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Illwind – The Unfolding at the End of Light Review

Sometimes a new band starts up and chooses a godawful n…
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https://www.newsbeep.com/uk/705448/

Sometimes a new band starts up and chooses a godawful name—like Illwind. I’m not just referring to associations with flatulence either—though that certainly doesn’t help. It’s just a difficult name to research, especially for a band with such a small web presence. Google will direct you to the Radiohead song, “Ill Wind,” or a 1960s psychedelic band from Boston called Ill Wind, among other surprisingly numerous use cases for the term “ill wind.” In fact, I began to have some doubts the band was real, but further research shows they do have a label (Personal Records) as well as a list of band members who have a history in Peruvian bands like Arcada, Argul, and Cobra.1 Having established this as a legitimate act with some experienced musicians, the final piece of the puzzle to solve is whether Illwind’s debut album, The Unfolding at the End of Light, is any good.

Illwind is a stoner doom outfit that creatively blends genres in some pretty groovy ways. Epic opener “Crimson Skies” gives you the first hint that things aren’t what they seem on the surface. After the song opens with the slow, plodding pace of funeral doom, vocalist Marcos Coifman’s baritone upends expectations by calling to mind the epic tones of Sorcerer and Visigoth. The funeral doom transforms into classic stoner doom with hints of Black Sabbath before ending on a series of elaborate guitar solos that have the spirit of ’70s rock acts like Lynyrd Skynyrd and the psychedelia of Pink Floyd and Blood Incantation. That The Unfolding at the End of Light ends on a cover by The Stooges, “I Wanna Be Your Dog,” tells us that Illwind doesn’t exactly have modernity in mind, and yet what they have crafted sounds fresh and sometimes exciting.

At heart, this is a work of stoner doom, with a plodding, relaxed pace and enough reverb on the guitar to give off the genre’s usual chill vibes. Illwind aims for exploration, falling securely in the school of Windhand, YOB, and Black Sabbath. They’re in no hurry, but they also don’t hold back the hooks. The guitars from Mauricio Guerrero hit all the right notes, providing distinctive stoner riffs from one song to another. And just when the tracks are about to hit their quota of stoner, he and fellow guitarist Andrés Rhor get creative with solos that transport you to another time and place like Bill and Ted stepping into a magic phone booth. It’s no hallucination if you see their solos come to life—they breathe and grow and take over a tune in a way that can be exhilarating.

How much you enjoy this depends on your level of tolerance of the stoner doom genre itself. Illwind are at their best when they go off the stoner script. The main issue is their stoner stuff can be a bit generic. This is especially true of some of the longer songs, like “God of Sleep” and the thirteen-minute “Lucifer’s Mule,” which grow repetitive. It works best in smaller doses: “Portal” and “Wanderer,” both around five minutes, provide the perfect amount of stoner riffs before breaking into the classic-sounding solos. Coifman’s voice, similarly, is good in doses, but over time his monotonous delivery adds to a feeling of stagnancy. Admittedly, though, when he opens up “Lucifer’s Mule” by singing “Tell me Lucifer” in his best impression of Ozzy, it’s a highlight of the record.

The Unfolding at the End of Light proves a good debut for a band whose members have experience in a mix of genres, from black metal to heavy metal to stoner doom. As innovative as Illwind proves to be in blending several old school genres, they’re not quite so innovative in their base genre of stoner doom. They write and play some good stuff, and with some refined songwriting, they could perfect their blend of genres or even give their stoner riffs a little more pizzazz. In the end, though, I think Illwind achieve success. This is a chill record with some outstanding moments that will have you stop and just say, “Whoa.”

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Personal Records
Website: Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: July 3rd 2026

Sometimes a new band starts up and chooses a godawful name—like Illwind. I’m not just referring to associations with flatulence either—though that certainly doesn’t help. It’s just a difficult name to research, especially for a band with such a small web presence. Google will direct you to the Radiohead song, “Ill Wind,” or a 1960s psychedelic band from Boston called Ill Wind, among other surprisingly numerous use cases for the term “ill wind.” In fact, I began to have some doubts the band was real, but further research shows they do have a label (Personal Records) as well as a list of band members who have a history in Peruvian bands like Arcada, Argul, and Cobra.1 Having established this as a legitimate act with some experienced musicians, the final piece of the puzzle to solve is whether Illwind’s debut album, The Unfolding at the End of Light, is any good.

