#septicflesh — Public Fediverse posts

1/ #southofheaven 2026 is over. The last day was dry and sunny, started for us with #FlotsamAndJetsam (finally! they rock) #deathtoall (always awesome) and #septicflesh (a nighttime gig in a dark venue would have been a better match for their musical style though they made the most of the situation)

Rain has started to leak into the ducts as Spring gets wetter and wetter. While I’m away, vacationing in a nice, dry, cloudy place, my minions are drenched and miserable. As it should be! But I’m still keeping tabs on their progress. Just because I’m having a great time somewhere else doesn’t mean these louts don’t have a quota to meet!

And meet their quota they shall, if only barely… BEHOLD!

ClarkKent’s Sci-Fi Soundbites

Epigram // Obsolescent [March 6th, 2026 – Self Released]

Combining the melodic black metal of Thulcandra and Dissection with the symphonics of Fleshgod Apocalypse and SepticFlesh, Epigram dropped a tasty little morsel with their debut, Obsolescent. The trio from Los Angeles puts on a spirited performance that borders on thrash. Tim Cauley’s display on the kit is a dominant force as he furiously blast beats his way from one song to the next. He turns “Wrath of Betrayed” into a piece of blackened thrash and proves tireless across Obsolescent’s 27-minute runtime. The lively vocal performance of Luis Echevarria adds further to Epigram’s charm. His low growls may seem underpowered, but his delivery is energetic and fun. He’s also the source of the symphonic instrumentation, via synths, though this aspect is secondary. Sure, there’s some choral chants (“Myrmidon,” “The Usurper’s Throne”), strings (“Hour of Gods”), and other vaguely symphonic sounds, but Epigram is most focused on the blackened melodic stuff. Shadi Absi throws together some great riffs, particularly on “Empires,” a work of pure black ‘n roll. The showstopper is “Hour of Gods,” with some sweet riffs and terrific energy. This song alone makes Obsolescent a worthy spin. Rounding out the musicians is Sanjay Kumar (Inferi, Wormhole), who plays solos on “Wrath of Betrayed” and “No Sin.” This is a promising debut for an eager new band.

Kal-El // Astral Voyager Vol. 2 [March 20th, 2026 – Blues Funeral Recordings]

Sporting the greatest band name of all time, Kal-El have been blasting listeners with stoner doom since 2012. Astral Voyager Vol. 2 is the follow-up to last year’s Vol. 1, and these pyschedelians’s seventh album overall. It’s been seven years since Witches of Mars was unfairly pummeled by a Kryptonian frog, and now I’d like to do the band justice by rescuing them from our filter. On this astral voyage, you get the pleasure of listening to six songs and 42 minutes of laid-back stoner tunes with plenty of fuzzy riffs—perfect for cruising around the cosmos. Their riff-centric approach puts them in the Black Sabbath camp, and the riffs on the likes of “Juno” and “The Prophecy,” which has a “Children of the Grave” vibe, are tons of fun. Further cementing the Sabbath comp is the vocal performance of Ståle Rodvelt, who carries a resemblance to Ozzy in his delivery. Longer cuts take more exploratory routes, akin to Sleep, yet still feature plenty to get your head bobbin’. “Asteroid” opens up with some sweet riffs that sustain its near eight-minute frame, while “The Nine” will still have you singing along in the final of its ten minutes. 1 So if you are in the mood for something chill that won’t put you to sleep, something that has the riffs without the risk of elevating your blood pressure, you should spend some time with Kal-El.

Thus Spoke’s Tectonic Treat

Bong-Ra // Esoterik [March 20th, 2026 – Debemur Morti Productions]

Not having received promo, it was only upon visiting DM’s Bandcamp page while writing up Aversio Humanitatis that I realised Bong-Ra had released another album. Asked whether Esoterik would be leaning more into enigmatic doom or spiky industrial electronica, the shapeshifting Bong-Ra said “yes”. The music is built on layers of dense, gritty atmosphere undulating with bass, breakbeats, and distorted riffs. Vocals are maintained from Black Noise—half-spoken snarls blurred by noise, shifting between blunt tunefulness (“Serpentine Helix”) and gargling venom (“Machine Halo”)—but at least half of the space is devoted to the purely instrumental psychosis. The saxophone is back, adding bizarre elegance and chilling eeriness in equal measure. Sometimes, Esoterik seems to be pitting its sultry and acerbic natures against one another; that chamber jazz side can take one by surprise (“Pleasures of the Flesh,” “Duality of One”), sandwiched as it is between a more punishing industrialism, but Bong-Ra just about gets away with it. This could be down to Esoterik’s efficiency in establishing (new) grooves—rhythmic and stylistic. Opener “Harmony Cloak” dispels misgivings on its skittering electronic oddity with a chorus that strikes a stylish balance between melody and dissonance; “Machine Halo” later follows in its stride. It’s an album that earns its moniker, right down to the particular spelling, and is worth the dark diversion it requires.

Grin Reaper’s Kooky Curios

Surturian // II – Hessian Spears [March 13th, 2026 – Crawling Chaos]

A German thrash band named after the legendary fire giant and guardian of Muspelheim? And on their debut LP, they launch an unrelenting, venomous assault filled with sticky riffs and bopping bass grooves in under forty-five minutes? Sign me up! Surturian plays thrash that smacks of early Testament and Metallica fused with the epic melodies of latter-day Kreator—hell, vocalist Tim Krogull reeks of Mille’s rancorous vocals, even though his name hews closer to a Voivodian disposition. In addition to thrash influences, Surturian calls upon Maiden’s signature gallops (“Cimmerians Wrath”) and anthemic melodies (“⁠Night Stalker,” “Do What Thou Wilt”), inculcating a lofty grandeur throughout II – Hessian Spears. Further fanning Surturian’s flames, the outfit navigates a varied landscape that imbues each track with its own character while never straying too far from their core sound. Hard-hitting offensives (“Blood Witchery”), slinky licks (“Night Stalker”), and oddball songwriting (“Beneath a Dying Sky”2) unite into an album I’ve regularly returned to since discovering it. If you’re feeling unSurtain, take it from me—it’s always a good time for some Hessian aggression!

Barn // Crucibles [March 24th, 2026 – Self Released]

Thanks to a certain dude/guy in the comments section, Crucibles didn’t slip past me undetected. Despite their dubious band name, Barn dropped a humdinger slab of tech death back in March that oozes with references to Unquestionable Presence (Atheist), Focus (Cynic), and, to a lesser extent, Decrepit Birth.3 There are even moments that echo more subdued moments from recent Sallow Moth releases (“The Serpent’s Perpetual Shed”). Staccato bursts of guitar, pinch harmonics, and buttery, fretless bass glissandos epitomize what Barn offers, and they spread it thick and chunky all over Crucibles’ sixty-five-minute runtime. Rustic name notwithstanding, Barn’s latest sounds like a sci-fi adventure, supported by track names like “Black Hole Lens” and “Cymatics.” The fretless bass especially helps with the futuristic aesthetic, frictionlessly gliding through gusts of abrupt, otherworldly guitars that buffet tracks from all angles. Barn rarely offers reprieve during their unconventional onslaught, but tracks like “Forbidden Fruits,” “Cymatics,” and “The Defeater” achieve such heights that I don’t find myself needing one. In short, these Boise boys warp listeners to a different dimension on Crucibles, and though it runs a tad long, I haven’t been deterred yet from lighting up this Barnburner.

Dionysiaque // La Tourbe des Rêves [March 27th, 2026 – I, Voidhanger Records]

Dionysiaque dispenses a bizarre derivative of doom on La Tourbe des Rêves that’s sure to be equal parts captivating and divisive. Reaching into the bag of tricks defined by Cathedral, Black Sabbath, and Candlemass, Dionysiaque’s sophomore album lumbers and chugs with classic rock-inspired leads and firecracker songcraft that I find utterly enthralling. Songs like “Aaron,” “Hate Fruit,” and “The Two Headed Boy” spotlight Dionysiaque’s plaintive guitar wails, contributed by L.B. and Bruno Penserini, along with their savvy balance of somber atmospheres and rousing melodies. Buoying the guitar tandem, bassist Lethal lays down frolicking, fabulous thunder via absorbing countermelodies while drummer T.H. looses potent fills and rolls throughout. Soaring atop the instrumentation are N.C.’s unorthodox vocals, which will almost certainly be the sole determining factor in listeners’ ability to engage with La Tourbe des Rêves. His delivery recalls that of Mayhem’s Attila Csihar at his most operatically deranged, never lacking conviction yet occasionally overpowering and ostentatious. Still, I appreciate and enjoy the commitment to the unhinged performance, and although dialing it back a little would make Dionysiaque’s latest more accessible, I’ve come to love La Tourbe des Rêves without apology. So don’t be afraid to let a little love into your heart—go get debauched with Dionysiaque’s aphrodisiac.

Creeping Ivy’s Pandemonic Pleasure

Mammon’s Throne // My Body to the Worms [March 13th, 2026 – Hammerheart Records]

In advising his fellow fallen angels—recently expelled from Heaven—to turn Hell into a competing kingdom, Mammon projects that All Demons will ‘work ease out of pain / Through labor and endurance.’4 Satan doesn’t heed this advice, but the third LP from Mammon’s Throne arguably does. On My Body to the Worms, this Australian five-piece inflicts pleasurable pain upon metaldom via five filthy slabs of sludgy death-doom (plus two instrumental reprieves). Mammon’s Throne conjure Hooded Menace, Temple of Void, and (old) Worm in their proclivity for plodding tempos, swampy riffs, and gravely howls (“Elixir”). The album is also a labor of love for classic (death-) doom à la Paradise Lost and My Dying Bride, mixing gothy croons, ascendant melodicism, and haunting piano into the band’s sinister stew (“Every Day More Sickened,” “At the Threshold of Eternity”). Though the listener does need some endurance, as three of the five non-instrumentals hover in the 8–9 minute range, the record flows fluidly across an easy 42 minutes. If you ever wondered what metal in league with Mammon might sound like, give My Body to the Worms a spin.

Rain has started to leak into the ducts as Spring gets wetter and wetter. While I’m away, vacationing in a nice, dry, cloudy place, my minions are drenched and miserable. As it should be! But I’m still keeping tabs on their progress. Just because I’m having a great time somewhere else doesn’t mean these louts don’t have a quota to meet!

And meet their quota they shall, if only barely… BEHOLD!

ClarkKent’s Sci-Fi Soundbites

Epigram // Obsolescent [March 6th, 2026 – Self Released]

Combining the melodic black metal of Thulcandra and Dissection with the symphonics of Fleshgod Apocalypse and SepticFlesh, Epigram dropped a tasty little morsel with their debut, Obsolescent. The trio from Los Angeles puts on a spirited performance that borders on thrash. Tim Cauley’s display on the kit is a dominant force as he furiously blast beats his way from one song to the next. He turns “Wrath of Betrayed” into a piece of blackened thrash and proves tireless across Obsolescent’s 27-minute runtime. The lively vocal performance of Luis Echevarria adds further to Epigram’s charm. His low growls may seem underpowered, but his delivery is energetic and fun. He’s also the source of the symphonic instrumentation, via synths, though this aspect is secondary. Sure, there’s some choral chants (“Myrmidon,” “The Usurper’s Throne”), strings (“Hour of Gods”), and other vaguely symphonic sounds, but Epigram is most focused on the blackened melodic stuff. Shadi Absi throws together some great riffs, particularly on “Empires,” a work of pure black ‘n roll. The showstopper is “Hour of Gods,” with some sweet riffs and terrific energy. This song alone makes Obsolescent a worthy spin. Rounding out the musicians is Sanjay Kumar (Inferi, Wormhole), who plays solos on “Wrath of Betrayed” and “No Sin.” This is a promising debut for an eager new band.

Kal-El // Astral Voyager Vol. 2 [March 20th, 2026 – Blues Funeral Recordings]

Sporting the greatest band name of all time, Kal-El have been blasting listeners with stoner doom since 2012. Astral Voyager Vol. 2 is the follow-up to last year’s Vol. 1, and these pyschedelians’s seventh album overall. It’s been seven years since Witches of Mars was unfairly pummeled by a Kryptonian frog, and now I’d like to do the band justice by rescuing them from our filter. On this astral voyage, you get the pleasure of listening to six songs and 42 minutes of laid-back stoner tunes with plenty of fuzzy riffs—perfect for cruising around the cosmos. Their riff-centric approach puts them in the Black Sabbath camp, and the riffs on the likes of “Juno” and “The Prophecy,” which has a “Children of the Grave” vibe, are tons of fun. Further cementing the Sabbath comp is the vocal performance of Ståle Rodvelt, who carries a resemblance to Ozzy in his delivery. Longer cuts take more exploratory routes, akin to Sleep, yet still feature plenty to get your head bobbin’. “Asteroid” opens up with some sweet riffs that sustain its near eight-minute frame, while “The Nine” will still have you singing along in the final of its ten minutes. 1 So if you are in the mood for something chill that won’t put you to sleep, something that has the riffs without the risk of elevating your blood pressure, you should spend some time with Kal-El.

Thus Spoke’s Tectonic Treat

Bong-Ra // Esoterik [March 20th, 2026 – Debemur Morti Productions]

Not having received promo, it was only upon visiting DM’s Bandcamp page while writing up Aversio Humanitatis that I realised Bong-Ra had released another album. Asked whether Esoterik would be leaning more into enigmatic doom or spiky industrial electronica, the shapeshifting Bong-Ra said “yes”. The music is built on layers of dense, gritty atmosphere undulating with bass, breakbeats, and distorted riffs. Vocals are maintained from Black Noise—half-spoken snarls blurred by noise, shifting between blunt tunefulness (“Serpentine Helix”) and gargling venom (“Machine Halo”)—but at least half of the space is devoted to the purely instrumental psychosis. The saxophone is back, adding bizarre elegance and chilling eeriness in equal measure. Sometimes, Esoterik seems to be pitting its sultry and acerbic natures against one another; that chamber jazz side can take one by surprise (“Pleasures of the Flesh,” “Duality of One”), sandwiched as it is between a more punishing industrialism, but Bong-Ra just about gets away with it. This could be down to Esoterik’s efficiency in establishing (new) grooves—rhythmic and stylistic. Opener “Harmony Cloak” dispels misgivings on its skittering electronic oddity with a chorus that strikes a stylish balance between melody and dissonance; “Machine Halo” later follows in its stride. It’s an album that earns its moniker, right down to the particular spelling, and is worth the dark diversion it requires.

