#sep26 — Public Fediverse posts

The life of the unpaid, overworked metal reviewer is not an easy one. The reviewing collective at AMG lurches from one new release to the next, errors and n00bs strewn in our wake. But what if, once in a while, the collective paused to take stock and consider the discography of those bands that shaped many a taste? What if multiple aspects of the AMG collective personality shared with the slavering masses their personal rankings of that discography, and what if the rest of the personality used a Google sheet some kind of dark magic to produce an official guide to, and an all-around definitive aggregated ranking of, that band’s entire discography? Well, if that happened, we imagine it would look something like this…

For my money, Japan’s Sigh reigns uncontested as the standard for avant-garde metal, resting on a throne forged from a stellar back catalogue over thirty years in the making. Though the band has mustered an appreciable following, how Sigh isn’t a much bigger deal in the metalsphere boggles the mind. From modest, key-forward black metal roots to totally unhinged, free-for-all arrangements, Sigh never holds back from the extraordinary visions mastermind Mirai Kawashima wields. Fully integrating orchestral might, from winds, strings and brass to sundry keys the world over, Sigh’s discography consistently challenges the definitions and boundaries of metal.

With new album Goh-Ka arriving soon, we here at Angry Metal Guy felt compelled to honor this legendary and influential act with due consideration and a thoughtful dissertation. Whether you’re new to Sigh’s oddball antics or a longtime subscriber to their wonderfully outlandish hijinks, you can’t go wrong diving into any part of the band’s history. But in case you don’t want to jump in blind, outlined below is our definitive guide to appreciating one of metal’s most remarkable personalities.

– Grin Reaper

The Rankings

Grin Reaper

Each release within Sigh’s discography is unique, and as I weigh any one album against the others, I find myself categorizing each based on what instruments or styles feature most prominently. Imaginary Sonicscape indulges in keys and synths, Scenes from Hell spotlights big fat brass, and Scenario IV lumbers with thunderous umbrage. Yet no matter the prevailing mood, Sigh’s phasers are set to thrill. This has been a difficult ranking to assess and assemble, but also an incredibly rewarding one since I got to spend so much time blasting cherished records. At the very least, I hope reading this inspires you to either discover or revisit an unquestionably impeccable discography.

#12. Scorn Defeat (1993) — Sigh’s debut, Scorn Defeat sits squarely under the black metal banner while manifesting in utterly different ways than the burgeoning second wave fomenting in Norway at the time. Though it’s a strong LP that exhibits plenty of character, Scorn Defeat still ranks at the bottom when assessing Sigh’s overarching canon. Mirai Kawashima’s unhinged vocals and the tremolo riffing satisfy black metal appetites, yet the key-driven dirge of “Gundali” that morphs into a captivating piano feature and the crawling trudges in “Ready for the Final War” and “Taste Defeat” completely subvert expectations of the genre. Although interesting ideas reside on Scorn Defeat, I rarely return to it unless I’m listening to Sigh’s discography in full.

#11. Infidel Art (1995) — Picking up where Scorn Defeat left off, Infidel Art finds Sigh writing almost exclusively long-form tracks, with only “Suicidogenic” clocking under the eight-minute mark. Though the girthy durations don’t weigh down the front of the album, by the time “The Last Elegy” arrives on the heels of “Desolation,” Infidel Art begins to buckle. Luckily, “Suicidogenic” restores momentum, beginning with a flowery piano ballad supported by uplifting strings when a sinister chord progression waylays the build and diverts into a balls-out blackened thrasher that ends on the coy grace of a forlorn flute. The track presages Sigh’s unconventional song structures that would become an enduring hallmark of their sound, and the tandem of “Suicidogenic” and “Beyond Centuries” defines the best ending duo in Sigh’s discography until Gallows Gallery.

#10. Scenario IV: Dread Dreams (1999) — Though lively moments dot Scenario IV: Dead Dreams, Sigh’s fourth LP frequently decelerates to lurching paces. On one hand, this gives songs like “Diabolic Suicide,” “Infernal Cries,” and “Iconoclasm in the 4th Desert” time to breathe. On the other, the accumulation of doomy moments dampens Scenario IV’s momentum, particularly during the album’s back half. Even so, I enjoy listening to this bridge between early Sigh’s blackened roots and the experimental mayhem that came after. I also admire the creative programming employed by Kawashima and its enmeshment within Scenario IV’s other elements, foreshadowing Imaginary Sonicscape’s untamed ingenuity. Also, that guitar solo on “Severed Ways” is magnificent. In all, Scenario IV presents beautiful and bestial moments that often excite but occasionally drag.

#9. Hail Horror Hail (1997) — Hail Horror Hail rips straight outta hell from the start, with the title track slinging classic rock riffs, punky snarls, and a string-and-flute interlude to rousing effect. It’s the album where Sigh properly inaugurates the inclusion of diverse instrumentation and psychedelia that Scenario IV augmented and Imaginary Sonicscape fully realized. The airy flute interplay with distorted guitar on “42 49” and the bizarre synth injections on “12 Souls” enrich the album’s fore with unconventional depth, but Hail’s middle sags a tad before “Curse of Izanagi” fully reignites my interest with unorthodox cinematic drama. Hail Horror Hail would be a top treasure in most discographies, yet such is Sigh’s burden and a testament to the quality of their other albums.

#8. Graveward (2015) — Inspired by classic Italian horror films and their soundtracks, Graveward embodies both a raw, DIY aesthetic and grandiose-to-the-point-of-camp schtick. More than most albums in Sigh’s oeuvre, Graveward splits fan opinions given its relatively scaled-back flamboyance, but I think this is a disservice to what Sigh accomplishes here. I largely attribute this attitude to following In Somniphobia, an impossible charge for a band putting out a new record after their last one met universal acclaim. Rather than outdoing themselves by going bigger, Kawashima et al. shifted to a direction that toes the line between garage rock spunk and their signature blend of orchestral shenanigans. Although the album might seem underwhelming relative to Sigh’s other records, “Kaedit Nos Pestis,” “The Tombfiller,” and “The Casketburner” supply hooks aplenty and catchy refrains that separate Graveward above their early era, while “Graveward” and “The Trial by the Dead” radiate lovable old-school cinematic pomp.

#7. Gallows Gallery (2005) — There’s something about Gallows Gallery’s LoFi aesthetic that brings a smile to my face. The raw production and drastic shift in direction following Imaginary Sonicscape proved divisive, particularly for Sigh’s label at the time, given they refused to distribute the album.1 It’s an altogether different beast than what came before, leaning into blues-tinged and psychedelic rock arrangements that recall a bizarre cross-section of Pink Floyd, The Animals, and a dash of Rob Zombie. The album also flies by, making it a quick romp with singalong bops. With the benefit of hindsight, it’s easier to see the threads that tie Gallows Gallery not just to its predecessor, but to the future journeys Sigh would guide listeners through. Ultimately, Gallows Gallery serves as a transition album, even for a band that constantly reinvents itself, and proves a kooky, succinct platter that hemorrhages fun.

#6. Heir to Despair (2018) — As Kronos detailed in his review of Heir to Despair, Sigh’s eleventh album finds them at their most direct and stripped down. This direction began on Graveward, but Heir to Despair further dials down the weird in favor of a more straightforward, if still offbeat, metal record. While this might seem a disappointment to some fans, hearing Sigh take on a less variegated platter allowed them to shine in a new light. “Homo Homini Lupus” rings with Maidenesque grandeur while “In Memories Delusional” instantly recalls Ozzy classic “Bark at the Moon,” at least before Mirai devolves into feral madman phrasing. Following Heir to Despair’s concept of a descent into madness, the album progresses in a clever thread from direct rocker in the front half to the idiosyncratic plunge into a psychological fracture during “Hands of the String Puller” and the title track. I think that Heir to Despair gets slept on because it’s Sigh’s most subtle work, but it rewards listeners who check expectations at the door and dare to Despair.

#5. Scenes from Hell (2010) — Sigh with horns! And not just the sweet, sweet sax that Dr. Mikannibal lends. Scenes from Hell boasts a bona fide mini orchestra,2 and it immediately sets Sigh’s eighth album apart from what came before. Another distinguishing factor is the sheer flexibility and audacity of their songwriting. One of Sigh’s defining characteristics is their plasticity, selecting what elements they want to use to invigorate an album and writing music around them to ensure the band remains fresh and exciting. Scenes from Hell begins with “Prelude to the Oracle,” where the brass section bounces between the raucous energies of a high school band section, mariachi madness, and cinematic action sequences, the latter of which gets amplified on follow-up “L’Art de Mourir” with the injection of classical strings and galloping drums. The rest of the album plays out in similar fashion, making for an excellently delectable Hellscape.

#4. Shiki (2022) — Billed as a more personal album for Mirai, Shiki ponders mortality through the lens of seasons as his autumn wanes into winter. Similar to Heir to Despair, Shiki’s instrumentation forgoes the widespread multifariousness Sigh is known for, or at least reins it in as more emphasis is placed on drums, guitars, and vocals. The latter becomes especially important given the intimacy of the subject matter. I understand academically that listeners may not always appreciate Mirai’s frantic deliveries, yet I find his acidity and bite a perfect match for the chaotic beauty of Sigh’s music. Not too much on Shiki veers from this approach, but the vocals are a touch higher in the mix and occasionally draw out in tortured howls I find particularly effective. Despite being more straightforward than many Sigh offerings, Shiki still incorporates a healthy amount of flute and keys, along with some killer shredding (“Mayonaka no Kaii”) to keep the music lively and exciting. And though I sense that Sigh always makes the music they want to, there’s an earnestness on Shiki that elevates it above the various other contenders vying for the upper echelon of their corpus.

#3. Hangman’s Hymn – Musikalische Exequien (2007)3 — Sigh goes Maiden on Hangman’s Hymn, describing the final moments and conscious thoughts of a man as he’s charged, condemned, and executed. “Hallowed Be Thy Name” is one of my all-time favorite songs, so magnifying that concept into a full-blown album presents a thrilling prospect—and boy does Sigh deliver. Though the album unfolds as a damnation of one flawed man, Hangman’s Hymn acts as a microcosm for humanity’s deserved judgment more broadly, where the solution is “Salvation in Flame.” Though bleak, Sigh furnishes this message with hellishly fun bombast. Fusing Teutonic thrash with German classical arrangements, Mirai forges an unforgettable funereal soundtrack that fumes with hellfire and musical opulence. “Inked in Blood,” “Me-Devil,” and “Salvation in Flame / Confutatis” are some of my favorite songs in Sigh’s discography, exquisitely melding the ‘ugliness’ of 80s German thrash with classical baroque underpinnings. Death never sounded so alive.

#2. Imaginary Soniscape (2001) — The first time I heard Imaginary Sonicscape, something clicked. Sigh’s fifth LP wasn’t my introduction, but it’s what cemented them as a band I would always follow. Not just a fever dream of key-drenched psychedelia,[1, Although it’s definitely that, too.] Imaginary Sonicscape swells with experimentation and an unfathomable, irresistible fearlessness. “Scarlet Dream” borrows from Andrew Lloyd Webber’s “Phantom of the Opera” with its half-step chromatic runs and adds an improbable 90s hip-hop synth, inducing a faint Faith No More undercurrent, while “A Sunset Song” meshes Beach Boys’ good vibes with smooth Michael McDonald butteriness and raw Celtic Frost edge. This thing should be a disaster, but it’s a masterpiece. A complete departure from what came before, Imaginary Sonicscape is weird yet accessible, heavy yet mellow, and an hour that disappears in a marvelous flash. Each song proves essential, and though front-loaded with my favorite tracks, bangers abound throughout and devise a record that would be the feather in the cap of many a discography. And yet…

#1. In Somniphobia (2012) — …In Somniphobia just edges into the top spot with its master-crafted auditory blitzkrieg of eclectic instruments and styles. From the slick lick that opens “Purgatorium” through the sultry sax on “Amnesia” to “Equal”‘s Moron Police-level power pop jauntiness backing the gritty refrain of ‘kill me now,’ every second of In Somniphobia exudes the peak confluence of Sigh’s intrepid creativity and musical execution. The concept of the album emboldens its soundtrack, as it explores the fragility of reality when sleep eludes or assails us. In Somniphobia deftly conjures nightmarish fluidity with constantly shifting, genre-bending while simultaneously wrangling engrossing melodies with megaton hooks. AMG Himself nailed the Iconic rating, and for my money, In Somniphobia is not only the deadliest weapon in Sigh’s arsenal, but one of the best albums this century.

Creeping Ivy

Sigh slashed their way into my life in 2022, when the bizarrely progressive strains of Shiki slaughtered my ears. Immediately, I explored much of their back catalogue, whether through the simple act of streaming (Heir to Despair, Imaginary Sonicscape) or the crapshoot destiny of crate digging (Scorn Defeat, In Somniphobia). Going through the entire Sigh discography for this ranking was a real treat—few metal bands can boast the consistent longevity and persistent creativity of Mirai Kawashima and crew. Here, AMG Faithful stands my humble offering to the inimitable Sigh!

#12. Graveward (2015) — Sigh have no bad albums, so Graveward occupying my bottom spot should not be interpreted as any sort of slight. It’s more impressive, off-the-wall stuff for sure, but it hews a bit too close to musical theater for my taste. Graveward does, like many Sigh records, grow more interesting as it goes; I especially dig the burst of orchestral blackened punk that is “Out of the Grave.” Having to follow a certain album, however, was always going to be a challenge—at this point in their storied career, Graveward feels like Sigh Sighing to me.

#11. Infidel Art (1995) — Superficially, Infidel Art seems like a marked step up from Sigh’s debut. “Izuna” and “The Zombie Terror” kick things off with kick-ass fluctuations between blackened plods, propulsive power chords, and ear-worm riffs that make the orchestral elements more central than Scorn Defeat. Gravitating towards sustained doom from “Desolation” onwards, the album ends up petering out for me in its back half. Having said that, Infidel Art portends great things to come, with “Suicidogenic” offering a late-album glimpse into Sigh’s potential for marrying macabre cinematics with metallic mobility.

#10. Heir to Despair (2018) — Shiki is the first Sigh album that, I would say, sounds like ‘modern’ metal; to my ears, Heir to Despair initiated this development. Its status as a sort of transition album makes it interesting within the band’s trajectory, but it’s also a bit tepid by Sigh standards. Going for a more patient variety of avant-garde metal, Heir possesses some killer highlights: opener “Aletheia” boasts one of the band’s most infectious riffs, “In Memories Delusional” shreds on guitar/vocal fronts, and “Homo Homini Lupus” has some sweet Phil black metal vocals. “Heresy” I–III, however, doesn’t quite cut it for me—without this (totally weird and cool) experiment in its midst, Heir to Despair might have ranked a bit higher.

#9. Scenario IV: Dread Dreams (1999) — Situated between two Sigh albums I love, Scenario IV is an album I’m intrigued by more than I love. I do enjoy it, muchly; “Infernal Cries” has some of my favorite riffing from the band, and who amongst us can resist peering “In the Mind of a Lunatic”? Getting real, though, I’ll say that Scenario IV was the first time I felt the length of a Sigh album when listening to their discography in order. Hinging between two of my top Sigh albums, Scenario IV is an album I listen to as a precursory lull of sorts (and one I can see making great leaps up my ranking upon re-listens).

#8. Hangman’s Hymn (2007) — Switching to the middle of my ranking, I’ll say this: sometimes, a first impression is a lasting impression. I Saw the World’s End before I heard Hangman’s Hymn, and what I heard was the kind of breakneck, kooky, blackened extreme metal I’d come to know and love from Sigh. Going back to the rawer original for this ranking left me equally floored; from “Introitus/Kyrie” to “Hangman’s Hymn/In Paradisum/Das Ende,” Sigh never pumps the brakes. Hangman’s Hymn didn’t necessarily need to be re-recorded, I would say, but the fact that Sigh chose to re-record it unavoidably inflects my perception of the original: great, but maybe not singular.

#7. Gallows Gallery (2005) — Seven and eight on my ranking are somewhat interchangeable, but Gallows Gallery gets the nod as, to me, the more unique mid-aughts Sigh album. If Gallows Gallery is, indeed, Sigh doing power metal, then it’s almost assuredly my favorite power metal album of all time. Guitar heroics will always put a smile on my face—”Pale Monument” and “Silver Universe” deliver the melodies, harmonies, and shred I can never get enough of. Having only clean vocals limits my enjoyment of this as a Sigh album, but when I adjust, I always have a damn good time with this record.

#6. Scorn Defeat (1993) — Scorn Defeat might be the obvious candidate as Sigh’s weakest album, as it’s the most imitative and least experimental of the bunch. Indeed, the band’s debut sounds like Venom worship with hints of the insanity to come. Growing stronger as it goes, Scorn Defeat nevertheless reveals Sigh’s potential via the harpsichord intro to “The Knell,” the incredible ivory twinkling of “Gundali,” and the choral midsection in “Taste Defeat.” Hearing Scorn Defeat early in my discovery of the Sigh discography frames my relationship with it: a harbinger of things to come that simultaneously scratches the itch for first-wave fun.

#5. Scenes from Hell (2010) — Scenes from Hell tops the middle of my ranking by wrapping bonkers mid-period Sigh in the crustier production of the early albums. Initiating the now-central fixture of Dr. Mikannibal into the fold, Scenes holds a special place in the Sigh discography, and it’s one that, for me, flirts with novelty in the best possible way. Grandiose yet gritty, the two funerals at the heart of Scenes showcase Sigh masterfully wielding orchestral elements as both central fixtures and subtle touches, never losing touch with the album’s punky black core. Hell’s soundtrack supersedes Heaven’s; this I always knew; what I didn’t know was how lively and fun this soundtrack actually is.

#4. Shiki (2022) — Shiki introduced me to the wonderfully weird world of Sigh, and it’s an album I still hold in very high regard. I tend to love progressive music that embraces enabling constraints, and Shiki sees Sigh continuing the shift they made towards relative restraint on Heir to Despair (2018) with this meditation on mortality. Getting older sucks, but it sucks a lot less with a soundtrack of killer doom riffs (“Kuroi Kage”), bitchin’ bongo solos (“Skikabane”), and jazzy noir interludes (“Mayonaka No Kaii”). Having Frédéric Leclerq and Mike Heller on board as guest musicians helps reinvigorate the band (as adding Dr. Mikannibal did on Scenes from Hell)—Shiki ascends to the top of metal modernity by enlisting top-tier veterans.

