#sep25 — Public Fediverse posts

Stuck in the Filter: September 2025’s Angry Misses

By Kenstrosity

At last, a burst of cool calms the blood after a brutal summer, and the leaves are turning. Which means I was able to recruit a bunch of grubby little leaf-lookers off the highway to serve as minions to my ever-needy Filter! With a temporarily replenished staff of fools who are unwittingly risking their lives for mere nuggets, I conduct with renewed vigor the search for quality finds.

Today, I bring you those finds, in all of their sparkly glory. WITNESS THEM!

Kenstrosity’s Jaunty Juke

Jordsjuk // Naglet til livet [September 19th, 2025 – Indie Recordings]

The lack of conversation I’ve seen surrounding this Norwegian black metal riff machine is highly disconcerting. Brought to my attention by my wonderfully wise—and devilshly handsome—owlpal1 from… GASP… another blog, Jordsjuk’s debut LP Naglet til livet has my spine whipping to a fro from the onset of ripping opener “Kollaps.” The whiplash doesn’t stop there as thrashy numbers “Grovt skadeverk” and “Skreddersøm” body me against several walls and even a couple of ceilings. For 36 relentless minutes, with only one song pushing the four minute mark, Naglet til livet is an unqualified triumph of editing and tight, effective songwriting. My immediate comparison is 2007-2013 Skeletonwitch, but some of these riffs, like the turbobangers on “Parasitt,” “Rottebitt,” “Klarhet og dybde,” and “Rennestein,” give those hallowed skellybois a serious run for their money. When they aren’t thrashing, Jordsjuk shift into a dour, but still ravenous black metal shadow. Wraiths like “Riv skorpen av såret” and “Svikter din neste” showcase this looming character quite well, and prove Jordsjuk to be dynamic, versatile songwriters. In short, Naglet til livet is a raucous good time for anyone craving black metal with sharp teeth and limitless energy.

Baguette’s Bouncy Blessing

Arjen Anthony Lucassen // Songs No One Will Hear [September 12th, 2025 – Inside Out Music]

A year without an Arjen record would be a much lesser one. It’s not often the crazy Dutchman reuses a non-Ayreon project title, but here we have his fourth solo album becoming the second under the full Arjen Anthony Lucassen name! Dropping 13 years after the previous one, Songs No One Will Hear announces the end of the world is a mere five months away, its tracks depicting the resulting stages of chaos, disarray, and human silliness. It doesn’t fall far off the catchy and melodic Arjen tree but casts a wider net than prior prog rock adventures. Much of the record reflects different eras of Ayreon, including the ’70s prog whimsy of Into the Electric Castle (“Dr. Slumber’s Blue Bus”) and the fun ’80s metal edge of The Source (“Goddamn Conspiracy”). Closing epic “Our Final Song” is a microcosm of his musical breadth, shapeshifting from Jethro Tull flute shenanigans to analog synth ambience to dramatic riff bombast at will. But it’s “The Clock Ticks Down” that steals the spotlight, marking a brief return to the dark, somber grit of Guilt Machine and 01011001. It’s an unusually normal-sized album from Mr. Lucassen as well, the regular, unnarrated version being only 46 minutes and change. A condensed, jovial jack-of-all-trades showcase with many of the usual great guest musician and vocalist selections! And it’s always nice to hear him sing more, too.

Thus Spoke’s Lurid Leftovers

Fauna // Ochre and Ash [September 26th, 2025 – Lupus Lounge/Prophecy Productions]

It’s been 13 years since Cascadian black metal duo Fauna released Avifauna, to quiet yet great acclaim. Given their preoccupation with human prehistory, they might just be operating on a larger timescale than you or I. Ochre and Ash—the two main ingredients used in ancient cave paintings—is an attempt to invoke the spirit of forgotten ceremonies during which the stories of the people were immortalised on stone. Building on an atmospheric black metal base familiar in their better-known exemplars Wolves in the Throne Room and Agalloch, Fauna give Ochre and Ash a distinctive edge by roaming further afield into the experimental. For every metal-dominated track (“Nature & Madness,” “Labyrinths,” “Eternal Return”), there is an ambient, decidedly unsettling counterpart (“A Conjuring,” “Femoral Sun,” “Mockery”), and the latter are not interludes, but integral parts of the ritual. Each infuses skin-prickling drone with eerie chimes and rattles, and uncomfortable vocalisations ranging from moans and wails to laughter and the howling, yipping cries of animals—or humans mimicking them. In their repetition of haunting, hollow sounds, they are both frightening and trance-inducing. Ochre and Ash’s metallic segments are no less ominous, treading as they do between confrontationally turbulent atmoblack2 and diSEMBOWELMENT-adjacent death doom that puts me right back in the void of madness last year’s Spectral Voice generated. This is not a casual listen, and Fauna could have helped it a bit with some editing, as the weirdness combined with an excessive 70-minute runtime makes some longer passages feel tired and could be off-putting to some. Still, it’s an experience I’d recommend trying at least once.

Spicie Forrest’s Sautéed Surplus

Piece // Rambler’s Axe [September 5th, 2025 – This Charming Man Records]

Finding gym metal has always proven difficult for me. It’s not about the fastest or loudest, but about striking a balance between weight and pace. Rambler’s Axe fits the bill nicely. Influenced by the likes of Crowbar and High on Fire, these Berlin-based doomsters peddle raucous and sludgy heavy metal. There’s a bit of Conan in Piece’s DNA, too, making sure to worship each riff long enough for you to make it through any given set. Beefy basslines and aggressive, chiseled drums make it easy to drop into a groove and get your pump on. Faster cuts like “Demigod” and “Rambler’s Axe” go great with chest flies and leg press, but they’ve got tracks for bench press and deadlifts too. “Bastard Sword” and “Owl Eyes” rumble forward like the slow but inevitable rise of the barbell at max weight. Whether marching or running, baritone shouts like tank treads hang over riffs just looking for an excuse to blow off steam. Whatever your reason for visiting the glorious house of gains, Piece has your soundtrack covered.

Heruvim // Mercator [September 12th, 2025 – Self-Release]

As each passing year leaves the almighty Bolt Thrower further in the past, the yearning for that sound grows. I was quite surprised to find a small amount of solace in Heruvim, hailing from Odesa, Ukraine. I say small solace, because debut LP Mercator is more than just a clone. Augmented with the unsettling atmosphere of early Pestilence and the vocal malevolence of Sinister, this platter of old school death metal carves its own niche in a storied scene. Off-kilter leads bubble up and spew out of a murky, tarred rhythm section like prehistoric gases in a primordial soup (“Gnosis,” “Lacrimae Rerum”). Lachrymose, doom-laden passages and violent death threats trade back and forth, anchored by volatile blast beats and percussive assaults in the vein of Cannibal Corpse (“Nulla Res,” “Mercator”). Stitched together with eerie, short-and-sweet interludes, Mercator’s lean 30 minutes fly by and always leave me itching for more. Heruvim riffs on a slew of classic sounds, creating a casual brutality and primal barbarism that is both compelling and uniquely their own.

ClarkKent’s Melodic Monstrosities

Galundo Tenvulance // Insomnis Somnia [September 17th, 2025 – Spiritual Beast Records]

Falling somewhere between symphonic deathcore acts Assemble the Chariots and Grimnis enters Japan’s Galundo Tenvulance. On their second full-length LP, Insomnis Somnia, the sextet demonstrates raw power and frenetic energy throughout its 41-minute runtime. Songs are anchored by catchy melodic leads, atmospheric symphonies, and punishing, relentless kitwork (no drummer is credited, so hopefully it’s not programmed). Galundo Tenvulance’s new vocalist, Sao, delivers the goods, bringing a spirited energy to her performance that elevates the already terrific material. While the symphonics don’t quite elevate the music the same way they do for Assemble the Chariots, it’s the melodic riffs that make these guys stand out. “Noble Rot” is the highlight, with a killer lead riff that uses harmonics to add just that extra bit of oomph. Other highlights include the catchy “Regret Never Sleeps,” evoking Character-era Dark Tranquillity, and “In The Realms of the Unreal,” which demonstrates their ability to transform solos into surprising melodies. This might be too good to have landed in the filter, but with my TYMHM slots filled up, it’s better than nothing.