Grin Reaper’s Kooky Curios

Surturian // II – Hessian Spears [March 13th, 2026 – Crawling Chaos]

A German thrash band named after the legendary fire giant and guardian of Muspelheim? And on their debut LP, they launch an unrelenting, venomous assault filled with sticky riffs and bopping bass grooves in under forty-five minutes? Sign me up! Surturian plays thrash that smacks of early Testament and Metallica fused with the epic melodies of latter-day Kreator—hell, vocalist Tim Krogull reeks of Mille’s rancorous vocals, even though his name hews closer to a Voivodian disposition. In addition to thrash influences, Surturian calls upon Maiden’s signature gallops (“Cimmerians Wrath”) and anthemic melodies (“⁠Night Stalker,” “Do What Thou Wilt”), inculcating a lofty grandeur throughout II – Hessian Spears. Further fanning Surturian’s flames, the outfit navigates a varied landscape that imbues each track with its own character while never straying too far from their core sound. Hard-hitting offensives (“Blood Witchery”), slinky licks (“Night Stalker”), and oddball songwriting (“Beneath a Dying Sky”2) unite into an album I’ve regularly returned to since discovering it. If you’re feeling unSurtain, take it from me—it’s always a good time for some Hessian aggression!

Barn // Crucibles [March 24th, 2026 – Self Released]

Thanks to a certain dude/guy in the comments section, Crucibles didn’t slip past me undetected. Despite their dubious band name, Barn dropped a humdinger slab of tech death back in March that oozes with references to Unquestionable Presence (Atheist), Focus (Cynic), and, to a lesser extent, Decrepit Birth.3 There are even moments that echo more subdued moments from recent Sallow Moth releases (“The Serpent’s Perpetual Shed”). Staccato bursts of guitar, pinch harmonics, and buttery, fretless bass glissandos epitomize what Barn offers, and they spread it thick and chunky all over Crucibles’ sixty-five-minute runtime. Rustic name notwithstanding, Barn’s latest sounds like a sci-fi adventure, supported by track names like “Black Hole Lens” and “Cymatics.” The fretless bass especially helps with the futuristic aesthetic, frictionlessly gliding through gusts of abrupt, otherworldly guitars that buffet tracks from all angles. Barn rarely offers reprieve during their unconventional onslaught, but tracks like “Forbidden Fruits,” “Cymatics,” and “The Defeater” achieve such heights that I don’t find myself needing one. In short, these Boise boys warp listeners to a different dimension on Crucibles, and though it runs a tad long, I haven’t been deterred yet from lighting up this Barnburner.

Dionysiaque // La Tourbe des Rêves [March 27th, 2026 – I, Voidhanger Records]

Dionysiaque dispenses a bizarre derivative of doom on La Tourbe des Rêves that’s sure to be equal parts captivating and divisive. Reaching into the bag of tricks defined by Cathedral, Black Sabbath, and Candlemass, Dionysiaque’s sophomore album lumbers and chugs with classic rock-inspired leads and firecracker songcraft that I find utterly enthralling. Songs like “Aaron,” “Hate Fruit,” and “The Two Headed Boy” spotlight Dionysiaque’s plaintive guitar wails, contributed by L.B. and Bruno Penserini, along with their savvy balance of somber atmospheres and rousing melodies. Buoying the guitar tandem, bassist Lethal lays down frolicking, fabulous thunder via absorbing countermelodies while drummer T.H. looses potent fills and rolls throughout. Soaring atop the instrumentation are N.C.’s unorthodox vocals, which will almost certainly be the sole determining factor in listeners’ ability to engage with La Tourbe des Rêves. His delivery recalls that of Mayhem’s Attila Csihar at his most operatically deranged, never lacking conviction yet occasionally overpowering and ostentatious. Still, I appreciate and enjoy the commitment to the unhinged performance, and although dialing it back a little would make Dionysiaque’s latest more accessible, I’ve come to love La Tourbe des Rêves without apology. So don’t be afraid to let a little love into your heart—go get debauched with Dionysiaque’s aphrodisiac.

Creeping Ivy’s Pandemonic Pleasure

Mammon’s Throne // My Body to the Worms [March 13th, 2026 – Hammerheart Records]

In advising his fellow fallen angels—recently expelled from Heaven—to turn Hell into a competing kingdom, Mammon projects that All Demons will ‘work ease out of pain / Through labor and endurance.’4 Satan doesn’t heed this advice, but the third LP from Mammon’s Throne arguably does. On My Body to the Worms, this Australian five-piece inflicts pleasurable pain upon metaldom via five filthy slabs of sludgy death-doom (plus two instrumental reprieves). Mammon’s Throne conjure Hooded Menace, Temple of Void, and (old) Worm in their proclivity for plodding tempos, swampy riffs, and gravely howls (“Elixir”). The album is also a labor of love for classic (death-) doom à la Paradise Lost and My Dying Bride, mixing gothy croons, ascendant melodicism, and haunting piano into the band’s sinister stew (“Every Day More Sickened,” “At the Threshold of Eternity”). Though the listener does need some endurance, as three of the five non-instrumentals hover in the 8–9 minute range, the record flows fluidly across an easy 42 minutes. If you ever wondered what metal in league with Mammon might sound like, give My Body to the Worms a spin.

Rain has started to leak into the ducts as Spring gets wetter and wetter. While I’m away, vacationing in a nice, dry, cloudy place, my minions are drenched and miserable. As it should be! But I’m still keeping tabs on their progress. Just because I’m having a great time somewhere else doesn’t mean these louts don’t have a quota to meet!

And meet their quota they shall, if only barely… BEHOLD!

ClarkKent’s Sci-Fi Soundbites

Epigram // Obsolescent [March 6th, 2026 – Self Released]

Combining the melodic black metal of Thulcandra and Dissection with the symphonics of Fleshgod Apocalypse and SepticFlesh, Epigram dropped a tasty little morsel with their debut, Obsolescent. The trio from Los Angeles puts on a spirited performance that borders on thrash. Tim Cauley’s display on the kit is a dominant force as he furiously blast beats his way from one song to the next. He turns “Wrath of Betrayed” into a piece of blackened thrash and proves tireless across Obsolescent’s 27-minute runtime. The lively vocal performance of Luis Echevarria adds further to Epigram’s charm. His low growls may seem underpowered, but his delivery is energetic and fun. He’s also the source of the symphonic instrumentation, via synths, though this aspect is secondary. Sure, there’s some choral chants (“Myrmidon,” “The Usurper’s Throne”), strings (“Hour of Gods”), and other vaguely symphonic sounds, but Epigram is most focused on the blackened melodic stuff. Shadi Absi throws together some great riffs, particularly on “Empires,” a work of pure black ‘n roll. The showstopper is “Hour of Gods,” with some sweet riffs and terrific energy. This song alone makes Obsolescent a worthy spin. Rounding out the musicians is Sanjay Kumar (Inferi, Wormhole), who plays solos on “Wrath of Betrayed” and “No Sin.” This is a promising debut for an eager new band.

Kal-El // Astral Voyager Vol. 2 [March 20th, 2026 – Blues Funeral Recordings]

Sporting the greatest band name of all time, Kal-El have been blasting listeners with stoner doom since 2012. Astral Voyager Vol. 2 is the follow-up to last year’s Vol. 1, and these pyschedelians’s seventh album overall. It’s been seven years since Witches of Mars was unfairly pummeled by a Kryptonian frog, and now I’d like to do the band justice by rescuing them from our filter. On this astral voyage, you get the pleasure of listening to six songs and 42 minutes of laid-back stoner tunes with plenty of fuzzy riffs—perfect for cruising around the cosmos. Their riff-centric approach puts them in the Black Sabbath camp, and the riffs on the likes of “Juno” and “The Prophecy,” which has a “Children of the Grave” vibe, are tons of fun. Further cementing the Sabbath comp is the vocal performance of Ståle Rodvelt, who carries a resemblance to Ozzy in his delivery. Longer cuts take more exploratory routes, akin to Sleep, yet still feature plenty to get your head bobbin’. “Asteroid” opens up with some sweet riffs that sustain its near eight-minute frame, while “The Nine” will still have you singing along in the final of its ten minutes. 1 So if you are in the mood for something chill that won’t put you to sleep, something that has the riffs without the risk of elevating your blood pressure, you should spend some time with Kal-El.

Thus Spoke’s Tectonic Treat

Bong-Ra // Esoterik [March 20th, 2026 – Debemur Morti Productions]

Not having received promo, it was only upon visiting DM’s Bandcamp page while writing up Aversio Humanitatis that I realised Bong-Ra had released another album. Asked whether Esoterik would be leaning more into enigmatic doom or spiky industrial electronica, the shapeshifting Bong-Ra said “yes”. The music is built on layers of dense, gritty atmosphere undulating with bass, breakbeats, and distorted riffs. Vocals are maintained from Black Noise—half-spoken snarls blurred by noise, shifting between blunt tunefulness (“Serpentine Helix”) and gargling venom (“Machine Halo”)—but at least half of the space is devoted to the purely instrumental psychosis. The saxophone is back, adding bizarre elegance and chilling eeriness in equal measure. Sometimes, Esoterik seems to be pitting its sultry and acerbic natures against one another; that chamber jazz side can take one by surprise (“Pleasures of the Flesh,” “Duality of One”), sandwiched as it is between a more punishing industrialism, but Bong-Ra just about gets away with it. This could be down to Esoterik’s efficiency in establishing (new) grooves—rhythmic and stylistic. Opener “Harmony Cloak” dispels misgivings on its skittering electronic oddity with a chorus that strikes a stylish balance between melody and dissonance; “Machine Halo” later follows in its stride. It’s an album that earns its moniker, right down to the particular spelling, and is worth the dark diversion it requires.

Grin Reaper’s Kooky Curios

Surturian // II – Hessian Spears [March 13th, 2026 – Crawling Chaos]

A German thrash band named after the legendary fire giant and guardian of Muspelheim? And on their debut LP, they launch an unrelenting, venomous assault filled with sticky riffs and bopping bass grooves in under forty-five minutes? Sign me up! Surturian plays thrash that smacks of early Testament and Metallica fused with the epic melodies of latter-day Kreator—hell, vocalist Tim Krogull reeks of Mille’s rancorous vocals, even though his name hews closer to a Voivodian disposition. In addition to thrash influences, Surturian calls upon Maiden’s signature gallops (“Cimmerians Wrath”) and anthemic melodies (“⁠Night Stalker,” “Do What Thou Wilt”), inculcating a lofty grandeur throughout II – Hessian Spears. Further fanning Surturian’s flames, the outfit navigates a varied landscape that imbues each track with its own character while never straying too far from their core sound. Hard-hitting offensives (“Blood Witchery”), slinky licks (“Night Stalker”), and oddball songwriting (“Beneath a Dying Sky”2) unite into an album I’ve regularly returned to since discovering it. If you’re feeling unSurtain, take it from me—it’s always a good time for some Hessian aggression!

Barn // Crucibles [March 24th, 2026 – Self Released]

Thanks to a certain dude/guy in the comments section, Crucibles didn’t slip past me undetected. Despite their dubious band name, Barn dropped a humdinger slab of tech death back in March that oozes with references to Unquestionable Presence (Atheist), Focus (Cynic), and, to a lesser extent, Decrepit Birth.3 There are even moments that echo more subdued moments from recent Sallow Moth releases (“The Serpent’s Perpetual Shed”). Staccato bursts of guitar, pinch harmonics, and buttery, fretless bass glissandos epitomize what Barn offers, and they spread it thick and chunky all over Crucibles’ sixty-five-minute runtime. Rustic name notwithstanding, Barn’s latest sounds like a sci-fi adventure, supported by track names like “Black Hole Lens” and “Cymatics.” The fretless bass especially helps with the futuristic aesthetic, frictionlessly gliding through gusts of abrupt, otherworldly guitars that buffet tracks from all angles. Barn rarely offers reprieve during their unconventional onslaught, but tracks like “Forbidden Fruits,” “Cymatics,” and “The Defeater” achieve such heights that I don’t find myself needing one. In short, these Boise boys warp listeners to a different dimension on Crucibles, and though it runs a tad long, I haven’t been deterred yet from lighting up this Barnburner.

Dionysiaque // La Tourbe des Rêves [March 27th, 2026 – I, Voidhanger Records]

Dionysiaque dispenses a bizarre derivative of doom on La Tourbe des Rêves that’s sure to be equal parts captivating and divisive. Reaching into the bag of tricks defined by Cathedral, Black Sabbath, and Candlemass, Dionysiaque’s sophomore album lumbers and chugs with classic rock-inspired leads and firecracker songcraft that I find utterly enthralling. Songs like “Aaron,” “Hate Fruit,” and “The Two Headed Boy” spotlight Dionysiaque’s plaintive guitar wails, contributed by L.B. and Bruno Penserini, along with their savvy balance of somber atmospheres and rousing melodies. Buoying the guitar tandem, bassist Lethal lays down frolicking, fabulous thunder via absorbing countermelodies while drummer T.H. looses potent fills and rolls throughout. Soaring atop the instrumentation are N.C.’s unorthodox vocals, which will almost certainly be the sole determining factor in listeners’ ability to engage with La Tourbe des Rêves. His delivery recalls that of Mayhem’s Attila Csihar at his most operatically deranged, never lacking conviction yet occasionally overpowering and ostentatious. Still, I appreciate and enjoy the commitment to the unhinged performance, and although dialing it back a little would make Dionysiaque’s latest more accessible, I’ve come to love La Tourbe des Rêves without apology. So don’t be afraid to let a little love into your heart—go get debauched with Dionysiaque’s aphrodisiac.

Creeping Ivy’s Pandemonic Pleasure

Mammon’s Throne // My Body to the Worms [March 13th, 2026 – Hammerheart Records]

In advising his fellow fallen angels—recently expelled from Heaven—to turn Hell into a competing kingdom, Mammon projects that All Demons will ‘work ease out of pain / Through labor and endurance.’4 Satan doesn’t heed this advice, but the third LP from Mammon’s Throne arguably does. On My Body to the Worms, this Australian five-piece inflicts pleasurable pain upon metaldom via five filthy slabs of sludgy death-doom (plus two instrumental reprieves). Mammon’s Throne conjure Hooded Menace, Temple of Void, and (old) Worm in their proclivity for plodding tempos, swampy riffs, and gravely howls (“Elixir”). The album is also a labor of love for classic (death-) doom à la Paradise Lost and My Dying Bride, mixing gothy croons, ascendant melodicism, and haunting piano into the band’s sinister stew (“Every Day More Sickened,” “At the Threshold of Eternity”). Though the listener does need some endurance, as three of the five non-instrumentals hover in the 8–9 minute range, the record flows fluidly across an easy 42 minutes. If you ever wondered what metal in league with Mammon might sound like, give My Body to the Worms a spin.

Rain has started to leak into the ducts as Spring gets wetter and wetter. While I’m away, vacationing in a nice, dry, cloudy place, my minions are drenched and miserable. As it should be! But I’m still keeping tabs on their progress. Just because I’m having a great time somewhere else doesn’t mean these louts don’t have a quota to meet!

And meet their quota they shall, if only barely… BEHOLD!