#3. Hail Horror Hail (1997) — Sigh truly became Sighcotic on their third album, the one I reach for when I want slow-burning nightmare fuel at an aesthetic distance. It took a few spins for Hail Horror Hail to fully sink its murderous hooks into me; once it did, it easily clawed its way towards the top of my ranking. Going for a more black n’ roll sound off the bat with the anthemic title track, “12 Souls” starts to give me the scaries, but “The Dead Sing” has me roving between fear and joy in a manner that can be called sublime. Hardest one to get into, most rewarding one to get into—this is my experience with Hail Horror Hail.

#2. In Somniphobia (2012) — Sorting out the Sigh discography ended up being a two-horse race, with In Somniphobia slightly falling behind my winner. I found Sigh’s ninth in my local vinyl shop (and valiantly haggled the owner down $15), and it immediately floored me with its near-perfect balance of metallic speed, grandiose classicism, jazzy swagger, and a bunch of other things. Getting the Lucid Nightmare Suite alone would’ve made this Sigh’s second best; “L’excommunication a Minuit” gets my blood boiling with its Mortal Kombat riff, while “Amongst the Phantoms of Abandoned Tumbrils” brings me down with its haunting accordion compressions. Hearing In Somniphobia on double vinyl, however, made me realize that Sides A/D are an enveloping EP of sorts—best twofer ever!

#1. Imaginary Sonicscape (2001) — Sonicscapes don’t get any more imaginary than this. In a discography where no two albums sound all that much alike, Imaginary Sonicscape truly sounds like no other Sigh record, which is precisely why it’s my favorite. Gushing about this album must be done in a concise manner, so I’ll leave it at this: “A Sunset Song” was the track that sold me on the album, full stop, and it’s still one of my favorite Sigh songs. Hearing this chaotic dreamsphere of crying corpses, Nietzschean conspiracies, and ecstatic transformations always feels like hearing it for the first time, and I love introducing people to it (metalheads, but anyone with a taste for the avant-garde).

Angry Metal Guy Staff Ranking

Combining the aforementioned analyses with the wisdom of more tenured staff, please enjoy the aggregated ranking below:

1. 1. Infidel Art (1995)
   2. Scenario IV: Dread Dreams (1999)
   3. Scorn Defeat (1993)
   4. Graveward (2015)
   5. Hail Horror Hail (1997)
   6. Heir to Despair (2018)
   7. Gallows Gallery (2005)
   8. Hangman’s Hymn (2007)
   9. Shiki (2022)
   10. Scenes from Hell (2010)
   11. Imaginary Sonicscape (2001)
   12. In Somniphobia (2012)

For any uncultured readers who need a quick study on one of the best bands in the biz, check out the below.

The life of the unpaid, overworked metal reviewer is not an easy one. The reviewing collective at AMG lurches from one new release to the next, errors and n00bs strewn in our wake. But what if, once in a while, the collective paused to take stock and consider the discography of those bands that shaped many a taste? What if multiple aspects of the AMG collective personality shared with the slavering masses their personal rankings of that discography, and what if the rest of the personality used a Google sheet some kind of dark magic to produce an official guide to, and an all-around definitive aggregated ranking of, that band’s entire discography? Well, if that happened, we imagine it would look something like this…

For my money, Japan’s Sigh reigns uncontested as the standard for avant-garde metal, resting on a throne forged from a stellar back catalogue over thirty years in the making. Though the band has mustered an appreciable following, how Sigh isn’t a much bigger deal in the metalsphere boggles the mind. From modest, key-forward black metal roots to totally unhinged, free-for-all arrangements, Sigh never holds back from the extraordinary visions mastermind Mirai Kawashima wields. Fully integrating orchestral might, from winds, strings and brass to sundry keys the world over, Sigh’s discography consistently challenges the definitions and boundaries of metal.

With new album Goh-Ka arriving soon, we here at Angry Metal Guy felt compelled to honor this legendary and influential act with due consideration and a thoughtful dissertation. Whether you’re new to Sigh’s oddball antics or a longtime subscriber to their wonderfully outlandish hijinks, you can’t go wrong diving into any part of the band’s history. But in case you don’t want to jump in blind, outlined below is our definitive guide to appreciating one of metal’s most remarkable personalities.

– Grin Reaper

The Rankings

Grin Reaper

Each release within Sigh’s discography is unique, and as I weigh any one album against the others, I find myself categorizing each based on what instruments or styles feature most prominently. Imaginary Sonicscape indulges in keys and synths, Scenes from Hell spotlights big fat brass, and Scenario IV lumbers with thunderous umbrage. Yet no matter the prevailing mood, Sigh’s phasers are set to thrill. This has been a difficult ranking to assess and assemble, but also an incredibly rewarding one since I got to spend so much time blasting cherished records. At the very least, I hope reading this inspires you to either discover or revisit an unquestionably impeccable discography.

#12. Scorn Defeat (1993) — Sigh’s debut, Scorn Defeat sits squarely under the black metal banner while manifesting in utterly different ways than the burgeoning second wave fomenting in Norway at the time. Though it’s a strong LP that exhibits plenty of character, Scorn Defeat still ranks at the bottom when assessing Sigh’s overarching canon. Mirai Kawashima’s unhinged vocals and the tremolo riffing satisfy black metal appetites, yet the key-driven dirge of “Gundali” that morphs into a captivating piano feature and the crawling trudges in “Ready for the Final War” and “Taste Defeat” completely subvert expectations of the genre. Although interesting ideas reside on Scorn Defeat, I rarely return to it unless I’m listening to Sigh’s discography in full.

#11. Infidel Art (1995) — Picking up where Scorn Defeat left off, Infidel Art finds Sigh writing almost exclusively long-form tracks, with only “Suicidogenic” clocking under the eight-minute mark. Though the girthy durations don’t weigh down the front of the album, by the time “The Last Elegy” arrives on the heels of “Desolation,” Infidel Art begins to buckle. Luckily, “Suicidogenic” restores momentum, beginning with a flowery piano ballad supported by uplifting strings when a sinister chord progression waylays the build and diverts into a balls-out blackened thrasher that ends on the coy grace of a forlorn flute. The track presages Sigh’s unconventional song structures that would become an enduring hallmark of their sound, and the tandem of “Suicidogenic” and “Beyond Centuries” defines the best ending duo in Sigh’s discography until Gallows Gallery.

#10. Scenario IV: Dread Dreams (1999) — Though lively moments dot Scenario IV: Dead Dreams, Sigh’s fourth LP frequently decelerates to lurching paces. On one hand, this gives songs like “Diabolic Suicide,” “Infernal Cries,” and “Iconoclasm in the 4th Desert” time to breathe. On the other, the accumulation of doomy moments dampens Scenario IV’s momentum, particularly during the album’s back half. Even so, I enjoy listening to this bridge between early Sigh’s blackened roots and the experimental mayhem that came after. I also admire the creative programming employed by Kawashima and its enmeshment within Scenario IV’s other elements, foreshadowing Imaginary Sonicscape’s untamed ingenuity. Also, that guitar solo on “Severed Ways” is magnificent. In all, Scenario IV presents beautiful and bestial moments that often excite but occasionally drag.

#9. Hail Horror Hail (1997) — Hail Horror Hail rips straight outta hell from the start, with the title track slinging classic rock riffs, punky snarls, and a string-and-flute interlude to rousing effect. It’s the album where Sigh properly inaugurates the inclusion of diverse instrumentation and psychedelia that Scenario IV augmented and Imaginary Sonicscape fully realized. The airy flute interplay with distorted guitar on “42 49” and the bizarre synth injections on “12 Souls” enrich the album’s fore with unconventional depth, but Hail’s middle sags a tad before “Curse of Izanagi” fully reignites my interest with unorthodox cinematic drama. Hail Horror Hail would be a top treasure in most discographies, yet such is Sigh’s burden and a testament to the quality of their other albums.

#8. Graveward (2015) — Inspired by classic Italian horror films and their soundtracks, Graveward embodies both a raw, DIY aesthetic and grandiose-to-the-point-of-camp schtick. More than most albums in Sigh’s oeuvre, Graveward splits fan opinions given its relatively scaled-back flamboyance, but I think this is a disservice to what Sigh accomplishes here. I largely attribute this attitude to following In Somniphobia, an impossible charge for a band putting out a new record after their last one met universal acclaim. Rather than outdoing themselves by going bigger, Kawashima et al. shifted to a direction that toes the line between garage rock spunk and their signature blend of orchestral shenanigans. Although the album might seem underwhelming relative to Sigh’s other records, “Kaedit Nos Pestis,” “The Tombfiller,” and “The Casketburner” supply hooks aplenty and catchy refrains that separate Graveward above their early era, while “Graveward” and “The Trial by the Dead” radiate lovable old-school cinematic pomp.

#7. Gallows Gallery (2005) — There’s something about Gallows Gallery’s LoFi aesthetic that brings a smile to my face. The raw production and drastic shift in direction following Imaginary Sonicscape proved divisive, particularly for Sigh’s label at the time, given they refused to distribute the album.1 It’s an altogether different beast than what came before, leaning into blues-tinged and psychedelic rock arrangements that recall a bizarre cross-section of Pink Floyd, The Animals, and a dash of Rob Zombie. The album also flies by, making it a quick romp with singalong bops. With the benefit of hindsight, it’s easier to see the threads that tie Gallows Gallery not just to its predecessor, but to the future journeys Sigh would guide listeners through. Ultimately, Gallows Gallery serves as a transition album, even for a band that constantly reinvents itself, and proves a kooky, succinct platter that hemorrhages fun.

#6. Heir to Despair (2018) — As Kronos detailed in his review of Heir to Despair, Sigh’s eleventh album finds them at their most direct and stripped down. This direction began on Graveward, but Heir to Despair further dials down the weird in favor of a more straightforward, if still offbeat, metal record. While this might seem a disappointment to some fans, hearing Sigh take on a less variegated platter allowed them to shine in a new light. “Homo Homini Lupus” rings with Maidenesque grandeur while “In Memories Delusional” instantly recalls Ozzy classic “Bark at the Moon,” at least before Mirai devolves into feral madman phrasing. Following Heir to Despair’s concept of a descent into madness, the album progresses in a clever thread from direct rocker in the front half to the idiosyncratic plunge into a psychological fracture during “Hands of the String Puller” and the title track. I think that Heir to Despair gets slept on because it’s Sigh’s most subtle work, but it rewards listeners who check expectations at the door and dare to Despair.

#5. Scenes from Hell (2010) — Sigh with horns! And not just the sweet, sweet sax that Dr. Mikannibal lends. Scenes from Hell boasts a bona fide mini orchestra,2 and it immediately sets Sigh’s eighth album apart from what came before. Another distinguishing factor is the sheer flexibility and audacity of their songwriting. One of Sigh’s defining characteristics is their plasticity, selecting what elements they want to use to invigorate an album and writing music around them to ensure the band remains fresh and exciting. Scenes from Hell begins with “Prelude to the Oracle,” where the brass section bounces between the raucous energies of a high school band section, mariachi madness, and cinematic action sequences, the latter of which gets amplified on follow-up “L’Art de Mourir” with the injection of classical strings and galloping drums. The rest of the album plays out in similar fashion, making for an excellently delectable Hellscape.

#4. Shiki (2022) — Billed as a more personal album for Mirai, Shiki ponders mortality through the lens of seasons as his autumn wanes into winter. Similar to Heir to Despair, Shiki’s instrumentation forgoes the widespread multifariousness Sigh is known for, or at least reins it in as more emphasis is placed on drums, guitars, and vocals. The latter becomes especially important given the intimacy of the subject matter. I understand academically that listeners may not always appreciate Mirai’s frantic deliveries, yet I find his acidity and bite a perfect match for the chaotic beauty of Sigh’s music. Not too much on Shiki veers from this approach, but the vocals are a touch higher in the mix and occasionally draw out in tortured howls I find particularly effective. Despite being more straightforward than many Sigh offerings, Shiki still incorporates a healthy amount of flute and keys, along with some killer shredding (“Mayonaka no Kaii”) to keep the music lively and exciting. And though I sense that Sigh always makes the music they want to, there’s an earnestness on Shiki that elevates it above the various other contenders vying for the upper echelon of their corpus.

#3. Hangman’s Hymn – Musikalische Exequien (2007)3 — Sigh goes Maiden on Hangman’s Hymn, describing the final moments and conscious thoughts of a man as he’s charged, condemned, and executed. “Hallowed Be Thy Name” is one of my all-time favorite songs, so magnifying that concept into a full-blown album presents a thrilling prospect—and boy does Sigh deliver. Though the album unfolds as a damnation of one flawed man, Hangman’s Hymn acts as a microcosm for humanity’s deserved judgment more broadly, where the solution is “Salvation in Flame.” Though bleak, Sigh furnishes this message with hellishly fun bombast. Fusing Teutonic thrash with German classical arrangements, Mirai forges an unforgettable funereal soundtrack that fumes with hellfire and musical opulence. “Inked in Blood,” “Me-Devil,” and “Salvation in Flame / Confutatis” are some of my favorite songs in Sigh’s discography, exquisitely melding the ‘ugliness’ of 80s German thrash with classical baroque underpinnings. Death never sounded so alive.

#2. Imaginary Soniscape (2001) — The first time I heard Imaginary Sonicscape, something clicked. Sigh’s fifth LP wasn’t my introduction, but it’s what cemented them as a band I would always follow. Not just a fever dream of key-drenched psychedelia,[1, Although it’s definitely that, too.] Imaginary Sonicscape swells with experimentation and an unfathomable, irresistible fearlessness. “Scarlet Dream” borrows from Andrew Lloyd Webber’s “Phantom of the Opera” with its half-step chromatic runs and adds an improbable 90s hip-hop synth, inducing a faint Faith No More undercurrent, while “A Sunset Song” meshes Beach Boys’ good vibes with smooth Michael McDonald butteriness and raw Celtic Frost edge. This thing should be a disaster, but it’s a masterpiece. A complete departure from what came before, Imaginary Sonicscape is weird yet accessible, heavy yet mellow, and an hour that disappears in a marvelous flash. Each song proves essential, and though front-loaded with my favorite tracks, bangers abound throughout and devise a record that would be the feather in the cap of many a discography. And yet…

#1. In Somniphobia (2012) — …In Somniphobia just edges into the top spot with its master-crafted auditory blitzkrieg of eclectic instruments and styles. From the slick lick that opens “Purgatorium” through the sultry sax on “Amnesia” to “Equal”‘s Moron Police-level power pop jauntiness backing the gritty refrain of ‘kill me now,’ every second of In Somniphobia exudes the peak confluence of Sigh’s intrepid creativity and musical execution. The concept of the album emboldens its soundtrack, as it explores the fragility of reality when sleep eludes or assails us. In Somniphobia deftly conjures nightmarish fluidity with constantly shifting, genre-bending while simultaneously wrangling engrossing melodies with megaton hooks. AMG Himself nailed the Iconic rating, and for my money, In Somniphobia is not only the deadliest weapon in Sigh’s arsenal, but one of the best albums this century.

Creeping Ivy

Sigh slashed their way into my life in 2022, when the bizarrely progressive strains of Shiki slaughtered my ears. Immediately, I explored much of their back catalogue, whether through the simple act of streaming (Heir to Despair, Imaginary Sonicscape) or the crapshoot destiny of crate digging (Scorn Defeat, In Somniphobia). Going through the entire Sigh discography for this ranking was a real treat—few metal bands can boast the consistent longevity and persistent creativity of Mirai Kawashima and crew. Here, AMG Faithful stands my humble offering to the inimitable Sigh!

#12. Graveward (2015) — Sigh have no bad albums, so Graveward occupying my bottom spot should not be interpreted as any sort of slight. It’s more impressive, off-the-wall stuff for sure, but it hews a bit too close to musical theater for my taste. Graveward does, like many Sigh records, grow more interesting as it goes; I especially dig the burst of orchestral blackened punk that is “Out of the Grave.” Having to follow a certain album, however, was always going to be a challenge—at this point in their storied career, Graveward feels like Sigh Sighing to me.

#11. Infidel Art (1995) — Superficially, Infidel Art seems like a marked step up from Sigh’s debut. “Izuna” and “The Zombie Terror” kick things off with kick-ass fluctuations between blackened plods, propulsive power chords, and ear-worm riffs that make the orchestral elements more central than Scorn Defeat. Gravitating towards sustained doom from “Desolation” onwards, the album ends up petering out for me in its back half. Having said that, Infidel Art portends great things to come, with “Suicidogenic” offering a late-album glimpse into Sigh’s potential for marrying macabre cinematics with metallic mobility.

#10. Heir to Despair (2018) — Shiki is the first Sigh album that, I would say, sounds like ‘modern’ metal; to my ears, Heir to Despair initiated this development. Its status as a sort of transition album makes it interesting within the band’s trajectory, but it’s also a bit tepid by Sigh standards. Going for a more patient variety of avant-garde metal, Heir possesses some killer highlights: opener “Aletheia” boasts one of the band’s most infectious riffs, “In Memories Delusional” shreds on guitar/vocal fronts, and “Homo Homini Lupus” has some sweet Phil black metal vocals. “Heresy” I–III, however, doesn’t quite cut it for me—without this (totally weird and cool) experiment in its midst, Heir to Despair might have ranked a bit higher.

#9. Scenario IV: Dread Dreams (1999) — Situated between two Sigh albums I love, Scenario IV is an album I’m intrigued by more than I love. I do enjoy it, muchly; “Infernal Cries” has some of my favorite riffing from the band, and who amongst us can resist peering “In the Mind of a Lunatic”? Getting real, though, I’ll say that Scenario IV was the first time I felt the length of a Sigh album when listening to their discography in order. Hinging between two of my top Sigh albums, Scenario IV is an album I listen to as a precursory lull of sorts (and one I can see making great leaps up my ranking upon re-listens).

#8. Hangman’s Hymn (2007) — Switching to the middle of my ranking, I’ll say this: sometimes, a first impression is a lasting impression. I Saw the World’s End before I heard Hangman’s Hymn, and what I heard was the kind of breakneck, kooky, blackened extreme metal I’d come to know and love from Sigh. Going back to the rawer original for this ranking left me equally floored; from “Introitus/Kyrie” to “Hangman’s Hymn/In Paradisum/Das Ende,” Sigh never pumps the brakes. Hangman’s Hymn didn’t necessarily need to be re-recorded, I would say, but the fact that Sigh chose to re-record it unavoidably inflects my perception of the original: great, but maybe not singular.

#7. Gallows Gallery (2005) — Seven and eight on my ranking are somewhat interchangeable, but Gallows Gallery gets the nod as, to me, the more unique mid-aughts Sigh album. If Gallows Gallery is, indeed, Sigh doing power metal, then it’s almost assuredly my favorite power metal album of all time. Guitar heroics will always put a smile on my face—”Pale Monument” and “Silver Universe” deliver the melodies, harmonies, and shred I can never get enough of. Having only clean vocals limits my enjoyment of this as a Sigh album, but when I adjust, I always have a damn good time with this record.