Mortal Scepter // Ethereal Dominance [September 9th, 2025 – Xtreem Music]

As if we didn’t have enough thrash floating in the filter, French outfit Mortal Scepter finds itself as yet another piece of thrash dredged from the muck. This quartet has been around since 2012, yet Ethereal Dominance is only their second full-length release. Their sound lands somewhere between the melodic thrash of Bloodletter and the mania of Deathhammer—though a touch less zany. The persistent level of energy these bands can maintain never ceases to amaze me. While the constant beat of drum blasts threatens to make thrash songs sound too similar, the variety of melodies Mortal Scepter delivers ensures that things never grow repetitive. They have a raw, blackened sound that feels immediate and in your face. Drummer Guillaume keeps an impressive pace with fresh-sounding, nonstop blast beats, while vocalist Lucas Scellier snarls with enthusiasm, with a voice comparable to Deathhammer’s Sergeant Salsten. However, it’s the guitars by Maxime and Scellier that really bring the band to life, from the noodly melodies to the dynamic, lengthy, and impressive solos on each song. These guys prove they are more than just simple thrash metallers on the epic thrash, ten-minute finale, “Into the Wolves Den,” which uses a mix of tempo shifts and hooky melodies to make the song just fly by. With this second LP under their belts, these guys have proven themselves an exciting newish band on the thrash scene.

Grin Reaper’s Woodland Windfall

Autrest // Burning Embers, Forgotten Wolves [September 5th, 2025 – Northern Silence Productions]

Burning Embers, Forgotten Wolves merges atmospheric black metal with nature, resuming Autrest’s vision from debut Follow the Cold Path. Like Saor or Falls of Rauros, stunning melodies play across untamed backdrops that stir heartstrings in unexpected ways. Ethereal keys, mournful strings, and rapid-fire tremolos impeccably capture Burning Embers, Forgotten Wolves’ autumnal artwork, bringing Autrest’s imagery to life. Harsh vocals sit back in the mix, evoking windswept trees as cool harvest gusts leach branches of color, while sporadic baritone cleans add variation. “Lobos (Offering)” sets the stage with melancholic guitar plucks bolstered by forlorn strings, giving way to a controlled spark as “Ashes from the Burning Embers” ratchets up roiling vigor. Through forty-two minutes, Autrest expertly guides listeners across shifting landscapes that are delightful in their earnestness. Mastermind Matheus Vidor establishes himself as a preeminent architect of mood, channeling transitions from gentle, wonder-filled serenity to unyielding wrath. The dynamic between aggression and introspection is marvelous, permeating the album with emotion. While I could understand a complaint that some songs blur together, the spirit of Burning Embers, Forgotten Wolves is never stale or disposable. Rather, Autrest has taken what began two years ago and enriched it, composing an ode to self-discovery and transformation.3 My own experience with the music conjures wilderness’s last hurrah before succumbing to winter’s embrace. As days grow shorter and temperatures drop,4 I encourage you to seek refuge and draw warmth from these Burning Embers.

Dolphin Whisperer’s Very Not Late Novella

Sterveling // Sterveling [September 26th, 2025 – Self Release]

Between the world of atmospheric and post-tinged black metal, there exists a twisted form of progressive music that teeters about brooding moods and crackling tones to explore shrieking sadness and profound sorrow. Michiel van der Werff (Prospectors, Weltschmerz), primary Dutch proprietor of Sterveling, places his expressive guitar runs and lurching rhythm clangs in the company of trusted friends to carry out his tortured, baroque vision of black metal. Against the hissing design of synth maestro and Prospectors bandmate Matthias Ruijgrok, a fullness and warping warmth pervades the spacious amp textures and muscular rhythmic framework of each piece. And through the bloodied cries of Weltschmerz bandmate Hreim, a vocal lightning flashes to illuminate the nooks between pulsing synth lines and deathly bursts of full tremolo assault. In three longform pieces, all still totaling a generous forty-two minutes, Sterveling tints a monochrome narrative with vibrant shades from thoughtful tones and well-timed, emotional escalations. Committed to each careful iteration on a melody, the woven Sterveling web grows ever stickier with every passing moment, none of the ten-minute-plus excursions ever feeling even close to their declared runtimes. And with a sound construction that hits delicate yet forceful, creaking yet incising, it’s easy to wander through several journeys on this debut outing before realizing what time has passed. Fans of equally forlorn acts like Tongues or Andalvald will feel more at home here than others. But with a tonal palette that’s as inviting as it is crushing, Sterveling should attract the ears of fans across the extreme spectrum.

#2025 #agalloch #americanMetal #andavald #arjenAnthonyLucassen #assembleTheChariots #atmosphericBlackMetal #autrest #ayreon #blackMetal #bloodletter #boltThrower #brazillianMetal #burningEmbersForgottenWolves #cannibalCorpse #conan #crowbar #darkTranquillity #deathDoom #deathMetal #deathcore #deathhammer #disembowelment #doomMetal #dutchMetal #etherealDominance #fallsOfRauros #fauna #frenchMetal #galundoTenvulance #grimnis #guiltMachine #heruvim #highOnFire #independentRelease #indieRecordings #insideoutMusic #insomnisSomnia #japaneseMetal #jethroTull #jordsjuk #lupusLounge #melodicBlackMetal #melodicDeathMetal #melodicThrashMetal #mercator #mortalScepter #nagletTilLivet #northernSilenceProductions #norwegianMetal #ochreAndAsh #pestilence #piece #postBlackMetal #progressiveBlackMetal #progressiveMetal #progressiveRock #prophecyProductions #ramblersAxe #review #reviews #saor #selfRelease #selfReleased #sep25 #sinister #skeletonwitch #sludge #sludgeMetal #songsNoOneWillHear #spectralVoice #sterveling #stuckInTheFilter #stuckInTheFilter2025 #symphonicDeathcore #thisCharmingManRecords #thrashMetal #tongues #ukrainianMetal #wolvesInTheThroneRoom

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

Mrs. Frighthouse – Solitude Over Control Review

By Dear Hollow

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mrs. Frighthouse – Solitude Over Control Review

By Dear Hollow

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mrs. Frighthouse – Solitude Over Control Review

By Dear Hollow

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mrs. Frighthouse – Solitude Over Control Review

By Dear Hollow

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mrs. Frighthouse – Solitude Over Control Review

By Dear Hollow

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ravager – From Us with Hate Review

By Lavender Larcenist

What can one reasonably say that hasn’t already been proclaimed in the halls of AMG over and over again about throwback thrash bands? In a genre that continues to pump out music for over forty years, breaking the mold is like chiseling out of your prison cell with a spoon. Doable? Maybe. But true escape is improbable. Germany’s Ravager peddles in the same stylistic trappings that you have seen a million times before from bands like Havok, Lich King, Warbringer, Gamma Bomb, and so, so many others before them. While many of these throwback acts ended up evolving their sounds and peeling themselves free of the mozzarella mosh of pizza thrash, will Ravager do the same on their fourth LP, From Us with Hate? Or, is it doomed to rest alongside the proverbial pineapple topping, as loathed as it is loved?

How does one even begin to talk about a band like Ravager without reaching for the same old cliches? You have heard all this music before; nothing here will surprise you, especially if you enjoy fast-paced, no-frills thrash with mostly generic lyrics about fighting the system, living hard, and loving metal. During my review, I decided to spin From Us with Hate while playing some rounds of Helldivers 2 (the title of a popular co-op video game for you olde folks). Ravager’s style of no-holds-barred violence, combined with its oddly uplifting lyrical themes, made it a perfect match for the on-screen chaos. But really, this would work for almost any high-octane experience; driving fast, working out, sitting on your ass shooting aliens in a video game, you name it. I couldn’t help but crack a smile as the cheesy yet earnest lyrics of “Alone We Won’t Survive” matched up perfectly with the actions in the game, as I rescued a hapless rookie player from the jaws of death. The best thing I can say is From Us with Hate makes for a decent soundtrack when mowing down alien bugs in a sci-fi fascist hellscape.

Ravager plays to all the thrash tropes. The opening track, “Freaks Out of Control,” starts like many genre staples before it: a slow kick drum lead with a little high hat that rolls into a rollicking riff. In fairness, each band member fills their respective role well, and Marcel Lehr and Dario Rosenberg’s dual guitar assault is a highlight. From Us With Hate is full of tight riffs and ripping speed. “Aggressive Music for Aggressive People,” the title track, and “Legends of the Lightning” are all fun, easy-to-digest thrash staples that get the blood going even if they don’t break the mold. Vocalist Phillip Herbst sounds dangerously close to Lich King’s Tom Martin, and it seems like he might crack at any given time. The vocals sound strained throughout, and rarely change things up outside of a few inspired moments and catchy choruses, such as on “Curse the Living, Hail the Dead” and “Defender.” While Ravager plays with that “barely keeping this thing on the tracks” energy that epitomizes great thrash, it misses elsewhere. It is clear they have more than enough heart, but the songwriting doesn’t quite match it.

