of the way through every track. That restraint makes the classic rock-inflected bars that finally drop during album centerpiece “Weightless, Unhinged” land harder than they otherwise might. These well-conceived dollops of novelty pop up throughout the slab’s brief run to make twenty-six minutes disappear before anyone has time to say “Gesundheit.”

The time might fly by too fast. Slime Dimension is a fleet and entertaining listen, but few moments stand out or leave a lasting impact. “Weightless, Unhinged,” “Necrotic Solace,” and closer “The Beyond” sport dynamic songwriting, and all three will stick to the wall if you flick ’em yonder. There are no outright duds on the platter, but the remaining tracks can feel like they’ve been buffed and shined to the point of becoming slight. Slime Dimension’s debut is crafted with enormous good cheer, from the earworm riffs to the slime-based fake names that come off just a bit goofy. The album lacks substance, though; there’s never enough nutritious gristle to justify the insulin spike these nine offerings are sure to induce.

An inessential good time is still a good time. Slime Dimension spew forth with a strong handle on their sound and the ability to channel their influences with brio. I got through this album with ease each and every time I played it. I’d bet large sums that the band is a ton of fun in a live setting. If they’re going to make an impact in the studio, though, they might want to balance their exuberance with something stickier.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: FLAC
Label: Self-Release
Websites: slimedimension.bandcamp.com|slimedimension.com
Releases Worldwide: September 11th, 2026

Trap a toddler, just any foundling who wanders into your snare, and he’ll tell you: maximum gross-out can never be induced by sight, smell, touch, or taste alone. No, it’s that combination of all or some of the above that we call texture–texture is the most reliable shortcut to the gag reflex. With that in mind, Ferox eyed the self-titled debut from Aussie sextet Slime Dimension. AMG Industries already has a Vomit Guy on staff. Could I carve out a similar niche for myself in all things slimy and mucous-y? Ya gotta specialize to survive the onslaught of n00bs coming for your spot. I want to be Snot Guy! Will these nine tracks of death metal, delivered in a fleeting, sneeze-like twenty-six minutes, get me there? Empty your sinuses on me, Slime Dimension, and let’s find out.

When you unwad the tissue that is Slime Dimension, you may be surprised by the nuggets inside. The band name and album art promise something burbling and viscous. Instead, Slime Dimension traffics in polished and even catchy melodeath. From the moment you click “play,” it’s apparent that this platter is more of a sweet treat than it is a pile o’slop. Opener “Carcass Gravy” snaps you to attention with big Skeletonwitch vibes, as thrash-y riffs and Chance Garnette-style vocals fly by in a blur. Track after track whips past, with Slime Dimension displaying an aptitude for infectious choruses (“Carcass Gravy,” “The Beyond”) and tastefully dispensed guitar solos (“Weightless, Unhinged,” “Necrotic Solace”) that evoke genre titans The Black Dahlia Murder. Sprinkle it all with an overlay of the Party Lovecraft ethos that distinguishes Xoth and Slugdge from their peers, and it’s apparent that Slime Dimension has coughed up an appealing loogie. Even if this long player never escapes the shadow of its influences, Slime Dimension is still mostly worthy of the sliver of time it asks of you.

This is all familiar territory, but Slime Dimension make small choices along the way that keep things from getting mired in formula. The guitars of Sloptimus Slime and Slimeon Phoenix (a duo that’s been replaced since recording by Arnold Sludgenator and John Slimebo) intersect with the songs in interesting ways. They don’t simply plop a solo down two-thirds of the way through every track. That restraint makes the classic rock-inflected bars that finally drop during album centerpiece “Weightless, Unhinged” land harder than they otherwise might. These well-conceived dollops of novelty pop up throughout the slab’s brief run to make twenty-six minutes disappear before anyone has time to say “Gesundheit.”