#6. Scorn Defeat (1993) — Scorn Defeat might be the obvious candidate as Sigh’s weakest album, as it’s the most imitative and least experimental of the bunch. Indeed, the band’s debut sounds like Venom worship with hints of the insanity to come. Growing stronger as it goes, Scorn Defeat nevertheless reveals Sigh’s potential via the harpsichord intro to “The Knell,” the incredible ivory twinkling of “Gundali,” and the choral midsection in “Taste Defeat.” Hearing Scorn Defeat early in my discovery of the Sigh discography frames my relationship with it: a harbinger of things to come that simultaneously scratches the itch for first-wave fun.

#5. Scenes from Hell (2010) — Scenes from Hell tops the middle of my ranking by wrapping bonkers mid-period Sigh in the crustier production of the early albums. Initiating the now-central fixture of Dr. Mikannibal into the fold, Scenes holds a special place in the Sigh discography, and it’s one that, for me, flirts with novelty in the best possible way. Grandiose yet gritty, the two funerals at the heart of Scenes showcase Sigh masterfully wielding orchestral elements as both central fixtures and subtle touches, never losing touch with the album’s punky black core. Hell’s soundtrack supersedes Heaven’s; this I always knew; what I didn’t know was how lively and fun this soundtrack actually is.

#4. Shiki (2022) — Shiki introduced me to the wonderfully weird world of Sigh, and it’s an album I still hold in very high regard. I tend to love progressive music that embraces enabling constraints, and Shiki sees Sigh continuing the shift they made towards relative restraint on Heir to Despair (2018) with this meditation on mortality. Getting older sucks, but it sucks a lot less with a soundtrack of killer doom riffs (“Kuroi Kage”), bitchin’ bongo solos (“Skikabane”), and jazzy noir interludes (“Mayonaka No Kaii”). Having Frédéric Leclerq and Mike Heller on board as guest musicians helps reinvigorate the band (as adding Dr. Mikannibal did on Scenes from Hell)—Shiki ascends to the top of metal modernity by enlisting top-tier veterans.

#3. Hail Horror Hail (1997) — Sigh truly became Sighcotic on their third album, the one I reach for when I want slow-burning nightmare fuel at an aesthetic distance. It took a few spins for Hail Horror Hail to fully sink its murderous hooks into me; once it did, it easily clawed its way towards the top of my ranking. Going for a more black n’ roll sound off the bat with the anthemic title track, “12 Souls” starts to give me the scaries, but “The Dead Sing” has me roving between fear and joy in a manner that can be called sublime. Hardest one to get into, most rewarding one to get into—this is my experience with Hail Horror Hail.

#2. In Somniphobia (2012) — Sorting out the Sigh discography ended up being a two-horse race, with In Somniphobia slightly falling behind my winner. I found Sigh’s ninth in my local vinyl shop (and valiantly haggled the owner down $15), and it immediately floored me with its near-perfect balance of metallic speed, grandiose classicism, jazzy swagger, and a bunch of other things. Getting the Lucid Nightmare Suite alone would’ve made this Sigh’s second best; “L’excommunication a Minuit” gets my blood boiling with its Mortal Kombat riff, while “Amongst the Phantoms of Abandoned Tumbrils” brings me down with its haunting accordion compressions. Hearing In Somniphobia on double vinyl, however, made me realize that Sides A/D are an enveloping EP of sorts—best twofer ever!

#1. Imaginary Sonicscape (2001) — Sonicscapes don’t get any more imaginary than this. In a discography where no two albums sound all that much alike, Imaginary Sonicscape truly sounds like no other Sigh record, which is precisely why it’s my favorite. Gushing about this album must be done in a concise manner, so I’ll leave it at this: “A Sunset Song” was the track that sold me on the album, full stop, and it’s still one of my favorite Sigh songs. Hearing this chaotic dreamsphere of crying corpses, Nietzschean conspiracies, and ecstatic transformations always feels like hearing it for the first time, and I love introducing people to it (metalheads, but anyone with a taste for the avant-garde).

Angry Metal Guy Staff Ranking

Combining the aforementioned analyses with the wisdom of more tenured staff, please enjoy the aggregated ranking below:

1. 1. Infidel Art (1995)
   2. Scenario IV: Dread Dreams (1999)
   3. Scorn Defeat (1993)
   4. Graveward (2015)
   5. Hail Horror Hail (1997)
   6. Heir to Despair (2018)
   7. Gallows Gallery (2005)
   8. Hangman’s Hymn (2007)
   9. Shiki (2022)
   10. Scenes from Hell (2010)
   11. Imaginary Sonicscape (2001)
   12. In Somniphobia (2012)

For any uncultured readers who need a quick study on one of the best bands in the biz, check out the below.

The life of the unpaid, overworked metal reviewer is not an easy one. The reviewing collective at AMG lurches from one new release to the next, errors and n00bs strewn in our wake. But what if, once in a while, the collective paused to take stock and consider the discography of those bands that shaped many a taste? What if multiple aspects of the AMG collective personality shared with the slavering masses their personal rankings of that discography, and what if the rest of the personality used a Google sheet some kind of dark magic to produce an official guide to, and an all-around definitive aggregated ranking of, that band’s entire discography? Well, if that happened, we imagine it would look something like this…

For my money, Japan’s Sigh reigns uncontested as the standard for avant-garde metal, resting on a throne forged from a stellar back catalogue over thirty years in the making. Though the band has mustered an appreciable following, how Sigh isn’t a much bigger deal in the metalsphere boggles the mind. From modest, key-forward black metal roots to totally unhinged, free-for-all arrangements, Sigh never holds back from the extraordinary visions mastermind Mirai Kawashima wields. Fully integrating orchestral might, from winds, strings and brass to sundry keys the world over, Sigh’s discography consistently challenges the definitions and boundaries of metal.

With new album Goh-Ka arriving soon, we here at Angry Metal Guy felt compelled to honor this legendary and influential act with due consideration and a thoughtful dissertation. Whether you’re new to Sigh’s oddball antics or a longtime subscriber to their wonderfully outlandish hijinks, you can’t go wrong diving into any part of the band’s history. But in case you don’t want to jump in blind, outlined below is our definitive guide to appreciating one of metal’s most remarkable personalities.

– Grin Reaper

The Rankings

Grin Reaper

Each release within Sigh’s discography is unique, and as I weigh any one album against the others, I find myself categorizing each based on what instruments or styles feature most prominently. Imaginary Sonicscape indulges in keys and synths, Scenes from Hell spotlights big fat brass, and Scenario IV lumbers with thunderous umbrage. Yet no matter the prevailing mood, Sigh’s phasers are set to thrill. This has been a difficult ranking to assess and assemble, but also an incredibly rewarding one since I got to spend so much time blasting cherished records. At the very least, I hope reading this inspires you to either discover or revisit an unquestionably impeccable discography.

#12. Scorn Defeat (1993) — Sigh’s debut, Scorn Defeat sits squarely under the black metal banner while manifesting in utterly different ways than the burgeoning second wave fomenting in Norway at the time. Though it’s a strong LP that exhibits plenty of character, Scorn Defeat still ranks at the bottom when assessing Sigh’s overarching canon. Mirai Kawashima’s unhinged vocals and the tremolo riffing satisfy black metal appetites, yet the key-driven dirge of “Gundali” that morphs into a captivating piano feature and the crawling trudges in “Ready for the Final War” and “Taste Defeat” completely subvert expectations of the genre. Although interesting ideas reside on Scorn Defeat, I rarely return to it unless I’m listening to Sigh’s discography in full.

#11. Infidel Art (1995) — Picking up where Scorn Defeat left off, Infidel Art finds Sigh writing almost exclusively long-form tracks, with only “Suicidogenic” clocking under the eight-minute mark. Though the girthy durations don’t weigh down the front of the album, by the time “The Last Elegy” arrives on the heels of “Desolation,” Infidel Art begins to buckle. Luckily, “Suicidogenic” restores momentum, beginning with a flowery piano ballad supported by uplifting strings when a sinister chord progression waylays the build and diverts into a balls-out blackened thrasher that ends on the coy grace of a forlorn flute. The track presages Sigh’s unconventional song structures that would become an enduring hallmark of their sound, and the tandem of “Suicidogenic” and “Beyond Centuries” defines the best ending duo in Sigh’s discography until Gallows Gallery.

#10. Scenario IV: Dread Dreams (1999) — Though lively moments dot Scenario IV: Dead Dreams, Sigh’s fourth LP frequently decelerates to lurching paces. On one hand, this gives songs like “Diabolic Suicide,” “Infernal Cries,” and “Iconoclasm in the 4th Desert” time to breathe. On the other, the accumulation of doomy moments dampens Scenario IV’s momentum, particularly during the album’s back half. Even so, I enjoy listening to this bridge between early Sigh’s blackened roots and the experimental mayhem that came after. I also admire the creative programming employed by Kawashima and its enmeshment within Scenario IV’s other elements, foreshadowing Imaginary Sonicscape’s untamed ingenuity. Also, that guitar solo on “Severed Ways” is magnificent. In all, Scenario IV presents beautiful and bestial moments that often excite but occasionally drag.

#9. Hail Horror Hail (1997) — Hail Horror Hail rips straight outta hell from the start, with the title track slinging classic rock riffs, punky snarls, and a string-and-flute interlude to rousing effect. It’s the album where Sigh properly inaugurates the inclusion of diverse instrumentation and psychedelia that Scenario IV augmented and Imaginary Sonicscape fully realized. The airy flute interplay with distorted guitar on “42 49” and the bizarre synth injections on “12 Souls” enrich the album’s fore with unconventional depth, but Hail’s middle sags a tad before “Curse of Izanagi” fully reignites my interest with unorthodox cinematic drama. Hail Horror Hail would be a top treasure in most discographies, yet such is Sigh’s burden and a testament to the quality of their other albums.

#8. Graveward (2015) — Inspired by classic Italian horror films and their soundtracks, Graveward embodies both a raw, DIY aesthetic and grandiose-to-the-point-of-camp schtick. More than most albums in Sigh’s oeuvre, Graveward splits fan opinions given its relatively scaled-back flamboyance, but I think this is a disservice to what Sigh accomplishes here. I largely attribute this attitude to following In Somniphobia, an impossible charge for a band putting out a new record after their last one met universal acclaim. Rather than outdoing themselves by going bigger, Kawashima et al. shifted to a direction that toes the line between garage rock spunk and their signature blend of orchestral shenanigans. Although the album might seem underwhelming relative to Sigh’s other records, “Kaedit Nos Pestis,” “The Tombfiller,” and “The Casketburner” supply hooks aplenty and catchy refrains that separate Graveward above their early era, while “Graveward” and “The Trial by the Dead” radiate lovable old-school cinematic pomp.

#7. Gallows Gallery (2005) — There’s something about Gallows Gallery’s LoFi aesthetic that brings a smile to my face. The raw production and drastic shift in direction following Imaginary Sonicscape proved divisive, particularly for Sigh’s label at the time, given they refused to distribute the album.1 It’s an altogether different beast than what came before, leaning into blues-tinged and psychedelic rock arrangements that recall a bizarre cross-section of Pink Floyd, The Animals, and a dash of Rob Zombie. The album also flies by, making it a quick romp with singalong bops. With the benefit of hindsight, it’s easier to see the threads that tie Gallows Gallery not just to its predecessor, but to the future journeys Sigh would guide listeners through. Ultimately, Gallows Gallery serves as a transition album, even for a band that constantly reinvents itself, and proves a kooky, succinct platter that hemorrhages fun.

#6. Heir to Despair (2018) — As Kronos detailed in his review of Heir to Despair, Sigh’s eleventh album finds them at their most direct and stripped down. This direction began on Graveward, but Heir to Despair further dials down the weird in favor of a more straightforward, if still offbeat, metal record. While this might seem a disappointment to some fans, hearing Sigh take on a less variegated platter allowed them to shine in a new light. “Homo Homini Lupus” rings with Maidenesque grandeur while “In Memories Delusional” instantly recalls Ozzy classic “Bark at the Moon,” at least before Mirai devolves into feral madman phrasing. Following Heir to Despair’s concept of a descent into madness, the album progresses in a clever thread from direct rocker in the front half to the idiosyncratic plunge into a psychological fracture during “Hands of the String Puller” and the title track. I think that Heir to Despair gets slept on because it’s Sigh’s most subtle work, but it rewards listeners who check expectations at the door and dare to Despair.

#5. Scenes from Hell (2010) — Sigh with horns! And not just the sweet, sweet sax that Dr. Mikannibal lends. Scenes from Hell boasts a bona fide mini orchestra,2 and it immediately sets Sigh’s eighth album apart from what came before. Another distinguishing factor is the sheer flexibility and audacity of their songwriting. One of Sigh’s defining characteristics is their plasticity, selecting what elements they want to use to invigorate an album and writing music around them to ensure the band remains fresh and exciting. Scenes from Hell begins with “Prelude to the Oracle,” where the brass section bounces between the raucous energies of a high school band section, mariachi madness, and cinematic action sequences, the latter of which gets amplified on follow-up “L’Art de Mourir” with the injection of classical strings and galloping drums. The rest of the album plays out in similar fashion, making for an excellently delectable Hellscape.

#4. Shiki (2022) — Billed as a more personal album for Mirai, Shiki ponders mortality through the lens of seasons as his autumn wanes into winter. Similar to Heir to Despair, Shiki’s instrumentation forgoes the widespread multifariousness Sigh is known for, or at least reins it in as more emphasis is placed on drums, guitars, and vocals. The latter becomes especially important given the intimacy of the subject matter. I understand academically that listeners may not always appreciate Mirai’s frantic deliveries, yet I find his acidity and bite a perfect match for the chaotic beauty of Sigh’s music. Not too much on Shiki veers from this approach, but the vocals are a touch higher in the mix and occasionally draw out in tortured howls I find particularly effective. Despite being more straightforward than many Sigh offerings, Shiki still incorporates a healthy amount of flute and keys, along with some killer shredding (“Mayonaka no Kaii”) to keep the music lively and exciting. And though I sense that Sigh always makes the music they want to, there’s an earnestness on Shiki that elevates it above the various other contenders vying for the upper echelon of their corpus.

#3. Hangman’s Hymn – Musikalische Exequien (2007)3 — Sigh goes Maiden on Hangman’s Hymn, describing the final moments and conscious thoughts of a man as he’s charged, condemned, and executed. “Hallowed Be Thy Name” is one of my all-time favorite songs, so magnifying that concept into a full-blown album presents a thrilling prospect—and boy does Sigh deliver. Though the album unfolds as a damnation of one flawed man, Hangman’s Hymn acts as a microcosm for humanity’s deserved judgment more broadly, where the solution is “Salvation in Flame.” Though bleak, Sigh furnishes this message with hellishly fun bombast. Fusing Teutonic thrash with German classical arrangements, Mirai forges an unforgettable funereal soundtrack that fumes with hellfire and musical opulence. “Inked in Blood,” “Me-Devil,” and “Salvation in Flame / Confutatis” are some of my favorite songs in Sigh’s discography, exquisitely melding the ‘ugliness’ of 80s German thrash with classical baroque underpinnings. Death never sounded so alive.

#2. Imaginary Soniscape (2001) — The first time I heard Imaginary Sonicscape, something clicked. Sigh’s fifth LP wasn’t my introduction, but it’s what cemented them as a band I would always follow. Not just a fever dream of key-drenched psychedelia,[1, Although it’s definitely that, too.] Imaginary Sonicscape swells with experimentation and an unfathomable, irresistible fearlessness. “Scarlet Dream” borrows from Andrew Lloyd Webber’s “Phantom of the Opera” with its half-step chromatic runs and adds an improbable 90s hip-hop synth, inducing a faint Faith No More undercurrent, while “A Sunset Song” meshes Beach Boys’ good vibes with smooth Michael McDonald butteriness and raw Celtic Frost edge. This thing should be a disaster, but it’s a masterpiece. A complete departure from what came before, Imaginary Sonicscape is weird yet accessible, heavy yet mellow, and an hour that disappears in a marvelous flash. Each song proves essential, and though front-loaded with my favorite tracks, bangers abound throughout and devise a record that would be the feather in the cap of many a discography. And yet…

#1. In Somniphobia (2012) — …In Somniphobia just edges into the top spot with its master-crafted auditory blitzkrieg of eclectic instruments and styles. From the slick lick that opens “Purgatorium” through the sultry sax on “Amnesia” to “Equal”‘s Moron Police-level power pop jauntiness backing the gritty refrain of ‘kill me now,’ every second of In Somniphobia exudes the peak confluence of Sigh’s intrepid creativity and musical execution. The concept of the album emboldens its soundtrack, as it explores the fragility of reality when sleep eludes or assails us. In Somniphobia deftly conjures nightmarish fluidity with constantly shifting, genre-bending while simultaneously wrangling engrossing melodies with megaton hooks. AMG Himself nailed the Iconic rating, and for my money, In Somniphobia is not only the deadliest weapon in Sigh’s arsenal, but one of the best albums this century.

Creeping Ivy

Sigh slashed their way into my life in 2022, when the bizarrely progressive strains of Shiki slaughtered my ears. Immediately, I explored much of their back catalogue, whether through the simple act of streaming (Heir to Despair, Imaginary Sonicscape) or the crapshoot destiny of crate digging (Scorn Defeat, In Somniphobia). Going through the entire Sigh discography for this ranking was a real treat—few metal bands can boast the consistent longevity and persistent creativity of Mirai Kawashima and crew. Here, AMG Faithful stands my humble offering to the inimitable Sigh!

#12. Graveward (2015) — Sigh have no bad albums, so Graveward occupying my bottom spot should not be interpreted as any sort of slight. It’s more impressive, off-the-wall stuff for sure, but it hews a bit too close to musical theater for my taste. Graveward does, like many Sigh records, grow more interesting as it goes; I especially dig the burst of orchestral blackened punk that is “Out of the Grave.” Having to follow a certain album, however, was always going to be a challenge—at this point in their storied career, Graveward feels like Sigh Sighing to me.

#11. Infidel Art (1995) — Superficially, Infidel Art seems like a marked step up from Sigh’s debut. “Izuna” and “The Zombie Terror” kick things off with kick-ass fluctuations between blackened plods, propulsive power chords, and ear-worm riffs that make the orchestral elements more central than Scorn Defeat. Gravitating towards sustained doom from “Desolation” onwards, the album ends up petering out for me in its back half. Having said that, Infidel Art portends great things to come, with “Suicidogenic” offering a late-album glimpse into Sigh’s potential for marrying macabre cinematics with metallic mobility.