Thankfully, the band’s latest is competently played and features tight production (although the bass is occasionally lost in frustrating ways). Album closer “Defender” is stuffed with tight riffing from Lehr and Rosenberg as well as some standout lead work and multiple blistering tag-team solos from the guitar duo. Herbst never breaks the mold, but competently trucks alongside the bouncing groove of the tracks. Vocals remain the weakest element overall, and the album’s closing cover of Exodus’s “Bonded by Blood” highlights this with Herbst’s voice sounding as if it is going to crack at any point in the song, especially in the chorus.

I appreciate a band that knows their whole schtick is a little silly without making themselves the butt of the joke. Every Ravager album cover is adorned with its goofy snake man, as buff as post-crisis Batman, and clad in ripped jeans and sneakers, but the music itself never becomes too silly. From Us With Hate is the record you’ve heard many times before, and tolerance may vary as a result. If you love throwback thrash bands and eat up anything in the genre, Ravager will keep you sated like a familiar piece of pepperoni pizza at your local shop. If, like me, you are over this style of played-out retro worship, From Us with Hate is just empty calories.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Iron Shield Records
Websites: ravager.bandcamp.com | ravager-thrash.de | facebook.com/ravagerthrash
Releases Worldwide: September 19th, 2025

#25 #2025 #GammaBomb #GermanMetal #Havok #IronShieldRecords #LichKing #Ravager #Review #Reviews #romUsWithHateReview #Sep25 #ThrashMetal #Warbringer

Record(s) o’ the Month – September 2025

By Angry Metal Guy

I am sick. Things are bleak. It is October. There is pumpkin spice in everything. And now you come to me and you say, “AMG, give me the Record(s) o’ the Month.” But you don’t ask with respect. You don’t offer friendship. You don’t even think to call me Dr. Metal Guy or compliment my excellent taste. Instead, you come into my house on the day my daughter is to be married, and you ask me to give you the Record(s) o’ the Month—for free.

What have I ever done to make you treat me so disrespectfully? If you’d come to me in friendship, then this music that will ruin your eardrums and cause your grandchildren to yell while they try to communicate with you would already have been yours. And, if, by chance, honest people like yourselves made enemies, they would become my enemies—and they would fear you.

Someday, and that day may never come, I will call upon you to do a service for me. But until that day, accept this Record(s) o’ the Month as a gift on my daughter’s wedding day.1

One of metal’s true titans, Paradise Lost has been at this for 40 years and 17 albums. A band with eras, Paradise Lost’s tenure has not been without its ebbs. Yet Ascension [out September 19th, 2025, from Nuclear Blast Records (buy on Bandcamp)] offers fans something old and new again, and truly lifts the band’s modern sound through synthesis. Rather than simply rehashing the classics, Ascension assembles the different pieces of the band’s legacies into something powerful, catchy, and—as counterintuitive as it seems—novel. It would be wrong to say that Paradise Lost has “never sounded so vital,” but they haven’t previously presented such a simultaneously diverse and powerful vision of their sound. Both Steel Druhm and Grymm were blown away by Ascension’s ability to balance the different veins of their sound and feel united and unique. What Druhm gushed is true: “It’s rare a band as long in the tooth as Paradise Lost uncorks a late career album that can stand among the giants in their catalogue, but Ascension is one such slippery aberration.”2 And Grymmothy concurs: “Who would have thought,” he wondered aloud after crooning in amazement at this accomplishment of metal, “that by reaching into their vault of classic albums, they would not only put together something fresh and timeless, but also make a strong case for one of their best ever?”

Hegel, that’s who.

Runner(s) Up:

Vittra // Intense Indifference [September 19th, 2025 | Self-release | Bandcamp] — Melodic death metal might be gasping for air in 2025, but Sweden’s Vittra just kicked the respirator across the room and screamed “MOTHERFUCKER LET’S GO!” Intense Indifference clocks in at a tight 33 minutes of thrashy, riff-driven melodeath that remembers the genre was born to move heads, not cry into beards.3 With the manic energy of a band stuck in rural Västmanland and the chops to back it up, Vittra threads the needle between At the Gates’ aggression, Soilwork’s slickness, and the fretboard fireworks of Mors Principium Est. Yet somehow, these weirdos slip in honkytonk piano, bluesy acoustic passages, and enough BDE to make your mom blush. As I papified Pure Divine Doctrine and a Universal Truth for which all dissenters and deviants shall be roundly punished: “Vittra reminds us that melodic death metal still slaps when it remembers to be metal. Intense Indifference might be short, but it’s sharp, hooky, and very, very good.”4 Short album, long replay life.

Igorrr // Amen [September 19th, 2025 | Metal Blade Records | Bandcamp] — For nearly twenty years, Gautier Serre has been metal’s reigning mad scientist, blending breakcore, baroque, and blastbeats into something that shouldn’t work but absolutely does. Amen refines the chaos without sanding off the edges, finding full-band-Igorrr firing on every cylinder. Dear Hollow probably crossed someone’s personal boundaries while calling it “a reaffirmation of Serre’s genius/insanity,” but even if he’s sitting too close, that’s the right take. Amen balances absurdity, heaviness, and sophistication with freakish precision. From the orchestral depth to the cartoonish detours of “Mustard Mucous” and “Blastbeat Falafel,” it’s dense, manic, and meticulously constructed. There’s no other band that can make so much noise feel this purposeful or fun. Returning to Dear Hollow’s (only?) vaguely inappropriate public tongue-bathing of Igorrr,5 let’s round this off: “Amen is a reaffirmation of Igorrr’s batshit and fun-loving genius, as well as a new step forward: haunting, brutal, and otherworldly in a way that we can take seriously.”

Mors Principium Est // Darkness Invisible [September 26th, 2025 | Perception/Reigning Phoenix Music | No Bandcamp because labels hate their fans] — Eight albums deep and still shredding like they’ve got something to prove, Mors Principium Est returns with Darkness Invisible, a darker, heavier, and more cinematic take on Finnish melodeath. With founding guitarists Jori Haukio and Jarkko Kokko back in the fold, the band taps into its early DNA while pushing toward symphonic density and blackened aggression. In my factual recitation of truths about the world, I referred to Darkness Invisible as “a record that sounds darker and denser than the glossy sheen of Seven,” and incidentally, I’m right; this is ambitious melodeath with a subtly addictive feel, even though the mix sometimes threatens to collapse under its own weight, and Darkness Invisible is a bold reset for Mors Principium Est. I wasn’t going to include this here, but the more I listen to it, the more I like it.6 And more importantly, the more I spin it, the better I think it is. While it does struggle with production, its Bodomesque guitarwork and orchestral ambitions make it sneakily addictive.

#2025 #Amen #Ascension #BlogPost #BlogPosts #Blogpost #DarknessInvisible #Igorrr #IntenseIndifference #MetalBladeRecords #MorsPrincipiumEst #NuclearBlast #ParadiseLost #Perception #RecordOTheMonth #RecordSOTheMonth #ReigningPhoenixMusic #Sep25 #Vittra

Lightchapter – Where All Hope Begins Review

By ClarkKent

Death metal generally dabbles in the dark, the grisly, the violent, and the brutal. With the aid of ’80s-style synths, Lightchapter plays a version with a lighter, more hopeful touch. The aptly-named Where All Hope Begins marks album number two for this quartet out of Denmark. The band’s mission is to merge “despair and hope” and also “pain and joy” through not only their sound but their lyrics. Even on a blog that celebrates the angry and still makes fun of the brief Happy Metal Guy stint, I imagine something that infuses joy and lightness would find a welcoming audience. After all, Countless Skies showed how a band could successfully write an uplifting progressive death metal record, and that one was well-liked around these parts. Do we dare get our hopes up for Lightchapter?

While synth is a core part of their sound, this ain’t no dungeon synth. Lightchapter strikes a balance between old-school synth rock and more modern melodeath. Following an intro tune, “Leading the Way,” that evokes Stranger Things-style synths, “Where All Hope Begins” sets the album going on its marriage between industrial death metal acts like Orbit Culture and ’80s synth rock stalwarts like Depeche Mode. This isn’t a brutal version of death metal but a much softer approach. Guitars have more reverb than bite, cutting down on the heaviness, and the drums similarly don’t punch with the punishing heft of a Brodequin. The ’80s stuff also helps to soften the sound, with the synths providing a layer that lightens the already light guitar tone. Then there’s those familiar ’80s drum tones—the gated reverb and toms—that’ll warp you back to your carefree days listening to Duran Duran and the like. Lightchapter also features some deathcore breakdowns, though not obnoxiously (“The Unholy Mass,” “Revenge”). This blend of styles finds its most effective execution towards the end of Where All Hope Begins, particularly on the catchy “Little Death.”