Illwind is a stoner doom outfit that creatively blends genres in some pretty groovy ways. Epic opener “Crimson Skies” gives you the first hint that things aren’t what they seem on the surface. After the song opens with the slow, plodding pace of funeral doom, vocalist Marcos Coifman’s baritone upends expectations by calling to mind the epic tones of Sorcerer and Visigoth. The funeral doom transforms into classic stoner doom with hints of Black Sabbath before ending on a series of elaborate guitar solos that have the spirit of ’70s rock acts like Lynyrd Skynyrd and the psychedelia of Pink Floyd and Blood Incantation. That The Unfolding at the End of Light ends on a cover by The Stooges, “I Wanna Be Your Dog,” tells us that Illwind doesn’t exactly have modernity in mind, and yet what they have crafted sounds fresh and sometimes exciting.

At heart, this is a work of stoner doom, with a plodding, relaxed pace and enough reverb on the guitar to give off the genre’s usual chill vibes. Illwind aims for exploration, falling securely in the school of Windhand, YOB, and Black Sabbath. They’re in no hurry, but they also don’t hold back the hooks. The guitars from Mauricio Guerrero hit all the right notes, providing distinctive stoner riffs from one song to another. And just when the tracks are about to hit their quota of stoner, he and fellow guitarist Andrés Rhor get creative with solos that transport you to another time and place like Bill and Ted stepping into a magic phone booth. It’s no hallucination if you see their solos come to life—they breathe and grow and take over a tune in a way that can be exhilarating.

How much you enjoy this depends on your level of tolerance of the stoner doom genre itself. Illwind are at their best when they go off the stoner script. The main issue is their stoner stuff can be a bit generic. This is especially true of some of the longer songs, like “God of Sleep” and the thirteen-minute “Lucifer’s Mule,” which grow repetitive. It works best in smaller doses: “Portal” and “Wanderer,” both around five minutes, provide the perfect amount of stoner riffs before breaking into the classic-sounding solos. Coifman’s voice, similarly, is good in doses, but over time his monotonous delivery adds to a feeling of stagnancy. Admittedly, though, when he opens up “Lucifer’s Mule” by singing “Tell me Lucifer” in his best impression of Ozzy, it’s a highlight of the record.

The Unfolding at the End of Light proves a good debut for a band whose members have experience in a mix of genres, from black metal to heavy metal to stoner doom. As innovative as Illwind proves to be in blending several old school genres, they’re not quite so innovative in their base genre of stoner doom. They write and play some good stuff, and with some refined songwriting, they could perfect their blend of genres or even give their stoner riffs a little more pizzazz. In the end, though, I think Illwind achieve success. This is a chill record with some outstanding moments that will have you stop and just say, “Whoa.”

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Personal Records
Website: Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: July 3rd 2026

Sometimes a new band starts up and chooses a godawful name—like Illwind. I’m not just referring to associations with flatulence either—though that certainly doesn’t help. It’s just a difficult name to research, especially for a band with such a small web presence. Google will direct you to the Radiohead song, “Ill Wind,” or a 1960s psychedelic band from Boston called Ill Wind, among other surprisingly numerous use cases for the term “ill wind.” In fact, I began to have some doubts the band was real, but further research shows they do have a label (Personal Records) as well as a list of band members who have a history in Peruvian bands like Arcada, Argul, and Cobra.1 Having established this as a legitimate act with some experienced musicians, the final piece of the puzzle to solve is whether Illwind’s debut album, The Unfolding at the End of Light, is any good.

Illwind is a stoner doom outfit that creatively blends genres in some pretty groovy ways. Epic opener “Crimson Skies” gives you the first hint that things aren’t what they seem on the surface. After the song opens with the slow, plodding pace of funeral doom, vocalist Marcos Coifman’s baritone upends expectations by calling to mind the epic tones of Sorcerer and Visigoth. The funeral doom transforms into classic stoner doom with hints of Black Sabbath before ending on a series of elaborate guitar solos that have the spirit of ’70s rock acts like Lynyrd Skynyrd and the psychedelia of Pink Floyd and Blood Incantation. That The Unfolding at the End of Light ends on a cover by The Stooges, “I Wanna Be Your Dog,” tells us that Illwind doesn’t exactly have modernity in mind, and yet what they have crafted sounds fresh and sometimes exciting.