The time might fly by too fast. Slime Dimension is a fleet and entertaining listen, but few moments stand out or leave a lasting impact. “Weightless, Unhinged,” “Necrotic Solace,” and closer “The Beyond” sport dynamic songwriting, and all three will stick to the wall if you flick ’em yonder. There are no outright duds on the platter, but the remaining tracks can feel like they’ve been buffed and shined to the point of becoming slight. Slime Dimension’s debut is crafted with enormous good cheer, from the earworm riffs to the slime-based fake names that come off just a bit goofy. The album lacks substance, though; there’s never enough nutritious gristle to justify the insulin spike these nine offerings are sure to induce.

An inessential good time is still a good time. Slime Dimension spew forth with a strong handle on their sound and the ability to channel their influences with brio. I got through this album with ease each and every time I played it. I’d bet large sums that the band is a ton of fun in a live setting. If they’re going to make an impact in the studio, though, they might want to balance their exuberance with something stickier.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: FLAC
Label: Self-Release
Websites: slimedimension.bandcamp.com|slimedimension.com
Releases Worldwide: September 11th, 2026

Trap a toddler, just any foundling who wanders into your snare, and he’ll tell you: maximum gross-out can never be induced by sight, smell, touch, or taste alone. No, it’s that combination of all or some of the above that we call texture–texture is the most reliable shortcut to the gag reflex. With that in mind, Ferox eyed the self-titled debut from Aussie sextet Slime Dimension. AMG Industries already has a Vomit Guy on staff. Could I carve out a similar niche for myself in all things slimy and mucous-y? Ya gotta specialize to survive the onslaught of n00bs coming for your spot. I want to be Snot Guy! Will these nine tracks of death metal, delivered in a fleeting, sneeze-like twenty-six minutes, get me there? Empty your sinuses on me, Slime Dimension, and let’s find out.

When you unwad the tissue that is Slime Dimension, you may be surprised by the nuggets inside. The band name and album art promise something burbling and viscous. Instead, Slime Dimension traffics in polished and even catchy melodeath. From the moment you click “play,” it’s apparent that this platter is more of a sweet treat than it is a pile o’slop. Opener “Carcass Gravy” snaps you to attention with big Skeletonwitch vibes, as thrash-y riffs and Chance Garnette-style vocals fly by in a blur. Track after track whips past, with Slime Dimension displaying an aptitude for infectious choruses (“Carcass Gravy,” “The Beyond”) and tastefully dispensed guitar solos (“Weightless, Unhinged,” “Necrotic Solace”) that evoke genre titans The Black Dahlia Murder. Sprinkle it all with an overlay of the Party Lovecraft ethos that distinguishes Xoth and Slugdge from their peers, and it’s apparent that Slime Dimension has coughed up an appealing loogie. Even if this long player never escapes the shadow of its influences, Slime Dimension is still mostly worthy of the sliver of time it asks of you.

This is all familiar territory, but Slime Dimension make small choices along the way that keep things from getting mired in formula. The guitars of Sloptimus Slime and Slimeon Phoenix (a duo that’s been replaced since recording by Arnold Sludgenator and John Slimebo) intersect with the songs in interesting ways. They don’t simply plop a solo down two-thirds of the way through every track. That restraint makes the classic rock-inflected bars that finally drop during album centerpiece “Weightless, Unhinged” land harder than they otherwise might. These well-conceived dollops of novelty pop up throughout the slab’s brief run to make twenty-six minutes disappear before anyone has time to say “Gesundheit.”

The time might fly by too fast. Slime Dimension is a fleet and entertaining listen, but few moments stand out or leave a lasting impact. “Weightless, Unhinged,” “Necrotic Solace,” and closer “The Beyond” sport dynamic songwriting, and all three will stick to the wall if you flick ’em yonder. There are no outright duds on the platter, but the remaining tracks can feel like they’ve been buffed and shined to the point of becoming slight. Slime Dimension’s debut is crafted with enormous good cheer, from the earworm riffs to the slime-based fake names that come off just a bit goofy. The album lacks substance, though; there’s never enough nutritious gristle to justify the insulin spike these nine offerings are sure to induce.