Due to the lack of brutal guitars and thunderous blast beats, Where All Hope Begins turns out to be a rather chill album. This is true despite the harsh growls from Mikkel Ottosen. In fact, his vocals complement the instrumentals well. The combination of Anders Berg’s reverb guitar tone and melodic riffs and Tobias Høst’s restrained drumming makes this a surprisingly relaxing listening experience. It’s true that songs like “What I Have Become” start out fast and heavy, but the heart of the song is soft tones and chill tempos. The softer moments gave me whiffs of Slipknot’s ballads, but also the lighter tunes on Rivers of Nihil’s latest. Lightchapter doesn’t quite hit the soaring emotional highs that Andy Thomas often reached, but that’s all part of their mellow charm. The hopeful tone is a breath of fresh air in the usually dark world of death metal.

If anything lets Lightchapter down, it’s a lack of hooks. The melodic leads and synths aren’t particularly catchy for most songs, nor are the choruses all that memorable. Some exceptions show how much stronger Where All Hope Begins could have been. “Unholy Mass” features not only a great synth line, but a memorable chorus when Ottosen sings “Father, you have forsaken me.” The final three tracks unleash Lightchapter’s true potential. “Little Death” is the album highlight, utilizing a catchy riff and synth combo that emphasizes Lightchapter’s strengths. The best chorus belongs to “My Own Kind,” which is the only song that comes close to reaching those Andy Thomas-level highs, thanks to the guitar tone. Combine the hooks of the one with the cathartic emotional highs of the other, and these guys could have something great on their hands. The finished product is an enjoyable record that doesn’t quite stick—but it shows how Lightchapter can get to that point next time.

Unfortunately, Lightchapter is releasing Where All Hope Begins at the end of a hectic release month, and on perhaps the biggest release day, where it’s competing for attention with Amorphis, Mors Principium Est, and Revocation. If you’re feeling a bit overwhelmed and burned out from all of the must-listens this month, a spin or two of Where All Hope Begins could help ground you. Sometimes an album like this that tries something a little different without going off the rails is just what you need to settle your frayed nerves. Lightchapter has crafted an album that shows promise for this young band. If anything, it’ll at least give you some measure of hope.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 10 | Format Reviewed: ~175 kbps VBR mp3
Label: Self-Released
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Site
Releases Worldwide: September 26th, 2025

#2025 #30 #Amorphis #Brodequin #CountlessSkies #DanishMetal #DepecheMode #DuranDuran #ElectroDeathMetal #IndustrialMetal #Lightchapter #MelodicDeathMetal #Metalcore #MorsPrinicipumEst #OrbitCulture #Review #Reviews #Revocation #RiversOfNihil #selfRelea #SelfReleased #Sep25 #Slipknot #SynthMetal #WhereAllHopeBegins

we.own.the.sky – In Your Absence Review

By GardensTale

Though not all post-metal is instrumental, almost all instrumental metal bands play some variation of post-metal. One could write a riveting dissertation exploring the reasons behind this phenomenon and its implications, if one were inclined towards musical studies and history; alas, I am but a humble observer of such odd patterns and have no definitive answers. Perhaps it is part of how heavily defined by vocals many genres are; perhaps the textured and buildup-heavy nature of post-metal simply lends itself well to instrumental approaches. Greek 5-piece we.own.the.sky makes no effort to break the pattern on its third album In Your Absence, but as a fan of the style, I have no complaint. But it can be a devilishly tricksome affair to eschew vocals altogether without getting stale. How do the sky-owners fare?

As annoyingly hip the stylization of the band name is, so expertly crafted is In Your Absence. No two songs are interchangeable, and rarely does any track feel particularly overlong. Refreshingly for instrumental post-metal, we.own.the.sky does not often lean on languid melancholy. Most tracks have energy and momentum, emerging through the darker, djent-adjacent notes of opener “The Urge to Prey,” the effervescent bliss of “Everbreathing” and the feverish, drum-heavy “Eclipse.” The structures hew further from the expansive and exploratory, aligning closer to traditional verse-chorus setups, and it makes for an immediate, accessible album like few in this style can manage.

This is clearly a deliberate choice. Even longer tracks like “Swarm” and “Liminal Space” stay well under 8 minutes and use their extra time in buildups that return to established phrases and intelligent variations on the rich stock of melodies the guitars provide. “Swarm” is an especially powerful song, its gentle opening notes morphing into a grand ascending beast, the melody carried upon a shifting syncopated foundation. It’s a one-two punch with the sweeping joy of “Everbreathing,” whose bright tremolos remind me of the most recent Alcest. Closer “Silhouette” shares that similarity, and it’s the sole track that does contain vocals, which provides a warm well of emotional contrast and provides rich wonder as the album’s denouement.

The biggest bump in the road is “Fragile, Alive,” a slow and gentle track that skates dangerously close to saccharine soft rock. It’s smack dab in the middle of In Your Absence and is a hard stop for all the momentum built by “Swarm” and “Everbreathing”. The melody is fairly repetitive and a bit mawkish, and the track doesn’t move away from it until the midway point. It’s not outright bad, especially when it opens up and gains more heft, but it is the album’s Achilles’ heel, worsened by its central placement in the track list. Thankfully, the hard-hitting follow-up “Eclipse” is an immediate pick-me-up, and we.own.the.sky return to form within seconds. Dressed with a delicious guitar tone and even-keeled mix, the production1 puts the cherry on the cake. It matches the compositions for an enticing, immediate sound that’s as listenable as it is versatile.

With In Your Absence, we.own.the.sky place yet another nail in the coffin of the idea that quality and fame go hand in hand. In fact, the band kicks over every assumption that crosses their path. Greek metal is known for grandeur and symphonies, yet In Your Absence is concise and introspective. Post-metal tends toward texture-heavy dreaminess, yet this is melody-driven and direct. With a decade and a half behind them and In Your Absence, their third album, under their wing, we.own.the.sky have proven themselves more than capable of producing music that’s beautiful, transporting, and downright addictive. The world’s been sleeping on this band. Don’t miss out.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: PCM
Label: Dunk!Records
Websites: weownthesky.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/weowntheskygr
Releases Worldwide: September 19th, 2025

#2025 #35 #Alcest #DunkRecords #GreekMetal #InYourAbsence #PostMetal #Review #Reviews #Sep25 #weOwnTheSky

Crippling Alcoholism – Camgirl Review

By Tyme

‘Murderpop,’ though freshly minted, is an apt genre tag for the kind of music Crippling Alcoholism have been playing since 2022. Their sophomore effort, With Love From a Padded Room, got stuck in Dolphin Whisperer’s February Filter in 2024, where our resident porpoise spouted positively about its attributes, and drew me into Crippling’s lugubrious world. Upon learning another album was coming just a year and some change later, however, I feared diminished returns. Still, I seized the opportunity to cover third effort Camgirl, which tells the tragically sordid tale of online performer ‘Bella Pink,’ unfolding not only through her eyes, but of ‘those who consume her: lovers, relatives, business partners, stalkers.’1 I wondered what awful surprises Crippling Alcoholism had in store, my anticipation palpable for the return of Boston’s ‘cabaret of gloomerism.’2

Freed from the shadows of With Love’s padded cells, Camgirl’s milieu is no less engaging, ushering us from the asylum to the sweat-soaked euphoria and flashy lights of the night club. A mix of Joy Division-style punk pop and New Order-tinged dark-wave electronica (“LADIE’S NIGHT”), Crippling Alcoholism still manage to keep their crazy intact, at times channeling Mamaleek (“Pretty in Pink”) as well as Swans (“Pliers”). While Jonathan’s ebullient, saccharine-sweet synths and spacy atmospherics drive most of Camgirl’s melodies, it’s Peter’s bass, Stefan’s and newcomer Alyce’s guitar work, and Danny Sher’s drums that serve as the gothically grimy counterpoint. From spattered money shots of techno-erratic beats (“Pay Pigs”) to full-on drum-addled grindcore cacophony, replete with Alyce’s black metal screams (“CAMGIRL”), Crippling Alcoholism encases Camgirl in a shiny pink, glitz-shimmering wrapper that hides rotten candy, exposing the darkly fetid, degenerate underbelly of sex sold in the digital age.