ClarkKent’s Sci-Fi Soundbites

Epigram // Obsolescent [March 6th, 2026 – Self Released]

Combining the melodic black metal of Thulcandra and Dissection with the symphonics of Fleshgod Apocalypse and SepticFlesh, Epigram dropped a tasty little morsel with their debut, Obsolescent. The trio from Los Angeles puts on a spirited performance that borders on thrash. Tim Cauley’s display on the kit is a dominant force as he furiously blast beats his way from one song to the next. He turns “Wrath of Betrayed” into a piece of blackened thrash and proves tireless across Obsolescent’s 27-minute runtime. The lively vocal performance of Luis Echevarria adds further to Epigram’s charm. His low growls may seem underpowered, but his delivery is energetic and fun. He’s also the source of the symphonic instrumentation, via synths, though this aspect is secondary. Sure, there’s some choral chants (“Myrmidon,” “The Usurper’s Throne”), strings (“Hour of Gods”), and other vaguely symphonic sounds, but Epigram is most focused on the blackened melodic stuff. Shadi Absi throws together some great riffs, particularly on “Empires,” a work of pure black ‘n roll. The showstopper is “Hour of Gods,” with some sweet riffs and terrific energy. This song alone makes Obsolescent a worthy spin. Rounding out the musicians is Sanjay Kumar (Inferi, Wormhole), who plays solos on “Wrath of Betrayed” and “No Sin.” This is a promising debut for an eager new band.

Kal-El // Astral Voyager Vol. 2 [March 20th, 2026 – Blues Funeral Recordings]

Sporting the greatest band name of all time, Kal-El have been blasting listeners with stoner doom since 2012. Astral Voyager Vol. 2 is the follow-up to last year’s Vol. 1, and these pyschedelians’s seventh album overall. It’s been seven years since Witches of Mars was unfairly pummeled by a Kryptonian frog, and now I’d like to do the band justice by rescuing them from our filter. On this astral voyage, you get the pleasure of listening to six songs and 42 minutes of laid-back stoner tunes with plenty of fuzzy riffs—perfect for cruising around the cosmos. Their riff-centric approach puts them in the Black Sabbath camp, and the riffs on the likes of “Juno” and “The Prophecy,” which has a “Children of the Grave” vibe, are tons of fun. Further cementing the Sabbath comp is the vocal performance of Ståle Rodvelt, who carries a resemblance to Ozzy in his delivery. Longer cuts take more exploratory routes, akin to Sleep, yet still feature plenty to get your head bobbin’. “Asteroid” opens up with some sweet riffs that sustain its near eight-minute frame, while “The Nine” will still have you singing along in the final of its ten minutes. 1 So if you are in the mood for something chill that won’t put you to sleep, something that has the riffs without the risk of elevating your blood pressure, you should spend some time with Kal-El.

Thus Spoke’s Tectonic Treat

Bong-Ra // Esoterik [March 20th, 2026 – Debemur Morti Productions]

Not having received promo, it was only upon visiting DM’s Bandcamp page while writing up Aversio Humanitatis that I realised Bong-Ra had released another album. Asked whether Esoterik would be leaning more into enigmatic doom or spiky industrial electronica, the shapeshifting Bong-Ra said “yes”. The music is built on layers of dense, gritty atmosphere undulating with bass, breakbeats, and distorted riffs. Vocals are maintained from Black Noise—half-spoken snarls blurred by noise, shifting between blunt tunefulness (“Serpentine Helix”) and gargling venom (“Machine Halo”)—but at least half of the space is devoted to the purely instrumental psychosis. The saxophone is back, adding bizarre elegance and chilling eeriness in equal measure. Sometimes, Esoterik seems to be pitting its sultry and acerbic natures against one another; that chamber jazz side can take one by surprise (“Pleasures of the Flesh,” “Duality of One”), sandwiched as it is between a more punishing industrialism, but Bong-Ra just about gets away with it. This could be down to Esoterik’s efficiency in establishing (new) grooves—rhythmic and stylistic. Opener “Harmony Cloak” dispels misgivings on its skittering electronic oddity with a chorus that strikes a stylish balance between melody and dissonance; “Machine Halo” later follows in its stride. It’s an album that earns its moniker, right down to the particular spelling, and is worth the dark diversion it requires.

Grin Reaper’s Kooky Curios

Surturian // II – Hessian Spears [March 13th, 2026 – Crawling Chaos]

A German thrash band named after the legendary fire giant and guardian of Muspelheim? And on their debut LP, they launch an unrelenting, venomous assault filled with sticky riffs and bopping bass grooves in under forty-five minutes? Sign me up! Surturian plays thrash that smacks of early Testament and Metallica fused with the epic melodies of latter-day Kreator—hell, vocalist Tim Krogull reeks of Mille’s rancorous vocals, even though his name hews closer to a Voivodian disposition. In addition to thrash influences, Surturian calls upon Maiden’s signature gallops (“Cimmerians Wrath”) and anthemic melodies (“⁠Night Stalker,” “Do What Thou Wilt”), inculcating a lofty grandeur throughout II – Hessian Spears. Further fanning Surturian’s flames, the outfit navigates a varied landscape that imbues each track with its own character while never straying too far from their core sound. Hard-hitting offensives (“Blood Witchery”), slinky licks (“Night Stalker”), and oddball songwriting (“Beneath a Dying Sky”2) unite into an album I’ve regularly returned to since discovering it. If you’re feeling unSurtain, take it from me—it’s always a good time for some Hessian aggression!

Barn // Crucibles [March 24th, 2026 – Self Released]

Thanks to a certain dude/guy in the comments section, Crucibles didn’t slip past me undetected. Despite their dubious band name, Barn dropped a humdinger slab of tech death back in March that oozes with references to Unquestionable Presence (Atheist), Focus (Cynic), and, to a lesser extent, Decrepit Birth.3 There are even moments that echo more subdued moments from recent Sallow Moth releases (“The Serpent’s Perpetual Shed”). Staccato bursts of guitar, pinch harmonics, and buttery, fretless bass glissandos epitomize what Barn offers, and they spread it thick and chunky all over Crucibles’ sixty-five-minute runtime. Rustic name notwithstanding, Barn’s latest sounds like a sci-fi adventure, supported by track names like “Black Hole Lens” and “Cymatics.” The fretless bass especially helps with the futuristic aesthetic, frictionlessly gliding through gusts of abrupt, otherworldly guitars that buffet tracks from all angles. Barn rarely offers reprieve during their unconventional onslaught, but tracks like “Forbidden Fruits,” “Cymatics,” and “The Defeater” achieve such heights that I don’t find myself needing one. In short, these Boise boys warp listeners to a different dimension on Crucibles, and though it runs a tad long, I haven’t been deterred yet from lighting up this Barnburner.

Dionysiaque // La Tourbe des Rêves [March 27th, 2026 – I, Voidhanger Records]

Dionysiaque dispenses a bizarre derivative of doom on La Tourbe des Rêves that’s sure to be equal parts captivating and divisive. Reaching into the bag of tricks defined by Cathedral, Black Sabbath, and Candlemass, Dionysiaque’s sophomore album lumbers and chugs with classic rock-inspired leads and firecracker songcraft that I find utterly enthralling. Songs like “Aaron,” “Hate Fruit,” and “The Two Headed Boy” spotlight Dionysiaque’s plaintive guitar wails, contributed by L.B. and Bruno Penserini, along with their savvy balance of somber atmospheres and rousing melodies. Buoying the guitar tandem, bassist Lethal lays down frolicking, fabulous thunder via absorbing countermelodies while drummer T.H. looses potent fills and rolls throughout. Soaring atop the instrumentation are N.C.’s unorthodox vocals, which will almost certainly be the sole determining factor in listeners’ ability to engage with La Tourbe des Rêves. His delivery recalls that of Mayhem’s Attila Csihar at his most operatically deranged, never lacking conviction yet occasionally overpowering and ostentatious. Still, I appreciate and enjoy the commitment to the unhinged performance, and although dialing it back a little would make Dionysiaque’s latest more accessible, I’ve come to love La Tourbe des Rêves without apology. So don’t be afraid to let a little love into your heart—go get debauched with Dionysiaque’s aphrodisiac.

Creeping Ivy’s Pandemonic Pleasure

Mammon’s Throne // My Body to the Worms [March 13th, 2026 – Hammerheart Records]

In advising his fellow fallen angels—recently expelled from Heaven—to turn Hell into a competing kingdom, Mammon projects that All Demons will ‘work ease out of pain / Through labor and endurance.’4 Satan doesn’t heed this advice, but the third LP from Mammon’s Throne arguably does. On My Body to the Worms, this Australian five-piece inflicts pleasurable pain upon metaldom via five filthy slabs of sludgy death-doom (plus two instrumental reprieves). Mammon’s Throne conjure Hooded Menace, Temple of Void, and (old) Worm in their proclivity for plodding tempos, swampy riffs, and gravely howls (“Elixir”). The album is also a labor of love for classic (death-) doom à la Paradise Lost and My Dying Bride, mixing gothy croons, ascendant melodicism, and haunting piano into the band’s sinister stew (“Every Day More Sickened,” “At the Threshold of Eternity”). Though the listener does need some endurance, as three of the five non-instrumentals hover in the 8–9 minute range, the record flows fluidly across an easy 42 minutes. If you ever wondered what metal in league with Mammon might sound like, give My Body to the Worms a spin.

Rain has started to leak into the ducts as Spring gets wetter and wetter. While I’m away, vacationing in a nice, dry, cloudy place, my minions are drenched and miserable. As it should be! But I’m still keeping tabs on their progress. Just because I’m having a great time somewhere else doesn’t mean these louts don’t have a quota to meet!

And meet their quota they shall, if only barely… BEHOLD!

ClarkKent’s Sci-Fi Soundbites

Epigram // Obsolescent [March 6th, 2026 – Self Released]

Combining the melodic black metal of Thulcandra and Dissection with the symphonics of Fleshgod Apocalypse and SepticFlesh, Epigram dropped a tasty little morsel with their debut, Obsolescent. The trio from Los Angeles puts on a spirited performance that borders on thrash. Tim Cauley’s display on the kit is a dominant force as he furiously blast beats his way from one song to the next. He turns “Wrath of Betrayed” into a piece of blackened thrash and proves tireless across Obsolescent’s 27-minute runtime. The lively vocal performance of Luis Echevarria adds further to Epigram’s charm. His low growls may seem underpowered, but his delivery is energetic and fun. He’s also the source of the symphonic instrumentation, via synths, though this aspect is secondary. Sure, there’s some choral chants (“Myrmidon,” “The Usurper’s Throne”), strings (“Hour of Gods”), and other vaguely symphonic sounds, but Epigram is most focused on the blackened melodic stuff. Shadi Absi throws together some great riffs, particularly on “Empires,” a work of pure black ‘n roll. The showstopper is “Hour of Gods,” with some sweet riffs and terrific energy. This song alone makes Obsolescent a worthy spin. Rounding out the musicians is Sanjay Kumar (Inferi, Wormhole), who plays solos on “Wrath of Betrayed” and “No Sin.” This is a promising debut for an eager new band.

Kal-El // Astral Voyager Vol. 2 [March 20th, 2026 – Blues Funeral Recordings]

Sporting the greatest band name of all time, Kal-El have been blasting listeners with stoner doom since 2012. Astral Voyager Vol. 2 is the follow-up to last year’s Vol. 1, and these pyschedelians’s seventh album overall. It’s been seven years since Witches of Mars was unfairly pummeled by a Kryptonian frog, and now I’d like to do the band justice by rescuing them from our filter. On this astral voyage, you get the pleasure of listening to six songs and 42 minutes of laid-back stoner tunes with plenty of fuzzy riffs—perfect for cruising around the cosmos. Their riff-centric approach puts them in the Black Sabbath camp, and the riffs on the likes of “Juno” and “The Prophecy,” which has a “Children of the Grave” vibe, are tons of fun. Further cementing the Sabbath comp is the vocal performance of Ståle Rodvelt, who carries a resemblance to Ozzy in his delivery. Longer cuts take more exploratory routes, akin to Sleep, yet still feature plenty to get your head bobbin’. “Asteroid” opens up with some sweet riffs that sustain its near eight-minute frame, while “The Nine” will still have you singing along in the final of its ten minutes. 1 So if you are in the mood for something chill that won’t put you to sleep, something that has the riffs without the risk of elevating your blood pressure, you should spend some time with Kal-El.

Thus Spoke’s Tectonic Treat

Bong-Ra // Esoterik [March 20th, 2026 – Debemur Morti Productions]

Not having received promo, it was only upon visiting DM’s Bandcamp page while writing up Aversio Humanitatis that I realised Bong-Ra had released another album. Asked whether Esoterik would be leaning more into enigmatic doom or spiky industrial electronica, the shapeshifting Bong-Ra said “yes”. The music is built on layers of dense, gritty atmosphere undulating with bass, breakbeats, and distorted riffs. Vocals are maintained from Black Noise—half-spoken snarls blurred by noise, shifting between blunt tunefulness (“Serpentine Helix”) and gargling venom (“Machine Halo”)—but at least half of the space is devoted to the purely instrumental psychosis. The saxophone is back, adding bizarre elegance and chilling eeriness in equal measure. Sometimes, Esoterik seems to be pitting its sultry and acerbic natures against one another; that chamber jazz side can take one by surprise (“Pleasures of the Flesh,” “Duality of One”), sandwiched as it is between a more punishing industrialism, but Bong-Ra just about gets away with it. This could be down to Esoterik’s efficiency in establishing (new) grooves—rhythmic and stylistic. Opener “Harmony Cloak” dispels misgivings on its skittering electronic oddity with a chorus that strikes a stylish balance between melody and dissonance; “Machine Halo” later follows in its stride. It’s an album that earns its moniker, right down to the particular spelling, and is worth the dark diversion it requires.

Grin Reaper’s Kooky Curios

Surturian // II – Hessian Spears [March 13th, 2026 – Crawling Chaos]

A German thrash band named after the legendary fire giant and guardian of Muspelheim? And on their debut LP, they launch an unrelenting, venomous assault filled with sticky riffs and bopping bass grooves in under forty-five minutes? Sign me up! Surturian plays thrash that smacks of early Testament and Metallica fused with the epic melodies of latter-day Kreator—hell, vocalist Tim Krogull reeks of Mille’s rancorous vocals, even though his name hews closer to a Voivodian disposition. In addition to thrash influences, Surturian calls upon Maiden’s signature gallops (“Cimmerians Wrath”) and anthemic melodies (“⁠Night Stalker,” “Do What Thou Wilt”), inculcating a lofty grandeur throughout II – Hessian Spears. Further fanning Surturian’s flames, the outfit navigates a varied landscape that imbues each track with its own character while never straying too far from their core sound. Hard-hitting offensives (“Blood Witchery”), slinky licks (“Night Stalker”), and oddball songwriting (“Beneath a Dying Sky”2) unite into an album I’ve regularly returned to since discovering it. If you’re feeling unSurtain, take it from me—it’s always a good time for some Hessian aggression!