At heart, this is a work of stoner doom, with a plodding, relaxed pace and enough reverb on the guitar to give off the genre’s usual chill vibes. Illwind aims for exploration, falling securely in the school of Windhand, YOB, and Black Sabbath. They’re in no hurry, but they also don’t hold back the hooks. The guitars from Mauricio Guerrero hit all the right notes, providing distinctive stoner riffs from one song to another. And just when the tracks are about to hit their quota of stoner, he and fellow guitarist Andrés Rhor get creative with solos that transport you to another time and place like Bill and Ted stepping into a magic phone booth. It’s no hallucination if you see their solos come to life—they breathe and grow and take over a tune in a way that can be exhilarating.

How much you enjoy this depends on your level of tolerance of the stoner doom genre itself. Illwind are at their best when they go off the stoner script. The main issue is their stoner stuff can be a bit generic. This is especially true of some of the longer songs, like “God of Sleep” and the thirteen-minute “Lucifer’s Mule,” which grow repetitive. It works best in smaller doses: “Portal” and “Wanderer,” both around five minutes, provide the perfect amount of stoner riffs before breaking into the classic-sounding solos. Coifman’s voice, similarly, is good in doses, but over time his monotonous delivery adds to a feeling of stagnancy. Admittedly, though, when he opens up “Lucifer’s Mule” by singing “Tell me Lucifer” in his best impression of Ozzy, it’s a highlight of the record.

The Unfolding at the End of Light proves a good debut for a band whose members have experience in a mix of genres, from black metal to heavy metal to stoner doom. As innovative as Illwind proves to be in blending several old school genres, they’re not quite so innovative in their base genre of stoner doom. They write and play some good stuff, and with some refined songwriting, they could perfect their blend of genres or even give their stoner riffs a little more pizzazz. In the end, though, I think Illwind achieve success. This is a chill record with some outstanding moments that will have you stop and just say, “Whoa.”

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Personal Records
Website: Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: July 3rd 2026

Sometimes a new band starts up and chooses a godawful name—like Illwind. I’m not just referring to associations with flatulence either—though that certainly doesn’t help. It’s just a difficult name to research, especially for a band with such a small web presence. Google will direct you to the Radiohead song, “Ill Wind,” or a 1960s psychedelic band from Boston called Ill Wind, among other surprisingly numerous use cases for the term “ill wind.” In fact, I began to have some doubts the band was real, but further research shows they do have a label (Personal Records) as well as a list of band members who have a history in Peruvian bands like Arcada, Argul, and Cobra.1 Having established this as a legitimate act with some experienced musicians, the final piece of the puzzle to solve is whether Illwind’s debut album, The Unfolding at the End of Light, is any good.

Illwind is a stoner doom outfit that creatively blends genres in some pretty groovy ways. Epic opener “Crimson Skies” gives you the first hint that things aren’t what they seem on the surface. After the song opens with the slow, plodding pace of funeral doom, vocalist Marcos Coifman’s baritone upends expectations by calling to mind the epic tones of Sorcerer and Visigoth. The funeral doom transforms into classic stoner doom with hints of Black Sabbath before ending on a series of elaborate guitar solos that have the spirit of ’70s rock acts like Lynyrd Skynyrd and the psychedelia of Pink Floyd and Blood Incantation. That The Unfolding at the End of Light ends on a cover by The Stooges, “I Wanna Be Your Dog,” tells us that Illwind doesn’t exactly have modernity in mind, and yet what they have crafted sounds fresh and sometimes exciting.

At heart, this is a work of stoner doom, with a plodding, relaxed pace and enough reverb on the guitar to give off the genre’s usual chill vibes. Illwind aims for exploration, falling securely in the school of Windhand, YOB, and Black Sabbath. They’re in no hurry, but they also don’t hold back the hooks. The guitars from Mauricio Guerrero hit all the right notes, providing distinctive stoner riffs from one song to another. And just when the tracks are about to hit their quota of stoner, he and fellow guitarist Andrés Rhor get creative with solos that transport you to another time and place like Bill and Ted stepping into a magic phone booth. It’s no hallucination if you see their solos come to life—they breathe and grow and take over a tune in a way that can be exhilarating.