As crucial to Crippling Alcoholism as any synth chord, guitar lick, or drum beat are the lyrics and vocals. Ever-present and immediately recognizable is the broodingly dulcet, Tom Waits meets Peter Steele baritone of Tony Castrati, who joins Alyce and a cast of guest vocalists—Juliet Gordon (Luxury Skin), Meredith Haines (Latter), and Aki McCullough (Ameokama)—to bring Bella’s Camgirl story to life. Catchy verses and hook-filled choruses abound, as Castrati sings on “Saran Wrapped Cash,” the words of Bella’s heartbroken father, ‘Should I kill myself? Well, funny you should ask,’ before admitting ‘I can’t see through your eyes cause mine are filled with hate,’ the song ending with Bella reminiscing about childhood, a Dark Rooms-esque diatribe of Alyce’s spoken word over airy synths. Other highlights include the super catchy “bedrot,” as I imagine a basement-dwelling Bella fan, drooling hungrily in the glow of his sex-filled laptop, poppily sings the chorus, ‘A monster, I’m a monster, Baby I’m a god damn monster,’ before screaming ‘I fucking hate the way I look, Yeah, I look like a fat fucking scumbag,’ in a heart-wrenching pique of self-loathing. Then the cinematic end credits style of album closer “despair,” as Meredith Haines embodies a used and abused Bella who has given in to her own hate and in true Lingua Ignota fashion screams at the world of degenerate consumerism that’s broken her, ‘You’ve always been nothing, A big vacuous nothing, I’ll squat down and I’ll piss in your fucking wounds!’ Camgirl is cinematically sexy, brash, and bristling with an in-your-face aggression, a soundtrack worthy of the smuttiest subject-specific script Tarantino could pen.

With a runtime pushing just over sixty-four minutes, Camgirl’s fishnet-clad gams are giantessic but void of severable length. Crippling Alcoholism cram necessary meaning into every second as the strength of the story and great songwriting carry the day, while Eric Sauter’s mix and Derek Blackburn’s master perfectly capture the dark and light dichotomy of Bella’s downward spiral. My one cavil with Camgirl falls, too, however, at the feet of the mix and master, as there are moments throughout where Castrati’s vocals, in particular, get washed out, most noticeably amidst the lows of “screentime”‘s piano melancholy and the highs of “TARAVISTA”‘s synthetic ecstasy.

Crippling Alcoholism fearlessly spit in the face of convention and expectation, reinventing themselves without betraying their power, which on Camgirl is the manufacture of feigned happiness. I love this iteration of the band, Alyce’s addition lending an even sharper metallic edge to what was already a whetted sword. Without much time to stew, Crippling Alcoholism have emerged with another darkened slice of excellence, deepening my fandom and increasing my excitement for what comes next.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: N/A | Format Reviewed: Stream
Label: Portrayal of Guilt
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: September 12th, 2025

#2025 #40 #American #Camgirl #CripplingAlcoholism #DarkRooms #GothRock #JoyDivision #Mamaleek #Murderpop #NewOrder #PortrayalOfGuilt #Review #Sep25 #Swans #Synthwave

Mors Principium Est – Darkness Invisible Review

By Angry Metal Guy

Mors Principium Est should, for longtime fans of Angry Metal Guy, need no introduction. Since 2003, these Finns have released eight full-length albums of top-notch melodic death metal. However, they really took flight in 2012 with …and Death Said Live!, which coincidentally is a year after Andy Gillion joined the band. Between 2011 and 2021, Mors produced melodic death metal that drew heavily on a strong Gothenburg vibe; guitar-forward, slick as fuck, and fun to listen to. Gillion was fired, however, in 2021. That was followed by the band releasing an album of re-recorded songs called Liberate the Unborn Inhumanity, which fans largely considered a half-measure. Darkness Invisible, then, marks the first truly new material since Seven. And I’ve been dying to know how this revamped Mors Principium Est would navigate the changes on album number nine.

Darkness Invisible presents a recognizable core sound that longtime fans will connect with, but its character reflects the shift in the lineup. With Ville Viljanen’s scathing roar still at the helm, the return of Jori Haukio and Jarkko Kokko on guitars reintroduces the early 2000s songwriting DNA, while bassist Teemu Heinola and (new guy) Marko Tommila give the rhythm section both drive and dynamic weight. Together, they summon a melodeath that is at once cinematic, technical, and blackened—evoking countrymen Children of Bodom or Kalmah. The themes that emerge are darker than before: a push toward massive symphonic density that occasionally brushes against Septic Flesh’s deathly grandeur, the arrival of deeper guttural vocals that tilt passages toward brutal death, and flashes of blackened riffing that lend a sharp edge. These elements intermingle across the album, creating a record that is both familiar and ambitious.

Much of Darkness Invisible’s character comes from its dark dynamics and cinematic presentation. The compositions weaponize contrast in vocals and atmosphere, making for a dynamic and entertaining record. Viljanen’s familiar bark remains the anchor of MPE’s sound, but the band now folds in cavernous gutturals that push closer to death metal extremity (“Summoning the Dark”), even contrasting these with operatic cleans and producing a clash of brutality and grandeur (“All Life Is Evil”). Additionally, there’s a frost that creeps into the riffs and drumming, with trem-picked riffs and blastbeats sharpening the band’s melodeath foundation toward something blackened and sinister (see: the chorus of “Venator,” or the end of “The Rivers of Avernus”). And even the more straightforward cuts employ these textures to broaden their weight, layering symphonic swells and bleak grandeur over increasingly technical riffing. The result is a record that sounds darker and denser than the glossy sheen of Seven. This expansion lends ambition and menace, though the density of choirs, gutturals, and orchestrations sometimes threatens to swamp the guitars that were the core of Mors’ sound.

For all its ambition, Darkness Invisible’s major drawback is that it’s undermined by an Industry Standard Production Job™ courtesy of Jens Bogren (mixing) and Tony Lindgren (mastering). Bogren has made dense orchestral metal soar before—think how cleanly he’s wrangled maximalist arrangements for acts like Fleshgod Apocalypse and Turisas—which makes this result unusual. The record is mastered loud and layered thick; climaxes hit hard,1 but the constant stacking of choirs, vocals, multiple guitar tracks, drums, and orchestration often clutters the field and can bury the guitars that most recently defined Mors Principium Est. On a proper stereo, the album sounds big and sinister—fully loaded with dynamics, pomp, and grandeur—but on earbuds and smaller setups, it can collapse into a busy blur. It’s been a long time since I popped in a new release and found it simply too crowded for casual listening—and it ends up being fatiguing to the ear at times. That busyness contributes to the album’s oppressive mood, but it also blunts individual performances. In reaching for monumental scale, the mix trades away clarity, leaving the listener torn between admiration for scope and frustration at execution.

Darkness Invisible has convinced me that this lineup can carry Mors Principium Est forward. The shift in sound works: the band leans harder into Children of Bodom and Dark Tranquillity on the melodic side, showing off fantastic guitar work while embracing a more cinematic and melodramatic identity. Without the bonus track, the album lands at a vinyl-friendly 46 minutes, and its structural pacing—variations in tempo, atmosphere, and density—make it a fun and dynamic listen despite the crowded mix. Darkness Invisible doesn’t bear much resemblance to the Gillion era, but that’s not necessarily a weakness.2 This darker and more melodramatic Mors Principium Est feels fresh, and tracks like “All Life Is Evil” and “The Rivers of Avernus” prove the style’s promise. So, I entered this review with concerns about what a Gillion-less Mors Principium Est would sound like, and I’m leaving it impressed and excited for what’s to come. I would call that a great success.

Rating: Very Good!
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s CBR MP3
Label: Perception [Reigning Phoenix Music]
Websites: Facebook | Instagram
Out Worldwide: September 26th, 2025

#AndDeathSaidLive #2025 #35 #AndyGillion #ChildrenOfBodom #DarkTranquillity #DarknessInvisible #FinnishMetal #FleshgodApocalypse #JensBogren #Kalmah #MelodicDeathMetal #MorsPrincipiumEst #OrchestralMetal #Review #Reviews #Sep25 #SepticFlesh #Seven #TonyLindgren #Turisas

Last Retch – Abject Cruelty Review

By Alekhines Gun

Despite the core ingredient being completely the same, not all steaks are created equal. Marbleization, marination, seasonings, sauces, garnishes, lobster tail, and the right type of whiskey to chase it down are all equally important considerations in preparation for the final product, despite the cynics’ argument that you’re dealing with the same slab of beef. So too with death metal. Hailing from Canada, Last Retch are our chophouse today, offering up their second LP Abject Cruelty to appease your palate for all things medium rare, and if you’re one of those cynics who think death metal all tastes the same because of its ingredient base, you can get back to whatever soup-slinging hellhole you came from. Abject Cruelty is here to eradicate and destroy with extreme prejudice, and make sure you lick the plate completely clean by the time you’re finished.