#10. Heir to Despair (2018) — Shiki is the first Sigh album that, I would say, sounds like ‘modern’ metal; to my ears, Heir to Despair initiated this development. Its status as a sort of transition album makes it interesting within the band’s trajectory, but it’s also a bit tepid by Sigh standards. Going for a more patient variety of avant-garde metal, Heir possesses some killer highlights: opener “Aletheia” boasts one of the band’s most infectious riffs, “In Memories Delusional” shreds on guitar/vocal fronts, and “Homo Homini Lupus” has some sweet Phil black metal vocals. “Heresy” I–III, however, doesn’t quite cut it for me—without this (totally weird and cool) experiment in its midst, Heir to Despair might have ranked a bit higher.

#9. Scenario IV: Dread Dreams (1999) — Situated between two Sigh albums I love, Scenario IV is an album I’m intrigued by more than I love. I do enjoy it, muchly; “Infernal Cries” has some of my favorite riffing from the band, and who amongst us can resist peering “In the Mind of a Lunatic”? Getting real, though, I’ll say that Scenario IV was the first time I felt the length of a Sigh album when listening to their discography in order. Hinging between two of my top Sigh albums, Scenario IV is an album I listen to as a precursory lull of sorts (and one I can see making great leaps up my ranking upon re-listens).

#8. Hangman’s Hymn (2007) — Switching to the middle of my ranking, I’ll say this: sometimes, a first impression is a lasting impression. I Saw the World’s End before I heard Hangman’s Hymn, and what I heard was the kind of breakneck, kooky, blackened extreme metal I’d come to know and love from Sigh. Going back to the rawer original for this ranking left me equally floored; from “Introitus/Kyrie” to “Hangman’s Hymn/In Paradisum/Das Ende,” Sigh never pumps the brakes. Hangman’s Hymn didn’t necessarily need to be re-recorded, I would say, but the fact that Sigh chose to re-record it unavoidably inflects my perception of the original: great, but maybe not singular.

#7. Gallows Gallery (2005) — Seven and eight on my ranking are somewhat interchangeable, but Gallows Gallery gets the nod as, to me, the more unique mid-aughts Sigh album. If Gallows Gallery is, indeed, Sigh doing power metal, then it’s almost assuredly my favorite power metal album of all time. Guitar heroics will always put a smile on my face—”Pale Monument” and “Silver Universe” deliver the melodies, harmonies, and shred I can never get enough of. Having only clean vocals limits my enjoyment of this as a Sigh album, but when I adjust, I always have a damn good time with this record.

#6. Scorn Defeat (1993) — Scorn Defeat might be the obvious candidate as Sigh’s weakest album, as it’s the most imitative and least experimental of the bunch. Indeed, the band’s debut sounds like Venom worship with hints of the insanity to come. Growing stronger as it goes, Scorn Defeat nevertheless reveals Sigh’s potential via the harpsichord intro to “The Knell,” the incredible ivory twinkling of “Gundali,” and the choral midsection in “Taste Defeat.” Hearing Scorn Defeat early in my discovery of the Sigh discography frames my relationship with it: a harbinger of things to come that simultaneously scratches the itch for first-wave fun.

#5. Scenes from Hell (2010) — Scenes from Hell tops the middle of my ranking by wrapping bonkers mid-period Sigh in the crustier production of the early albums. Initiating the now-central fixture of Dr. Mikannibal into the fold, Scenes holds a special place in the Sigh discography, and it’s one that, for me, flirts with novelty in the best possible way. Grandiose yet gritty, the two funerals at the heart of Scenes showcase Sigh masterfully wielding orchestral elements as both central fixtures and subtle touches, never losing touch with the album’s punky black core. Hell’s soundtrack supersedes Heaven’s; this I always knew; what I didn’t know was how lively and fun this soundtrack actually is.

#4. Shiki (2022) — Shiki introduced me to the wonderfully weird world of Sigh, and it’s an album I still hold in very high regard. I tend to love progressive music that embraces enabling constraints, and Shiki sees Sigh continuing the shift they made towards relative restraint on Heir to Despair (2018) with this meditation on mortality. Getting older sucks, but it sucks a lot less with a soundtrack of killer doom riffs (“Kuroi Kage”), bitchin’ bongo solos (“Skikabane”), and jazzy noir interludes (“Mayonaka No Kaii”). Having Frédéric Leclerq and Mike Heller on board as guest musicians helps reinvigorate the band (as adding Dr. Mikannibal did on Scenes from Hell)—Shiki ascends to the top of metal modernity by enlisting top-tier veterans.

#3. Hail Horror Hail (1997) — Sigh truly became Sighcotic on their third album, the one I reach for when I want slow-burning nightmare fuel at an aesthetic distance. It took a few spins for Hail Horror Hail to fully sink its murderous hooks into me; once it did, it easily clawed its way towards the top of my ranking. Going for a more black n’ roll sound off the bat with the anthemic title track, “12 Souls” starts to give me the scaries, but “The Dead Sing” has me roving between fear and joy in a manner that can be called sublime. Hardest one to get into, most rewarding one to get into—this is my experience with Hail Horror Hail.

#2. In Somniphobia (2012) — Sorting out the Sigh discography ended up being a two-horse race, with In Somniphobia slightly falling behind my winner. I found Sigh’s ninth in my local vinyl shop (and valiantly haggled the owner down $15), and it immediately floored me with its near-perfect balance of metallic speed, grandiose classicism, jazzy swagger, and a bunch of other things. Getting the Lucid Nightmare Suite alone would’ve made this Sigh’s second best; “L’excommunication a Minuit” gets my blood boiling with its Mortal Kombat riff, while “Amongst the Phantoms of Abandoned Tumbrils” brings me down with its haunting accordion compressions. Hearing In Somniphobia on double vinyl, however, made me realize that Sides A/D are an enveloping EP of sorts—best twofer ever!

#1. Imaginary Sonicscape (2001) — Sonicscapes don’t get any more imaginary than this. In a discography where no two albums sound all that much alike, Imaginary Sonicscape truly sounds like no other Sigh record, which is precisely why it’s my favorite. Gushing about this album must be done in a concise manner, so I’ll leave it at this: “A Sunset Song” was the track that sold me on the album, full stop, and it’s still one of my favorite Sigh songs. Hearing this chaotic dreamsphere of crying corpses, Nietzschean conspiracies, and ecstatic transformations always feels like hearing it for the first time, and I love introducing people to it (metalheads, but anyone with a taste for the avant-garde).

Angry Metal Guy Staff Ranking

Combining the aforementioned analyses with the wisdom of more tenured staff, please enjoy the aggregated ranking below:

1. 1. Infidel Art (1995)
   2. Scenario IV: Dread Dreams (1999)
   3. Scorn Defeat (1993)
   4. Graveward (2015)
   5. Hail Horror Hail (1997)
   6. Heir to Despair (2018)
   7. Gallows Gallery (2005)
   8. Hangman’s Hymn (2007)
   9. Shiki (2022)
   10. Scenes from Hell (2010)
   11. Imaginary Sonicscape (2001)
   12. In Somniphobia (2012)

For any uncultured readers who need a quick study on one of the best bands in the biz, check out the below.

The life of the unpaid, overworked metal reviewer is not an easy one. The reviewing collective at AMG lurches from one new release to the next, errors and n00bs strewn in our wake. But what if, once in a while, the collective paused to take stock and consider the discography of those bands that shaped many a taste? What if multiple aspects of the AMG collective personality shared with the slavering masses their personal rankings of that discography, and what if the rest of the personality used a Google sheet some kind of dark magic to produce an official guide to, and an all-around definitive aggregated ranking of, that band’s entire discography? Well, if that happened, we imagine it would look something like this…

For my money, Japan’s Sigh reigns uncontested as the standard for avant-garde metal, resting on a throne forged from a stellar back catalogue over thirty years in the making. Though the band has mustered an appreciable following, how Sigh isn’t a much bigger deal in the metalsphere boggles the mind. From modest, key-forward black metal roots to totally unhinged, free-for-all arrangements, Sigh never holds back from the extraordinary visions mastermind Mirai Kawashima wields. Fully integrating orchestral might, from winds, strings and brass to sundry keys the world over, Sigh’s discography consistently challenges the definitions and boundaries of metal.

With new album Goh-Ka arriving soon, we here at Angry Metal Guy felt compelled to honor this legendary and influential act with due consideration and a thoughtful dissertation. Whether you’re new to Sigh’s oddball antics or a longtime subscriber to their wonderfully outlandish hijinks, you can’t go wrong diving into any part of the band’s history. But in case you don’t want to jump in blind, outlined below is our definitive guide to appreciating one of metal’s most remarkable personalities.

– Grin Reaper

The Rankings

Grin Reaper

Each release within Sigh’s discography is unique, and as I weigh any one album against the others, I find myself categorizing each based on what instruments or styles feature most prominently. Imaginary Sonicscape indulges in keys and synths, Scenes from Hell spotlights big fat brass, and Scenario IV lumbers with thunderous umbrage. Yet no matter the prevailing mood, Sigh’s phasers are set to thrill. This has been a difficult ranking to assess and assemble, but also an incredibly rewarding one since I got to spend so much time blasting cherished records. At the very least, I hope reading this inspires you to either discover or revisit an unquestionably impeccable discography.

#12. Scorn Defeat (1993) — Sigh’s debut, Scorn Defeat sits squarely under the black metal banner while manifesting in utterly different ways than the burgeoning second wave fomenting in Norway at the time. Though it’s a strong LP that exhibits plenty of character, Scorn Defeat still ranks at the bottom when assessing Sigh’s overarching canon. Mirai Kawashima’s unhinged vocals and the tremolo riffing satisfy black metal appetites, yet the key-driven dirge of “Gundali” that morphs into a captivating piano feature and the crawling trudges in “Ready for the Final War” and “Taste Defeat” completely subvert expectations of the genre. Although interesting ideas reside on Scorn Defeat, I rarely return to it unless I’m listening to Sigh’s discography in full.

#11. Infidel Art (1995) — Picking up where Scorn Defeat left off, Infidel Art finds Sigh writing almost exclusively long-form tracks, with only “Suicidogenic” clocking under the eight-minute mark. Though the girthy durations don’t weigh down the front of the album, by the time “The Last Elegy” arrives on the heels of “Desolation,” Infidel Art begins to buckle. Luckily, “Suicidogenic” restores momentum, beginning with a flowery piano ballad supported by uplifting strings when a sinister chord progression waylays the build and diverts into a balls-out blackened thrasher that ends on the coy grace of a forlorn flute. The track presages Sigh’s unconventional song structures that would become an enduring hallmark of their sound, and the tandem of “Suicidogenic” and “Beyond Centuries” defines the best ending duo in Sigh’s discography until Gallows Gallery.

#10. Scenario IV: Dread Dreams (1999) — Though lively moments dot Scenario IV: Dead Dreams, Sigh’s fourth LP frequently decelerates to lurching paces. On one hand, this gives songs like “Diabolic Suicide,” “Infernal Cries,” and “Iconoclasm in the 4th Desert” time to breathe. On the other, the accumulation of doomy moments dampens Scenario IV’s momentum, particularly during the album’s back half. Even so, I enjoy listening to this bridge between early Sigh’s blackened roots and the experimental mayhem that came after. I also admire the creative programming employed by Kawashima and its enmeshment within Scenario IV’s other elements, foreshadowing Imaginary Sonicscape’s untamed ingenuity. Also, that guitar solo on “Severed Ways” is magnificent. In all, Scenario IV presents beautiful and bestial moments that often excite but occasionally drag.

#9. Hail Horror Hail (1997) — Hail Horror Hail rips straight outta hell from the start, with the title track slinging classic rock riffs, punky snarls, and a string-and-flute interlude to rousing effect. It’s the album where Sigh properly inaugurates the inclusion of diverse instrumentation and psychedelia that Scenario IV augmented and Imaginary Sonicscape fully realized. The airy flute interplay with distorted guitar on “42 49” and the bizarre synth injections on “12 Souls” enrich the album’s fore with unconventional depth, but Hail’s middle sags a tad before “Curse of Izanagi” fully reignites my interest with unorthodox cinematic drama. Hail Horror Hail would be a top treasure in most discographies, yet such is Sigh’s burden and a testament to the quality of their other albums.

#8. Graveward (2015) — Inspired by classic Italian horror films and their soundtracks, Graveward embodies both a raw, DIY aesthetic and grandiose-to-the-point-of-camp schtick. More than most albums in Sigh’s oeuvre, Graveward splits fan opinions given its relatively scaled-back flamboyance, but I think this is a disservice to what Sigh accomplishes here. I largely attribute this attitude to following In Somniphobia, an impossible charge for a band putting out a new record after their last one met universal acclaim. Rather than outdoing themselves by going bigger, Kawashima et al. shifted to a direction that toes the line between garage rock spunk and their signature blend of orchestral shenanigans. Although the album might seem underwhelming relative to Sigh’s other records, “Kaedit Nos Pestis,” “The Tombfiller,” and “The Casketburner” supply hooks aplenty and catchy refrains that separate Graveward above their early era, while “Graveward” and “The Trial by the Dead” radiate lovable old-school cinematic pomp.

#7. Gallows Gallery (2005) — There’s something about Gallows Gallery’s LoFi aesthetic that brings a smile to my face. The raw production and drastic shift in direction following Imaginary Sonicscape proved divisive, particularly for Sigh’s label at the time, given they refused to distribute the album.1 It’s an altogether different beast than what came before, leaning into blues-tinged and psychedelic rock arrangements that recall a bizarre cross-section of Pink Floyd, The Animals, and a dash of Rob Zombie. The album also flies by, making it a quick romp with singalong bops. With the benefit of hindsight, it’s easier to see the threads that tie Gallows Gallery not just to its predecessor, but to the future journeys Sigh would guide listeners through. Ultimately, Gallows Gallery serves as a transition album, even for a band that constantly reinvents itself, and proves a kooky, succinct platter that hemorrhages fun.

#6. Heir to Despair (2018) — As Kronos detailed in his review of Heir to Despair, Sigh’s eleventh album finds them at their most direct and stripped down. This direction began on Graveward, but Heir to Despair further dials down the weird in favor of a more straightforward, if still offbeat, metal record. While this might seem a disappointment to some fans, hearing Sigh take on a less variegated platter allowed them to shine in a new light. “Homo Homini Lupus” rings with Maidenesque grandeur while “In Memories Delusional” instantly recalls Ozzy classic “Bark at the Moon,” at least before Mirai devolves into feral madman phrasing. Following Heir to Despair’s concept of a descent into madness, the album progresses in a clever thread from direct rocker in the front half to the idiosyncratic plunge into a psychological fracture during “Hands of the String Puller” and the title track. I think that Heir to Despair gets slept on because it’s Sigh’s most subtle work, but it rewards listeners who check expectations at the door and dare to Despair.

#5. Scenes from Hell (2010) — Sigh with horns! And not just the sweet, sweet sax that Dr. Mikannibal lends. Scenes from Hell boasts a bona fide mini orchestra,2 and it immediately sets Sigh’s eighth album apart from what came before. Another distinguishing factor is the sheer flexibility and audacity of their songwriting. One of Sigh’s defining characteristics is their plasticity, selecting what elements they want to use to invigorate an album and writing music around them to ensure the band remains fresh and exciting. Scenes from Hell begins with “Prelude to the Oracle,” where the brass section bounces between the raucous energies of a high school band section, mariachi madness, and cinematic action sequences, the latter of which gets amplified on follow-up “L’Art de Mourir” with the injection of classical strings and galloping drums. The rest of the album plays out in similar fashion, making for an excellently delectable Hellscape.

#4. Shiki (2022) — Billed as a more personal album for Mirai, Shiki ponders mortality through the lens of seasons as his autumn wanes into winter. Similar to Heir to Despair, Shiki’s instrumentation forgoes the widespread multifariousness Sigh is known for, or at least reins it in as more emphasis is placed on drums, guitars, and vocals. The latter becomes especially important given the intimacy of the subject matter. I understand academically that listeners may not always appreciate Mirai’s frantic deliveries, yet I find his acidity and bite a perfect match for the chaotic beauty of Sigh’s music. Not too much on Shiki veers from this approach, but the vocals are a touch higher in the mix and occasionally draw out in tortured howls I find particularly effective. Despite being more straightforward than many Sigh offerings, Shiki still incorporates a healthy amount of flute and keys, along with some killer shredding (“Mayonaka no Kaii”) to keep the music lively and exciting. And though I sense that Sigh always makes the music they want to, there’s an earnestness on Shiki that elevates it above the various other contenders vying for the upper echelon of their corpus.

#3. Hangman’s Hymn – Musikalische Exequien (2007)3 — Sigh goes Maiden on Hangman’s Hymn, describing the final moments and conscious thoughts of a man as he’s charged, condemned, and executed. “Hallowed Be Thy Name” is one of my all-time favorite songs, so magnifying that concept into a full-blown album presents a thrilling prospect—and boy does Sigh deliver. Though the album unfolds as a damnation of one flawed man, Hangman’s Hymn acts as a microcosm for humanity’s deserved judgment more broadly, where the solution is “Salvation in Flame.” Though bleak, Sigh furnishes this message with hellishly fun bombast. Fusing Teutonic thrash with German classical arrangements, Mirai forges an unforgettable funereal soundtrack that fumes with hellfire and musical opulence. “Inked in Blood,” “Me-Devil,” and “Salvation in Flame / Confutatis” are some of my favorite songs in Sigh’s discography, exquisitely melding the ‘ugliness’ of 80s German thrash with classical baroque underpinnings. Death never sounded so alive.

#2. Imaginary Soniscape (2001) — The first time I heard Imaginary Sonicscape, something clicked. Sigh’s fifth LP wasn’t my introduction, but it’s what cemented them as a band I would always follow. Not just a fever dream of key-drenched psychedelia,[1, Although it’s definitely that, too.] Imaginary Sonicscape swells with experimentation and an unfathomable, irresistible fearlessness. “Scarlet Dream” borrows from Andrew Lloyd Webber’s “Phantom of the Opera” with its half-step chromatic runs and adds an improbable 90s hip-hop synth, inducing a faint Faith No More undercurrent, while “A Sunset Song” meshes Beach Boys’ good vibes with smooth Michael McDonald butteriness and raw Celtic Frost edge. This thing should be a disaster, but it’s a masterpiece. A complete departure from what came before, Imaginary Sonicscape is weird yet accessible, heavy yet mellow, and an hour that disappears in a marvelous flash. Each song proves essential, and though front-loaded with my favorite tracks, bangers abound throughout and devise a record that would be the feather in the cap of many a discography. And yet…

#1. In Somniphobia (2012) — …In Somniphobia just edges into the top spot with its master-crafted auditory blitzkrieg of eclectic instruments and styles. From the slick lick that opens “Purgatorium” through the sultry sax on “Amnesia” to “Equal”‘s Moron Police-level power pop jauntiness backing the gritty refrain of ‘kill me now,’ every second of In Somniphobia exudes the peak confluence of Sigh’s intrepid creativity and musical execution. The concept of the album emboldens its soundtrack, as it explores the fragility of reality when sleep eludes or assails us. In Somniphobia deftly conjures nightmarish fluidity with constantly shifting, genre-bending while simultaneously wrangling engrossing melodies with megaton hooks. AMG Himself nailed the Iconic rating, and for my money, In Somniphobia is not only the deadliest weapon in Sigh’s arsenal, but one of the best albums this century.