An inessential good time is still a good time. Slime Dimension spew forth with a strong handle on their sound and the ability to channel their influences with brio. I got through this album with ease each and every time I played it. I’d bet large sums that the band is a ton of fun in a live setting. If they’re going to make an impact in the studio, though, they might want to balance their exuberance with something stickier.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: FLAC
Label: Self-Release
Websites: slimedimension.bandcamp.com|slimedimension.com
Releases Worldwide: September 11th, 2026

Trap a toddler, just any foundling who wanders into your snare, and he’ll tell you: maximum gross-out can never be induced by sight, smell, touch, or taste alone. No, it’s that combination of all or some of the above that we call texture–texture is the most reliable shortcut to the gag reflex. With that in mind, Ferox eyed the self-titled debut from Aussie sextet Slime Dimension. AMG Industries already has a Vomit Guy on staff. Could I carve out a similar niche for myself in all things slimy and mucous-y? Ya gotta specialize to survive the onslaught of n00bs coming for your spot. I want to be Snot Guy! Will these nine tracks of death metal, delivered in a fleeting, sneeze-like twenty-six minutes, get me there? Empty your sinuses on me, Slime Dimension, and let’s find out.

When you unwad the tissue that is Slime Dimension, you may be surprised by the nuggets inside. The band name and album art promise something burbling and viscous. Instead, Slime Dimension traffics in polished and even catchy melodeath. From the moment you click “play,” it’s apparent that this platter is more of a sweet treat than it is a pile o’slop. Opener “Carcass Gravy” snaps you to attention with big Skeletonwitch vibes, as thrash-y riffs and Chance Garnette-style vocals fly by in a blur. Track after track whips past, with Slime Dimension displaying an aptitude for infectious choruses (“Carcass Gravy,” “The Beyond”) and tastefully dispensed guitar solos (“Weightless, Unhinged,” “Necrotic Solace”) that evoke genre titans The Black Dahlia Murder. Sprinkle it all with an overlay of the Party Lovecraft ethos that distinguishes Xoth and Slugdge from their peers, and it’s apparent that Slime Dimension has coughed up an appealing loogie. Even if this long player never escapes the shadow of its influences, Slime Dimension is still mostly worthy of the sliver of time it asks of you.

This is all familiar territory, but Slime Dimension make small choices along the way that keep things from getting mired in formula. The guitars of Sloptimus Slime and Slimeon Phoenix (a duo that’s been replaced since recording by Arnold Sludgenator and John Slimebo) intersect with the songs in interesting ways. They don’t simply plop a solo down two-thirds of the way through every track. That restraint makes the classic rock-inflected bars that finally drop during album centerpiece “Weightless, Unhinged” land harder than they otherwise might. These well-conceived dollops of novelty pop up throughout the slab’s brief run to make twenty-six minutes disappear before anyone has time to say “Gesundheit.”

The time might fly by too fast. Slime Dimension is a fleet and entertaining listen, but few moments stand out or leave a lasting impact. “Weightless, Unhinged,” “Necrotic Solace,” and closer “The Beyond” sport dynamic songwriting, and all three will stick to the wall if you flick ’em yonder. There are no outright duds on the platter, but the remaining tracks can feel like they’ve been buffed and shined to the point of becoming slight. Slime Dimension’s debut is crafted with enormous good cheer, from the earworm riffs to the slime-based fake names that come off just a bit goofy. The album lacks substance, though; there’s never enough nutritious gristle to justify the insulin spike these nine offerings are sure to induce.

An inessential good time is still a good time. Slime Dimension spew forth with a strong handle on their sound and the ability to channel their influences with brio. I got through this album with ease each and every time I played it. I’d bet large sums that the band is a ton of fun in a live setting. If they’re going to make an impact in the studio, though, they might want to balance their exuberance with something stickier.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: FLAC
Label: Self-Release
Websites: slimedimension.bandcamp.com|slimedimension.com
Releases Worldwide: September 11th, 2026

Trap a toddler, just any foundling who wanders into your snare, and he’ll tell you: maximum gross-out can never be induced by sight, smell, touch, or taste alone. No, it’s that combination of all or some of the above that we call texture–texture is the most reliable shortcut to the gag reflex. With that in mind, Ferox eyed the self-titled debut from Aussie sextet Slime Dimension. AMG Industries already has a Vomit Guy on staff. Could I carve out a similar niche for myself in all things slimy and mucous-y? Ya gotta specialize to survive the onslaught of n00bs coming for your spot. I want to be Snot Guy! Will these nine tracks of death metal, delivered in a fleeting, sneeze-like twenty-six minutes, get me there? Empty your sinuses on me, Slime Dimension, and let’s find out.