As all good steaks should, Abject Cruelty sounds fatty and thick. Drummer Spencer Robson has his double bass rolls placed flawlessly in the mix, adding car-window rattling depth of sound to machine gun riffs (“Resinous Drip of Decay”,) while guitarists John Russell and Derek Brzozowski ride a fat tone which straddles the line between HM-2 and the more filthy production of Gutless. Vocalist Finlay Blakelock has a vicious croak reminiscent of a more revitalized John McEntee (Incantation) in its depth. These well-worn ingredients come together in a total package of high-grade death, where the riff is king and the sauce is boss tone stands supreme, resulting in an engaging listen which flows from high bpm assaults to brief respites of mid-paced atmospherics. The release sounds surprisingly organic given its low DR, and its truncated runtime allows it to entertain before ear fatigue sets in.

As for the meal on offer, what awaits is a generous offering of Bolt Thrower with garnishes via a smorgasbord of dalliances with other stylings. “Beasley Meth Merchants” rocks pit-igniting rapid chugs and simple but effective drum rhythms in the spirit of classic Vader, while “Resinous Drip of Decay” flirts with Incantation atmosphere. Nods to bands as divergent as Carcass and Demilich (“Disolved in Lye”) transition into moments that recall the chuggiest thuggiest moments of Skinless (appropriate given the heavy amount of samples) while working solos which are used more as moody set-pieces than opportunities for fretboard heroics. Last Retch have concocted an album that calls to the leaders of old and does their best to fill the footsteps of such giants.

Naturally, such a tall order has its stumbling blocks, though there’s hardly anything sabotaging the album as a whole. The samples do a good job breaking up the carnage, but some have obnoxious vocal filters, which makes them grate more than enhance the music, with “Dissecting the Leper” being the worst offender.1 The strength of Abject Cruelty is more in its composition than the technicality of its performances. Title track “Abject Cruelty” sports one of my favorite riffs I’ve heard in years as a centerpiece for the song, but the half-time verses can’t quite keep up the menace in the delivery. This isn’t to imply the band are poor in their instruments by any means, but they clearly have a vision for grand and epic death which is grazed more often than it’s grasped. They have the mood and the individual riffs down to a science, but a push to challenge themselves a bit in the technicality will give the full product the shot in the arm it needs to be in contention for the modern-day death giants of the world.

Nevertheless, the majority of Abject Cruelty is a good take on what I want out of the slightly crustier side of modern death metal. It’s succinct, every song has at least one riff worthy of living room moshing, the production is fat, and the tone violent. Last Retch is a good band, and this album is a good album with some moments of genuine greatness. During my listens, I found myself many times thinking “this would probably sound fantastic in a live setting,” and for music as cathartic and energetic as this, that is an important impression. If you’re on the quest to eradicate the kindness in your life and have a good time doing it, there’s plenty of cruelty to go around waiting for you here…

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Time to Kill Records
Website: Album Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: September 26th, 2025

#2025 #30 #AbjectCruelty #BoltThrower #CanadianMetal #Carcass #DeathMetal #Demilich #Gutless #Incantation #LastRetch #Review #Reviews #Sep25 #Skinless #TimeToKillRecords #Vader

Feanor – Hellhammer Review

By Samguineous Maximus

Within the sprawling cosmos of heavy metal, there are those who shy away from “cheese.” The self-serious arbiters of credibility who cannot fathom the spectacle of a Jørnlike figure, clad in frills, golden mane cascading, arms outstretched as soliloquies of passion pour forth in gloriously ESL-stained accents. Yet for those of us who have dared sail the seas of cheese, who have cast aside the brittle armor of irony, such bombast is not an embarrassment but a revelation, a childlike ecstasy born from grown men shrieking about dragons or Tolkien over galloping power chords as though their lives depended on it. It is precisely for this rapturous abandon, this embrace of the sublime absurd, that we turn to a band like Feanor. These Argentinians have been cultivating their own brand of curd since the ‘90s, and across 5 albums, have basked in the glorious light of Teutonic heavy metal. Their last album, Power of the Chosen One, fermented for perhaps just a tad too long. Still, with some lineup changes, a new label, and an impressive cast of guest musicians, Hellhammer seems poised to deliver them into the gilded halls of heavy metal greatness. Will Feanor at last unveil a wheel aged with patience and depth, or will these hapless cheesemongers find themselves choking on the very aroma they hoped would entice?

The most immediate difference between Hellhammer and Feanor’s previous efforts is the sheer Euro-chad aura emanating from new vocalist Micke Stark. This is a man forged in the fjords, his Swedish accent as thick as a tankard of mead, his tenor piercing the heavens like Odin’s own warhorn. Stark doesn’t just sing; he commands the ship, steering us through Feanor’s cocktail of Manowar’s loincloth bravado, Running Wild’s salt-crusted bombast, and enough ‘90s power metal clichés to fill a longship. He makes even Thomas Winkler sound reserved, and every syllable he chews becomes a weapon in the band’s arsenal. Whether belting absurd tales of brotherly love (“The Epic of Gilgamesh Pt2 (The Quest For Immortality)”), forbidden Elvish/human romance (“The Ballad of Beren and Luthien”) or vague Scandinavian mythology (“Flight of the Valkyries”), Stark sells every line with enough charm where you can almost feel the pyrotechnics. Nowhere is the ESL charm more apparent, though, than “H.M.J,” a folk metal-flavored ripper about miscellaneous pirate stuff, where in between shredtastic solos and cannonball sound effects synched to gang vocals of “Fire! Guns! Cannons!,” its chorus boldly intones: “Heavy metal Jesus, heavy metal is the law” before ending with a tongue-in-cheek reference to “Stay forever Running Wild.” Stark elevates ridiculous moments like this to memorable highs that feel built for drunken sing-alongs at European festivals and almost make row pits seem like a good idea.

None of this vocal cheese would work without a proper boarding party, and Hellhammer boasts an impressive cast of scallywags for maximum HEAVY METAL POWER. 1 Axemen E.V. Martel and Thilio Hermann (appropriately ex-Manowar and ex-Running Wild, respectively) deliver exactly what one would expect of this style, nailing the distinct blend of galloping verse riffs, tasty lead melodies, and acrobatic solos. Their work is bolstered by newcomer Diana Boncheva on violin, injecting an orchestral feel to Feanor’s core sound by harmonizing with guitar lines, augmenting choruses, and rounding out ballads with some dynamic contrast. Of course, Hellhammer also features no fewer than 9 guest musicians, ranging from more ex-Manowar guitarists Ross the Boss and David Shankle, who throw even more lead guitar layers in the pot, to Piet Sielck of Iron Savior, embellishing arrangements with keyboards and choirs, to Camilla Star,k who delivers female vocals on several cuts. The added cast members lends the album an epic heft, like a band of grizzled adventurers converging for one last quest. When everything comes together, like on adrenaline-filled opener “Sirens of Death” or mid-tempo singalong “Remember the Fallen,” Feanor reach the majestic heights that only cheese this pungent can produce. Unfortunately, not every track is equally alluring.The problem is, Hellhammer just doesn’t know when to quit. At nearly 70 minutes, even the most heroic momentum falters. Feanor try to mix things up with interludes and slower songs, and while some work, they can’t prevent fatigue from setting in. With most tracks running 5–7 minutes, songs start to blur, and by the time track eight (“Maglor the Singer”) rolls around, the weight of the remaining 20+ minutes feels daunting. The album’s final stretch doesn’t help, ending with a ballad (“The Ballad of Beren and Luthien”) and a slower number (“This One’s for You”) that fizzle out instead of finishing strong. The length doesn’t erase the album’s brightest moments, but it does make front-to-back listens a heavy lift.

With Hellhammer, Feanor have produced an impressive collection of fist-pumping tunes that are destined to make seasoned cheese heads grin. Despite its intimidating size, I still find myself reaching for another serving of the band’s exquisite platter. The best songs here are going right into my cheese-maxing playlist alongside Dream Evil and ANGUS McSIX, destined to cheer me up on the darkest of days. This record isn’t perfect, but sometimes it’s nice to rock out alongside metal that’s so unabashedly fun. Even bloated and overstuffed, this album is a banquet worth raiding, a wheel of cheese worth gnawing until your stomach protests, a voyage you’ll happily set sail on again and again.