Creeping Ivy

Sigh slashed their way into my life in 2022, when the bizarrely progressive strains of Shiki slaughtered my ears. Immediately, I explored much of their back catalogue, whether through the simple act of streaming (Heir to Despair, Imaginary Sonicscape) or the crapshoot destiny of crate digging (Scorn Defeat, In Somniphobia). Going through the entire Sigh discography for this ranking was a real treat—few metal bands can boast the consistent longevity and persistent creativity of Mirai Kawashima and crew. Here, AMG Faithful stands my humble offering to the inimitable Sigh!

#12. Graveward (2015) — Sigh have no bad albums, so Graveward occupying my bottom spot should not be interpreted as any sort of slight. It’s more impressive, off-the-wall stuff for sure, but it hews a bit too close to musical theater for my taste. Graveward does, like many Sigh records, grow more interesting as it goes; I especially dig the burst of orchestral blackened punk that is “Out of the Grave.” Having to follow a certain album, however, was always going to be a challenge—at this point in their storied career, Graveward feels like Sigh Sighing to me.

#11. Infidel Art (1995) — Superficially, Infidel Art seems like a marked step up from Sigh’s debut. “Izuna” and “The Zombie Terror” kick things off with kick-ass fluctuations between blackened plods, propulsive power chords, and ear-worm riffs that make the orchestral elements more central than Scorn Defeat. Gravitating towards sustained doom from “Desolation” onwards, the album ends up petering out for me in its back half. Having said that, Infidel Art portends great things to come, with “Suicidogenic” offering a late-album glimpse into Sigh’s potential for marrying macabre cinematics with metallic mobility.

#10. Heir to Despair (2018) — Shiki is the first Sigh album that, I would say, sounds like ‘modern’ metal; to my ears, Heir to Despair initiated this development. Its status as a sort of transition album makes it interesting within the band’s trajectory, but it’s also a bit tepid by Sigh standards. Going for a more patient variety of avant-garde metal, Heir possesses some killer highlights: opener “Aletheia” boasts one of the band’s most infectious riffs, “In Memories Delusional” shreds on guitar/vocal fronts, and “Homo Homini Lupus” has some sweet Phil black metal vocals. “Heresy” I–III, however, doesn’t quite cut it for me—without this (totally weird and cool) experiment in its midst, Heir to Despair might have ranked a bit higher.

#9. Scenario IV: Dread Dreams (1999) — Situated between two Sigh albums I love, Scenario IV is an album I’m intrigued by more than I love. I do enjoy it, muchly; “Infernal Cries” has some of my favorite riffing from the band, and who amongst us can resist peering “In the Mind of a Lunatic”? Getting real, though, I’ll say that Scenario IV was the first time I felt the length of a Sigh album when listening to their discography in order. Hinging between two of my top Sigh albums, Scenario IV is an album I listen to as a precursory lull of sorts (and one I can see making great leaps up my ranking upon re-listens).

#8. Hangman’s Hymn (2007) — Switching to the middle of my ranking, I’ll say this: sometimes, a first impression is a lasting impression. I Saw the World’s End before I heard Hangman’s Hymn, and what I heard was the kind of breakneck, kooky, blackened extreme metal I’d come to know and love from Sigh. Going back to the rawer original for this ranking left me equally floored; from “Introitus/Kyrie” to “Hangman’s Hymn/In Paradisum/Das Ende,” Sigh never pumps the brakes. Hangman’s Hymn didn’t necessarily need to be re-recorded, I would say, but the fact that Sigh chose to re-record it unavoidably inflects my perception of the original: great, but maybe not singular.

#7. Gallows Gallery (2005) — Seven and eight on my ranking are somewhat interchangeable, but Gallows Gallery gets the nod as, to me, the more unique mid-aughts Sigh album. If Gallows Gallery is, indeed, Sigh doing power metal, then it’s almost assuredly my favorite power metal album of all time. Guitar heroics will always put a smile on my face—”Pale Monument” and “Silver Universe” deliver the melodies, harmonies, and shred I can never get enough of. Having only clean vocals limits my enjoyment of this as a Sigh album, but when I adjust, I always have a damn good time with this record.

#6. Scorn Defeat (1993) — Scorn Defeat might be the obvious candidate as Sigh’s weakest album, as it’s the most imitative and least experimental of the bunch. Indeed, the band’s debut sounds like Venom worship with hints of the insanity to come. Growing stronger as it goes, Scorn Defeat nevertheless reveals Sigh’s potential via the harpsichord intro to “The Knell,” the incredible ivory twinkling of “Gundali,” and the choral midsection in “Taste Defeat.” Hearing Scorn Defeat early in my discovery of the Sigh discography frames my relationship with it: a harbinger of things to come that simultaneously scratches the itch for first-wave fun.

#5. Scenes from Hell (2010) — Scenes from Hell tops the middle of my ranking by wrapping bonkers mid-period Sigh in the crustier production of the early albums. Initiating the now-central fixture of Dr. Mikannibal into the fold, Scenes holds a special place in the Sigh discography, and it’s one that, for me, flirts with novelty in the best possible way. Grandiose yet gritty, the two funerals at the heart of Scenes showcase Sigh masterfully wielding orchestral elements as both central fixtures and subtle touches, never losing touch with the album’s punky black core. Hell’s soundtrack supersedes Heaven’s; this I always knew; what I didn’t know was how lively and fun this soundtrack actually is.

#4. Shiki (2022) — Shiki introduced me to the wonderfully weird world of Sigh, and it’s an album I still hold in very high regard. I tend to love progressive music that embraces enabling constraints, and Shiki sees Sigh continuing the shift they made towards relative restraint on Heir to Despair (2018) with this meditation on mortality. Getting older sucks, but it sucks a lot less with a soundtrack of killer doom riffs (“Kuroi Kage”), bitchin’ bongo solos (“Skikabane”), and jazzy noir interludes (“Mayonaka No Kaii”). Having Frédéric Leclerq and Mike Heller on board as guest musicians helps reinvigorate the band (as adding Dr. Mikannibal did on Scenes from Hell)—Shiki ascends to the top of metal modernity by enlisting top-tier veterans.

#3. Hail Horror Hail (1997) — Sigh truly became Sighcotic on their third album, the one I reach for when I want slow-burning nightmare fuel at an aesthetic distance. It took a few spins for Hail Horror Hail to fully sink its murderous hooks into me; once it did, it easily clawed its way towards the top of my ranking. Going for a more black n’ roll sound off the bat with the anthemic title track, “12 Souls” starts to give me the scaries, but “The Dead Sing” has me roving between fear and joy in a manner that can be called sublime. Hardest one to get into, most rewarding one to get into—this is my experience with Hail Horror Hail.

#2. In Somniphobia (2012) — Sorting out the Sigh discography ended up being a two-horse race, with In Somniphobia slightly falling behind my winner. I found Sigh’s ninth in my local vinyl shop (and valiantly haggled the owner down $15), and it immediately floored me with its near-perfect balance of metallic speed, grandiose classicism, jazzy swagger, and a bunch of other things. Getting the Lucid Nightmare Suite alone would’ve made this Sigh’s second best; “L’excommunication a Minuit” gets my blood boiling with its Mortal Kombat riff, while “Amongst the Phantoms of Abandoned Tumbrils” brings me down with its haunting accordion compressions. Hearing In Somniphobia on double vinyl, however, made me realize that Sides A/D are an enveloping EP of sorts—best twofer ever!

#1. Imaginary Sonicscape (2001) — Sonicscapes don’t get any more imaginary than this. In a discography where no two albums sound all that much alike, Imaginary Sonicscape truly sounds like no other Sigh record, which is precisely why it’s my favorite. Gushing about this album must be done in a concise manner, so I’ll leave it at this: “A Sunset Song” was the track that sold me on the album, full stop, and it’s still one of my favorite Sigh songs. Hearing this chaotic dreamsphere of crying corpses, Nietzschean conspiracies, and ecstatic transformations always feels like hearing it for the first time, and I love introducing people to it (metalheads, but anyone with a taste for the avant-garde).

Angry Metal Guy Staff Ranking

Combining the aforementioned analyses with the wisdom of more tenured staff, please enjoy the aggregated ranking below:

1. 1. Infidel Art (1995)
   2. Scenario IV: Dread Dreams (1999)
   3. Scorn Defeat (1993)
   4. Graveward (2015)
   5. Hail Horror Hail (1997)
   6. Heir to Despair (2018)
   7. Gallows Gallery (2005)
   8. Hangman’s Hymn (2007)
   9. Shiki (2022)
   10. Scenes from Hell (2010)
   11. Imaginary Sonicscape (2001)
   12. In Somniphobia (2012)

For any uncultured readers who need a quick study on one of the best bands in the biz, check out the below.

The life of the unpaid, overworked metal reviewer is not an easy one. The reviewing collective at AMG lurches from one new release to the next, errors and n00bs strewn in our wake. But what if, once in a while, the collective paused to take stock and consider the discography of those bands that shaped many a taste? What if multiple aspects of the AMG collective personality shared with the slavering masses their personal rankings of that discography, and what if the rest of the personality used a Google sheet some kind of dark magic to produce an official guide to, and an all-around definitive aggregated ranking of, that band’s entire discography? Well, if that happened, we imagine it would look something like this…

For my money, Japan’s Sigh reigns uncontested as the standard for avant-garde metal, resting on a throne forged from a stellar back catalogue over thirty years in the making. Though the band has mustered an appreciable following, how Sigh isn’t a much bigger deal in the metalsphere boggles the mind. From modest, key-forward black metal roots to totally unhinged, free-for-all arrangements, Sigh never holds back from the extraordinary visions mastermind Mirai Kawashima wields. Fully integrating orchestral might, from winds, strings and brass to sundry keys the world over, Sigh’s discography consistently challenges the definitions and boundaries of metal.

With new album Goh-Ka arriving soon, we here at Angry Metal Guy felt compelled to honor this legendary and influential act with due consideration and a thoughtful dissertation. Whether you’re new to Sigh’s oddball antics or a longtime subscriber to their wonderfully outlandish hijinks, you can’t go wrong diving into any part of the band’s history. But in case you don’t want to jump in blind, outlined below is our definitive guide to appreciating one of metal’s most remarkable personalities.

– Grin Reaper

The Rankings

Grin Reaper

Each release within Sigh’s discography is unique, and as I weigh any one album against the others, I find myself categorizing each based on what instruments or styles feature most prominently. Imaginary Sonicscape indulges in keys and synths, Scenes from Hell spotlights big fat brass, and Scenario IV lumbers with thunderous umbrage. Yet no matter the prevailing mood, Sigh’s phasers are set to thrill. This has been a difficult ranking to assess and assemble, but also an incredibly rewarding one since I got to spend so much time blasting cherished records. At the very least, I hope reading this inspires you to either discover or revisit an unquestionably impeccable discography.

#12. Scorn Defeat (1993) — Sigh’s debut, Scorn Defeat sits squarely under the black metal banner while manifesting in utterly different ways than the burgeoning second wave fomenting in Norway at the time. Though it’s a strong LP that exhibits plenty of character, Scorn Defeat still ranks at the bottom when assessing Sigh’s overarching canon. Mirai Kawashima’s unhinged vocals and the tremolo riffing satisfy black metal appetites, yet the key-driven dirge of “Gundali” that morphs into a captivating piano feature and the crawling trudges in “Ready for the Final War” and “Taste Defeat” completely subvert expectations of the genre. Although interesting ideas reside on Scorn Defeat, I rarely return to it unless I’m listening to Sigh’s discography in full.

#11. Infidel Art (1995) — Picking up where Scorn Defeat left off, Infidel Art finds Sigh writing almost exclusively long-form tracks, with only “Suicidogenic” clocking under the eight-minute mark. Though the girthy durations don’t weigh down the front of the album, by the time “The Last Elegy” arrives on the heels of “Desolation,” Infidel Art begins to buckle. Luckily, “Suicidogenic” restores momentum, beginning with a flowery piano ballad supported by uplifting strings when a sinister chord progression waylays the build and diverts into a balls-out blackened thrasher that ends on the coy grace of a forlorn flute. The track presages Sigh’s unconventional song structures that would become an enduring hallmark of their sound, and the tandem of “Suicidogenic” and “Beyond Centuries” defines the best ending duo in Sigh’s discography until Gallows Gallery.

#10. Scenario IV: Dread Dreams (1999) — Though lively moments dot Scenario IV: Dead Dreams, Sigh’s fourth LP frequently decelerates to lurching paces. On one hand, this gives songs like “Diabolic Suicide,” “Infernal Cries,” and “Iconoclasm in the 4th Desert” time to breathe. On the other, the accumulation of doomy moments dampens Scenario IV’s momentum, particularly during the album’s back half. Even so, I enjoy listening to this bridge between early Sigh’s blackened roots and the experimental mayhem that came after. I also admire the creative programming employed by Kawashima and its enmeshment within Scenario IV’s other elements, foreshadowing Imaginary Sonicscape’s untamed ingenuity. Also, that guitar solo on “Severed Ways” is magnificent. In all, Scenario IV presents beautiful and bestial moments that often excite but occasionally drag.

#9. Hail Horror Hail (1997) — Hail Horror Hail rips straight outta hell from the start, with the title track slinging classic rock riffs, punky snarls, and a string-and-flute interlude to rousing effect. It’s the album where Sigh properly inaugurates the inclusion of diverse instrumentation and psychedelia that Scenario IV augmented and Imaginary Sonicscape fully realized. The airy flute interplay with distorted guitar on “42 49” and the bizarre synth injections on “12 Souls” enrich the album’s fore with unconventional depth, but Hail’s middle sags a tad before “Curse of Izanagi” fully reignites my interest with unorthodox cinematic drama. Hail Horror Hail would be a top treasure in most discographies, yet such is Sigh’s burden and a testament to the quality of their other albums.

#8. Graveward (2015) — Inspired by classic Italian horror films and their soundtracks, Graveward embodies both a raw, DIY aesthetic and grandiose-to-the-point-of-camp schtick. More than most albums in Sigh’s oeuvre, Graveward splits fan opinions given its relatively scaled-back flamboyance, but I think this is a disservice to what Sigh accomplishes here. I largely attribute this attitude to following In Somniphobia, an impossible charge for a band putting out a new record after their last one met universal acclaim. Rather than outdoing themselves by going bigger, Kawashima et al. shifted to a direction that toes the line between garage rock spunk and their signature blend of orchestral shenanigans. Although the album might seem underwhelming relative to Sigh’s other records, “Kaedit Nos Pestis,” “The Tombfiller,” and “The Casketburner” supply hooks aplenty and catchy refrains that separate Graveward above their early era, while “Graveward” and “The Trial by the Dead” radiate lovable old-school cinematic pomp.

#7. Gallows Gallery (2005) — There’s something about Gallows Gallery’s LoFi aesthetic that brings a smile to my face. The raw production and drastic shift in direction following Imaginary Sonicscape proved divisive, particularly for Sigh’s label at the time, given they refused to distribute the album.1 It’s an altogether different beast than what came before, leaning into blues-tinged and psychedelic rock arrangements that recall a bizarre cross-section of Pink Floyd, The Animals, and a dash of Rob Zombie. The album also flies by, making it a quick romp with singalong bops. With the benefit of hindsight, it’s easier to see the threads that tie Gallows Gallery not just to its predecessor, but to the future journeys Sigh would guide listeners through. Ultimately, Gallows Gallery serves as a transition album, even for a band that constantly reinvents itself, and proves a kooky, succinct platter that hemorrhages fun.

#6. Heir to Despair (2018) — As Kronos detailed in his review of Heir to Despair, Sigh’s eleventh album finds them at their most direct and stripped down. This direction began on Graveward, but Heir to Despair further dials down the weird in favor of a more straightforward, if still offbeat, metal record. While this might seem a disappointment to some fans, hearing Sigh take on a less variegated platter allowed them to shine in a new light. “Homo Homini Lupus” rings with Maidenesque grandeur while “In Memories Delusional” instantly recalls Ozzy classic “Bark at the Moon,” at least before Mirai devolves into feral madman phrasing. Following Heir to Despair’s concept of a descent into madness, the album progresses in a clever thread from direct rocker in the front half to the idiosyncratic plunge into a psychological fracture during “Hands of the String Puller” and the title track. I think that Heir to Despair gets slept on because it’s Sigh’s most subtle work, but it rewards listeners who check expectations at the door and dare to Despair.

#5. Scenes from Hell (2010) — Sigh with horns! And not just the sweet, sweet sax that Dr. Mikannibal lends. Scenes from Hell boasts a bona fide mini orchestra,2 and it immediately sets Sigh’s eighth album apart from what came before. Another distinguishing factor is the sheer flexibility and audacity of their songwriting. One of Sigh’s defining characteristics is their plasticity, selecting what elements they want to use to invigorate an album and writing music around them to ensure the band remains fresh and exciting. Scenes from Hell begins with “Prelude to the Oracle,” where the brass section bounces between the raucous energies of a high school band section, mariachi madness, and cinematic action sequences, the latter of which gets amplified on follow-up “L’Art de Mourir” with the injection of classical strings and galloping drums. The rest of the album plays out in similar fashion, making for an excellently delectable Hellscape.

#4. Shiki (2022) — Billed as a more personal album for Mirai, Shiki ponders mortality through the lens of seasons as his autumn wanes into winter. Similar to Heir to Despair, Shiki’s instrumentation forgoes the widespread multifariousness Sigh is known for, or at least reins it in as more emphasis is placed on drums, guitars, and vocals. The latter becomes especially important given the intimacy of the subject matter. I understand academically that listeners may not always appreciate Mirai’s frantic deliveries, yet I find his acidity and bite a perfect match for the chaotic beauty of Sigh’s music. Not too much on Shiki veers from this approach, but the vocals are a touch higher in the mix and occasionally draw out in tortured howls I find particularly effective. Despite being more straightforward than many Sigh offerings, Shiki still incorporates a healthy amount of flute and keys, along with some killer shredding (“Mayonaka no Kaii”) to keep the music lively and exciting. And though I sense that Sigh always makes the music they want to, there’s an earnestness on Shiki that elevates it above the various other contenders vying for the upper echelon of their corpus.