When you unwad the tissue that is Slime Dimension, you may be surprised by the nuggets inside. The band name and album art promise something burbling and viscous. Instead, Slime Dimension traffics in polished and even catchy melodeath. From the moment you click “play,” it’s apparent that this platter is more of a sweet treat than it is a pile o’slop. Opener “Carcass Gravy” snaps you to attention with big Skeletonwitch vibes, as thrash-y riffs and Chance Garnette-style vocals fly by in a blur. Track after track whips past, with Slime Dimension displaying an aptitude for infectious choruses (“Carcass Gravy,” “The Beyond”) and tastefully dispensed guitar solos (“Weightless, Unhinged,” “Necrotic Solace”) that evoke genre titans The Black Dahlia Murder. Sprinkle it all with an overlay of the Party Lovecraft ethos that distinguishes Xoth and Slugdge from their peers, and it’s apparent that Slime Dimension has coughed up an appealing loogie. Even if this long player never escapes the shadow of its influences, Slime Dimension is still mostly worthy of the sliver of time it asks of you.

This is all familiar territory, but Slime Dimension make small choices along the way that keep things from getting mired in formula. The guitars of Sloptimus Slime and Slimeon Phoenix (a duo that’s been replaced since recording by Arnold Sludgenator and John Slimebo) intersect with the songs in interesting ways. They don’t simply plop a solo down two-thirds of the way through every track. That restraint makes the classic rock-inflected bars that finally drop during album centerpiece “Weightless, Unhinged” land harder than they otherwise might. These well-conceived dollops of novelty pop up throughout the slab’s brief run to make twenty-six minutes disappear before anyone has time to say “Gesundheit.”

The time might fly by too fast. Slime Dimension is a fleet and entertaining listen, but few moments stand out or leave a lasting impact. “Weightless, Unhinged,” “Necrotic Solace,” and closer “The Beyond” sport dynamic songwriting, and all three will stick to the wall if you flick ’em yonder. There are no outright duds on the platter, but the remaining tracks can feel like they’ve been buffed and shined to the point of becoming slight. Slime Dimension’s debut is crafted with enormous good cheer, from the earworm riffs to the slime-based fake names that come off just a bit goofy. The album lacks substance, though; there’s never enough nutritious gristle to justify the insulin spike these nine offerings are sure to induce.

An inessential good time is still a good time. Slime Dimension spew forth with a strong handle on their sound and the ability to channel their influences with brio. I got through this album with ease each and every time I played it. I’d bet large sums that the band is a ton of fun in a live setting. If they’re going to make an impact in the studio, though, they might want to balance their exuberance with something stickier.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: FLAC
Label: Self-Release
Websites: slimedimension.bandcamp.com|slimedimension.com
Releases Worldwide: September 11th, 2026

There’s a lot of weird shit floating around the metalsphere, and that includes Voidthrone’s newest addition, Dreaming Rat. The Seattle quartet has been kicking around for a decade, and in that time have released three prior platters of escalating lunacy. Without question, Dreaming Rat is Voidthrone’s most unhinged concoction to date, and a quick look at their Bandcamp credits gives prospective listeners a window into the alchemical ingredients they cook with, including Otamatone, conch shell, jaw harp, vibraslap, digeridoo, spoons, and a fretless bass. Throw in vocalist Zhenya Frolov’s deranged vocal stylings, and you’ve got yourself a bona fide manic expression of dissonant blackened death metal. With so many disparate components in Dreaming Rat’s stew, does Voidthrone soothe the savage beast or unleash a waking nightmare?