Barn // Crucibles [March 24th, 2026 – Self Released]

Thanks to a certain dude/guy in the comments section, Crucibles didn’t slip past me undetected. Despite their dubious band name, Barn dropped a humdinger slab of tech death back in March that oozes with references to Unquestionable Presence (Atheist), Focus (Cynic), and, to a lesser extent, Decrepit Birth.3 There are even moments that echo more subdued moments from recent Sallow Moth releases (“The Serpent’s Perpetual Shed”). Staccato bursts of guitar, pinch harmonics, and buttery, fretless bass glissandos epitomize what Barn offers, and they spread it thick and chunky all over Crucibles’ sixty-five-minute runtime. Rustic name notwithstanding, Barn’s latest sounds like a sci-fi adventure, supported by track names like “Black Hole Lens” and “Cymatics.” The fretless bass especially helps with the futuristic aesthetic, frictionlessly gliding through gusts of abrupt, otherworldly guitars that buffet tracks from all angles. Barn rarely offers reprieve during their unconventional onslaught, but tracks like “Forbidden Fruits,” “Cymatics,” and “The Defeater” achieve such heights that I don’t find myself needing one. In short, these Boise boys warp listeners to a different dimension on Crucibles, and though it runs a tad long, I haven’t been deterred yet from lighting up this Barnburner.

Dionysiaque // La Tourbe des Rêves [March 27th, 2026 – I, Voidhanger Records]

Dionysiaque dispenses a bizarre derivative of doom on La Tourbe des Rêves that’s sure to be equal parts captivating and divisive. Reaching into the bag of tricks defined by Cathedral, Black Sabbath, and Candlemass, Dionysiaque’s sophomore album lumbers and chugs with classic rock-inspired leads and firecracker songcraft that I find utterly enthralling. Songs like “Aaron,” “Hate Fruit,” and “The Two Headed Boy” spotlight Dionysiaque’s plaintive guitar wails, contributed by L.B. and Bruno Penserini, along with their savvy balance of somber atmospheres and rousing melodies. Buoying the guitar tandem, bassist Lethal lays down frolicking, fabulous thunder via absorbing countermelodies while drummer T.H. looses potent fills and rolls throughout. Soaring atop the instrumentation are N.C.’s unorthodox vocals, which will almost certainly be the sole determining factor in listeners’ ability to engage with La Tourbe des Rêves. His delivery recalls that of Mayhem’s Attila Csihar at his most operatically deranged, never lacking conviction yet occasionally overpowering and ostentatious. Still, I appreciate and enjoy the commitment to the unhinged performance, and although dialing it back a little would make Dionysiaque’s latest more accessible, I’ve come to love La Tourbe des Rêves without apology. So don’t be afraid to let a little love into your heart—go get debauched with Dionysiaque’s aphrodisiac.

Creeping Ivy’s Pandemonic Pleasure

Mammon’s Throne // My Body to the Worms [March 13th, 2026 – Hammerheart Records]

In advising his fellow fallen angels—recently expelled from Heaven—to turn Hell into a competing kingdom, Mammon projects that All Demons will ‘work ease out of pain / Through labor and endurance.’4 Satan doesn’t heed this advice, but the third LP from Mammon’s Throne arguably does. On My Body to the Worms, this Australian five-piece inflicts pleasurable pain upon metaldom via five filthy slabs of sludgy death-doom (plus two instrumental reprieves). Mammon’s Throne conjure Hooded Menace, Temple of Void, and (old) Worm in their proclivity for plodding tempos, swampy riffs, and gravely howls (“Elixir”). The album is also a labor of love for classic (death-) doom à la Paradise Lost and My Dying Bride, mixing gothy croons, ascendant melodicism, and haunting piano into the band’s sinister stew (“Every Day More Sickened,” “At the Threshold of Eternity”). Though the listener does need some endurance, as three of the five non-instrumentals hover in the 8–9 minute range, the record flows fluidly across an easy 42 minutes. If you ever wondered what metal in league with Mammon might sound like, give My Body to the Worms a spin.

Arch Enemy and The Black Dahlia Murder are joining forces this fall for the Wrath Across America co-headlining tour with support from Septicflesh, Crypta, and Thrown Into Exile.

The run also marks a new era for Arch Enemy following the addition of Lauren Hart as the band's new vocalist.

Details: https://metalinsider.net/touring/arch-enemy-and-the-black-dahlia-murder-announce-wrath-across-america-fall-2026-co-headlining-tour

#ArchEnemy #TheBlackDahliaMurder #Septicflesh #Crypta #DeathMetal #MelodicDeathMetal #MetalTour #MetalNews

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!

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!

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!

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!

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

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

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

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

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

In the metalverse, there are plenty of unique personas, and now we can count Valira Pietrangelo among them. She has been very open in interviews about suffering from identity dysphoria. As a result, she dove into making music and eventually discovered herself as a demon.1 What better way to express your newfound demonhood than through black metal? Everything about Vesseles (pronounced veh-sel-is) revolves around Pietrangelo’s identity. The band’s name is a Latinized version of the word vessel, as in her body being a vessel containing an identity that doesn’t quite fit. In 2024, Vesseles released their debut EP, not-so-subtly titled I Am a Demon, about her inner struggles and coming out as a demon. Now with Home, Vesseles takes a more ambitious approach as Pietrangelo expands her songwriting repertoire.

This shouldn’t come as a surprise with a demon at the helm, but Home sounds sinister as hell. With a cinematic flair, Vesseles shares some similarities with the darker symphonic metal of Dimmu Borgir and SepticFlesh, yet they play with a dissonance and malevolence that draws closer comparisons to Hasard. Like with Hasard, guitars play second fiddle to the haunting strings and off-key piano notes. Joel Ferry’s demonic rasps, harsh and high, ooze hatred and venom, while the constant tempo shifts serve to keep listeners off-balance. Home is a concept album about a demon cast from one world she didn’t belong to and into another she’s not wanted. Pietrangelo entangles us in her character’s emotional state, making us feel her rage and malice through the challenging music. She may have succeeded in her approach a little too well—while I appreciate her vision, it can be difficult to enjoy at times.

Home by Vesseles

Home contains some impressive musical passages, and yet the overall style becomes taxing over time. As a result, the front half is much more effective than the back half. Opener “Flesh Throne” establishes a menacing atmosphere with its string compositions, but it’s the piano that steals the show. The dissonant piano and icy riffs on “The Beneath” create an appropriately malevolent atmosphere that’s sure to send shivers down your spine. “Home” opens with a classical-sounding, off-key piano segment that’s moving in its evil intent. “Home” is also where the record’s approach begins to falter and grate—the noisiness and constant tonal shifts take their toll over the span of a too-long six minutes. This comes to a head on the final two tracks, the weakest on Home. “Perpetual Chasm of Black Mirrors” in particular lacks the bits of brilliance of the rest of Home, and the finale, “This Is Not Home,” drags on for too long. The constant shifts—in tempo, volume, and noise levels—grow challenging to tolerate for long periods.

Ultimately, what holds Home back is the production. Vesseles suffers the same issue as Hasard’s debut—their record is just too loud. My poor ears could only take so much, and headphones only compounded the issue. There’s a moment on “Scriptures Etched Into the Mind’s Pillars” where the guitars and rasps become muted in favor of a nice string and drum segment, and I found myself breathing a sigh of relief as my ears were given a brief reprieve from the aural assault. The crushed compression also hurts the instrumentally busier passages; I found it difficult in these moments to appreciate individual performances or make out what’s going on. On one hand, this contributes to the chaotic, unsettling tone that Vesseles appears to be aiming for, but it ultimately mars some impressive songwriting.

Home is simultaneously a remarkable debut and an intolerable one. Pietrangelo successfully carries out her unsettling vision in crafting a sinister tone through complex compositions. Yet the bogeyman of poor mastering hampers her vision. Despite this, the first half of Home is quite strong and took me fondly back to my time reviewing Hasard’s Abgnose. One can only hope that she learns the same lessons Hasard did, as Abgnose’s production was a huge improvement over the debut. I have faith that this demon can wow us with her unique vision yet again, and I look forward to hearing it.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Self-Release
Websites: vesseles.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/vesseles
Releases Worldwide: January 16th, 2026

In the metalverse, there are plenty of unique personas, and now we can count Valira Pietrangelo among them. She has been very open in interviews about suffering from identity dysphoria. As a result, she dove into making music and eventually discovered herself as a demon.1 What better way to express your newfound demonhood than through black metal? Everything about Vesseles (pronounced veh-sel-is) revolves around Pietrangelo’s identity. The band’s name is a Latinized version of the word vessel, as in her body being a vessel containing an identity that doesn’t quite fit. In 2024, Vesseles released their debut EP, not-so-subtly titled I Am a Demon, about her inner struggles and coming out as a demon. Now with Home, Vesseles takes a more ambitious approach as Pietrangelo expands her songwriting repertoire.

This shouldn’t come as a surprise with a demon at the helm, but Home sounds sinister as hell. With a cinematic flair, Vesseles shares some similarities with the darker symphonic metal of Dimmu Borgir and SepticFlesh, yet they play with a dissonance and malevolence that draws closer comparisons to Hasard. Like with Hasard, guitars play second fiddle to the haunting strings and off-key piano notes. Joel Ferry’s demonic rasps, harsh and high, ooze hatred and venom, while the constant tempo shifts serve to keep listeners off-balance. Home is a concept album about a demon cast from one world she didn’t belong to and into another she’s not wanted. Pietrangelo entangles us in her character’s emotional state, making us feel her rage and malice through the challenging music. She may have succeeded in her approach a little too well—while I appreciate her vision, it can be difficult to enjoy at times.

Home by Vesseles

Home contains some impressive musical passages, and yet the overall style becomes taxing over time. As a result, the front half is much more effective than the back half. Opener “Flesh Throne” establishes a menacing atmosphere with its string compositions, but it’s the piano that steals the show. The dissonant piano and icy riffs on “The Beneath” create an appropriately malevolent atmosphere that’s sure to send shivers down your spine. “Home” opens with a classical-sounding, off-key piano segment that’s moving in its evil intent. “Home” is also where the record’s approach begins to falter and grate—the noisiness and constant tonal shifts take their toll over the span of a too-long six minutes. This comes to a head on the final two tracks, the weakest on Home. “Perpetual Chasm of Black Mirrors” in particular lacks the bits of brilliance of the rest of Home, and the finale, “This Is Not Home,” drags on for too long. The constant shifts—in tempo, volume, and noise levels—grow challenging to tolerate for long periods.

Ultimately, what holds Home back is the production. Vesseles suffers the same issue as Hasard’s debut—their record is just too loud. My poor ears could only take so much, and headphones only compounded the issue. There’s a moment on “Scriptures Etched Into the Mind’s Pillars” where the guitars and rasps become muted in favor of a nice string and drum segment, and I found myself breathing a sigh of relief as my ears were given a brief reprieve from the aural assault. The crushed compression also hurts the instrumentally busier passages; I found it difficult in these moments to appreciate individual performances or make out what’s going on. On one hand, this contributes to the chaotic, unsettling tone that Vesseles appears to be aiming for, but it ultimately mars some impressive songwriting.

Home is simultaneously a remarkable debut and an intolerable one. Pietrangelo successfully carries out her unsettling vision in crafting a sinister tone through complex compositions. Yet the bogeyman of poor mastering hampers her vision. Despite this, the first half of Home is quite strong and took me fondly back to my time reviewing Hasard’s Abgnose. One can only hope that she learns the same lessons Hasard did, as Abgnose’s production was a huge improvement over the debut. I have faith that this demon can wow us with her unique vision yet again, and I look forward to hearing it.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Self-Release
Websites: vesseles.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/vesseles
Releases Worldwide: January 16th, 2026

Plague Curse – Verminous Contempt Review

We’ve all been told, once or thric…
#NewsBeep #News #Music #2025 #3.5 #AdirondackBlackMass #Archspire #BlackMetal #BlackenedDeathMetal #BoltThrower #BurdenofYmir #CattleDecapitation #DeathMetal #Entertainment #FoetalJuice #Immolation #InternationalMetal #LIK #MentalCruelty #MorbidAngel #Oct25 #Pestilence #PlagueCurse #review #Reviews #SepticFlesh #SpectralWound #Suffocation #UK #UnitedKingdom #VerminousContempt #Watain
https://www.newsbeep.com/uk/187357/

Plague Curse – Verminous Contempt Review

We’ve all been told, once or thrice, not …
#NewsBeep #News #Music #2025 #3.5 #AdirondackBlackMass #Archspire #BlackMetal #BlackenedDeathMetal #BoltThrower #BurdenofYmir #CA #Canada #CattleDecapitation #DeathMetal #Entertainment #FoetalJuice #Immolation #InternationalMetal #LIK #MentalCruelty #MorbidAngel #Oct25 #Pestilence #PlagueCurse #review #reviews #SepticFlesh #SpectralWound #Suffocation #VerminousContempt #Watain
https://www.newsbeep.com/ca/198112/

Plague Curse – Verminous Contempt Review

We’ve all been told, once or thrice, n…
#NewsBeep #News #Music #2025 #3.5 #AdirondackBlackMass #Archspire #AU #Australia #BlackMetal #BlackenedDeathMetal #BoltThrower #BurdenofYmir #CattleDecapitation #DeathMetal #Entertainment #FoetalJuice #Immolation #InternationalMetal #LIK #MentalCruelty #MorbidAngel #Oct25 #Pestilence #PlagueCurse #review #reviews #SepticFlesh #SpectralWound #Suffocation #VerminousContempt #Watain
https://www.newsbeep.com/au/198348/

Plague Curse – Verminous Contempt Review

By Spicie Forrest

We’ve all been told, once or thrice, not to judge a book by its cover. As a species, we’re pretty good at doing it anyway. In metal circles, band logos and album art often follow certain tropes that let us quickly identify what we’re about to hear and set expectations accordingly. Except when they don’t. When I first saw the cover art for Verminous Contempt, I thought I had it pegged. I mean, rats? Green mystery fluid? Skulls? This was sewage-drenched death metal for sure. I was, of course, wrong. For their debut, Plague Curse instead offers a highly polished platter of blackened death metal. Irregardless of genre, however, the only question that matters here is, does it slap?