How much you enjoy this depends on your level of tolerance of the stoner doom genre itself. Illwind are at their best when they go off the stoner script. The main issue is their stoner stuff can be a bit generic. This is especially true of some of the longer songs, like “God of Sleep” and the thirteen-minute “Lucifer’s Mule,” which grow repetitive. It works best in smaller doses: “Portal” and “Wanderer,” both around five minutes, provide the perfect amount of stoner riffs before breaking into the classic-sounding solos. Coifman’s voice, similarly, is good in doses, but over time his monotonous delivery adds to a feeling of stagnancy. Admittedly, though, when he opens up “Lucifer’s Mule” by singing “Tell me Lucifer” in his best impression of Ozzy, it’s a highlight of the record.

The Unfolding at the End of Light proves a good debut for a band whose members have experience in a mix of genres, from black metal to heavy metal to stoner doom. As innovative as Illwind proves to be in blending several old school genres, they’re not quite so innovative in their base genre of stoner doom. They write and play some good stuff, and with some refined songwriting, they could perfect their blend of genres or even give their stoner riffs a little more pizzazz. In the end, though, I think Illwind achieve success. This is a chill record with some outstanding moments that will have you stop and just say, “Whoa.”

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Personal Records
Website: Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: July 3rd 2026

Sometimes a new band starts up and chooses a godawful name—like Illwind. I’m not just referring to associations with flatulence either—though that certainly doesn’t help. It’s just a difficult name to research, especially for a band with such a small web presence. Google will direct you to the Radiohead song, “Ill Wind,” or a 1960s psychedelic band from Boston called Ill Wind, among other surprisingly numerous use cases for the term “ill wind.” In fact, I began to have some doubts the band was real, but further research shows they do have a label (Personal Records) as well as a list of band members who have a history in Peruvian bands like Arcada, Argul, and Cobra.1 Having established this as a legitimate act with some experienced musicians, the final piece of the puzzle to solve is whether Illwind’s debut album, The Unfolding at the End of Light, is any good.

Illwind is a stoner doom outfit that creatively blends genres in some pretty groovy ways. Epic opener “Crimson Skies” gives you the first hint that things aren’t what they seem on the surface. After the song opens with the slow, plodding pace of funeral doom, vocalist Marcos Coifman’s baritone upends expectations by calling to mind the epic tones of Sorcerer and Visigoth. The funeral doom transforms into classic stoner doom with hints of Black Sabbath before ending on a series of elaborate guitar solos that have the spirit of ’70s rock acts like Lynyrd Skynyrd and the psychedelia of Pink Floyd and Blood Incantation. That The Unfolding at the End of Light ends on a cover by The Stooges, “I Wanna Be Your Dog,” tells us that Illwind doesn’t exactly have modernity in mind, and yet what they have crafted sounds fresh and sometimes exciting.

At heart, this is a work of stoner doom, with a plodding, relaxed pace and enough reverb on the guitar to give off the genre’s usual chill vibes. Illwind aims for exploration, falling securely in the school of Windhand, YOB, and Black Sabbath. They’re in no hurry, but they also don’t hold back the hooks. The guitars from Mauricio Guerrero hit all the right notes, providing distinctive stoner riffs from one song to another. And just when the tracks are about to hit their quota of stoner, he and fellow guitarist Andrés Rhor get creative with solos that transport you to another time and place like Bill and Ted stepping into a magic phone booth. It’s no hallucination if you see their solos come to life—they breathe and grow and take over a tune in a way that can be exhilarating.

How much you enjoy this depends on your level of tolerance of the stoner doom genre itself. Illwind are at their best when they go off the stoner script. The main issue is their stoner stuff can be a bit generic. This is especially true of some of the longer songs, like “God of Sleep” and the thirteen-minute “Lucifer’s Mule,” which grow repetitive. It works best in smaller doses: “Portal” and “Wanderer,” both around five minutes, provide the perfect amount of stoner riffs before breaking into the classic-sounding solos. Coifman’s voice, similarly, is good in doses, but over time his monotonous delivery adds to a feeling of stagnancy. Admittedly, though, when he opens up “Lucifer’s Mule” by singing “Tell me Lucifer” in his best impression of Ozzy, it’s a highlight of the record.

The Unfolding at the End of Light proves a good debut for a band whose members have experience in a mix of genres, from black metal to heavy metal to stoner doom. As innovative as Illwind proves to be in blending several old school genres, they’re not quite so innovative in their base genre of stoner doom. They write and play some good stuff, and with some refined songwriting, they could perfect their blend of genres or even give their stoner riffs a little more pizzazz. In the end, though, I think Illwind achieve success. This is a chill record with some outstanding moments that will have you stop and just say, “Whoa.”