Listening to Dreaming Rat is a bit like experiencing an auditory fever dream, where disconnected fragments congeal into lurid, atonal anarchy. Voidthrone didn’t arrive at this sound overnight, though. Debut Spiritual War Tactics whipped and frothed with the restrained vitality of Krallice, and follow-up Kur added jazz-informed touches in the vein of Imperial Triumphant. Physical Degradation evolved Voidthrone’s sound, integrating more unconventional instrumentation and pushing the band’s songwriting past its comfort zone. On Dreaming Rat, Voidthrone takes the blueprint laid out on Physical Degradation and indiscriminately expands the range for strange. The result sees Frolov stretching his vocal performance into frenzied tirades, covering the gamut from Replicant’s vomitous barks to Sigh’s oddball deliveries. The instrumentation also gets exponentially wackier, as it conjures the rabid wrath of Pyrrhon along with the chaotic instincts of Afterbirth, resulting in an unpredictable romp to the end of the world.

At Dreaming Rat’s core, Voidthrone details the life and death of a solar system through bleak eras, segmenting the album into present, past, and future. The arcs are presented in that order, with each one comprised of three songs. The present describes the apex of a civilization, harnessing the promises forged upon the hopes and chaos of the past. Meanwhile, Voidthrone paints a grim outlook for the future, specifically calling out ‘an extinguished, lonely death of the physical, spiritual, and cognitive.’1 The lyrics throughout Dreaming Rat read like the demented ravings of a madman’s manifesto,2 and while I don’t think I could have divined the album’s overarching concept from them alone, reading them amplifies the bedlam Voidthrone has crafted on Dreaming Rat.

Writing music this lawless may seem haphazard, but over repeated listens, I’ve begun to glimpse the method to Dreaming Rat’s madness. Without question, everyone in Voidthrone earns their stripes. Ronald Foodsack’s guitars drench Dreaming Rat with warbling dissonance, perpetually in flux so that there’s never a riff or refrain to inhibit the music’s incessant lurch. Whether moving at frantic paces (“III-I. Surfing the Abyss”) or decelerating to a plodding crawl (“II-II. Morbid Seagull”), Ron’s six-stringed blitz never stalls. Additionally, Gavin Brooks contributes acoustic guitar and solos while manning the glorious fretless bass.3 Technical death metal has hogged the fretless bass for too long, and I’m glad Voidthrone has the stones to add it to disso metal’s tool chest. Tracks like “I-I. Bergen” and “II-I. Homeless Animal” showcase the character the instrument offers, bolstering the ever-shifting nature of Dreaming Rat. Drummer Josh Keifer grounds the band ably, locked into a supporting role that allows the other instruments to take center stage while he keeps things on the rails. Frolov’s feral vocals and the host of unconventional instruments further enrich Voidthrone’s distinctive identity, establishing what sounds like it could be the death throes of the universe.

What Voidthrone accomplishes with Dreaming Rat is fascinating and unique, and merits everyone’s attention. Sure, some songs could be trimmed to make such a scathing album a bit shorter and more palatable, and the three arcs could use some musical cues to distinguish songs thematically from one another, but Dreaming Rat is a crowning achievement for the band. Voidthrone’s psychedelic psychosis makes bold promises on paper and completely delivers in fact, and when I’m in the mood to get really weird with it, this will be the album I reach for.

Rating: Very Good!
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Self-Release
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: May 8th, 2026

Herezjarcha—Arch-Heretic—is the sophomore of Pennsylvania-based Profane Elegy, who are determined to escape genre boundaries. Following the trajectory set by 2023’s When All is Nothing, it sees the co-existence if not coalescence of black and death metal, but also an atmospheric, ambient kind of doom, and only doubles down on each aspect. It’s not the first time a metal artist has claimed to eschew categorization, and many, if not most, modern artists in extreme subgenres borrow from less extreme ones and incorporate generous reverb. Profane Elegy’s claims, therefore, don’t excite special interest whether you’ve heard the debut or not; listeners dis/like their sound on its own terms. However, there is actually something different about the way they combine their disparate aspects, and Herezjarcha is all the stronger for it.