The heart of Verminous Contempt beats death, but its blackened influences are plenty vital. Bolt Thrown riffs, courtesy of Joe Caswell (Burden of Ymir), and Neil Schneider’s fully automatic drums offer a tank tread massage on “In the Shadow of Hate” and “Procession of Dead,” while “Amidst the Devastation” and “Hate Fuck Of Fornication and Malice” get their meat hooks in you like Cattle Decapitation in an asylum. Guitar licks in the skeletal, dissonant veins of Morbid Angel or Pestilence add a hunted sense of unrest (“Nocturnal Cruelty,” “Callous Abomination”). This would make for a decent record on its own, but well-placed blackened tremolos coalesce and melt away throughout the album like specters in a fog. “Umbrage Earned” and “Of Fornication and Malice” open with hellish, blackened salvos of Archspired urgency, but what’s particularly noteworthy about the former—and true to varying degrees across all of Verminous Contempt—is the way the band twists and warps death metal instrumentation to fit over black metal structures. While much of this record sounds like death metal, “Umbrage Earned” reminds me more of Watain from a compositional standpoint. Verminous Contempt isn’t just black metal and death metal played next to each other; Plague Curse creates a true blend of the two.

The instrumentals on Verminous Contempt are nothing to sneeze at, and neither is Nick Rossi’s vocal performance. His lows evoke Suffocation or Septicflesh, while highs are closer to Cattle Decapitation or Mental Cruelty. Rossi even gets brutally low on “In the Shadow of Hate” and “Callous Abomination.” He’s got an impressive toolkit. And whether low, high, or somewhere in between, he’s phlegmy and wet, not unlike Lik. It brings an unrefined, unhinged edge to an album whose production is otherwise pretty clean. The added grit does wonders for Plague Curse’s sound, creating much-needed texture across Verminous Contempt. Rossi’s standout performance is occasionally a detriment, however, as a few instrumental sections struggle to hold their own in his absence (“Procession of Dead,” “Reigning in Ruin”).

Verminous Contempt is an energetic and dynamic album. Riffs abound, both searing like Spectral Wound (“Most Vile”) and crushing like Immolation (“Callous Abomination”). Whether slinging neoclassical hooks (“Most Vile”), creating blackened tension (“In the Shadow of Hate”), or expertly shifting tempo (“Reigning in Ruin”), Caswell can count on Schneider and bassist George Van Doorn to provide a solid foundation upon which to drive each track. Transitions are well-timed and flow seamlessly, making the album an enjoyable and smooth listen end to end. Even tastefully and sparingly added dissonance incorporates well into the broader picture (“Reigning in Ruin,” “Nocturnal Cruelty”). But with such obvious songwriting prowess and tight construction, it’s a little frustrating to trudge through several minutes that should have been left on the cutting room floor, including the last third of “Reigning in Ruin” and the entire outro “Oderint Dum Metuant.”

I picked up Verminous Contempt expecting Foetal Juice, but was instead treated to an impressive mix of some of metal’s meanest sounds. Like being blindsided with a brick, Plague Curse comes out swinging and, with the exception of a couple of competent slowdowns, never lets up. Between noteworthy vocals and frenetic yet controlled instrumentation, Verminous Contempt is an enjoyable and easily consumed album. On their debut, Plague Curse establish themselves as a vicious but accessible contender in blackened death circles. With a more enthusiastic scalpel and a little more attention paid to instrumental passages, Plague Curse could easily be a future cornerstone of the genre.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Adirondack Black Mass
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: October 10th, 2025

#2025 #35 #AdirondackBlackMass #Archspire #BlackMetal #BlackenedDeathMetal #BoltThrower #BurdenOfYmir #CattleDecapitation #DeathMetal #FoetalJuice #Immolation #InternationalMetal #LIK #MentalCruelty #MorbidAngel #Oct25 #Pestilence #PlagueCurse #Review #Reviews #SepticFlesh #SpectralWound #Suffocation #VerminousContempt #Watain

Plague Curse – Verminous Contempt Review

By Spicie Forrest

We’ve all been told, once or thrice, not to judge a book by its cover. As a species, we’re pretty good at doing it anyway. In metal circles, band logos and album art often follow certain tropes that let us quickly identify what we’re about to hear and set expectations accordingly. Except when they don’t. When I first saw the cover art for Verminous Contempt, I thought I had it pegged. I mean, rats? Green mystery fluid? Skulls? This was sewage-drenched death metal for sure. I was, of course, wrong. For their debut, Plague Curse instead offers a highly polished platter of blackened death metal. Irregardless of genre, however, the only question that matters here is, does it slap?

The heart of Verminous Contempt beats death, but its blackened influences are plenty vital. Bolt Thrown riffs, courtesy of Joe Caswell (Burden of Ymir), and Neil Schneider’s fully automatic drums offer a tank tread massage on “In the Shadow of Hate” and “Procession of Dead,” while “Amidst the Devastation” and “Hate Fuck Of Fornication and Malice” get their meat hooks in you like Cattle Decapitation in an asylum. Guitar licks in the skeletal, dissonant veins of Morbid Angel or Pestilence add a hunted sense of unrest (“Nocturnal Cruelty,” “Callous Abomination”). This would make for a decent record on its own, but well-placed blackened tremolos coalesce and melt away throughout the album like specters in a fog. “Umbrage Earned” and “Of Fornication and Malice” open with hellish, blackened salvos of Archspired urgency, but what’s particularly noteworthy about the former—and true to varying degrees across all of Verminous Contempt—is the way the band twists and warps death metal instrumentation to fit over black metal structures. While much of this record sounds like death metal, “Umbrage Earned” reminds me more of Watain from a compositional standpoint. Verminous Contempt isn’t just black metal and death metal played next to each other; Plague Curse creates a true blend of the two.

The instrumentals on Verminous Contempt are nothing to sneeze at, and neither is Nick Rossi’s vocal performance. His lows evoke Suffocation or Septicflesh, while highs are closer to Cattle Decapitation or Mental Cruelty. Rossi even gets brutally low on “In the Shadow of Hate” and “Callous Abomination.” He’s got an impressive toolkit. And whether low, high, or somewhere in between, he’s phlegmy and wet, not unlike Lik. It brings an unrefined, unhinged edge to an album whose production is otherwise pretty clean. The added grit does wonders for Plague Curse’s sound, creating much-needed texture across Verminous Contempt. Rossi’s standout performance is occasionally a detriment, however, as a few instrumental sections struggle to hold their own in his absence (“Procession of Dead,” “Reigning in Ruin”).

Verminous Contempt is an energetic and dynamic album. Riffs abound, both searing like Spectral Wound (“Most Vile”) and crushing like Immolation (“Callous Abomination”). Whether slinging neoclassical hooks (“Most Vile”), creating blackened tension (“In the Shadow of Hate”), or expertly shifting tempo (“Reigning in Ruin”), Caswell can count on Schneider and bassist George Van Doorn to provide a solid foundation upon which to drive each track. Transitions are well-timed and flow seamlessly, making the album an enjoyable and smooth listen end to end. Even tastefully and sparingly added dissonance incorporates well into the broader picture (“Reigning in Ruin,” “Nocturnal Cruelty”). But with such obvious songwriting prowess and tight construction, it’s a little frustrating to trudge through several minutes that should have been left on the cutting room floor, including the last third of “Reigning in Ruin” and the entire outro “Oderint Dum Metuant.”

I picked up Verminous Contempt expecting Foetal Juice, but was instead treated to an impressive mix of some of metal’s meanest sounds. Like being blindsided with a brick, Plague Curse comes out swinging and, with the exception of a couple of competent slowdowns, never lets up. Between noteworthy vocals and frenetic yet controlled instrumentation, Verminous Contempt is an enjoyable and easily consumed album. On their debut, Plague Curse establish themselves as a vicious but accessible contender in blackened death circles. With a more enthusiastic scalpel and a little more attention paid to instrumental passages, Plague Curse could easily be a future cornerstone of the genre.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Adirondack Black Mass
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: October 10th, 2025

#2025 #35 #AdirondackBlackMass #Archspire #BlackMetal #BlackenedDeathMetal #BoltThrower #BurdenOfYmir #CattleDecapitation #DeathMetal #FoetalJuice #Immolation #InternationalMetal #LIK #MentalCruelty #MorbidAngel #Oct25 #Pestilence #PlagueCurse #Review #Reviews #SepticFlesh #SpectralWound #Suffocation #VerminousContempt #Watain

Plague Curse – Verminous Contempt Review

By Spicie Forrest

We’ve all been told, once or thrice, not to judge a book by its cover. As a species, we’re pretty good at doing it anyway. In metal circles, band logos and album art often follow certain tropes that let us quickly identify what we’re about to hear and set expectations accordingly. Except when they don’t. When I first saw the cover art for Verminous Contempt, I thought I had it pegged. I mean, rats? Green mystery fluid? Skulls? This was sewage-drenched death metal for sure. I was, of course, wrong. For their debut, Plague Curse instead offers a highly polished platter of blackened death metal. Irregardless of genre, however, the only question that matters here is, does it slap?

The heart of Verminous Contempt beats death, but its blackened influences are plenty vital. Bolt Thrown riffs, courtesy of Joe Caswell (Burden of Ymir), and Neil Schneider’s fully automatic drums offer a tank tread massage on “In the Shadow of Hate” and “Procession of Dead,” while “Amidst the Devastation” and “Hate Fuck Of Fornication and Malice” get their meat hooks in you like Cattle Decapitation in an asylum. Guitar licks in the skeletal, dissonant veins of Morbid Angel or Pestilence add a hunted sense of unrest (“Nocturnal Cruelty,” “Callous Abomination”). This would make for a decent record on its own, but well-placed blackened tremolos coalesce and melt away throughout the album like specters in a fog. “Umbrage Earned” and “Of Fornication and Malice” open with hellish, blackened salvos of Archspired urgency, but what’s particularly noteworthy about the former—and true to varying degrees across all of Verminous Contempt—is the way the band twists and warps death metal instrumentation to fit over black metal structures. While much of this record sounds like death metal, “Umbrage Earned” reminds me more of Watain from a compositional standpoint. Verminous Contempt isn’t just black metal and death metal played next to each other; Plague Curse creates a true blend of the two.

The instrumentals on Verminous Contempt are nothing to sneeze at, and neither is Nick Rossi’s vocal performance. His lows evoke Suffocation or Septicflesh, while highs are closer to Cattle Decapitation or Mental Cruelty. Rossi even gets brutally low on “In the Shadow of Hate” and “Callous Abomination.” He’s got an impressive toolkit. And whether low, high, or somewhere in between, he’s phlegmy and wet, not unlike Lik. It brings an unrefined, unhinged edge to an album whose production is otherwise pretty clean. The added grit does wonders for Plague Curse’s sound, creating much-needed texture across Verminous Contempt. Rossi’s standout performance is occasionally a detriment, however, as a few instrumental sections struggle to hold their own in his absence (“Procession of Dead,” “Reigning in Ruin”).

Verminous Contempt is an energetic and dynamic album. Riffs abound, both searing like Spectral Wound (“Most Vile”) and crushing like Immolation (“Callous Abomination”). Whether slinging neoclassical hooks (“Most Vile”), creating blackened tension (“In the Shadow of Hate”), or expertly shifting tempo (“Reigning in Ruin”), Caswell can count on Schneider and bassist George Van Doorn to provide a solid foundation upon which to drive each track. Transitions are well-timed and flow seamlessly, making the album an enjoyable and smooth listen end to end. Even tastefully and sparingly added dissonance incorporates well into the broader picture (“Reigning in Ruin,” “Nocturnal Cruelty”). But with such obvious songwriting prowess and tight construction, it’s a little frustrating to trudge through several minutes that should have been left on the cutting room floor, including the last third of “Reigning in Ruin” and the entire outro “Oderint Dum Metuant.”

I picked up Verminous Contempt expecting Foetal Juice, but was instead treated to an impressive mix of some of metal’s meanest sounds. Like being blindsided with a brick, Plague Curse comes out swinging and, with the exception of a couple of competent slowdowns, never lets up. Between noteworthy vocals and frenetic yet controlled instrumentation, Verminous Contempt is an enjoyable and easily consumed album. On their debut, Plague Curse establish themselves as a vicious but accessible contender in blackened death circles. With a more enthusiastic scalpel and a little more attention paid to instrumental passages, Plague Curse could easily be a future cornerstone of the genre.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Adirondack Black Mass
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: October 10th, 2025

#2025 #35 #AdirondackBlackMass #Archspire #BlackMetal #BlackenedDeathMetal #BoltThrower #BurdenOfYmir #CattleDecapitation #DeathMetal #FoetalJuice #Immolation #InternationalMetal #LIK #MentalCruelty #MorbidAngel #Oct25 #Pestilence #PlagueCurse #Review #Reviews #SepticFlesh #SpectralWound #Suffocation #VerminousContempt #Watain

Plague Curse – Verminous Contempt Review

By Spicie Forrest

We’ve all been told, once or thrice, not to judge a book by its cover. As a species, we’re pretty good at doing it anyway. In metal circles, band logos and album art often follow certain tropes that let us quickly identify what we’re about to hear and set expectations accordingly. Except when they don’t. When I first saw the cover art for Verminous Contempt, I thought I had it pegged. I mean, rats? Green mystery fluid? Skulls? This was sewage-drenched death metal for sure. I was, of course, wrong. For their debut, Plague Curse instead offers a highly polished platter of blackened death metal. Irregardless of genre, however, the only question that matters here is, does it slap?

The heart of Verminous Contempt beats death, but its blackened influences are plenty vital. Bolt Thrown riffs, courtesy of Joe Caswell (Burden of Ymir), and Neil Schneider’s fully automatic drums offer a tank tread massage on “In the Shadow of Hate” and “Procession of Dead,” while “Amidst the Devastation” and “Hate Fuck Of Fornication and Malice” get their meat hooks in you like Cattle Decapitation in an asylum. Guitar licks in the skeletal, dissonant veins of Morbid Angel or Pestilence add a hunted sense of unrest (“Nocturnal Cruelty,” “Callous Abomination”). This would make for a decent record on its own, but well-placed blackened tremolos coalesce and melt away throughout the album like specters in a fog. “Umbrage Earned” and “Of Fornication and Malice” open with hellish, blackened salvos of Archspired urgency, but what’s particularly noteworthy about the former—and true to varying degrees across all of Verminous Contempt—is the way the band twists and warps death metal instrumentation to fit over black metal structures. While much of this record sounds like death metal, “Umbrage Earned” reminds me more of Watain from a compositional standpoint. Verminous Contempt isn’t just black metal and death metal played next to each other; Plague Curse creates a true blend of the two.

The instrumentals on Verminous Contempt are nothing to sneeze at, and neither is Nick Rossi’s vocal performance. His lows evoke Suffocation or Septicflesh, while highs are closer to Cattle Decapitation or Mental Cruelty. Rossi even gets brutally low on “In the Shadow of Hate” and “Callous Abomination.” He’s got an impressive toolkit. And whether low, high, or somewhere in between, he’s phlegmy and wet, not unlike Lik. It brings an unrefined, unhinged edge to an album whose production is otherwise pretty clean. The added grit does wonders for Plague Curse’s sound, creating much-needed texture across Verminous Contempt. Rossi’s standout performance is occasionally a detriment, however, as a few instrumental sections struggle to hold their own in his absence (“Procession of Dead,” “Reigning in Ruin”).