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Personal Records
Website: Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: July 3rd 2026

Meet Zagrea Afxbis.

Six generations ago, a young Tiefling named Urxikas Afxbis was playing dice in a loud bar and caught another player cheating. He called it out. There was a scuffle. The scuffle became a brawl. The brawl became a full-room catastrophe -- everyone involved, furniture flying, chaos wall to wall.

Everyone except the Green Hag sitting alone in the far corner.

Urxikas got thrown across the room and landed near her. Scrambling up, he stepped on her pack. Something inside shattered. She screamed. The whole bar went quiet.

She walked up to him slowly. Got close. And in a voice barely above a whisper, she told him exactly what she thought of him and every red-blooded, tail-dragging devilspawn that would come after him. Then she blew a handful of sand in his eyes and walked out.

That was six Afxbisses ago. The curse has been passed down faithfully through every generation. Uncontrollable magic. Skin that changes color every time a spell fires -- bright green after poison, bright red after fire, eight colors counted so far, possibly more to come. The Afxbis line has learned, generation to generation, how to ride the magic, how to keep it from swallowing them whole. The skin, they never figured out.

Somehow, Zagrea is a happy guy. Charismatic, warm, a little prone to exaggeration when he's telling stories. He finds joy in most things. Most people like him immediately.

But spend enough time with him and you'll see it -- something behind the eyes. Something that doesn't quite rest. He keeps moving because standing still was never really an option. He wasn't welcome most places, growing up. So he kept walking, kept adventuring, and somewhere along the way started looking for something that resembles peace.

He hasn't found it yet. His powers are getting stronger by the day.

---

Zagrea Afxbis is a tall Tiefling Sorcerer with almost no muscle to speak of, wearing colorful striped overalls and a cape long enough to wrap himself in -- both striped vertically in white, red, vermillion, orange, amber, yellow, chartreuse, green, teal, blue, violet, purple, magenta, and black. He attacks from range and relies on his arcane knowledge when his spells don't cooperate. He can will his bare hands to strike like a club, dagger, or handaxe, and can summon a vibrant shield of light from his own arms when pressed. He is a lifelong adventurer, a walking folk legend, and arguably the most colorful person in the room -- sometimes literally.

#iTA #isThisAnything #DnD #TTRPG #Homebrew #CharacterIntro #Sorcerer #Tiefling

Charm is a powerful drug. At the farthest extremes, charm can alter my perception at a fundamental level, warping what might otherwise be boring, unreliable, or even downright problematic things into something worth defending or even loving. But when it comes to music, charm—in measured doses, of course—allows me to fully enjoy the good in something flawed. This is what ultimately drew me to Greek doom startups Distorted Reflection in 2024, and now again in 2026.

2024’s Doom Rules Eternally introduced founding member Kostas Salodmidis’ new project to the world and established Distorted Reflection’s core of doom. Combining Candlemass riffs with Sorcerer drama and a touch of Sorrows Path shred, that core carries over unchanged into Doom Zone. Kostas’ beefy riffs and screaming solos remain as present as ever, and so does his shaky baritone croon. Vangelis gains greater presence with his bass here, which is a welcome improvement over the debut, burbling in lockstep with riffs and offering counterpoint during solo breaks. Filling out the lineup, Thomas Zen pounds the skins with a swinging stomp that suits this doom-laden material like a fitted suit, classy and reigned into the pocket at all times. It might not be the most exciting or unique formula, but it works.

Unfortunately, Doom Zone lacks the one thing that made Doom Rules Eternally worth covering: charm. Doom Zone isn’t completely soulless, but its flaws dominate my experience, leaving very little room for Distorted Reflection’s earnest delivery and competent riffcraft to shine. Evident from the onset of opener “3000 A.D.” and unrelenting throughout the runtime, Kostas’ vocals conspire to distract and detract at almost every opportunity. Unstable vibrato, strained upper range1, abysmal growls and repetitive melodic phrasing make tracks like “My Second Father,” “Gates of Paranoia,” “Tower of Dreams,” and “Morbid Reality” difficult to enjoy. Doom Zone’s songwriting is also noticeably weaker, suffering from a deeply repetitive structure and monotonous pacing that inevitably stalls any momentum individual elements (riffs, solos, choruses) initiate (“Asphyxiation,” “The Final Attempt”). It’s a good thing, then, that Doom Zone is short, clocking in at a responsible 39 minutes. Even so, it drags such that I routinely check my playback to see if I’m close to the end.