Dropped blindly into Herezjarcha at any random moment, you’d be forgiven for taking it for trve blackened death—reminiscent in particular of Keres, or a less-polished Vredehammer. Rough snarls rip like cold wind across mean-faced arpeggios skittering their way up and down sinister scales to unforgiving percussive assaults, satisfyingly gnarly. But with a snap, Profane Elegy’s mood swings from malice to despair, and clean vocals lead a mournful refrain, layered, post-black strums dominating the soundscape. Opener “Exeunt Omnes,” which begins—as many others do—with wild, thrashy black metal energy, prefigures the way the album repeatedly changes the vibe and takes its listener by surprise, as the riffs soften and are joined by softly sung “ohh-hh-hh”s. Their blackened base is rent by change, from stripped-back ambience to hearty sung-screamed duets, black n’ roll irreverence to sludgy blackened doom and frosty black metal proper. Though sounding very little alike in actuality, the best comparison to Profane Elegy’s marrying of a vibrant blackened death with overt melodicism led by cleans is Slugdge.1 Herezjarcha is far more intriguing and multifaceted than may appear on face value.

Herezjarcha by Profane Elegy

Profane Elegy do nothing by half-measures, and throw themselves with equal vigour into both their heavier and softer sides. Their blackened death is gnarly and dynamic, whether overtly aggressive (“I AM”) or in squealing, drawling pursuit of flair and acrobatics (“Haunted” “And Then We Are Gone”). The second-wave-adjacent harsh vocal production, slightly muted and noisy, adds to the overall rawness, intensifying the more straightforwardly brutal and giving grit to the more melodic, atmospherically inclined. On the former side, things really do get heavy, and the churning, howl-ridden soundscape is irresistible, but as the album progresses, it’s the latter that sees Profane Elegy doing some genuinely cool things. Eerie scales blend into a layered cascade of strums (“As My Heart Turns to Ash”), or invite the chords of melancholia to join them (“The Accuser”); more and more space is devoted to variously stripped-back quiet. Things don’t just hang in reverb; space opens in which a savage riff briefly grows mournful, and after few turns of tension, an almost gazey feel prevails as cleans take the lead (“As My Heart…”). It’s not the addition of atmosphere that’s good, it’s how Profane Elegy positions a mournful, post-adjacent mood with their harsh blackened side that manages to not sacrifice either, even when combined.

Yet, in committing as fully as they do to the spirit and execution of their disparate visages, Profane Elegy demonstrate that they haven’t quite refined the formula for their coexistence. The churning, variously vicious and epic blackened death on display on Herezjarcha is raucously enjoyable, while the vulnerability and atmosphere brought in by other influences create a powerful emotionality and works very well in combination. This doesn’t prevent the slightly awkward way one transitions to the other—particularly in the record’s first half. The balance and integration do improve as the runtime progresses, to the extent that the latter end, if stretched to the length of a full LP, would receive a higher score of at least one half figure. Still, the difference in the sound between the raw and ugly and the comparatively glossy is marked and can give the impression that one is suddenly listening to a totally different artist when the former switches places entirely for the other.

What Profane Elegy do achieve with Herezarcha, however, is to assert their skill and personality. Amidst a sea of underground metal artists pitching their bold and subversive takes, Profane Elegy stand in the sureness of honest distinction. They might not have cracked the complete execution yet, at a slim 38 minutes, Herezarcha is more than worth the time it takes to experience their unpolished expression.