Rating: Good!
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: No Remorse Records
Websites: facebook.com/feanorband
Releases Worldwide: September 19th, 2025

Show 1 footnote

1. Belted in your best implacable Euro accent. ↩

#2025 #30 #AngusMcSix #ArgentinianMetal #DreamEvil #Feanor #GraveDigger #HeavyMetal #Hellhammer #IronSavior #Manowar #NoRemorseRecords #PowerMetal #Review #Reviews #RunningWild #Sep25 #Stormburner

Autumn Tears – Crown of the Clairvoyant Review

By Twelve

One of the interesting things about writing for a heavy metal blog is the quantity—and quality—of non-metal recommendations that show up. I’ve already gone out of my way to review many a (dark/neo) folk album that’s wandered through; the conscious decision to send these our way suggests there is something here for the metal fan. But an almost fully neo-classical album is, I think, a new one,1 and its mere presence was enough to intrigue me. Autumn Tears is an international act headed by lyricist, pianist, and composer Ted Tringo that has historically ventured through gothix, classical, and darkwave waters. Since 1996, the project has ventured through many forms, but Crown of the Clairvoyant promises something new for the Tringo’s tenth full-length: an ambitious, fully neoclassical journey featuring no fewer than forty-three musicians. Metal or no metal, how do you pass that up?

I mean, if you’re a heavy metal fan who likes heavy metal, I suppose you might pass it up—though Crown of the Clairvoyant shares a grandiose and somewhat mournful theme with gothic and symphonic metal, Autumn Tears are far from a heavy group. The aforementioned forty-three musicians include a fairly light strings section, a well-stacked horns group, some woodwinds, and a few standard miscellaneous instruments—harp, oud, and piano, for example—but nearly half of the listed musicians in Crown of the Clairvoyant’s extensive credits are singers, most of them part of the Autumn Tears choir. Indeed, choral vocals are dominant throughout Crown of the Clairvoyant, a nice counterbalance to the lead singing, which is typically female soprano. This all gives Crown of the Clairvoyant a strongly organic feel; its instrumentation feels like a deliberate step away from darkwave—though the influence is still felt—and towards something altogether fresher, cleaner, and lighter.

Unlike metal-inspired orchestral projects like Blind Guardian’s Twilight Orchestra, Autumn Tears do not reach for mighty crescendos; instead, they write songs that are more like movements, guiding the listener through moments that come about organically. “The Knell of my Birth-Hymn” opens with a flurry of cello before rising and swelling to joyful heights, choirs and singers layering atop each other, swept along by a beautiful string performance. There is no particular structure for the verses, nor chorus, nor interlude; the song simply goes where it needs to, and this is a recurring idea throughout Crown of the Clairvoyant. Not that there’s no repetition or structure; most songs work within a particular theme. “Martyrdom – Catharsis (Where Gods Go to Die)” is a grandiose song dominated by the increasingly powerful verses between its refrain (not to mention a powerful organ performance). Similarly, “The Light That Shapes Us” allows the horns and woodwinds to act in tandem with the choirs to create a “chorus,” even as the lead vocals follow new and interesting paths.2 Over a mere thirty-eight minutes, Autumn Tears cover a lot of ground by allowing each song to walk its own general path.

If there’s a drawback to Crown of the Clairvoyant, it’s the other side of that coin: Crown of the Clairvoyant covers a lot of ground across a lot of songs that are written very organically. This means that some tracks are prone to wandering, and some feel like they just pass by, with no idea strong enough to make an impression. “Ancestral Premonition” is one such song, with many, many extended passages and vocal arrangements that linger too long on the same idea. Francesca Nicoli’s (Ataraxia) dramatic guest vocals3 add much to the song thematically, but her immediate, intense approach feels mismatched to the quiet wandering instrumentation. “Lunar Coronation” is the longest song at six minutes, but it feels like it never quite decides on a clear theme or idea. While the entirety of Crown of the Clairvoyant is intricate, clever, and, at minimum, pretty, its memorability feels a bit hit-or-miss as a result.

The first time I listened to Crown of the Clairvoyant, I was on an airplane over the Atlantic Ocean, half-awake and seated between two infants who evidently liked flying even less than me.4 This is not the right way to experience it. You can immerse yourself in Autumn Tears, even if you do prefer your music heavier. Some moments are stronger than others—but the whole is beautiful, and I would recommend trying Crown of the Clairvoyant and seeing how it feels. I’m not in love, but I am absolutely impressed.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: The Circle Music
Websites: autumntears.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/TheTrueAutumnTears
Releases Worldwide: September 22nd, 2025

#2025 #30 #Ataraxia #AutumnTears #BlindGuardianTwilightOrchestra #CrownOfTheClairvoyant #Darkwave #InternationalMetal #Neoclassical #Nightwish #Review #Reviews #Sep25 #TheCircleMusic

Igorrr – Amen Review

By Dear Hollow

Igorrr’s fifth full-length Amen symbolizes a logical and natural progression – a refinement of what was hinted at in 2020’s already excellent Spirituality and Distortion. While retaining everything that makes the project absolutely batshit crazy, the addition of a full cast of musicians in 2017 has borne fruit in striking balance. Sonic architect Gautier Serre draws from the longstanding undercurrent of baroque and both twists it and lets it breathe, resulting in something liturgical, haunting, and organic. What Amen proves is that Igorrr remains one of the most unique and creative minds in both metal and electronic, while also refusing stagnation in continuous development and betterment.

Initially sole member Serre has been at this for twenty years, and the evolution of the sound from his early work with Whourkr and demos to now shows this range. The breakcore freakouts of Igorrr’s early albums Nostril and Hallelujah were pure sugar for the brain, the bizarre sounds and novelty the emphasis in their fusion of chaotic breakcore, trip-hop, baroque, death metal, and black metal. In this evolution, Amen feels like a meat-and-potatoes record, a gradual growth since the full band experience of 2017’s Savage Sinusoid that incorporates grandiosity, gravity, and insanity in ways only Igorrr can. The act recorded Amen with a full choir, spotlighting more well-rounded performances warped by otherworldly synths and abstract effects – reverberating with riffs at its core. It’s a reaffirmation of Serre’s genius/insanity and both a heaven of godly power and one hell of a good time.

For all its seriousness, Amen wouldn’t be an Igorrr record without some moments of absolute nonsense – and they’re dead center in the tracklist. While the instruments are immensely layered and it takes some serious ears and repeated listens to deconstruct the noise, some whacky moments swing in like a monkey in a pope hat to steal your banana split and rub its junk in your face. From the blackened blastbeats, classical choirs, and random piano plonks (“Headbutt”)1 fist fights of death metal, surf rock, and oriental music (“Blastbeat Falafel”), straight-up short-form grind (“2020”), some off-key recorders atop death metal takedowns and breakcore glitching (“Mustard Mucous”), and random electronic farts morphing into wonky rhythms, classical overlays, and full-body assaults (“ADHD”), Igorrr as a full-band unit is committed to the insanity. Vocalists J.B. Le Bail (formerly of Svart Crown) and Marthe Alexandre offer death/black metal range and operatic/mournful drama respectively, while guitarist Martyn Clément (also of HAH) and drummer Remi Serafino (formerly of Ecr.Linf) add a vicious metallic bite that expertly balances silliness, groove, and even reverence. The revolving door of contributors, veterans from Soulfly, Anthrax, and Mr. Bungle, are equally bought into the schtick, making Amen feel surprisingly cohesive.

While hinted at in Spirituality and Distortion and Hallelujah, the liturgical and religious elements of Amen add a darker and more serious tone to and alongside Igorrr’s trademark. These tracks are enhanced by robust and haunting choral arrangements, strings, Arabic microtonal scales, and sharp complex percussion, although central motifs help immensely in establishing what to expect. Riffy death metal beatdowns warped by electronic effects (“Daemoni,” “Mustard Mucous”), haunting lilting vocals atop plodding beats (“Limbo,” “Ancient Sun”), and unhinged vocal attacks (“Infestis,” “Pure Disproportionate Black and White Nihilism”) add darkness and liturgy to the band’s sound. Ascending to the heavens with epic choirs and hinting at mystery with its more enigmatic melodic templates, one certainly unique approach that Igorrr employs is letting the baroque and classical elements breathe rather than Serre being quick to warp them or distort them with effects (highlight “Silence”). This makes the album feel much more organic and significant – nearly a meditation.

