#septicflesh — Public Fediverse posts

Immolation are the uncommon band that sits both on top of their chosen genre and outside of it simultaneously. As one of the titans of early days death metal, the natural inclination is to lump them in with all the other old school death acts from the late 80s and early 90s. While that wouldn’t be entirely wrong based on their Dawn of Possession debut, over time Immolation have evolved into something else – Still classic death metal, but much more too. And while their style can seem too opaque at times to tickle the casual OSDM lizard brain, there’s something truly primordial to their sound that exemplifies death metal like no other. They’ve also been the most consistent brand in death over the decades, releasing 11 albums of high-quality material with no duds. 2022s Acts of God saw the band move in a slightly different direction, stripping down some of their more extravagantly creative impulses and hardening around a muscular core of dissonance and punishing ugliness. Now comes Descent. What do founding members Robert Vigna and Ross Dolan have in store for us this time? You know it will be something enormous and crushing, but what else awaits your feeble ears?

In a nutshell, Descent is a continuation of what Immolation did on Acts of God, but the soundscape is now subject to a carefully curated tension between their usual penchant for brutality and dissonance and an on-and-off experimentation with a more grandiose and vaguely symphonic vibe. These diverse elements grate upon each other like opposing grindstones, and the result is often quite dramatic. Opener “These Vengeful Winds” is heavy as an anvil pyramid, crushing you beneath waves of corckscrewing, twisting riffs that feel too weighty to move, yet move they do like Cthulu’s hideous face tendrils. This is Immolation at their most basic and threatening, and it’s a grotesque joy to experience. “God’s Last Breath” delivers a crushing midtempo assault peppered with hateful guitar flourishes before lapsing into a massive stomping groove that feels dangerous and unhinged. Soon, everything goes utterly insane, and blastbeats and mind-flaying riffs try to unbalance your sanity. It’s special. It isn’t until “Bend Toward the Dark” arrives that Immolation show you all their cards. The song is pummeling and ridiculously heavy, and hidden in the swirling maelstrom is a vague SepticFlesh vibe that almost feels symphonic, but not quite. It’s strange, but it fits, and Ross Dolan extends his vocal range ever so slightly to sound more Deity-like.

Later cut, “Host” stands apart from the rest of Descent due to its unconventional and experimental approach. It feels like a fever dream in the way it leaps from idea to idea, and it can feel a bit disjointed, but it’s massive and rocks a relentlessly evil vibe that chills the bone marrow. It took several spins to “get it,” but once I got used to the strange ebb and flow, it worked more often than it didn’t. “False Ascent” is a direct, savage assault with little effort to be clever, and because of that, it hits extra hard. The closing title track is like the best moments of Immolation condensed into an almost 6-minute brain injection. It will destroy your body, but you need it nonetheless. Is everything this killer? Well, “Attriton” has many good pieces, but it doesn’t quite gel for me as a cohesive entity. Could I do without the instrumental “Banished”? Yes, as it does more to disrupt the album’s flow than add anything truly meaningful. At 42 minutes, Descent feels shorter and less overstuffed with ideas than Acts of God, and it’s easier to process. The production by Zack “Sometimes Friend o’ the Blog” Ohren is quite loud and confrontational, but less smashed than the DR 5 might suggest. The guitar tone is menacing as fuck, and the drums have a titanic force behind them. Most importantly, there’s enough cavern murk and scuzz to round out the existential dread Immolation traffics in.

I know it’s a waste of time to discuss how talented Immolation is at this point, but I’m going to anyway. Robert Vigna deserves his own wing in the Death Metal Guitarist Hall of Fame, and his strange style continues to bear rotting fruit at every turn of the thumbscrews. His playing is unlike anyone else, and his offbeat perspective on death metal riffing is why Immolation stand out as they do. He and Alex Bouks put on a clinic on how to decorate a death metal song with riff gold, and they build dark, threatening worlds as easily as you or I build a pile of dirty dishes in the sink. Ross Dolan is a tremendous death vocalist and always delivers the goods, and Steve Shalaty’s drumming is next-level insane and technical.