#3. Hangman’s Hymn – Musikalische Exequien (2007)3 — Sigh goes Maiden on Hangman’s Hymn, describing the final moments and conscious thoughts of a man as he’s charged, condemned, and executed. “Hallowed Be Thy Name” is one of my all-time favorite songs, so magnifying that concept into a full-blown album presents a thrilling prospect—and boy does Sigh deliver. Though the album unfolds as a damnation of one flawed man, Hangman’s Hymn acts as a microcosm for humanity’s deserved judgment more broadly, where the solution is “Salvation in Flame.” Though bleak, Sigh furnishes this message with hellishly fun bombast. Fusing Teutonic thrash with German classical arrangements, Mirai forges an unforgettable funereal soundtrack that fumes with hellfire and musical opulence. “Inked in Blood,” “Me-Devil,” and “Salvation in Flame / Confutatis” are some of my favorite songs in Sigh’s discography, exquisitely melding the ‘ugliness’ of 80s German thrash with classical baroque underpinnings. Death never sounded so alive.

#2. Imaginary Soniscape (2001) — The first time I heard Imaginary Sonicscape, something clicked. Sigh’s fifth LP wasn’t my introduction, but it’s what cemented them as a band I would always follow. Not just a fever dream of key-drenched psychedelia,[1, Although it’s definitely that, too.] Imaginary Sonicscape swells with experimentation and an unfathomable, irresistible fearlessness. “Scarlet Dream” borrows from Andrew Lloyd Webber’s “Phantom of the Opera” with its half-step chromatic runs and adds an improbable 90s hip-hop synth, inducing a faint Faith No More undercurrent, while “A Sunset Song” meshes Beach Boys’ good vibes with smooth Michael McDonald butteriness and raw Celtic Frost edge. This thing should be a disaster, but it’s a masterpiece. A complete departure from what came before, Imaginary Sonicscape is weird yet accessible, heavy yet mellow, and an hour that disappears in a marvelous flash. Each song proves essential, and though front-loaded with my favorite tracks, bangers abound throughout and devise a record that would be the feather in the cap of many a discography. And yet…

#1. In Somniphobia (2012) — …In Somniphobia just edges into the top spot with its master-crafted auditory blitzkrieg of eclectic instruments and styles. From the slick lick that opens “Purgatorium” through the sultry sax on “Amnesia” to “Equal”‘s Moron Police-level power pop jauntiness backing the gritty refrain of ‘kill me now,’ every second of In Somniphobia exudes the peak confluence of Sigh’s intrepid creativity and musical execution. The concept of the album emboldens its soundtrack, as it explores the fragility of reality when sleep eludes or assails us. In Somniphobia deftly conjures nightmarish fluidity with constantly shifting, genre-bending while simultaneously wrangling engrossing melodies with megaton hooks. AMG Himself nailed the Iconic rating, and for my money, In Somniphobia is not only the deadliest weapon in Sigh’s arsenal, but one of the best albums this century.

Creeping Ivy

Sigh slashed their way into my life in 2022, when the bizarrely progressive strains of Shiki slaughtered my ears. Immediately, I explored much of their back catalogue, whether through the simple act of streaming (Heir to Despair, Imaginary Sonicscape) or the crapshoot destiny of crate digging (Scorn Defeat, In Somniphobia). Going through the entire Sigh discography for this ranking was a real treat—few metal bands can boast the consistent longevity and persistent creativity of Mirai Kawashima and crew. Here, AMG Faithful stands my humble offering to the inimitable Sigh!

#12. Graveward (2015) — Sigh have no bad albums, so Graveward occupying my bottom spot should not be interpreted as any sort of slight. It’s more impressive, off-the-wall stuff for sure, but it hews a bit too close to musical theater for my taste. Graveward does, like many Sigh records, grow more interesting as it goes; I especially dig the burst of orchestral blackened punk that is “Out of the Grave.” Having to follow a certain album, however, was always going to be a challenge—at this point in their storied career, Graveward feels like Sigh Sighing to me.

#11. Infidel Art (1995) — Superficially, Infidel Art seems like a marked step up from Sigh’s debut. “Izuna” and “The Zombie Terror” kick things off with kick-ass fluctuations between blackened plods, propulsive power chords, and ear-worm riffs that make the orchestral elements more central than Scorn Defeat. Gravitating towards sustained doom from “Desolation” onwards, the album ends up petering out for me in its back half. Having said that, Infidel Art portends great things to come, with “Suicidogenic” offering a late-album glimpse into Sigh’s potential for marrying macabre cinematics with metallic mobility.

#10. Heir to Despair (2018) — Shiki is the first Sigh album that, I would say, sounds like ‘modern’ metal; to my ears, Heir to Despair initiated this development. Its status as a sort of transition album makes it interesting within the band’s trajectory, but it’s also a bit tepid by Sigh standards. Going for a more patient variety of avant-garde metal, Heir possesses some killer highlights: opener “Aletheia” boasts one of the band’s most infectious riffs, “In Memories Delusional” shreds on guitar/vocal fronts, and “Homo Homini Lupus” has some sweet Phil black metal vocals. “Heresy” I–III, however, doesn’t quite cut it for me—without this (totally weird and cool) experiment in its midst, Heir to Despair might have ranked a bit higher.

#9. Scenario IV: Dread Dreams (1999) — Situated between two Sigh albums I love, Scenario IV is an album I’m intrigued by more than I love. I do enjoy it, muchly; “Infernal Cries” has some of my favorite riffing from the band, and who amongst us can resist peering “In the Mind of a Lunatic”? Getting real, though, I’ll say that Scenario IV was the first time I felt the length of a Sigh album when listening to their discography in order. Hinging between two of my top Sigh albums, Scenario IV is an album I listen to as a precursory lull of sorts (and one I can see making great leaps up my ranking upon re-listens).

#8. Hangman’s Hymn (2007) — Switching to the middle of my ranking, I’ll say this: sometimes, a first impression is a lasting impression. I Saw the World’s End before I heard Hangman’s Hymn, and what I heard was the kind of breakneck, kooky, blackened extreme metal I’d come to know and love from Sigh. Going back to the rawer original for this ranking left me equally floored; from “Introitus/Kyrie” to “Hangman’s Hymn/In Paradisum/Das Ende,” Sigh never pumps the brakes. Hangman’s Hymn didn’t necessarily need to be re-recorded, I would say, but the fact that Sigh chose to re-record it unavoidably inflects my perception of the original: great, but maybe not singular.

#7. Gallows Gallery (2005) — Seven and eight on my ranking are somewhat interchangeable, but Gallows Gallery gets the nod as, to me, the more unique mid-aughts Sigh album. If Gallows Gallery is, indeed, Sigh doing power metal, then it’s almost assuredly my favorite power metal album of all time. Guitar heroics will always put a smile on my face—”Pale Monument” and “Silver Universe” deliver the melodies, harmonies, and shred I can never get enough of. Having only clean vocals limits my enjoyment of this as a Sigh album, but when I adjust, I always have a damn good time with this record.

#6. Scorn Defeat (1993) — Scorn Defeat might be the obvious candidate as Sigh’s weakest album, as it’s the most imitative and least experimental of the bunch. Indeed, the band’s debut sounds like Venom worship with hints of the insanity to come. Growing stronger as it goes, Scorn Defeat nevertheless reveals Sigh’s potential via the harpsichord intro to “The Knell,” the incredible ivory twinkling of “Gundali,” and the choral midsection in “Taste Defeat.” Hearing Scorn Defeat early in my discovery of the Sigh discography frames my relationship with it: a harbinger of things to come that simultaneously scratches the itch for first-wave fun.

#5. Scenes from Hell (2010) — Scenes from Hell tops the middle of my ranking by wrapping bonkers mid-period Sigh in the crustier production of the early albums. Initiating the now-central fixture of Dr. Mikannibal into the fold, Scenes holds a special place in the Sigh discography, and it’s one that, for me, flirts with novelty in the best possible way. Grandiose yet gritty, the two funerals at the heart of Scenes showcase Sigh masterfully wielding orchestral elements as both central fixtures and subtle touches, never losing touch with the album’s punky black core. Hell’s soundtrack supersedes Heaven’s; this I always knew; what I didn’t know was how lively and fun this soundtrack actually is.

#4. Shiki (2022) — Shiki introduced me to the wonderfully weird world of Sigh, and it’s an album I still hold in very high regard. I tend to love progressive music that embraces enabling constraints, and Shiki sees Sigh continuing the shift they made towards relative restraint on Heir to Despair (2018) with this meditation on mortality. Getting older sucks, but it sucks a lot less with a soundtrack of killer doom riffs (“Kuroi Kage”), bitchin’ bongo solos (“Skikabane”), and jazzy noir interludes (“Mayonaka No Kaii”). Having Frédéric Leclerq and Mike Heller on board as guest musicians helps reinvigorate the band (as adding Dr. Mikannibal did on Scenes from Hell)—Shiki ascends to the top of metal modernity by enlisting top-tier veterans.

#3. Hail Horror Hail (1997) — Sigh truly became Sighcotic on their third album, the one I reach for when I want slow-burning nightmare fuel at an aesthetic distance. It took a few spins for Hail Horror Hail to fully sink its murderous hooks into me; once it did, it easily clawed its way towards the top of my ranking. Going for a more black n’ roll sound off the bat with the anthemic title track, “12 Souls” starts to give me the scaries, but “The Dead Sing” has me roving between fear and joy in a manner that can be called sublime. Hardest one to get into, most rewarding one to get into—this is my experience with Hail Horror Hail.

#2. In Somniphobia (2012) — Sorting out the Sigh discography ended up being a two-horse race, with In Somniphobia slightly falling behind my winner. I found Sigh’s ninth in my local vinyl shop (and valiantly haggled the owner down $15), and it immediately floored me with its near-perfect balance of metallic speed, grandiose classicism, jazzy swagger, and a bunch of other things. Getting the Lucid Nightmare Suite alone would’ve made this Sigh’s second best; “L’excommunication a Minuit” gets my blood boiling with its Mortal Kombat riff, while “Amongst the Phantoms of Abandoned Tumbrils” brings me down with its haunting accordion compressions. Hearing In Somniphobia on double vinyl, however, made me realize that Sides A/D are an enveloping EP of sorts—best twofer ever!

#1. Imaginary Sonicscape (2001) — Sonicscapes don’t get any more imaginary than this. In a discography where no two albums sound all that much alike, Imaginary Sonicscape truly sounds like no other Sigh record, which is precisely why it’s my favorite. Gushing about this album must be done in a concise manner, so I’ll leave it at this: “A Sunset Song” was the track that sold me on the album, full stop, and it’s still one of my favorite Sigh songs. Hearing this chaotic dreamsphere of crying corpses, Nietzschean conspiracies, and ecstatic transformations always feels like hearing it for the first time, and I love introducing people to it (metalheads, but anyone with a taste for the avant-garde).

Angry Metal Guy Staff Ranking

Combining the aforementioned analyses with the wisdom of more tenured staff, please enjoy the aggregated ranking below:

1. 1. Infidel Art (1995)
   2. Scenario IV: Dread Dreams (1999)
   3. Scorn Defeat (1993)
   4. Graveward (2015)
   5. Hail Horror Hail (1997)
   6. Heir to Despair (2018)
   7. Gallows Gallery (2005)
   8. Hangman’s Hymn (2007)
   9. Shiki (2022)
   10. Scenes from Hell (2010)
   11. Imaginary Sonicscape (2001)
   12. In Somniphobia (2012)

For any uncultured readers who need a quick study on one of the best bands in the biz, check out the below.

https://www.europesays.com/ie/669942/ Fog Wall – Gloomweaver Review #2026 #40 #AmericanMetal #DeathMetal #Éire #Entertainment #FogWall #Gloomweaver #IE #Ireland #MorbidAngel #Music #Necropanther #Review #Reviews #Sandvvitch #SelfRelease #Sep26 #TheBlackDahliaMurder #TypeONegative #Warbringer

Drawing from metal’s perennial fantasy touchstone—Lord of the Rings—with the genre’s new favorite fantasy—the Fromsoftware game catalog1—Fog Wall make their independent death metal debut with Gloomweaver. Formed by two lifelong friends and Sandvvitch bandmates, vocalist Zak Brady and vocalist/bassist/overall-sound-guy Alex Malmquist (ex-Warbringer) wove Gloomweaver out of “their love of crushing evil riffs and heavy bass tones,” a fondness I’m sure is common among the greater AMG readership. Joined by guitarist Shagrat “Quincy” Gorbag and drummer Logan Griggs, Fog Wall aim to whip up heck with this passion project. But is this a passing thing, Gloomweaver, or does its soul have the strength to keep the fire lit?

If you decide to step through the Fog Wall, you’d best steel yourself; Gloomweaver hits hard and sticks deep. Striking with the old-school grit of Morbid Angel, muscle and immediacy of The Black Dahlia Murder, and the snarling ferocity of Necropanther, Fog Wall punch well above their weight. Many of Gloomweaver’s riffs feel irresponsible. The neanderthalic, brown-noted bulldozer grooves of “Knife, Sting, Tooth,” “Mazarbul (Desolation),” and “Manor of Ensnarement” tap into a primal need for heavy things to hit other heavy things. When “Fleshpot Ritual” hits its breakdown or “Frantic Orb Wielder” reaches its post-sample groove,2 heads will roll. Brady and Malmquist’s vocals make for a slobbering two-headed beast, wetly belching screams, gurgles, and growls matched in savagery only by Malmquist’s grotesque, capital-PH PHat bass wreaking havoc across Gloomweaver. Fog Wall is a band that just gets the minutiae of what makes death metal devastating, and are poised to use said minutiae to rip new ones with great urgency via Gloomweaver.

Fog Wall are no mere conjurors of cheap brutality, but come armed with plentiful eccentricity. There’s a blackened edge to Fog Wall—see the twin tremolos of “The Accursed” or the icy synths and blast-beated turn in “Strangling Gloom”—lending a density and sinister bent that’s supercharged by their superb death metal heft. But more surprisingly, the sleazy swing of Type O Negative manifests in musty doom riffing on “Manor of Ensnarement,” muscular group vocal “hoo”s on “Fleshpot Ritual,” and—no duh—the entirety of the Type O cover “The Profit of Doom (Medley).” Gloomweaver can verge into tech-death on speedy, tweedily-dweedily cuts like “Mazarbul (Desolation)” and “Frantic Orb Wielder,” and their Necropantheresque snarl lends a thrashy bite to everything.3 Finally, Fog Wall know how to sample. Clips from the LotR movie trilogy and Fromsoftware games briefly and succinctly establish setting and tone (“Manor of Ensnarement,” “Traverse”) and cue mid-song shifts with serious aplomb [“Mazarbul (Desolation),” “Frantic Orb Wielder”] bolstering Gloomweaver as an artful and thematically rich record as well as a delightfully heavy one.

Fog Wall’s songwriting is tight and thoughtful, but it’s not without its hiccups. Gloomweaver is a well-edited record, with every song focused and impactful and nothing running unbearably long. They even cut “The Profit of Doom (Medley)” almost in half from its original runtime. More importantly, nothing’s cut too short either, as even quick cuts like “Frantic Orb Wielder” and “Strangling Gloom” sound full and fully realized. But both “The Accursed” and “Belching Black Vapors” start strong and somewhat lose steam by the end, with the former lacking as many twists as usual and the latter seemingly entering into its ending phase halfway through. Gloomweaver’s weakest moment unfortunately comes with its finale in “Traverse,” where its slower pace loses much of the album’s previous vitality, and a tastefully doomy bass line and name-dropping “FOG WALL” chorus can’t bring the fire back as hot as on prior tracks. These few pacing issues are worth noting, though in no way do they detract from Fog Wall’s electrifying presence and smartly-written tunes.

Gloomweaver is fire. A gross display of joyously seething deathly goodness, Fog Wall killed it with their debut. Like the stories of their fantasy inspirations, the ordeal of any independent artistic process is long, tiresome, and uphill; this bunch of chums made it look effortless. If you like death metal, you probably like this album. Not all who wander are lost, but if Gloomweaver isn’t where you’re headed, then get it together, step through the Fog Wall, and let them take you to a cold, dark, and decidedly ungentle place today.4

Rating: Great!
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps MP3
Label: Self-Release
Website: fogwallnv.bandcamp.com | facebook.com
Releases Worldwide: September 4th, 2026

Februus – Construction of Conflict Review

Named after the Etruscan god of the underworld, the one-man Swedish death metal band Februus is as cavernous,…
#NewsBeep #News #US #USA #UnitedStates #UnitedStatesOfAmerica #Music #2026 #3.5 #ArtificalBrain #BloodIncantation #ConstructionofConflict #DeathMetal #Entertainment #Exhumed #Februus #ProgressiveDeath #review #reviews #Sep26 #SwedishMetal #TranscendingObscurity
https://www.newsbeep.com/us/834245/

Februus – Construction of Conflict Review

Named after the Etruscan god of the underworld, the one-man Swedish death metal band Februus is as cavernous,…
#NewsBeep #News #US #USA #UnitedStates #UnitedStatesOfAmerica #Music #2026 #3.5 #ArtificalBrain #BloodIncantation #ConstructionofConflict #DeathMetal #Entertainment #Exhumed #Februus #ProgressiveDeath #review #reviews #Sep26 #SwedishMetal #TranscendingObscurity
https://www.newsbeep.com/us/834245/

https://www.europesays.com/uk/1182528/ Februus – Construction of Conflict Review #2026 #35 #ArtificalBrain #BloodIncantation #ConstructionOfConflict #DeathMetal #Entertainment #Exhumed #Februus #music #ProgressiveDeath #Review #Reviews #Sep26 #SwedishMetal #TranscendingObscurity #UK #UnitedKingdom

Named after the Etruscan god of the underworld, the one-man Swedish death metal band Februus is as cavernous, esoteric, and terrifying as its namesake. Their previous record, Surveillance Orgy, was a whirlwind of dizzying riffs, bellowing, indecipherable vocals, and proggy tangents. Februus’ unique blend of Artificial Brain-esque zaniness with the raw aggression of Exhumed made an impact, and Surveillance Orgy was one of my favorite records of 2024, seeing repeated spins up until their latest, Construction of Conflict. More than ready to bend the knee before the underground one, I was ready to trust my soul to Februus’ second outing, but is it truly worthy of worship?