Amen is Igorrr firing on all cylinders in its full-band capacity. Death metal vocals, operatic laments, choirs, strings, metallic riffs, and manic drumming fed through the machine of Serre’s electronics has never felt so cohesive in its interpretation of religious and baroque viciousness. Yes, the silliest songs are smack-dab in the middle of the album in quick succession (aside from “Headbutt”), which can feel like a distraction from the more serious bookends, and Igorrr’s music can be alienating at its core. However, Amen is a reaffirmation of the project’s batshit and fun-loving genius as well as a new step forward: haunting, brutal, and otherworldly in a way that we can take seriously.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Metal Blade Records
Websites: igorrr.bandcamp.com | igorrr.com | facebook.com/IgorrrBarrroque
Releases Worldwide: September 19th, 2025

#2025 #40 #Amen #Anthrax #AvantGarde #BlackMetal #Breakcore #DeathMetal #EcrLinf #Electronic #ElectronicMetal #FrenchMetal #HAH #Igorrr #MetalBladeRecords #MrBungle #Review #Reviews #Sep25 #Soulfly #SvartCrown #TripHop #Whourkr

Vittra – Intense Indifference Review

By Angry Metal Guy

Two months ago, I saw a post on social media announcing Vittra’s sophomore album, Intense Indifference. The name struck me as funny. “A bit like a Radical Neutrality Party1 or my side-project Exaggerated Understatement,” I quipped quippily while jonesing for that sweet rush of dopamine that comes along with likes. But once my fix was had, I hastily forgot about them. As luck would have it, in this age when melodic death metal releases are few, far between, and often so drenched in reverb that it’s hard to remember that this band is playing death metal, Vittra was my only choice for a melodic death metal record this week. And so, the obvious, hacky hook for which I would shame a n00b needs to be asked: “Is it just a clever name?”

Vittra—hailing from Kolbäck, Sweden (population 2,108)—plays a very Swedish style of death metal. From the opening minutes, Vittra impresses with sticky hooks, thrashy energy, and the kind of melodic death that I associate with bands like Æther Realm, Mors Principium Est, or Xoth more than the stylings of the Insomnia or Omnia Gathera of the world. Vittra benefits from the sense that they are young, hungry, and probably deeply bored in the middle of nowhere in Västmanland. And so, in those long dark winter nights, they have sharpened their riffs, their hooks, and developed a manic energy. And Intense Indifference is 33 minutes of the sharpest riffs, the best harmonies, and a caged animal energy that reminds listeners that Kreator is better than Anthrax.2

Intense Indifference is a record with impeccable energy—unimpeachable vibes. Calling back to the legendary “GO!” on “Slaughter of the Soul,” opener “MOFO” kicks off with a not-yet-legendary, but pretty rad, “MOTHERFUCKER LET’S GO!” that sets the table. And these motherfuckers don’t let up once they get going. Each song on here oozes with the energy and hunger of a young band with a love of riffs and guitar-driven, thrashtastic death metal. From the Dark Tranquillity riffs of “Reign Supreme,” Soilwork’s slick sensibilities on “Burn(h)er,” or a bit of Carnosus/Black Dahlia Murder on “The Leap,” you can go through and pick out all the ways that they synthesize the best of what melodic death has given us over the last 30 years and cooked it down into something you want to freebase.

But Vittra’s vibe offers a unique flavor that works well here, while providing ample promise for the future. These guys seem to have a deep appreciation for Americana, classic rock ‘n’ roll, and blues. And while I struggle with that stuff myself, somehow these Swedish weirdos make it work. “Transylvanian Buffet” transports you to the honkytonk on the piano, while Johan Murmester and new guitarist Lars Elofsson genuinely impress with acoustic blues on “Soul Searcher.” And throughout, there are moments when hard turns toward blue notes or start-and-stop writing evoke the genre’s influence on Megadeth or AC/DC.3 These bits are few and far between, but they keep things creative and fresh, and you can bet your ass that there’s a lot of room for growth around them in the future.

The problem with Intense Indifference is that it flies by too quickly. At 33 minutes, 2:06 of which is spent on a cover of Slayer’s classic “Piece by Piece,” the record definitely fits within the 45-minute rule. But so little original music (covers don’t count, dudes) is a bit of a disappointment, given that the quality on here is stellar. Between the band’s two albums, they don’t even have a headlining set. And that’s a shame, because they have the kind of swagger we all love. And since the album sounds great, thanks to a Simon Johansson (Wolf, Memory Garden, now apparently Soilwork) recording, a Johan Murmester (Vittra) production, and a Lawrence Mackrory (FKÜ, Blackscape) mastering job, the listener wants more. And not just more bass.4 More great thrashy melodeath goodness!

Intense Indifference may be a kind of stupid name, but it’s also a better-than-kinda-good record, and the band is clearly better than this record. Right now, this slots easily into Listurnalia considerations and is one of the better melodic death metal records I’ve heard in a while. Sure, if you’re allergic to Slaughter of the Soul, you might call it tired.5 But I just call it very, very good.

LET’S FUCKIN’ GO!

Rating: Very Good!
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s CBR MP3
Label: Self-released
Websites: Vittra Official | Bandcamp | Facebook | Instagram
Out Worldwide: September 19th, 2025

#2025 #35 #ACDC #ÆtherRealm #Carnosus #DarkTranquillity #Insomnium #IntenseIndifference #Megadeth #MelodicDeathMetal #MorsPrincipiumEst #OmniumGatherum #Review #Sep25 #Slayer #Soilwork #TheBlackDahliaMurder #ThrashMetal #Vittra #Xoth

Slomatics – Atomicult Review

By Alekhines Gun

Arguably more than any other subgenre, doom metal is as much about aesthetic as it is raw substance. The meshing of tone with riffs of tectonic heft to compensate the substitution of speed with glacial pace is key to the formula, with many a genre great being defined by the two elements in equal measure. Long running doom outfit Slowmatics, first founded in 2004, are here to drop their eighth LP Atomicult, and have opted to modify this approach a little by making a cosmic themed album. Being a sucker for space and all its aural manifestations, I was intrigued to see whether such a relatively rare framework could mesh well with the force and requisite black-hole summoning doom is known for. Strap on your jet packs and pack extra oxygen, and let’s take a quick dip through the cosmos!

Atomicult is an album of two blended flavors. The first is the doom traditional, with slow-moving riffs coated in meteor debris. Not quite as outlandishly bass-shaking as the best of Electric Wizard nor as immediately in your face as Weedeater, the tone offers adequate fuzz to carry the plodding tempo with enough depth to qualify for dooms requisite heaviness. The vocals of Marty (who also serves on drums) have a positive, uplifting quality to them, all cleans with a solid timbre, making them somewhat comparable to more simplistic power metal in their positivity and charm. “Relics” offers a break from the doom proper for a Panopticon-esque strummed and plucked interlude where guitarists David and Chris show off some different songwriting chops while Marty gets to drop an octave and show off a little more of his range. Anyone looking for a more oppressive or depressive quality won’t find such things here, as Atomicult reaches out for a much more celestial approach.

The second flavor helps in this presentation by drenching the majority of the album in synthscapes. If you were a stan for the last Blood Incantation release there’s a lot for you to enjoy here, with tracks like “Night Grief” and “Physical Witching” slathering the guitars in all kinds of electronic leads and ambient fillings. These elements are no mere flourish, but a main staple of the album (only missing in a handful of songs) emphasizing the attempt at a genuinely ethereal journey. Atomicult isn’t an album for you to wallow in your sorrow or declare war on your enemies, but instead sounds in theme like it would be a blast to hear live if you were baked off your biscuit at a laser light show.

The problem is I am neither baked off my biscuit1 nor at a laser light show, and stripped of its contextual placements Atomicult has absolutely nothing to recommend it over its peers. Riffs are boring, meandering, and far from catchy, with nothing to justify their repetition. The tone lacks the violence to carry the minimalism, and the synths only work to serve as a saccharine distraction rather than imbibe a true sense of heavenly beauty in the void, both guitar rooted and otherwise. It doesn’t help that Marty has a nice set of pipes but keeps his vocals constrained to the limited spaces of the riffs instead of carving out melodies for counterpoint or emphasis, with only his oft-repeated lyrical refrain of “Behold the moon, the sun, the stars, the sky”2 hitting a melody anyone could call sing-along inducing. Literally everything across this offering hits the target of “Just enough”. The tone is just heavy enough, the riffs just heavy enough, the synths just colorful enough, the vocals just pretty enough to prevent me from declaring anything bad, but absolutely nothing here is engaging enough for me to call anything good.

In the end, Slowmatics have presented an album of all aesthetic and very little of substance. It’s clearly doom, it’s clearly space themed, and it’s clearly pretty, but it doesn’t captivate, stimulate, or in any way command attention from song to song and nothing sticks to the listener when the album ceases to play. This is disappointing, as I like doom, space themes, and pretty things, but Atomicult manages to aspire to check off the labels in name only. If you’re still on the prowl for extraterrestrial music or need more doom in your life in general, there’s certainly more unlistenable out there, but nothing here to make me recommend it as anything worthy of attention but for the deepest of the genre aficionados.

Rating: 2.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Majestic Mountain Records
Website: Album Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: September 12th, 2025

#20 #2025 #Atomicult #BloodIncantation #DoomMetal #ElectricWizard #MajesticMountainRecords #Panopticon #Review #Reviews #Sep25 #Slomatics #UKMetal #Weedeater