I agonized over how to score Descent. Ultimately, I prefer it over Acts of God, but, as with most Immolation albums, the qualitative differences are minor and come down to small personal preferences.1 It’s a metal truism that you can buy any Immolation release without fear of disappointment, and Descent will certainly please the filthy death masses. Immolation remain a rare, altered beast among other repellent horrors, painting their uniquely disturbing soundscapes across history and time.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Nuclear Blast
Websites: immolation.info | immolation.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/immolation | instagram.com/immolation_band
Releases Worldwide: April 10th, 2026

Kenstrosity

It’s been said before, but it bears repeating: Immolation need no introduction. Far and away the most consistently great act in death metal, the New York troupe forge a deadly blade with each new release, familiar in design and function but meticulously crafted to rise with distinction. A discography unmarred by blemishes or misfires ensures that no matter where your point of entry, listeners new to Immolation’s fatally sharp weaponry will find themselves summarily eviscerated in short order. Twelve albums and thirty-eight years in, Immolation nests Descent inside an already legendary catalog with astonishing ease.

Drawing from the rich pool of their own history, Immolation have little need to reference their peers for ideas or inspiration on Descent. Pulling the infernal energy of Close to a World Below (“These Vengeful Winds,” “Attrition”), merging it with the violent groove of Majesty and Decay (“The Ephemeral Curse,” “Descent”), and embedding purposeful structure into the resulting mesh by way of Atonement’s sweeping, multi-phase phrasing and intentionally scorched layers (“God’s Last Breath,” “Host”), Descent honors its ancestry in monstrous fashion. Rare is the death metal act that exudes class and elegance, but Immolation embodies those traits in Descent’s grander songwriting—particularly evocative of Communion-era SepticFlesh—which makes the whole all that much more imposing. That’s to say nothing of the riffs, which have the same verve and vitality as ever without sacrificing an iota of Immolation’s core identity—an astounding feat that needs to be heard to be believed.

Descent by Immolation

As water-cooler discussions in AMG HQ’s back alleys and seedy underbellies confirm, Descent creates an environment solely populated with muscular apex predators, leaving the staff gnashing teeth and sharpening claws to defend their favorite track as the best item on hand. Mine are “Adversary,” “Bend Towards the Dark,” and “False Ascent,” primarily because they invoke a horde of particularly fiery trem-picked leads, flourishes, and shimmers that provide a bright contrast to Immolation’s trademark deep roars, stomping motifs, and precisely punctuated percussion. Equally compelling, high-impact cuts like “The Ephemeral Curse,” “Attrition,” and gargantuan closer “Descent” boast the same or similar features, applied in other ways or in alternate locations to create varied textures and high-detail points of interest. No song proper drops the ball at any point, and at a remarkably tight 42 minutes, the album as a whole boasts ridiculous levels of immediacy and engagement.

Immediate though Descent is, time and attention are its best friends. Revisits unfurl and intensify Immolation’s latest salvo such that it effortlessly deflects distraction. Harmonized layers, multifaceted riffs, and tumbling transitions across the record expand in scope and grandeur in direct correlation to the number of times I hear it. Strict structuring and highly compartmentalized compositions loosen, relax, and bleed into rich sonic hombre, betraying an intricacy and sophistication that such blunt force instrumentation shouldn’t be capable of achieving. Even my initial misgivings towards penultimate interlude “Banished,” which feels fluffy and insubstantial at first, gained some justification as the days and weeks spent with Descent progress. What once felt like a rude interruption now feels more like a palate cleanser for the final course. Still, I could cut it from the runtime. Even though the ride to the end might feel a tad rougher for it, I am not convinced I would wholly miss the padding. My only other critique of import concerns production. While incredibly well-mixed all things considered, Descent is loud, crushed to within an inch of its life—a life that barely breathes only by the grace of meaty guitar tones and a snappy snare.

As I grow closer to this world below, I feel nothing but reverence for an act whose unflappable dedication to the death metal craft knows no equal. I am awestruck by the longevity of Immolation’s back catalog and the remarkable quality of their modern entries. Descent is no exception. It is, instead, exceptional. Taste amongst my peers polarizes to some extent as to which Immolation era earns the most flowers, but recognition of their collective elite status is universal. This twelfth album, soon upon us, perpetuates that standard and may even prove, with time, to have elevated it once again. At the very least, it ranks among my personal favorites by these New Yorkers. It is my intention, consequently, to spend every free moment basking in its consuming flame.

Rating: Great!

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

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

Kenstrosity’s Knightly Nightmare

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

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

This Used To Be Heaven by AngelMaker

ClarkKent’s Sonic Symphonics

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

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

COLOSSUS SUPREMA by BRAINBLAST

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

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

Escape the Wonderland by Gods of Gaia

Grin Reaper’s Frozen Feast

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

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

KEM by Hounds Of Bayanay

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

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

Siltskin by Blood Red Throne

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

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

Thus Spoke’s Random Revelations

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

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

Recursive Infinity by The Algorithm

Owlswald’s Holiday Scraps

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

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

Entanglement by Sun Of The Suns