Verminous Contempt is an energetic and dynamic album. Riffs abound, both searing like Spectral Wound (“Most Vile”) and crushing like Immolation (“Callous Abomination”). Whether slinging neoclassical hooks (“Most Vile”), creating blackened tension (“In the Shadow of Hate”), or expertly shifting tempo (“Reigning in Ruin”), Caswell can count on Schneider and bassist George Van Doorn to provide a solid foundation upon which to drive each track. Transitions are well-timed and flow seamlessly, making the album an enjoyable and smooth listen end to end. Even tastefully and sparingly added dissonance incorporates well into the broader picture (“Reigning in Ruin,” “Nocturnal Cruelty”). But with such obvious songwriting prowess and tight construction, it’s a little frustrating to trudge through several minutes that should have been left on the cutting room floor, including the last third of “Reigning in Ruin” and the entire outro “Oderint Dum Metuant.”

I picked up Verminous Contempt expecting Foetal Juice, but was instead treated to an impressive mix of some of metal’s meanest sounds. Like being blindsided with a brick, Plague Curse comes out swinging and, with the exception of a couple of competent slowdowns, never lets up. Between noteworthy vocals and frenetic yet controlled instrumentation, Verminous Contempt is an enjoyable and easily consumed album. On their debut, Plague Curse establish themselves as a vicious but accessible contender in blackened death circles. With a more enthusiastic scalpel and a little more attention paid to instrumental passages, Plague Curse could easily be a future cornerstone of the genre.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Adirondack Black Mass
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: October 10th, 2025

#2025 #35 #AdirondackBlackMass #Archspire #BlackMetal #BlackenedDeathMetal #BoltThrower #BurdenOfYmir #CattleDecapitation #DeathMetal #FoetalJuice #Immolation #InternationalMetal #LIK #MentalCruelty #MorbidAngel #Oct25 #Pestilence #PlagueCurse #Review #Reviews #SepticFlesh #SpectralWound #Suffocation #VerminousContempt #Watain

Plague Curse – Verminous Contempt Review

By Spicie Forrest

We’ve all been told, once or thrice, not to judge a book by its cover. As a species, we’re pretty good at doing it anyway. In metal circles, band logos and album art often follow certain tropes that let us quickly identify what we’re about to hear and set expectations accordingly. Except when they don’t. When I first saw the cover art for Verminous Contempt, I thought I had it pegged. I mean, rats? Green mystery fluid? Skulls? This was sewage-drenched death metal for sure. I was, of course, wrong. For their debut, Plague Curse instead offers a highly polished platter of blackened death metal. Irregardless of genre, however, the only question that matters here is, does it slap?

The heart of Verminous Contempt beats death, but its blackened influences are plenty vital. Bolt Thrown riffs, courtesy of Joe Caswell (Burden of Ymir), and Neil Schneider’s fully automatic drums offer a tank tread massage on “In the Shadow of Hate” and “Procession of Dead,” while “Amidst the Devastation” and “Hate Fuck Of Fornication and Malice” get their meat hooks in you like Cattle Decapitation in an asylum. Guitar licks in the skeletal, dissonant veins of Morbid Angel or Pestilence add a hunted sense of unrest (“Nocturnal Cruelty,” “Callous Abomination”). This would make for a decent record on its own, but well-placed blackened tremolos coalesce and melt away throughout the album like specters in a fog. “Umbrage Earned” and “Of Fornication and Malice” open with hellish, blackened salvos of Archspired urgency, but what’s particularly noteworthy about the former—and true to varying degrees across all of Verminous Contempt—is the way the band twists and warps death metal instrumentation to fit over black metal structures. While much of this record sounds like death metal, “Umbrage Earned” reminds me more of Watain from a compositional standpoint. Verminous Contempt isn’t just black metal and death metal played next to each other; Plague Curse creates a true blend of the two.

The instrumentals on Verminous Contempt are nothing to sneeze at, and neither is Nick Rossi’s vocal performance. His lows evoke Suffocation or Septicflesh, while highs are closer to Cattle Decapitation or Mental Cruelty. Rossi even gets brutally low on “In the Shadow of Hate” and “Callous Abomination.” He’s got an impressive toolkit. And whether low, high, or somewhere in between, he’s phlegmy and wet, not unlike Lik. It brings an unrefined, unhinged edge to an album whose production is otherwise pretty clean. The added grit does wonders for Plague Curse’s sound, creating much-needed texture across Verminous Contempt. Rossi’s standout performance is occasionally a detriment, however, as a few instrumental sections struggle to hold their own in his absence (“Procession of Dead,” “Reigning in Ruin”).

Verminous Contempt is an energetic and dynamic album. Riffs abound, both searing like Spectral Wound (“Most Vile”) and crushing like Immolation (“Callous Abomination”). Whether slinging neoclassical hooks (“Most Vile”), creating blackened tension (“In the Shadow of Hate”), or expertly shifting tempo (“Reigning in Ruin”), Caswell can count on Schneider and bassist George Van Doorn to provide a solid foundation upon which to drive each track. Transitions are well-timed and flow seamlessly, making the album an enjoyable and smooth listen end to end. Even tastefully and sparingly added dissonance incorporates well into the broader picture (“Reigning in Ruin,” “Nocturnal Cruelty”). But with such obvious songwriting prowess and tight construction, it’s a little frustrating to trudge through several minutes that should have been left on the cutting room floor, including the last third of “Reigning in Ruin” and the entire outro “Oderint Dum Metuant.”

I picked up Verminous Contempt expecting Foetal Juice, but was instead treated to an impressive mix of some of metal’s meanest sounds. Like being blindsided with a brick, Plague Curse comes out swinging and, with the exception of a couple of competent slowdowns, never lets up. Between noteworthy vocals and frenetic yet controlled instrumentation, Verminous Contempt is an enjoyable and easily consumed album. On their debut, Plague Curse establish themselves as a vicious but accessible contender in blackened death circles. With a more enthusiastic scalpel and a little more attention paid to instrumental passages, Plague Curse could easily be a future cornerstone of the genre.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Adirondack Black Mass
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: October 10th, 2025

#2025 #35 #AdirondackBlackMass #Archspire #BlackMetal #BlackenedDeathMetal #BoltThrower #BurdenOfYmir #CattleDecapitation #DeathMetal #FoetalJuice #Immolation #InternationalMetal #LIK #MentalCruelty #MorbidAngel #Oct25 #Pestilence #PlagueCurse #Review #Reviews #SepticFlesh #SpectralWound #Suffocation #VerminousContempt #Watain

Mors Principium Est – Darkness Invisible Review

Mors Principium Est should, for longtime fans of Angry …
#NewsBeep #News #US #USA #UnitedStates #UnitedStatesOfAmerica #Music #...AndDeathSaidLive #2025 #3.5 #AndyGillion #ChildrenofBodom #DarkTranquillity #DarknessInvisible #Entertainment #FinnishMetal #FleshgodApocalypse #JensBogren #Kalmah #MelodicDeathMetal #MorsPrincipiumEst #OrchestralMetal #review #reviews #Sep25 #SepticFlesh #seven #TonyLindgren #Turisas
https://www.newsbeep.com/us/184870/

Mors Principium Est – Darkness Invisible Review

Mors Principium Est should, for longtime fans of Angry …
#NewsBeep #News #US #USA #UnitedStates #UnitedStatesOfAmerica #Music #...AndDeathSaidLive #2025 #3.5 #AndyGillion #ChildrenofBodom #DarkTranquillity #DarknessInvisible #Entertainment #FinnishMetal #FleshgodApocalypse #JensBogren #Kalmah #MelodicDeathMetal #MorsPrincipiumEst #OrchestralMetal #review #reviews #Sep25 #SepticFlesh #seven #TonyLindgren #Turisas
https://www.newsbeep.com/us/184870/

Mors Principium Est – Darkness Invisible Review

By Angry Metal Guy

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mors Principium Est – Darkness Invisible Review

By Angry Metal Guy

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mors Principium Est – Darkness Invisible Review

By Angry Metal Guy

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mors Principium Est – Darkness Invisible Review

By Angry Metal Guy

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mors Principium Est – Darkness Invisible Review

By Angry Metal Guy

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Septicflesh
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TFDV5Vkv8nQ
#youtube_arteconcert #ARTE #Musique #Summer_Breeze_Festival #ARTE_concert #concert #Musik #Metal #Summer_Breeze #SBOA #septicflesh

Nightfall – Children of Eve Review

By Steel Druhm

Greek oddballs, Nightfall have always been unpredictable and difficult to pigeonhole to any one genre or scene. Though they came out of the same scene as Rotting Christ and SepticFlesh, their style wandered over the map much more, flirting with Goth rock, melodeath and various shades of blackened traditional metal. Every time a new album appears, you go in not knowing what to expect. 2021’s At Night We Prey was a dark, brooding affair borrowing from Moonspell and SepticFlesh without fully abandoning their quirks and intrinsic weirdness. Children of Eve stays more or less in the same general vicinity, adding more Goth broth to the pot as they walk the edges of multiple styles. Can they continue their streak of quality releases, or will the wheels finally come of your Rube Goldberg-esque musical contraption?

As with any Nightfall release, it takes a few spins to get a handle on what is going on and whether it works for you. Opener “I Hate” is like a forced marriage between Rotting Christ and SepticFlesh, and though it’s very bombastic and over-the-top, it still works at a core level through sheer blunt force. It’s heavy enough to satisfy, with hooks to tickle the brainpan, and vocalist Efthimis Karadimas’ death bellows work hard to keep you invested. The haunting female vocals that counterpoint his death roars are effective, and the song paints a dark, occult atmosphere. “The Cannibal” ups the heaviness significantly, approximating Behemoth at points while also dropping a chorus that’s so Amon Amarth, that they should start preparing for a raiding party to hit their town. From there things jump around and shift styles. “Lurking” has a grungy black n’ roll energy with more Amon Amarthing wedged in, and “For the Expelled Ones” sounds a lot like the Insomnium’s pairing with Rotting Christ on “White Christ,” with Efthimis mimicing Sakis Tolis vocally. Closer “Christian Svengali” goes for a kind of epic doom and pulls it off, creating a larger-than-life vibe full of drama with smart touches of Goth.

While every track contains moments I like, some simply don’t come together. “Seeking Revenge” adds pop-like female vocals to a groove-heavy melodeath attack that never really takes flight, and “With Outlandish Desire to Disobey” is a night club-friendly goth rocker with poppy female vocals that feels underbaked and flat. Elsewhere, “The Traders of Anathema” fuses epic moments with thrash and groove-metal and it falls short of success. The alchemy that carried them through the last few albums is less prevalent here, and though moments of inspired lunacy appear, only about half the songs really resonate with me and make me want to hear them again. After repeated spins, rather than coming together and making more sense, Children of Eve feels disjointed and patched together with Fruit Stripe gum and duct tape. You can almost hear the styles grinding against each other like tectonic plates rather than coalescing into something interesting. It’s a credit to Nightfall that even when things go pear-shaped, the songs are never outright bad, just tepid.

Efthimis Karadimas is the sole original member and he guides the ship. I’ve always enjoyed his vocals and his flair for the dramatic, and his booming death bellows still carry weight. He also wisely switches up styles enough over the album to avoid sounding one-note. Kostas Kyriakopoulos does a decent job dabbling in riffs from across the metal spectrum and there are high points where he steals the show, though too much of his riffage feels generic and basic. Fotis Giannakopoulos (Nightrage, ex-SepticFlesh) does a fine job brutalizing the skins, thundering along as the band shifts styles and genres on a whim. It’s not a talent issue this time, just a cohesive and memorable writing issue.

Nightfall have a long and unusual track record and they’ve had their share of hits and misses. This is the least compelling release since the early aughts, and though I doubt I’ll be returning to it, I can’t say it’s wholly lacking in merit. If you wish Rotting Christ was more adventurous and freaky, this might resonate, and there are a handful of interesting songs present. It just needs more…Gorilla Glue.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 192 kbps mp3
Label: Season of Mist
Websites: nightfall.gr | nightfallofficial.bandcamp.com | instagram.com/nightfallband
Releases Worldwide: May 2nd, 2025

#25 #2025 #ChildrenOfEve #GothicHeavyMetal #May25 #MelodicDeathMetal #Moonspell #Nightfall #Review #Reviews #RottingChrist #SeasonOfMistRecords #SepticFlesh

Nightfall – Children of Eve Review

By Steel Druhm

Greek oddballs, Nightfall have always been unpredictable and difficult to pigeonhole to any one genre or scene. Though they came out of the same scene as Rotting Christ and SepticFlesh, their style wandered over the map much more, flirting with Goth rock, melodeath and various shades of blackened traditional metal. Every time a new album appears, you go in not knowing what to expect. 2021’s At Night We Prey was a dark, brooding affair borrowing from Moonspell and SepticFlesh without fully abandoning their quirks and intrinsic weirdness. Children of Eve stays more or less in the same general vicinity, adding more Goth broth to the pot as they walk the edges of multiple styles. Can they continue their streak of quality releases, or will the wheels finally come of your Rube Goldberg-esque musical contraption?

As with any Nightfall release, it takes a few spins to get a handle on what is going on and whether it works for you. Opener “I Hate” is like a forced marriage between Rotting Christ and SepticFlesh, and though it’s very bombastic and over-the-top, it still works at a core level through sheer blunt force. It’s heavy enough to satisfy, with hooks to tickle the brainpan, and vocalist Efthimis Karadimas’ death bellows work hard to keep you invested. The haunting female vocals that counterpoint his death roars are effective, and the song paints a dark, occult atmosphere. “The Cannibal” ups the heaviness significantly, approximating Behemoth at points while also dropping a chorus that’s so Amon Amarth, that they should start preparing for a raiding party to hit their town. From there things jump around and shift styles. “Lurking” has a grungy black n’ roll energy with more Amon Amarthing wedged in, and “For the Expelled Ones” sounds a lot like the Insomnium’s pairing with Rotting Christ on “White Christ,” with Efthimis mimicing Sakis Tolis vocally. Closer “Christian Svengali” goes for a kind of epic doom and pulls it off, creating a larger-than-life vibe full of drama with smart touches of Goth.

While every track contains moments I like, some simply don’t come together. “Seeking Revenge” adds pop-like female vocals to a groove-heavy melodeath attack that never really takes flight, and “With Outlandish Desire to Disobey” is a night club-friendly goth rocker with poppy female vocals that feels underbaked and flat. Elsewhere, “The Traders of Anathema” fuses epic moments with thrash and groove-metal and it falls short of success. The alchemy that carried them through the last few albums is less prevalent here, and though moments of inspired lunacy appear, only about half the songs really resonate with me and make me want to hear them again. After repeated spins, rather than coming together and making more sense, Children of Eve feels disjointed and patched together with Fruit Stripe gum and duct tape. You can almost hear the styles grinding against each other like tectonic plates rather than coalescing into something interesting. It’s a credit to Nightfall that even when things go pear-shaped, the songs are never outright bad, just tepid.