Februus is a solo artist from Sweden who provides nearly every element of the band outside the album art (even that is done by a family member). I say nearly because that does not extend to the drumming, which is provided through programming. For a solo project, I understand the necessity of such tools and that there is definitely an artistry to how you use them. Februus does its best to make the drums sound natural and aligned with the sonic signature of the rest of their work, and without knowing the drums were programmed, one would be hard-pressed to tell. Ideally though, I would love to see the band pick up a drummer who could go toe-to-toe with the other instruments. The real star here is the guitar, and Construction of Conflict, like Surveillance Orgy, is stuffed to bursting with pirouetting riffage, odd-timing, and progressive alchemy. One Februus record has more riffs than most bands have in their entire catalog, and Andreas Karlsson’s (Februus himself) indecipherable vocals add an arcane element that brings to mind the weirdest parts of Blood Incantation.

Februus pushes listeners with dense instrumentation and challenging vocals, making for a listen that is rewarding, bewildering, and time-consuming to pick apart. Riffs that grab you don’t stay for long, only to be replaced by an ever wilder maelstrom of cacophonous vocals and crunchy guitar heroics. The composition of Construction of Conflict will no doubt be divisive, and it defies logic as it is simultaneously wonderful mood music that also deserves your undivided attention. It is easy to get lost in the haunting tones and thick atmosphere, lulling you into a sort of death metal trance. Spend a second to focus on any moment, and you will be hit in the face with a memorable riff or an alluring chunk of atmosphere.

Construction of Conflict’s biggest issue is just how many ideas are in every track. While the production and guitar tone keep things incredibly consistent-sounding, a few throughline riffs would do much to give the listener anchors in the storm that is Februus. I would love to see the band focus on creating some earworms that I know it is more than capable of, as well as mixing up tracks conceptually. For the next record, some sub-three-minute rippers alongside the fifteen-minute epics of Surveillance Orgy would be a welcome change of pace. Despite none of the tracks going far past the five-minute mark, their devotion to density leaves them feeling surprisingly samey at times, and Karlsson’s vocals only serve to further blend Februus into a soup of carnage. Construction of Conflict relies on the strength of its instrumentation, which is undoubtedly impressive, but it never quite reaches the ecstatic heights of Surveillance orgy.

Construction of Conflict will surely be an acquired taste, and what you pull from Februus will vary from listener to listener. If you don’t mind not understanding a single word out of Andreas Karlsson’s mouth, and take the time to let the abstruse songs whisk you away to a truly alien land, Construction of Conflict can be frequently astounding. Februus pulls much inspiration from the ills of modern society, and if the goal is to draw to mind how obtuse, monolithic, and devious our ruling bodies and systemic structures can be, then it more than delivers on that idea.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Transcending Obscurity Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: September 4th, 2026

Named after the Etruscan god of the underworld, the one-man Swedish death metal band Februus is as cavernous, esoteric, and terrifying as its namesake. Their previous record, Surveillance Orgy, was a whirlwind of dizzying riffs, bellowing, indecipherable vocals, and proggy tangents. Februus’ unique blend of Artificial Brain-esque zaniness with the raw aggression of Exhumed made an impact, and Surveillance Orgy was one of my favorite records of 2024, seeing repeated spins up until their latest, Construction of Conflict. More than ready to bend the knee before the underground one, I was ready to trust my soul to Februus’ second outing, but is it truly worthy of worship?

Februus is a solo artist from Sweden who provides nearly every element of the band outside the album art (even that is done by a family member). I say nearly because that does not extend to the drumming, which is provided through programming. For a solo project, I understand the necessity of such tools and that there is definitely an artistry to how you use them. Februus does its best to make the drums sound natural and aligned with the sonic signature of the rest of their work, and without knowing the drums were programmed, one would be hard-pressed to tell. Ideally though, I would love to see the band pick up a drummer who could go toe-to-toe with the other instruments. The real star here is the guitar, and Construction of Conflict, like Surveillance Orgy, is stuffed to bursting with pirouetting riffage, odd-timing, and progressive alchemy. One Februus record has more riffs than most bands have in their entire catalog, and Andreas Karlsson’s (Februus himself) indecipherable vocals add an arcane element that brings to mind the weirdest parts of Blood Incantation.

Februus pushes listeners with dense instrumentation and challenging vocals, making for a listen that is rewarding, bewildering, and time-consuming to pick apart. Riffs that grab you don’t stay for long, only to be replaced by an ever wilder maelstrom of cacophonous vocals and crunchy guitar heroics. The composition of Construction of Conflict will no doubt be divisive, and it defies logic as it is simultaneously wonderful mood music that also deserves your undivided attention. It is easy to get lost in the haunting tones and thick atmosphere, lulling you into a sort of death metal trance. Spend a second to focus on any moment, and you will be hit in the face with a memorable riff or an alluring chunk of atmosphere.

Construction of Conflict’s biggest issue is just how many ideas are in every track. While the production and guitar tone keep things incredibly consistent-sounding, a few throughline riffs would do much to give the listener anchors in the storm that is Februus. I would love to see the band focus on creating some earworms that I know it is more than capable of, as well as mixing up tracks conceptually. For the next record, some sub-three-minute rippers alongside the fifteen-minute epics of Surveillance Orgy would be a welcome change of pace. Despite none of the tracks going far past the five-minute mark, their devotion to density leaves them feeling surprisingly samey at times, and Karlsson’s vocals only serve to further blend Februus into a soup of carnage. Construction of Conflict relies on the strength of its instrumentation, which is undoubtedly impressive, but it never quite reaches the ecstatic heights of Surveillance orgy.

Construction of Conflict will surely be an acquired taste, and what you pull from Februus will vary from listener to listener. If you don’t mind not understanding a single word out of Andreas Karlsson’s mouth, and take the time to let the abstruse songs whisk you away to a truly alien land, Construction of Conflict can be frequently astounding. Februus pulls much inspiration from the ills of modern society, and if the goal is to draw to mind how obtuse, monolithic, and devious our ruling bodies and systemic structures can be, then it more than delivers on that idea.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Transcending Obscurity Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: September 4th, 2026

Named after the Etruscan god of the underworld, the one-man Swedish death metal band Februus is as cavernous, esoteric, and terrifying as its namesake. Their previous record, Surveillance Orgy, was a whirlwind of dizzying riffs, bellowing, indecipherable vocals, and proggy tangents. Februus’ unique blend of Artificial Brain-esque zaniness with the raw aggression of Exhumed made an impact, and Surveillance Orgy was one of my favorite records of 2024, seeing repeated spins up until their latest, Construction of Conflict. More than ready to bend the knee before the underground one, I was ready to trust my soul to Februus’ second outing, but is it truly worthy of worship?

Februus is a solo artist from Sweden who provides nearly every element of the band outside the album art (even that is done by a family member). I say nearly because that does not extend to the drumming, which is provided through programming. For a solo project, I understand the necessity of such tools and that there is definitely an artistry to how you use them. Februus does its best to make the drums sound natural and aligned with the sonic signature of the rest of their work, and without knowing the drums were programmed, one would be hard-pressed to tell. Ideally though, I would love to see the band pick up a drummer who could go toe-to-toe with the other instruments. The real star here is the guitar, and Construction of Conflict, like Surveillance Orgy, is stuffed to bursting with pirouetting riffage, odd-timing, and progressive alchemy. One Februus record has more riffs than most bands have in their entire catalog, and Andreas Karlsson’s (Februus himself) indecipherable vocals add an arcane element that brings to mind the weirdest parts of Blood Incantation.

Februus pushes listeners with dense instrumentation and challenging vocals, making for a listen that is rewarding, bewildering, and time-consuming to pick apart. Riffs that grab you don’t stay for long, only to be replaced by an ever wilder maelstrom of cacophonous vocals and crunchy guitar heroics. The composition of Construction of Conflict will no doubt be divisive, and it defies logic as it is simultaneously wonderful mood music that also deserves your undivided attention. It is easy to get lost in the haunting tones and thick atmosphere, lulling you into a sort of death metal trance. Spend a second to focus on any moment, and you will be hit in the face with a memorable riff or an alluring chunk of atmosphere.

Construction of Conflict’s biggest issue is just how many ideas are in every track. While the production and guitar tone keep things incredibly consistent-sounding, a few throughline riffs would do much to give the listener anchors in the storm that is Februus. I would love to see the band focus on creating some earworms that I know it is more than capable of, as well as mixing up tracks conceptually. For the next record, some sub-three-minute rippers alongside the fifteen-minute epics of Surveillance Orgy would be a welcome change of pace. Despite none of the tracks going far past the five-minute mark, their devotion to density leaves them feeling surprisingly samey at times, and Karlsson’s vocals only serve to further blend Februus into a soup of carnage. Construction of Conflict relies on the strength of its instrumentation, which is undoubtedly impressive, but it never quite reaches the ecstatic heights of Surveillance orgy.

Construction of Conflict will surely be an acquired taste, and what you pull from Februus will vary from listener to listener. If you don’t mind not understanding a single word out of Andreas Karlsson’s mouth, and take the time to let the abstruse songs whisk you away to a truly alien land, Construction of Conflict can be frequently astounding. Februus pulls much inspiration from the ills of modern society, and if the goal is to draw to mind how obtuse, monolithic, and devious our ruling bodies and systemic structures can be, then it more than delivers on that idea.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Transcending Obscurity Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: September 4th, 2026

Named after the Etruscan god of the underworld, the one-man Swedish death metal band Februus is as cavernous, esoteric, and terrifying as its namesake. Their previous record, Surveillance Orgy, was a whirlwind of dizzying riffs, bellowing, indecipherable vocals, and proggy tangents. Februus’ unique blend of Artificial Brain-esque zaniness with the raw aggression of Exhumed made an impact, and Surveillance Orgy was one of my favorite records of 2024, seeing repeated spins up until their latest, Construction of Conflict. More than ready to bend the knee before the underground one, I was ready to trust my soul to Februus’ second outing, but is it truly worthy of worship?

Februus is a solo artist from Sweden who provides nearly every element of the band outside the album art (even that is done by a family member). I say nearly because that does not extend to the drumming, which is provided through programming. For a solo project, I understand the necessity of such tools and that there is definitely an artistry to how you use them. Februus does its best to make the drums sound natural and aligned with the sonic signature of the rest of their work, and without knowing the drums were programmed, one would be hard-pressed to tell. Ideally though, I would love to see the band pick up a drummer who could go toe-to-toe with the other instruments. The real star here is the guitar, and Construction of Conflict, like Surveillance Orgy, is stuffed to bursting with pirouetting riffage, odd-timing, and progressive alchemy. One Februus record has more riffs than most bands have in their entire catalog, and Andreas Karlsson’s (Februus himself) indecipherable vocals add an arcane element that brings to mind the weirdest parts of Blood Incantation.

Februus pushes listeners with dense instrumentation and challenging vocals, making for a listen that is rewarding, bewildering, and time-consuming to pick apart. Riffs that grab you don’t stay for long, only to be replaced by an ever wilder maelstrom of cacophonous vocals and crunchy guitar heroics. The composition of Construction of Conflict will no doubt be divisive, and it defies logic as it is simultaneously wonderful mood music that also deserves your undivided attention. It is easy to get lost in the haunting tones and thick atmosphere, lulling you into a sort of death metal trance. Spend a second to focus on any moment, and you will be hit in the face with a memorable riff or an alluring chunk of atmosphere.

Construction of Conflict’s biggest issue is just how many ideas are in every track. While the production and guitar tone keep things incredibly consistent-sounding, a few throughline riffs would do much to give the listener anchors in the storm that is Februus. I would love to see the band focus on creating some earworms that I know it is more than capable of, as well as mixing up tracks conceptually. For the next record, some sub-three-minute rippers alongside the fifteen-minute epics of Surveillance Orgy would be a welcome change of pace. Despite none of the tracks going far past the five-minute mark, their devotion to density leaves them feeling surprisingly samey at times, and Karlsson’s vocals only serve to further blend Februus into a soup of carnage. Construction of Conflict relies on the strength of its instrumentation, which is undoubtedly impressive, but it never quite reaches the ecstatic heights of Surveillance orgy.

Construction of Conflict will surely be an acquired taste, and what you pull from Februus will vary from listener to listener. If you don’t mind not understanding a single word out of Andreas Karlsson’s mouth, and take the time to let the abstruse songs whisk you away to a truly alien land, Construction of Conflict can be frequently astounding. Februus pulls much inspiration from the ills of modern society, and if the goal is to draw to mind how obtuse, monolithic, and devious our ruling bodies and systemic structures can be, then it more than delivers on that idea.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Transcending Obscurity Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: September 4th, 2026

Named after the Etruscan god of the underworld, the one-man Swedish death metal band Februus is as cavernous, esoteric, and terrifying as its namesake. Their previous record, Surveillance Orgy, was a whirlwind of dizzying riffs, bellowing, indecipherable vocals, and proggy tangents. Februus’ unique blend of Artificial Brain-esque zaniness with the raw aggression of Exhumed made an impact, and Surveillance Orgy was one of my favorite records of 2024, seeing repeated spins up until their latest, Construction of Conflict. More than ready to bend the knee before the underground one, I was ready to trust my soul to Februus’ second outing, but is it truly worthy of worship?

Februus is a solo artist from Sweden who provides nearly every element of the band outside the album art (even that is done by a family member). I say nearly because that does not extend to the drumming, which is provided through programming. For a solo project, I understand the necessity of such tools and that there is definitely an artistry to how you use them. Februus does its best to make the drums sound natural and aligned with the sonic signature of the rest of their work, and without knowing the drums were programmed, one would be hard-pressed to tell. Ideally though, I would love to see the band pick up a drummer who could go toe-to-toe with the other instruments. The real star here is the guitar, and Construction of Conflict, like Surveillance Orgy, is stuffed to bursting with pirouetting riffage, odd-timing, and progressive alchemy. One Februus record has more riffs than most bands have in their entire catalog, and Andreas Karlsson’s (Februus himself) indecipherable vocals add an arcane element that brings to mind the weirdest parts of Blood Incantation.

Februus pushes listeners with dense instrumentation and challenging vocals, making for a listen that is rewarding, bewildering, and time-consuming to pick apart. Riffs that grab you don’t stay for long, only to be replaced by an ever wilder maelstrom of cacophonous vocals and crunchy guitar heroics. The composition of Construction of Conflict will no doubt be divisive, and it defies logic as it is simultaneously wonderful mood music that also deserves your undivided attention. It is easy to get lost in the haunting tones and thick atmosphere, lulling you into a sort of death metal trance. Spend a second to focus on any moment, and you will be hit in the face with a memorable riff or an alluring chunk of atmosphere.

Construction of Conflict’s biggest issue is just how many ideas are in every track. While the production and guitar tone keep things incredibly consistent-sounding, a few throughline riffs would do much to give the listener anchors in the storm that is Februus. I would love to see the band focus on creating some earworms that I know it is more than capable of, as well as mixing up tracks conceptually. For the next record, some sub-three-minute rippers alongside the fifteen-minute epics of Surveillance Orgy would be a welcome change of pace. Despite none of the tracks going far past the five-minute mark, their devotion to density leaves them feeling surprisingly samey at times, and Karlsson’s vocals only serve to further blend Februus into a soup of carnage. Construction of Conflict relies on the strength of its instrumentation, which is undoubtedly impressive, but it never quite reaches the ecstatic heights of Surveillance orgy.

Construction of Conflict will surely be an acquired taste, and what you pull from Februus will vary from listener to listener. If you don’t mind not understanding a single word out of Andreas Karlsson’s mouth, and take the time to let the abstruse songs whisk you away to a truly alien land, Construction of Conflict can be frequently astounding. Februus pulls much inspiration from the ills of modern society, and if the goal is to draw to mind how obtuse, monolithic, and devious our ruling bodies and systemic structures can be, then it more than delivers on that idea.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Transcending Obscurity Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: September 4th, 2026

#ADELAJAs - "UNIFIED - NETWORKS - INFORMATION -INTELLIGENCE - TECHNOLOGY - YOU! (UNIITY).
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#Sep26

#ADELAJAs - "UNIFIED - NETWORKS - INFORMATION -INTELLIGENCE - TECHNOLOGY - YOU! (UNIITY).
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----------------

ADELAJAs - "RUSSIA-UKRAINE WAR"
https://russia-ukraine.wixsite.com/the-indexed-web
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------------------
#africa
#alternativenews
#breakingnews
#dailynews
#globalnews
#infowars
#internationalnews
#latestnews
#news
#newsonline
#trending
#worldnews

#Sep26

#ADELAJAs - "UNIFIED - NETWORKS - INFORMATION -INTELLIGENCE - TECHNOLOGY - YOU! (UNIITY).
gettr access
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----------------

ADELAJAs - "RUSSIA-UKRAINE WAR"
https://russia-ukraine.wixsite.com/the-indexed-web
search
https://www.startpage.com/do/search?q=Russia+-Ukraine+War&segment=startpage.app.android
gab access
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------------------
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#Sep26

In the proliferating bustle of the AMG promo bin, citing Elder, King Buffalo, and Slift as comparable artists will absolutely grab my attention. Hence, I seized The Curse of Nephtar, the third album from French psych-rockers Pelegrin, with much excitement. Thus Spoke, however, tempered my enthusiasm with her Mixed review of the band’s previous outing. While Thus enjoyed Ways of Avicenna (2023) for its groovin’ riffs and hooky choruses, she found these to be fleeting moments on an incoherent album.1 In their press sheet, Pelegrin promise that The Curse of Nephtar ups both the catchiness and heaviness factors. Meanwhile, the album’s narrative arc—an allegory about the tragic influence of fossil fuels on the Middle East and the world at large—suggests attention to cohesion.

The aforementioned acts sonically capture The Curse of Nephtar, though a hint of originality comes through. Here’s the elevator pitch: Pelegrin sounds like Elder, King Buffalo, and Slift collaborating on the Dune soundtrack. The latter two bands stand as especially apt comparables, seeing as Pelegrin is also a power trio. In his role as guitarist, François Roze deals in mixed-mode melodies, metal-adjacent chuggery, and psychedelic solos (“Eons”). Bassist Jason Recoing possesses a rattling tone that initiates grooves (“Sun and Blood”) and builds bridges (“Price to Pay”).2 Rounding out the trio, drummer Antoine Ebel establishes the album’s chill vibe, propelling the heavier riffs with a peppery swagger when needed (“Plenty”). Seasoning Pelegrin’s Middle Eastern tonalities with what they describe as ‘a dash of Arabian spices’ are guest vocals from Halima Joy and sound effects from Mathieu Houeix. Couched in organic, airy production, Pelegrin submits a unique enough entry into the contemporary pantheon of heavy psych rock with The Curse of Nephtar, even if the album isn’t as heavy as the band wants it to be.