This is a shame, because Distorted Reflection are gifted musicians with great potential. Kostas filled Doom Zone with an arsenal of chunky riffs and high-octane solos (“3000 A.D.,” “Certain Death,” “Diminished,” “Morbid Reality”), many of which aptly reference the great works of the doom metal scene, though perhaps a bit too closely. Zen’s drumming is a perfect fit for this sound as well, and Vangelis’ bass noodling is a delight to hear with such clarity. More importantly, everybody understands their role and can play their instruments well enough to attract the spotlight without having to force it away from someone else. The overarching problem ultimately lies in the songwriting. With the exception of a few solid tracks at the album’s midpoint, like “Diminished,” Doom Zone wholly lacks the dynamics, the creativity, and the voice it needs to succeed.

Charm can go a long way to make me like something I would otherwise pass up. Distorted Reflection almost instantaneously lost the charm they once had after my time with Doom Zone. Unmemorable, uninspired, and at times downright irritating, Doom Zone fails to exhibit Distorted Reflection’s strengths in a way that overshadows their flaws. Instead, it accomplished the inverse. Flaws glare, making the process of picking out highlights a grind, and the experience of enjoying the good a chore. I still have hope that they can turn it around with album three, but as it stands, my recommendation is to leave Doom Zone behind while you traverse the doom zone.



Rating: Bad
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Iron Shield Records
Websites: distortedreflectiondoom.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/distortedreflectiondoom
Releases Worldwide: February 27th, 2026

Anchorite – Realm of Ruin Review

By Steel Druhm

2025 has not given me nearly enough epic doom. I need a lot of that stuff to offset my obsession with sub-basement phlegm-death, or my entire equilibrium starts to go pear-shaped and fall off the tracks. Luckily, international collective Anchorite are on the job with their sophomore opus, Realm of Ruin. Using the tried-and-trve sound profile of Candlemass, Solitude Aeturnus, Crypt Sermon, and Sorcerer, all the key landmarks are present, with heavy riffs, powerful vocals, and a sense of melancholy lurking behind the iron fistery. What gives Anchorite a leg up is a sizeable dose of testosterone and machismo in their doom chowder. They borrow from acts like Pale Divine and Argus and aim to kick you in the nether regions even as they harsh your mellow emotionally. Is that the sort of dual-tracked abuse you want from your metal? If so, follow me to the punishment area.

The gates open wide on the opening title track to reveal a powerful, punchy sound with burly riffs pushing the song forward as Leo Stivala (Forsaken, Pagan Altar) delivers manly, rough-hewn bellows and plaintive, somber tones as the moment requires. This is almost like vintage Iced Earth doing epic doom, and honestly, it works pretty damn well. Better still is “The Lighthouse Chronicles,” which takes you on a moody, emotional voyage over 7-plus minutes with hooks deployed expertly along the way to snare your ear. It’s plenty mournful and forlorn, but the epic energy crackles just below the surface and the riffs are meaty and forceful. The chorus is immediately memorable, supported by dour riffing that reeks of Paradise Lost. Add an intriguing midpoint segment that screams introspective Nevermore, and it’s clear Anchorite are onto something. Through it all, Stivala moves adroitly from rougher tones to weepy sadboi wails, convincing at all times. Showing Anchorite’s range, “Devil on the Throne” shifts to muscular, bluesy biker doom like Place of Skulls and Pale Divine. It’s less direct, more classically doomy, and 70s Sabbath jam-intensive. It checks all the boxes, and Stivala once again channels Warrel Dane’s potent spirit to good effect.