Efthimis Karadimas is the sole original member and he guides the ship. I’ve always enjoyed his vocals and his flair for the dramatic, and his booming death bellows still carry weight. He also wisely switches up styles enough over the album to avoid sounding one-note. Kostas Kyriakopoulos does a decent job dabbling in riffs from across the metal spectrum and there are high points where he steals the show, though too much of his riffage feels generic and basic. Fotis Giannakopoulos (Nightrage, ex-SepticFlesh) does a fine job brutalizing the skins, thundering along as the band shifts styles and genres on a whim. It’s not a talent issue this time, just a cohesive and memorable writing issue.

Nightfall have a long and unusual track record and they’ve had their share of hits and misses. This is the least compelling release since the early aughts, and though I doubt I’ll be returning to it, I can’t say it’s wholly lacking in merit. If you wish Rotting Christ was more adventurous and freaky, this might resonate, and there are a handful of interesting songs present. It just needs more…Gorilla Glue.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 192 kbps mp3
Label: Season of Mist
Websites: nightfall.gr | nightfallofficial.bandcamp.com | instagram.com/nightfallband
Releases Worldwide: May 2nd, 2025

#25 #2025 #ChildrenOfEve #GothicHeavyMetal #May25 #MelodicDeathMetal #Moonspell #Nightfall #Review #Reviews #RottingChrist #SeasonOfMistRecords #SepticFlesh

Nightfall – Children of Eve Review

By Steel Druhm

Greek oddballs, Nightfall have always been unpredictable and difficult to pigeonhole to any one genre or scene. Though they came out of the same scene as Rotting Christ and SepticFlesh, their style wandered over the map much more, flirting with Goth rock, melodeath and various shades of blackened traditional metal. Every time a new album appears, you go in not knowing what to expect. 2021’s At Night We Prey was a dark, brooding affair borrowing from Moonspell and SepticFlesh without fully abandoning their quirks and intrinsic weirdness. Children of Eve stays more or less in the same general vicinity, adding more Goth broth to the pot as they walk the edges of multiple styles. Can they continue their streak of quality releases, or will the wheels finally come of your Rube Goldberg-esque musical contraption?

As with any Nightfall release, it takes a few spins to get a handle on what is going on and whether it works for you. Opener “I Hate” is like a forced marriage between Rotting Christ and SepticFlesh, and though it’s very bombastic and over-the-top, it still works at a core level through sheer blunt force. It’s heavy enough to satisfy, with hooks to tickle the brainpan, and vocalist Efthimis Karadimas’ death bellows work hard to keep you invested. The haunting female vocals that counterpoint his death roars are effective, and the song paints a dark, occult atmosphere. “The Cannibal” ups the heaviness significantly, approximating Behemoth at points while also dropping a chorus that’s so Amon Amarth, that they should start preparing for a raiding party to hit their town. From there things jump around and shift styles. “Lurking” has a grungy black n’ roll energy with more Amon Amarthing wedged in, and “For the Expelled Ones” sounds a lot like the Insomnium’s pairing with Rotting Christ on “White Christ,” with Efthimis mimicing Sakis Tolis vocally. Closer “Christian Svengali” goes for a kind of epic doom and pulls it off, creating a larger-than-life vibe full of drama with smart touches of Goth.

While every track contains moments I like, some simply don’t come together. “Seeking Revenge” adds pop-like female vocals to a groove-heavy melodeath attack that never really takes flight, and “With Outlandish Desire to Disobey” is a night club-friendly goth rocker with poppy female vocals that feels underbaked and flat. Elsewhere, “The Traders of Anathema” fuses epic moments with thrash and groove-metal and it falls short of success. The alchemy that carried them through the last few albums is less prevalent here, and though moments of inspired lunacy appear, only about half the songs really resonate with me and make me want to hear them again. After repeated spins, rather than coming together and making more sense, Children of Eve feels disjointed and patched together with Fruit Stripe gum and duct tape. You can almost hear the styles grinding against each other like tectonic plates rather than coalescing into something interesting. It’s a credit to Nightfall that even when things go pear-shaped, the songs are never outright bad, just tepid.

Efthimis Karadimas is the sole original member and he guides the ship. I’ve always enjoyed his vocals and his flair for the dramatic, and his booming death bellows still carry weight. He also wisely switches up styles enough over the album to avoid sounding one-note. Kostas Kyriakopoulos does a decent job dabbling in riffs from across the metal spectrum and there are high points where he steals the show, though too much of his riffage feels generic and basic. Fotis Giannakopoulos (Nightrage, ex-SepticFlesh) does a fine job brutalizing the skins, thundering along as the band shifts styles and genres on a whim. It’s not a talent issue this time, just a cohesive and memorable writing issue.

Nightfall have a long and unusual track record and they’ve had their share of hits and misses. This is the least compelling release since the early aughts, and though I doubt I’ll be returning to it, I can’t say it’s wholly lacking in merit. If you wish Rotting Christ was more adventurous and freaky, this might resonate, and there are a handful of interesting songs present. It just needs more…Gorilla Glue.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 192 kbps mp3
Label: Season of Mist
Websites: nightfall.gr | nightfallofficial.bandcamp.com | instagram.com/nightfallband
Releases Worldwide: May 2nd, 2025

#25 #2025 #ChildrenOfEve #GothicHeavyMetal #May25 #MelodicDeathMetal #Moonspell #Nightfall #Review #Reviews #RottingChrist #SeasonOfMistRecords #SepticFlesh

Nightfall – Children of Eve Review

By Steel Druhm

Greek oddballs, Nightfall have always been unpredictable and difficult to pigeonhole to any one genre or scene. Though they came out of the same scene as Rotting Christ and SepticFlesh, their style wandered over the map much more, flirting with Goth rock, melodeath and various shades of blackened traditional metal. Every time a new album appears, you go in not knowing what to expect. 2021’s At Night We Prey was a dark, brooding affair borrowing from Moonspell and SepticFlesh without fully abandoning their quirks and intrinsic weirdness. Children of Eve stays more or less in the same general vicinity, adding more Goth broth to the pot as they walk the edges of multiple styles. Can they continue their streak of quality releases, or will the wheels finally come of your Rube Goldberg-esque musical contraption?

As with any Nightfall release, it takes a few spins to get a handle on what is going on and whether it works for you. Opener “I Hate” is like a forced marriage between Rotting Christ and SepticFlesh, and though it’s very bombastic and over-the-top, it still works at a core level through sheer blunt force. It’s heavy enough to satisfy, with hooks to tickle the brainpan, and vocalist Efthimis Karadimas’ death bellows work hard to keep you invested. The haunting female vocals that counterpoint his death roars are effective, and the song paints a dark, occult atmosphere. “The Cannibal” ups the heaviness significantly, approximating Behemoth at points while also dropping a chorus that’s so Amon Amarth, that they should start preparing for a raiding party to hit their town. From there things jump around and shift styles. “Lurking” has a grungy black n’ roll energy with more Amon Amarthing wedged in, and “For the Expelled Ones” sounds a lot like the Insomnium’s pairing with Rotting Christ on “White Christ,” with Efthimis mimicing Sakis Tolis vocally. Closer “Christian Svengali” goes for a kind of epic doom and pulls it off, creating a larger-than-life vibe full of drama with smart touches of Goth.

While every track contains moments I like, some simply don’t come together. “Seeking Revenge” adds pop-like female vocals to a groove-heavy melodeath attack that never really takes flight, and “With Outlandish Desire to Disobey” is a night club-friendly goth rocker with poppy female vocals that feels underbaked and flat. Elsewhere, “The Traders of Anathema” fuses epic moments with thrash and groove-metal and it falls short of success. The alchemy that carried them through the last few albums is less prevalent here, and though moments of inspired lunacy appear, only about half the songs really resonate with me and make me want to hear them again. After repeated spins, rather than coming together and making more sense, Children of Eve feels disjointed and patched together with Fruit Stripe gum and duct tape. You can almost hear the styles grinding against each other like tectonic plates rather than coalescing into something interesting. It’s a credit to Nightfall that even when things go pear-shaped, the songs are never outright bad, just tepid.

Efthimis Karadimas is the sole original member and he guides the ship. I’ve always enjoyed his vocals and his flair for the dramatic, and his booming death bellows still carry weight. He also wisely switches up styles enough over the album to avoid sounding one-note. Kostas Kyriakopoulos does a decent job dabbling in riffs from across the metal spectrum and there are high points where he steals the show, though too much of his riffage feels generic and basic. Fotis Giannakopoulos (Nightrage, ex-SepticFlesh) does a fine job brutalizing the skins, thundering along as the band shifts styles and genres on a whim. It’s not a talent issue this time, just a cohesive and memorable writing issue.

Nightfall have a long and unusual track record and they’ve had their share of hits and misses. This is the least compelling release since the early aughts, and though I doubt I’ll be returning to it, I can’t say it’s wholly lacking in merit. If you wish Rotting Christ was more adventurous and freaky, this might resonate, and there are a handful of interesting songs present. It just needs more…Gorilla Glue.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 192 kbps mp3
Label: Season of Mist
Websites: nightfall.gr | nightfallofficial.bandcamp.com | instagram.com/nightfallband
Releases Worldwide: May 2nd, 2025

#25 #2025 #ChildrenOfEve #GothicHeavyMetal #May25 #MelodicDeathMetal #Moonspell #Nightfall #Review #Reviews #RottingChrist #SeasonOfMistRecords #SepticFlesh

Euphrosyne – Morus Review

By Iceberg

Death is an omnipresent theme in metal, and art in general, but the subject matter is especially poignant when approached by survivors of its trauma. Post-black quartet Euphrosyne tackle the loss of a loved one, in this case songwriter Alex Despotidis’ mother, on their debut LP, Morus. Post-black seems an appropriate style for the Greeks, with a focus on atmosphere, melody, and stillness to balance black metal fury. While the lyrics are credited to frontwoman Efi Eva, all the music was composed by Despotidis, an unenviable but hopefully cathartic duty for someone who just lost a parent. Observing the grieving process always feels a bit intrusive, and Morus reveals itself to be an intensely personal collection of songs. Nevertheless, the motionless death shroud on Morus’ cover invites the listener into a journey of pain, death, and that which remains.

Euphrosyne isn’t content to paint themselves into a post-black corner. Efi Eva is a convincing, multi-faceted vocalist, and her chameleon-like vocal performance drives the different moods of Morus. Her clean soprano, not unlike Evanescence’s Amy Lee, guides the acoustic sections, featuring reverb-drenched piano melodies and simple, plucked guitar lines (“Morus,” “Valley of White”), while also unleashing impressive hardcore shouts (“Asphodel”) and black metal roars (“Lilac Ward”). Despotidis’ lead guitar acts as a counterpoint, his soaring melodies anchoring instrumental sections (“Funeral Rites,” “Mitera”). Euphrosyne’s rhythm section is dependable, deploying predictable blasting alongside less predictable odd time signatures and filtered grooves akin to Mer de Noms-era A Perfect Circle (“Valley of White,” “Eulogy”). At its heart, Morus is a narrative album, and Euphrosyne wisely employ different sounds and styles to shape the story as its told.

Euphrosyne excel at painting the tale of death with their music. From the pivotal moment of “July 21st” where Eva takes her ethereal clean tone and warps it into a furious snarl, the listener sits sidecar to Despotidis’ grieving process. The frustrated proselytizing of “Eulogy,” the spiraling guitar riff closing “Funeral Rites” (perhaps signifying the lowering of a casket), and the wailing guitar melody of “Mitera” that segues into “Asphodel” feels more at home in the theater than the recording studio. Spoken word, all in the band’s native Greek, humanizes the performance and reinforces the narrative concept (“Morus,” “Mitera”). While the production shows its limits in the black metal riffage, Euphrosyne know how to use silence and space when it counts, particularly at the edges of their songs (“Morus,” “Funeral Rites”). Morus is also edited well, running at a well-rounded 43 minutes with not much fat to trim. The slimmer run time allows the listener to fully appreciate the story on their first pass, and then discover layering and thematic through-lines on repeats.

Euphrosyne drip creativity with their more adventurous sections, but they seem to move to the tried and true side of melodic metal elsewhere. Eva’s performance is solid throughout, but the constant reliance on a clean vocal chorus becomes rote by the end of the album. The black metal passages of the album, while serving their role as a pressure valve for the music’s pent-up emotion, feel by-the-numbers and more like a bridge between the more exciting, less heavy moments. Production is handled by Psychon of Septicflesh fame, and while the mixing/mastering job lends the quieter parts of Morus breathing room, the crushed DR5 rips any sense of dynamic from the black metal blasting and trilling, an industry-standard approach that takes away from Euphrosyne’s unique take on the genre. Its difficult to pinpoint specific songs that work better than others since they all contain aspects of the “post and the black,” but it’s easy to see after a couple weeks of focused listens that Euphrosyne shine in the empty spaces when they’re less restricted to a post-black label.

Despite these gripes, Morus is a deeply affecting album, one that moved me more the longer I left it to marinate. I don’t know that singular pain of losing a parent, but I know the pain of losing someone very close to me, and Despotidis’ memoir has brushed that scar tissue. Though this score may seem to describe a somewhat middling listening experience, I highly recommend this album for fans of dark, weighty music that tells a story. I think with some fine-tuning, Euphrosyne have quite the mark to make in the post-black world. Until their next effort, I’ll keep Morus in my back pocket for the grey days when I need to commiserate with another wounded soul.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Black Lion Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: March 21st, 2025

#2025 #30 #APerfectCircle #BlackLionRecords #BlackMetal #Euphrosyne #Evanescence #GothicMetal #GreekMetal #Mar25 #MelodicMetal #Morus #PostMetal #Review #Reviews #SepticFlesh

Kerberos – Apostle to the Malevolent Review

By Saunders

Symphonic death is a tricky subgenre to nail. While there are skilled exponents, bands peddling the dramatic style tread a fine line in balancing the ornate orchestral elements and heavy-hitting metal, without diminishing one or the other of the fused components. Such as the symphonic elements feeling tacked on or the metal edge blunted. Overall, it’s a mixed formula for yours truly, though I am certainly not opposed to the style when executed well (Fleshgod Apocalypse, Zornheym, Septicflesh, Dreamgrave). Hailing from Switzerland and sporting a bombastic, prog-infected symphonic death sound, unheralded act Kerberos aim to make their mark on the scene with their second album, Apostle to the Malevolent. Not one to do the style in half measures, Apostle to the Malevolent jams a multitude of orchestral elements and symphonic flair to otherwise traditional metal instrumentation, creating a colorful sound that on surface levels ticks all the boxes for a good time for enthusiasts of the style. Kerberos manage to cram all their sophisticated ideas, choirs and orchestra into a lean runtime, clocking in a shade under the half-hour mark. But can Kerberos back up the bombast and efficiency with gripping songwriting?