In his role as vocalist, Roze vacillates between vibe-setting and hook-sinking on The Curse of Nephtar. His voice sits in a lower-to-upper middle range, sinking into the musical sand and then surfacing to attack. On standout song “In the Company of Stars,” Roze amplifies tasty psych grooves and key shifts with a catchy chorus, powered by bluesy undertones and riveting high notes. Other verses and choruses on The Curse of Nephtar, however, fail to reach these heights. Sometimes, it sounds like Roze is searching for a stable hook and not quite finding one. Because the music of Pelegrin isn’t overtly proggy, or heavy, or jammy, the vocals need to carry more memorability than they do. Still, Roze’s is not a bad performance by any means—his voice fits the psychedelic aura Pelegrin is going for.

Like its vocals, The Curse of Nephtar’s narrative generally satisfies while leaving this listener wanting more. That striking black orb on the equally striking album cover is Nephtar itself, ever-so-slowly surfacing from a prehistoric ocean to subdue all living things on earth (humans included). Initiating the narrative, “Eons” overlays voiceovers that collide with the harmonization of the irresistible main riff, conveying a sense of grandeur.3 The shift from the upbeat “In the Company of Stars” to the doomier “Drawn to Nephtar” nicely veers the narrative into sinister terrain. Meanwhile, some songs don’t live up to their narrative station. “Price to Pay” serves sweet melodies, heavy riffs, and proggy tempo shifts, but Roze doesn’t quite convey the unleashing of chaos with his vocals. The same can be said for the epic closer, “Break the Omen”; it deals out delectable riffs and wah-wah solos, but Roze doesn’t vocally bring it home. The Curse of Nephtar clocks in at a somewhat svelte 43 minutes, which is a good and bad thing here. Pelegrin should be applauded for broaching a timely eco-political concept in a timeless, economical manner. Still, a little more time and space would suit this eons-in-the-making narrative.4

In the end, The Curse of Nephtar counts as a positive step forward for Pelegrin. The band has struggled on past efforts with the meandering temptations of psych rock, but their third album feels more immediate and impactful. Still, it’s hard not to hear Pelegrin’s latest as more potential than payoff, especially in the vocal department. In a year where Elder and Slift5 have released high-quality albums,6 The Curse of Nephtar sits below these stalwarts. But Pelegrin possess the tools for greatness, and I’ll definitely be keeping tabs on them.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Ripple Music
Websites: Instagram | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: September 4th, 2026

In the proliferating bustle of the AMG promo bin, citing Elder, King Buffalo, and Slift as comparable artists will absolutely grab my attention. Hence, I seized The Curse of Nephtar, the third album from French psych-rockers Pelegrin, with much excitement. Thus Spoke, however, tempered my enthusiasm with her Mixed review of the band’s previous outing. While Thus enjoyed Ways of Avicenna (2023) for its groovin’ riffs and hooky choruses, she found these to be fleeting moments on an incoherent album.1 In their press sheet, Pelegrin promise that The Curse of Nephtar ups both the catchiness and heaviness factors. Meanwhile, the album’s narrative arc—an allegory about the tragic influence of fossil fuels on the Middle East and the world at large—suggests attention to cohesion.

The aforementioned acts sonically capture The Curse of Nephtar, though a hint of originality comes through. Here’s the elevator pitch: Pelegrin sounds like Elder, King Buffalo, and Slift collaborating on the Dune soundtrack. The latter two bands stand as especially apt comparables, seeing as Pelegrin is also a power trio. In his role as guitarist, François Roze deals in mixed-mode melodies, metal-adjacent chuggery, and psychedelic solos (“Eons”). Bassist Jason Recoing possesses a rattling tone that initiates grooves (“Sun and Blood”) and builds bridges (“Price to Pay”).2 Rounding out the trio, drummer Antoine Ebel establishes the album’s chill vibe, propelling the heavier riffs with a peppery swagger when needed (“Plenty”). Seasoning Pelegrin’s Middle Eastern tonalities with what they describe as ‘a dash of Arabian spices’ are guest vocals from Halima Joy and sound effects from Mathieu Houeix. Couched in organic, airy production, Pelegrin submits a unique enough entry into the contemporary pantheon of heavy psych rock with The Curse of Nephtar, even if the album isn’t as heavy as the band wants it to be.

In his role as vocalist, Roze vacillates between vibe-setting and hook-sinking on The Curse of Nephtar. His voice sits in a lower-to-upper middle range, sinking into the musical sand and then surfacing to attack. On standout song “In the Company of Stars,” Roze amplifies tasty psych grooves and key shifts with a catchy chorus, powered by bluesy undertones and riveting high notes. Other verses and choruses on The Curse of Nephtar, however, fail to reach these heights. Sometimes, it sounds like Roze is searching for a stable hook and not quite finding one. Because the music of Pelegrin isn’t overtly proggy, or heavy, or jammy, the vocals need to carry more memorability than they do. Still, Roze’s is not a bad performance by any means—his voice fits the psychedelic aura Pelegrin is going for.

Like its vocals, The Curse of Nephtar’s narrative generally satisfies while leaving this listener wanting more. That striking black orb on the equally striking album cover is Nephtar itself, ever-so-slowly surfacing from a prehistoric ocean to subdue all living things on earth (humans included). Initiating the narrative, “Eons” overlays voiceovers that collide with the harmonization of the irresistible main riff, conveying a sense of grandeur.3 The shift from the upbeat “In the Company of Stars” to the doomier “Drawn to Nephtar” nicely veers the narrative into sinister terrain. Meanwhile, some songs don’t live up to their narrative station. “Price to Pay” serves sweet melodies, heavy riffs, and proggy tempo shifts, but Roze doesn’t quite convey the unleashing of chaos with his vocals. The same can be said for the epic closer, “Break the Omen”; it deals out delectable riffs and wah-wah solos, but Roze doesn’t vocally bring it home. The Curse of Nephtar clocks in at a somewhat svelte 43 minutes, which is a good and bad thing here. Pelegrin should be applauded for broaching a timely eco-political concept in a timeless, economical manner. Still, a little more time and space would suit this eons-in-the-making narrative.4

In the end, The Curse of Nephtar counts as a positive step forward for Pelegrin. The band has struggled on past efforts with the meandering temptations of psych rock, but their third album feels more immediate and impactful. Still, it’s hard not to hear Pelegrin’s latest as more potential than payoff, especially in the vocal department. In a year where Elder and Slift5 have released high-quality albums,6 The Curse of Nephtar sits below these stalwarts. But Pelegrin possess the tools for greatness, and I’ll definitely be keeping tabs on them.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Ripple Music
Websites: Instagram | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: September 4th, 2026

In the proliferating bustle of the AMG promo bin, citing Elder, King Buffalo, and Slift as comparable artists will absolutely grab my attention. Hence, I seized The Curse of Nephtar, the third album from French psych-rockers Pelegrin, with much excitement. Thus Spoke, however, tempered my enthusiasm with her Mixed review of the band’s previous outing. While Thus enjoyed Ways of Avicenna (2023) for its groovin’ riffs and hooky choruses, she found these to be fleeting moments on an incoherent album.1 In their press sheet, Pelegrin promise that The Curse of Nephtar ups both the catchiness and heaviness factors. Meanwhile, the album’s narrative arc—an allegory about the tragic influence of fossil fuels on the Middle East and the world at large—suggests attention to cohesion.

The aforementioned acts sonically capture The Curse of Nephtar, though a hint of originality comes through. Here’s the elevator pitch: Pelegrin sounds like Elder, King Buffalo, and Slift collaborating on the Dune soundtrack. The latter two bands stand as especially apt comparables, seeing as Pelegrin is also a power trio. In his role as guitarist, François Roze deals in mixed-mode melodies, metal-adjacent chuggery, and psychedelic solos (“Eons”). Bassist Jason Recoing possesses a rattling tone that initiates grooves (“Sun and Blood”) and builds bridges (“Price to Pay”).2 Rounding out the trio, drummer Antoine Ebel establishes the album’s chill vibe, propelling the heavier riffs with a peppery swagger when needed (“Plenty”). Seasoning Pelegrin’s Middle Eastern tonalities with what they describe as ‘a dash of Arabian spices’ are guest vocals from Halima Joy and sound effects from Mathieu Houeix. Couched in organic, airy production, Pelegrin submits a unique enough entry into the contemporary pantheon of heavy psych rock with The Curse of Nephtar, even if the album isn’t as heavy as the band wants it to be.

In his role as vocalist, Roze vacillates between vibe-setting and hook-sinking on The Curse of Nephtar. His voice sits in a lower-to-upper middle range, sinking into the musical sand and then surfacing to attack. On standout song “In the Company of Stars,” Roze amplifies tasty psych grooves and key shifts with a catchy chorus, powered by bluesy undertones and riveting high notes. Other verses and choruses on The Curse of Nephtar, however, fail to reach these heights. Sometimes, it sounds like Roze is searching for a stable hook and not quite finding one. Because the music of Pelegrin isn’t overtly proggy, or heavy, or jammy, the vocals need to carry more memorability than they do. Still, Roze’s is not a bad performance by any means—his voice fits the psychedelic aura Pelegrin is going for.

Like its vocals, The Curse of Nephtar’s narrative generally satisfies while leaving this listener wanting more. That striking black orb on the equally striking album cover is Nephtar itself, ever-so-slowly surfacing from a prehistoric ocean to subdue all living things on earth (humans included). Initiating the narrative, “Eons” overlays voiceovers that collide with the harmonization of the irresistible main riff, conveying a sense of grandeur.3 The shift from the upbeat “In the Company of Stars” to the doomier “Drawn to Nephtar” nicely veers the narrative into sinister terrain. Meanwhile, some songs don’t live up to their narrative station. “Price to Pay” serves sweet melodies, heavy riffs, and proggy tempo shifts, but Roze doesn’t quite convey the unleashing of chaos with his vocals. The same can be said for the epic closer, “Break the Omen”; it deals out delectable riffs and wah-wah solos, but Roze doesn’t vocally bring it home. The Curse of Nephtar clocks in at a somewhat svelte 43 minutes, which is a good and bad thing here. Pelegrin should be applauded for broaching a timely eco-political concept in a timeless, economical manner. Still, a little more time and space would suit this eons-in-the-making narrative.4

In the end, The Curse of Nephtar counts as a positive step forward for Pelegrin. The band has struggled on past efforts with the meandering temptations of psych rock, but their third album feels more immediate and impactful. Still, it’s hard not to hear Pelegrin’s latest as more potential than payoff, especially in the vocal department. In a year where Elder and Slift5 have released high-quality albums,6 The Curse of Nephtar sits below these stalwarts. But Pelegrin possess the tools for greatness, and I’ll definitely be keeping tabs on them.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Ripple Music
Websites: Instagram | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: September 4th, 2026

In the proliferating bustle of the AMG promo bin, citing Elder, King Buffalo, and Slift as comparable artists will absolutely grab my attention. Hence, I seized The Curse of Nephtar, the third album from French psych-rockers Pelegrin, with much excitement. Thus Spoke, however, tempered my enthusiasm with her Mixed review of the band’s previous outing. While Thus enjoyed Ways of Avicenna (2023) for its groovin’ riffs and hooky choruses, she found these to be fleeting moments on an incoherent album.1 In their press sheet, Pelegrin promise that The Curse of Nephtar ups both the catchiness and heaviness factors. Meanwhile, the album’s narrative arc—an allegory about the tragic influence of fossil fuels on the Middle East and the world at large—suggests attention to cohesion.

The aforementioned acts sonically capture The Curse of Nephtar, though a hint of originality comes through. Here’s the elevator pitch: Pelegrin sounds like Elder, King Buffalo, and Slift collaborating on the Dune soundtrack. The latter two bands stand as especially apt comparables, seeing as Pelegrin is also a power trio. In his role as guitarist, François Roze deals in mixed-mode melodies, metal-adjacent chuggery, and psychedelic solos (“Eons”). Bassist Jason Recoing possesses a rattling tone that initiates grooves (“Sun and Blood”) and builds bridges (“Price to Pay”).2 Rounding out the trio, drummer Antoine Ebel establishes the album’s chill vibe, propelling the heavier riffs with a peppery swagger when needed (“Plenty”). Seasoning Pelegrin’s Middle Eastern tonalities with what they describe as ‘a dash of Arabian spices’ are guest vocals from Halima Joy and sound effects from Mathieu Houeix. Couched in organic, airy production, Pelegrin submits a unique enough entry into the contemporary pantheon of heavy psych rock with The Curse of Nephtar, even if the album isn’t as heavy as the band wants it to be.

In his role as vocalist, Roze vacillates between vibe-setting and hook-sinking on The Curse of Nephtar. His voice sits in a lower-to-upper middle range, sinking into the musical sand and then surfacing to attack. On standout song “In the Company of Stars,” Roze amplifies tasty psych grooves and key shifts with a catchy chorus, powered by bluesy undertones and riveting high notes. Other verses and choruses on The Curse of Nephtar, however, fail to reach these heights. Sometimes, it sounds like Roze is searching for a stable hook and not quite finding one. Because the music of Pelegrin isn’t overtly proggy, or heavy, or jammy, the vocals need to carry more memorability than they do. Still, Roze’s is not a bad performance by any means—his voice fits the psychedelic aura Pelegrin is going for.

Like its vocals, The Curse of Nephtar’s narrative generally satisfies while leaving this listener wanting more. That striking black orb on the equally striking album cover is Nephtar itself, ever-so-slowly surfacing from a prehistoric ocean to subdue all living things on earth (humans included). Initiating the narrative, “Eons” overlays voiceovers that collide with the harmonization of the irresistible main riff, conveying a sense of grandeur.3 The shift from the upbeat “In the Company of Stars” to the doomier “Drawn to Nephtar” nicely veers the narrative into sinister terrain. Meanwhile, some songs don’t live up to their narrative station. “Price to Pay” serves sweet melodies, heavy riffs, and proggy tempo shifts, but Roze doesn’t quite convey the unleashing of chaos with his vocals. The same can be said for the epic closer, “Break the Omen”; it deals out delectable riffs and wah-wah solos, but Roze doesn’t vocally bring it home. The Curse of Nephtar clocks in at a somewhat svelte 43 minutes, which is a good and bad thing here. Pelegrin should be applauded for broaching a timely eco-political concept in a timeless, economical manner. Still, a little more time and space would suit this eons-in-the-making narrative.4

In the end, The Curse of Nephtar counts as a positive step forward for Pelegrin. The band has struggled on past efforts with the meandering temptations of psych rock, but their third album feels more immediate and impactful. Still, it’s hard not to hear Pelegrin’s latest as more potential than payoff, especially in the vocal department. In a year where Elder and Slift5 have released high-quality albums,6 The Curse of Nephtar sits below these stalwarts. But Pelegrin possess the tools for greatness, and I’ll definitely be keeping tabs on them.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Ripple Music
Websites: Instagram | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: September 4th, 2026

In the proliferating bustle of the AMG promo bin, citing Elder, King Buffalo, and Slift as comparable artists will absolutely grab my attention. Hence, I seized The Curse of Nephtar, the third album from French psych-rockers Pelegrin, with much excitement. Thus Spoke, however, tempered my enthusiasm with her Mixed review of the band’s previous outing. While Thus enjoyed Ways of Avicenna (2023) for its groovin’ riffs and hooky choruses, she found these to be fleeting moments on an incoherent album.1 In their press sheet, Pelegrin promise that The Curse of Nephtar ups both the catchiness and heaviness factors. Meanwhile, the album’s narrative arc—an allegory about the tragic influence of fossil fuels on the Middle East and the world at large—suggests attention to cohesion.

The aforementioned acts sonically capture The Curse of Nephtar, though a hint of originality comes through. Here’s the elevator pitch: Pelegrin sounds like Elder, King Buffalo, and Slift collaborating on the Dune soundtrack. The latter two bands stand as especially apt comparables, seeing as Pelegrin is also a power trio. In his role as guitarist, François Roze deals in mixed-mode melodies, metal-adjacent chuggery, and psychedelic solos (“Eons”). Bassist Jason Recoing possesses a rattling tone that initiates grooves (“Sun and Blood”) and builds bridges (“Price to Pay”).2 Rounding out the trio, drummer Antoine Ebel establishes the album’s chill vibe, propelling the heavier riffs with a peppery swagger when needed (“Plenty”). Seasoning Pelegrin’s Middle Eastern tonalities with what they describe as ‘a dash of Arabian spices’ are guest vocals from Halima Joy and sound effects from Mathieu Houeix. Couched in organic, airy production, Pelegrin submits a unique enough entry into the contemporary pantheon of heavy psych rock with The Curse of Nephtar, even if the album isn’t as heavy as the band wants it to be.

In his role as vocalist, Roze vacillates between vibe-setting and hook-sinking on The Curse of Nephtar. His voice sits in a lower-to-upper middle range, sinking into the musical sand and then surfacing to attack. On standout song “In the Company of Stars,” Roze amplifies tasty psych grooves and key shifts with a catchy chorus, powered by bluesy undertones and riveting high notes. Other verses and choruses on The Curse of Nephtar, however, fail to reach these heights. Sometimes, it sounds like Roze is searching for a stable hook and not quite finding one. Because the music of Pelegrin isn’t overtly proggy, or heavy, or jammy, the vocals need to carry more memorability than they do. Still, Roze’s is not a bad performance by any means—his voice fits the psychedelic aura Pelegrin is going for.

Like its vocals, The Curse of Nephtar’s narrative generally satisfies while leaving this listener wanting more. That striking black orb on the equally striking album cover is Nephtar itself, ever-so-slowly surfacing from a prehistoric ocean to subdue all living things on earth (humans included). Initiating the narrative, “Eons” overlays voiceovers that collide with the harmonization of the irresistible main riff, conveying a sense of grandeur.3 The shift from the upbeat “In the Company of Stars” to the doomier “Drawn to Nephtar” nicely veers the narrative into sinister terrain. Meanwhile, some songs don’t live up to their narrative station. “Price to Pay” serves sweet melodies, heavy riffs, and proggy tempo shifts, but Roze doesn’t quite convey the unleashing of chaos with his vocals. The same can be said for the epic closer, “Break the Omen”; it deals out delectable riffs and wah-wah solos, but Roze doesn’t vocally bring it home. The Curse of Nephtar clocks in at a somewhat svelte 43 minutes, which is a good and bad thing here. Pelegrin should be applauded for broaching a timely eco-political concept in a timeless, economical manner. Still, a little more time and space would suit this eons-in-the-making narrative.4

In the end, The Curse of Nephtar counts as a positive step forward for Pelegrin. The band has struggled on past efforts with the meandering temptations of psych rock, but their third album feels more immediate and impactful. Still, it’s hard not to hear Pelegrin’s latest as more potential than payoff, especially in the vocal department. In a year where Elder and Slift5 have released high-quality albums,6 The Curse of Nephtar sits below these stalwarts. But Pelegrin possess the tools for greatness, and I’ll definitely be keeping tabs on them.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Ripple Music
Websites: Instagram | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: September 4th, 2026