Rating: Good
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 192 kbps mp3
Label: Self-Release
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: January 30th, 2026

Acidsloth – Acidsloth Review

By Thus Spoke

Can you guess what genre Acidsloth plays? Yes, that’s right, it’s thrash! Ok, no, obviously not, it’s stoner doom—what else with a name that’s a portmanteau of a drug and a notoriously slow-moving animal? Kicking1 around since 2021, Kraków’s Acidsloth already have two LPs to their name, but it’s their third that they bestow the honor of being self-titled. The reason is that this time, they’re a “full band” (to use their own terminology), totaling eight(!) musicians, five of whom perform vocals. In this sense, Acidsloth is kind of their debut. With a charmingly against-type depiction of their token animal, and the promise of “Eyehategod-level aggression mixed with Conan’s heaviness and Electric Wizard’s psychedelic weight,” Acidsloth are out to show they mean business.

Acidsloth’s more-is-more approach to vocalists sees them hand the mic to a new player on (almost) every track.2 This is a cool and unique way to inject a bit of flavor into what is an infamously monotonous subgenre, as we swap between the shriekier (Julia Markiewicz, Radosław Bury), hoarser (Jan Gajewski, Mateusz Zborowski) and the growlier (Patryk Kozera) interpretations of the sludge scream. Beyond this, their compositions follow a common trajectory, often beginning with atmospheric, slightly ominous plucking and spending most of their time brooding in distorted sludgy chugs to a sedated beat. It’s certainly solid (in literal density as well as aesthetic quality), and sometimes it’s even slick thanks to some beautifully-timed transitions and an elusive solo. But as a whole, it fails to have the weight it needs to support its posture.

The thing about having different vocalists on different songs is that it’s quite important to be able to hear them well enough to appreciate their individual skills. Unfortunately, Acidsloth’s vocal track is so low in the mix compared to the instrumentation that the shouts and screams are often lost in the fuzz and bang of guitar and bass drum (particularly on “Float” and “Sin”). Given this, you’d hope the riffs would make up for it, but here too, Acidsloth fumble the ball. Outside of two pretty sweet solos (“Hole,” “Puke”) the guitars only hint at interesting melodies with some hanging plucks (“Hole,” “Free,” “Puke,” “Satan”), and interspersed passages of up-or-down-tempo strumming (“Float,” “Satan”). There are little moments of brilliance where it seems Acidsloth finally finish coming up and deliver—brutal, sledgehammer sludge screams (“Float,” “Free”); that solo (“Hole”); groovily-tapping post metal tension (“Free,” “Satan”); moody liquid plucks (“Sin”). But it’s at these times when Acidsloth’s odd compositional habits truly hamstring what strength they gained. Frequently, songs switch gears midway, and then again, and yet manage to reprise the least-interesting elements of monotony; the cool parts not given time to command the space they deserve (“Hole,” “Free,” “Sin,” “Puke”). The worst case is “Free,” which could have Amenra-esque levels of bite and solemnity, if the mid-tier galloping sludge didn’t smother the harrowing howls, and the anticipatory build that interrupts it set the tone instead.

Doom of any kind, and sludge for that matter, is at heart designed to be uncomplicated, but its presence—whether through emotional depth or sheer magnitude—is what makes it powerful. Alternatively, maybe it can just make you feel good with some psychedelically lush soundscapes. Acidsloth has no presence beyond its literal noisiness, and there’s but a glimmer of color in the melodies. The near-inaudibility of the vocalists is made worse by the frequent use of reverb, and what is either multi-tracking or group shouts (their muddiness makes it hard to tell). The music isn’t “boring,” as such, it’s just draining to listen to, as all the best riffs, screams, and good use of rhythm and atmosphere are quite quickly ironed over with a return to the plod and a sheen of humming feedback. One thus ends up walking away with the unfair impression that there’s simply nothing going on in the entire record. Even in active listens, I struggled to cling to the positive vibes.

As a stoner doom album, maybe Acidsloth is standard fare, but I would like to think not. As a sludge album, it fares better, thanks to an emphasis on chunky—albeit mostly dull—riffing and the fact that at least some of the vocalists seem to have promise. Acidsloth are finding their feet as an ensemble, and if they can pool their assets, I think they could make something pretty juicy. Hopefully, they make the move faster than the animal they’re named for.

Rating: Disappointing
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Willowtip
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: June 20th, 2025

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