The first couple of the five tracks comprising Apostle to the Malevolent will likely weed out the non-believers. Opening instrumental “Praeludium in H Moli” plays into the band’s flair for orchestral dramatics with mixed results, setting the scene for first proper track, “Near-Violence Experience.” Apostle to the Malevolent credits a Kerberos choir and orchestra in addition to the core foursome. The elaborate nature of the band’s vision is reflected in the song’s crunchy riffs, busy arrangement, densely layered instrumentation, and dueling male-female vox; ranging from operatic female contributions and a strange mix of deep male clean singing and harsher growls. It’s an ambitious tune, if a little scattershot. The impressive musicianship, countered by the overstuffed and convoluted nature of the arrangement, prevents it fully lifting off.

Vocally, the male cleans come across as melodramatic and more than a little cheesy. However, Ai-lan Metzger’s stirring vocals and accompanying choirs lend the album a vibrant voice to match the swelling orchestral touches. When traded off with the harsher variations, the impact is more forceful. On the other hand, Félicien Burkard (who also handles guitars and fretless bass) clean vox are an unwelcome distraction. Kerberos lean further into the goth-tinged symphonic dramatics on “Alpine Sea,” another example of the band’s solid skills and exuberant talents, marred by a longer than needed runtime and questionable vocal transitions. The most successful example of Kerberos’ talents resides in mid-album cut “Liar Within.” it doesn’t greatly deviate from the rest of the album. However, the ingredients flow with greater fluency, while the increased aggression, speed and thrashy urges lend some extra punch to the soaring vocal hooks and lush symphonics.

Song length remains a recurring issue. As previously stated, the album is short and sweet, though several individual tracks struggle to maintain interest across their heftier lengths (including nine-minute closer “Apostle to the Malevolent”). On the plus side, some tasty material is scattered throughout, flashing the potential for Kerberos to deliver something more substantial and fully formed down the track. Importantly for any symphonic metal project, the orchestral elements don’t sound like tacked on afterthoughts, bolstered by a bright, dynamic production. However, occasionally the instruments seem to fight and jostle for space, creating a clunkier feel to certain sections, leading to some overkill and awkward results. This may present a case for Kerberos and their additional friends to refine and declutter their sound to more potent effect. The mixed bag vocals also require some work, the attempts at deeper growls and Burkard’s questionable cleans could use some tuning up.

Symphonic metal can go either way for me, and I am often especially selective with what floats my boat. Kerberos deliver an intriguing LP, featuring enough positives to find a solid audience on board with their particular brand of grandiosity and gothy-drama. Unfortunately, Apostle to the Malevolent is a messy affair, which feels unnecessarily bloated and convoluted despite its scant length. When they hone their songwriting focus into more aggressive, urgent realms and let the riffs do the heavy lifting, the band’s potential shines brightly. There remains some solid material and classy elements, with ample room for growth and refinement for Kerberos to match their ambitious vision with tighter songwriting chops.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Self-Released
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: March 14th, 2025

#25 #2025 #ApostleToTheMalevolent #Dreamgrave #FleshgodApocalypse #IndependentRelease #Kerberos #ProgressiveMetal #Review #Reviews #SelfRelease #SepticFlesh #SwissMetal #SymphonicDeathMetal #SymphonicMetal #Zornheym

Concert Calendar (02/20-03/02) The Music We Love: Swallow the Sun, Aborted, & more:

#ConcertCalendar #SwallowTheSun #Aborted #Septicflesh #Gigs #Tours

Link: https://metalinsider.net/touring/concert-calendar-02-20-03-02-the-music-we-love-swallow-the-sun-aborted-more

Photos/Review: The Modern Primitive Tour w/ Septicflesh, VLTIMAS, Stormruler & SIGLOS celebrate Valentine’s Day in San Diego:

#Septicflesh #Vltimas #Stormruler #Siglos #BrickByBrick #SanDiego #Photos #Review #ModernPrimitiveTour

Link: https://metalinsider.net/photos/photos-review-the-modern-primitive-tour-w-septicflesh-vltimas-stormruler-siglos-celebrate-valentines-day-in-san-diego

Photos/Review: The Modern Primitive Tour w/ Septicflesh, VLTIMAS, Stormruler & SIGLOS celebrate Valentine’s Day in San Diego:

#Septicflesh #Vltimas #Stormruler #Siglos #BrickByBrick #SanDiego #Photos #Review #ModernPrimitiveTour

Link: https://metalinsider.net/photos/photos-review-the-modern-primitive-tour-w-septicflesh-vltimas-stormruler-siglos-celebrate-valentines-day-in-san-diego

#Septicflesh - Amphibians

Ho trovato una canzone per te... Amphibians di Septicflesh 🔥 Ascoltala ora su #Deezer https://deezer.page.link/hB7DaVMiyv2DcGec9

#deathmetal #metalmusic #brandnewmusic #mastoradio

#Septicflesh - Amphibians

Ho trovato una canzone per te... Amphibians di Septicflesh 🔥 Ascoltala ora su #Deezer https://deezer.page.link/hB7DaVMiyv2DcGec9

#deathmetal #metalmusic #brandnewmusic #mastoradio

For @sariash's #SymphonicMonday:

#Septicflesh: Psychohistory

https://song.link/bh23gstpjnqmb

#SymphonicDeathMetal

FFO #Aquilus #FleshgodApocalypse #HandOfKalliach

Septicflesh announce 2025 North American Winter Tour w/ Vltimas & Ex Deo:

#Septicflesh #ExDeo #Vltimas #TourAlert #NorthAmericanTour #2025Tour

https://metalinsider.net/touring/septicflesh-announce-2025-north-american-winter-tour-w-vltimas-ex-deo

ACOD – Versets noirs Review

By Dr. A.N. Grier

How I’ve never known about France’s ACOD is beyond me, and I heartily apologize to them because I’ve been having a hella good time with many of their releases. Beginning their career as a black/thrash outfit with metalcore tendencies, they began to explore Mephorash-meets-Septicflesh territories around the time of their 2018 release, The Divine Triumph. While there are thrashy moments, the songwriting is now predominantly massive string atmospheres, marching drumbeats, cranked-up bass work, and riff after motherfucking riff. Each song is a rollercoaster ride, continuously rising and falling throughout, leaving you wondering which pain level you’ll hit next. As of 2002’s mighty Fourth Reign over Opacities and Beyond, the band has been led by two founding members Fred and Jérome—the first lending his voice to these opuses and the second doing… well, everything else. But does Versets noirs have what it takes to widen the expanse left behind by its predecessor?

Versets noirs continues where Fourth Reign over Opacities and Beyond left off. But, its structure and delivery are very different from anything they’ve done before. Typical releases are in the forty to fifty-minute range with nine to thirteen songs each. Instead, Versets noirs consists of five (I repeat, five songs) in forty-two minutes, with a heavy cover of Samael’s classic “Black Trip” closing it out. But, it’s not like a typical bonus cover inclusion as it fits the album well, and closes it out perfectly. Aside from that, they also made a bold move by beginning the record with a twenty-plus-minute opening track. Freddy Boy also digs deeper into his vocal repertoire to add more diversity than the previous album, without going into the weirdness of their older material. All this combined makes Versets noirs probably the most unique release in ACOD’s fifteen-year career.

“Habentis Maleficia” begins with some slow, growing dissonance that settles into a smooth groove when the vocals surface. It’s a gigantic piece that includes rasps, French spoken-word segments, and booming cleans on the back end. Its foundation revolves around constant builds, falls, and rebuilds—morphing from one emotion to another. At one point, we are charging through Gorgorothian melodies and concrete-splitting black metal assaults. And, the next, we are soothed with calming piano work and string atmospheres. There are moments of impressive dual guitar work where, when played on headphones, each ear is combated by a different lead. And, sometimes, the bass rises above the foam to take charge in popping, rumbling beauty. On the back half, you’ll even find death assaults with vocals pulled deep from the diaphragm, and even a short passage where the band ventures into Southern, Pantera-esque territories. It’s a fucking wild ride but when its melodic climb to the final summit comes, it’s well worth the wait.

“The Son of a God (The Heir of Divine Blood)” is probably my favorite, kicking hard with a killer riff and guitar tone that reminds me of earlier Old Man’s Child. When it settles into its groove, the vocals match its step nicely to deliver a headbangable experience. But for all its aggressiveness, the song ventures into melodic atmospheres, alternating moods from wanting to rip one’s face off to wanting to cry. When the bass takes the reigns, we soar to new heights. During these moments, the atmosphere reaches the clouds, intermingling rasps with big, booming cleans as the piano surfaces and engulfs the entire thing in hopeless melodies. But, “May This World Burn” has to be the most unique piece on the album. It takes all the elements of the previous tracks and adds even more. Misleading you with some soft strings in the intro, it transitions to the most badass riff on the record. Between the flailing guitars and hard-hitting drums, this thing is ferocious. Then, it gets really interesting as the dual guitar work passes from Mors Principium Est influences to old-school Arsis death/thrash territories. But, after pulverizing you for seven-plus minutes, it concludes in the same beautiful fashion as it began.

As a whole, I prefer Fourth Reign over Opacities and Beyond to Versets noirs. But that doesn’t mean this new record is any less engaging than its predecessor. The fact that it continues where the previous one left off is exactly what I wanted from ACOD. It’s a forward movement on a sound and songwriting style that fits the band far more than the black/thrash days of Point Zero and First Earth Poison. With a rich master, every instrument finds its place in every moment of every song. The massive amount of riffs is shocking, the performances are tight as Hell, and the aforementioned vocal diversity lends well to the album’s overall theme. Perhaps they could have concluded the record with an original track, but the Samael cover does add texture to the record. If you like big, black metal atmospheres and wild, cross-genre influences, this album is for you.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Hammerheart Records
Websites: acod.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/acodband
Releases Worldwide: April 26th, 2024

#2024 #35 #ACOD #Apr24 #Arsis #BlackMetal #DeathMetal #FrenchMetal #Gorgoroth #HammerheartRecords #Mephorash #MorsPrincipiumEst #OldManSChild #Pantera #Review #Reviews #Samael #SepticFlesh #VersetsNoirs

ACOD – Versets noirs Review

By Dr. A.N. Grier

How I’ve never known about France’s ACOD is beyond me, and I heartily apologize to them because I’ve been having a hella good time with many of their releases. Beginning their career as a black/thrash outfit with metalcore tendencies, they began to explore Mephorash-meets-Septicflesh territories around the time of their 2018 release, The Divine Triumph. While there are thrashy moments, the songwriting is now predominantly massive string atmospheres, marching drumbeats, cranked-up bass work, and riff after motherfucking riff. Each song is a rollercoaster ride, continuously rising and falling throughout, leaving you wondering which pain level you’ll hit next. As of 2002’s mighty Fourth Reign over Opacities and Beyond, the band has been led by two founding members Fred and Jérome—the first lending his voice to these opuses and the second doing… well, everything else. But does Versets noirs have what it takes to widen the expanse left behind by its predecessor?

Versets noirs continues where Fourth Reign over Opacities and Beyond left off. But, its structure and delivery are very different from anything they’ve done before. Typical releases are in the forty to fifty-minute range with nine to thirteen songs each. Instead, Versets noirs consists of five (I repeat, five songs) in forty-two minutes, with a heavy cover of Samael’s classic “Black Trip” closing it out. But, it’s not like a typical bonus cover inclusion as it fits the album well, and closes it out perfectly. Aside from that, they also made a bold move by beginning the record with a twenty-plus-minute opening track. Freddy Boy also digs deeper into his vocal repertoire to add more diversity than the previous album, without going into the weirdness of their older material. All this combined makes Versets noirs probably the most unique release in ACOD’s fifteen-year career.

“Habentis Maleficia” begins with some slow, growing dissonance that settles into a smooth groove when the vocals surface. It’s a gigantic piece that includes rasps, French spoken-word segments, and booming cleans on the back end. Its foundation revolves around constant builds, falls, and rebuilds—morphing from one emotion to another. At one point, we are charging through Gorgorothian melodies and concrete-splitting black metal assaults. And, the next, we are soothed with calming piano work and string atmospheres. There are moments of impressive dual guitar work where, when played on headphones, each ear is combated by a different lead. And, sometimes, the bass rises above the foam to take charge in popping, rumbling beauty. On the back half, you’ll even find death assaults with vocals pulled deep from the diaphragm, and even a short passage where the band ventures into Southern, Pantera-esque territories. It’s a fucking wild ride but when its melodic climb to the final summit comes, it’s well worth the wait.

“The Son of a God (The Heir of Divine Blood)” is probably my favorite, kicking hard with a killer riff and guitar tone that reminds me of earlier Old Man’s Child. When it settles into its groove, the vocals match its step nicely to deliver a headbangable experience. But for all its aggressiveness, the song ventures into melodic atmospheres, alternating moods from wanting to rip one’s face off to wanting to cry. When the bass takes the reigns, we soar to new heights. During these moments, the atmosphere reaches the clouds, intermingling rasps with big, booming cleans as the piano surfaces and engulfs the entire thing in hopeless melodies. But, “May This World Burn” has to be the most unique piece on the album. It takes all the elements of the previous tracks and adds even more. Misleading you with some soft strings in the intro, it transitions to the most badass riff on the record. Between the flailing guitars and hard-hitting drums, this thing is ferocious. Then, it gets really interesting as the dual guitar work passes from Mors Principium Est influences to old-school Arsis death/thrash territories. But, after pulverizing you for seven-plus minutes, it concludes in the same beautiful fashion as it began.

As a whole, I prefer Fourth Reign over Opacities and Beyond to Versets noirs. But that doesn’t mean this new record is any less engaging than its predecessor. The fact that it continues where the previous one left off is exactly what I wanted from ACOD. It’s a forward movement on a sound and songwriting style that fits the band far more than the black/thrash days of Point Zero and First Earth Poison. With a rich master, every instrument finds its place in every moment of every song. The massive amount of riffs is shocking, the performances are tight as Hell, and the aforementioned vocal diversity lends well to the album’s overall theme. Perhaps they could have concluded the record with an original track, but the Samael cover does add texture to the record. If you like big, black metal atmospheres and wild, cross-genre influences, this album is for you.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Hammerheart Records
Websites: acod.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/acodband
Releases Worldwide: April 26th, 2024

#2024 #35 #ACOD #Apr24 #Arsis #BlackMetal #DeathMetal #FrenchMetal #Gorgoroth #HammerheartRecords #Mephorash #MorsPrincipiumEst #OldManSChild #Pantera #Review #Reviews #Samael #SepticFlesh #VersetsNoirs