If things had slipped a bit on the album’s back half, I’d still be pretty impressed with Realm of Ruin. Instead, you get shellacked by the majesty and might of “The Apostate’s Prayer,” which is half vintage Candlemass, half Sorcerer, and all badass. The guitar work here is stellar, and Stivala ups his game significantly for a vocal tour de force running across misery, grief, and soul-killing inner conflict. His despondent cries of “I have fallen so far” will give you goose bumps and pierce your cold, dead heart. This tune is aces. Closer “Kingdom Undone” is another big moment with a gripping chorus that blends classic metal, doom, and just a hint of power cheese for something extra hooky. It reminds me of the material on Human Fortress’ stellar Defenders of the Crown, but with a melancholic sheen slathered over everything. There are no duds here, and every track brings something interesting to the table, though they don’t all reach the same peaks as the aforementioned highlights. A few tracks suffer from slight bloating around the edges, but at 54 minutes, Realm of Ruin doesn’t feel overlong, nor would I want to see any selections cut.

I’m quite impressed with Leo Stivala’s performance. He mixes forceful Jorn-esque bellows with effectively downcast classic doom singing and switches up his delivery enough to provide surprises and meet the material where it is. He’s got some of the same charm and appeal as Crypt Sermon’s Brooks Wilson, and also reminds one of Robert Lowe (Solitude Aeturnus) at times. Then there are the scattered Warrel Dane bits. Not bad company to find oneself in. Matching Stivala at each step is the guitar work by Martin Andersen. He blends classic heavy metal tropes with all the expected epic doom sounds and brings in touches of power metal to round out the experience. He delivers emotional moments in his solos and harmonies while keeping things heavier than one might expect. Impressive showing in all phases.

Realm of Ruin is one of those albums you enjoy on the first go-through, and with each spin, it reveals more of itself until you’re fully submerged in the band’s craftwork. Anchorite have writing chops, and Realm comes fairly close to reaching the upper levels of doom glory. As it stands, it’s an immersive stroll through the ruins with moments of genuine brilliance and grandeur. I’ll be watching these cats closely because their potential is writ large. A happy surprise and well recommended.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Personal Records
Website: facebook.com/anchoritedoom
Releases Worldwide: August 1st, 2025

#2025 #35 #Anchorite #Argus #Aug25 #Candlemass #CryptSermon #DesolateRealm #DoomMetal #EpicDoomMetal #InternationalMetal #PaleDivine #RealmOfRuin #Review #Reviews #SolitudeAeturnus #Sorcerer

i love pitting classically trained magic users against self-taught magic users in sci-fi/fantasy but it shouldn’t be snobbish disdain for them it should be terror

“WHO TAUGHT YOU LIGHTNING BEFORE BASIC TELEKINESIS. LOSING MY MIND WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU JUST DID IT. WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU CAST WITH YOUR BARE HANDS”

WHAT DO YOU MEAN THAT YOU’VE ‘HACKED’ MANA DRAIN

WHAT DO YOU MEAN ‘DRINK SOME JUICE’

WHAT IS ‘LOW BLOOD SUGAR’

WHY IS THIS WORKING

I HATE YOU SO MUCH

Okay but other direction can ALSO be a lot of fun

“What do you mean I don’t have to burn half my blood to create a fireball?”

“Why can you teleport more than once without vomiting? WTF is ‘quantum displacement awareness’???”

“You know HOW many spells? HOW? ... What do you mean ‘my spell book’?”

“Ooooh, you’re just summoning water portions from the Plane of Water... Lol I thought I HAD to combine hydrogen and oxygen molecules to generate water in small amounts. That’s so much easier then what I was doing!”

dare-to-dm.tumblr.com/post/737…

#HackedMana #mage #sorcerer
#WildMagic #fantasy

#OldEnglish #WordOfTheDay

dreócræft [ ᛞᚱᛖᚩᚳᚱᚫᚠᛏ ]: the magical arts; magic work ; casting magic; spell casting

dreó / drí / drý: A sorcerer, #magus; sorcery

cræft: strength ; power ; skill ; device, especially magical

Pronunciation: https://files-thefolklore-cafe.ams3.digitaloceanspaces.com/attachments/dreocraeft.m4a

This is the act of spell binding / making of powerful magic by a great #sorcerer.

"Simon se drý þurh dreócræft worhte ærene næddran, and ða hie styredan"

Translation: Simon the sorcerer [ #SimonMagus ] made adders [snakes] made of brass and through the use of #magic they moved by themselves

"Hé bysmraþ men mid his dreócræfte"

Translation: He mocked men with his magical skills

#AngloSaxon #Jutish #WyrdWednesday #Folklore #pagan #WitchWednesday #Witchcraft

@histodons
@anglosaxon
@oldenglish
@languagelovers
@folklore
@pagan
@paganplus