#sulphur-aeon — Public Fediverse posts

Ten long years passed since Grond released Worship the Kraken, a fun and meaty slab of Bolt Thrower-meets-Autopsy-meets-Lovecraft madness. With such a protracted lull in recording activity, I was sure there was never going to be another Grond record, but lo and behold, The Temple peeked above the horizon just enough for me to catch it on the approach. I quiver with anticipation to see what cosmic horrors await me there.

Grond is the same stomping monstrosity that left the world all those years ago, muscular and be-tentacled as ever. Their Bolt Thrower riffs and nasty bass tone still take center stage, ensuring that any listener’s face scrunches up in grotesque relief (“Weddigen,” “Submergence”). A Temple of Void-like doom/death shroud adorns The Temple in shadowed moods and ominous atmosphere, creating a vastness of scale and stature Worship the Kraken didn’t have (“U-29,” “Dreadnought”). Much like other modern old-school revival acts like Frozen Soul, simplicity is Grond’s best friend, choosing reliable parts and pieces of the death metal arsenal to ensure maximum impact in their songwriting. Thankfully, Grond’s high-fantasy horror theme, frightful guitar pyrotechnics in solos and flourishes (“Dreadnought”), and beefy production help set The Temple apart from contemporary examples of the style and make for a highly engaging 48 minutes.

At first, though, I wasn’t sure if The Temple justified its ten-year incubation period. It’s their slowest, their longest, and arguably their simplest record in terms of structure. I wondered if this meant it offered less substance or weaker engagement. I was wrong. Without sacrificing heft or extremity, Grond doubled down on accessibility and groove to make The Temple their most easily digestible outing thus far (“Pour le Merite,” “Radiant Fury”), but they made considerable effort using accessibility to their advantage. In place of compositional complexity, odd time signatures, or speed, wild lead guitar exhibitionism, gut-punching bass burbles, and clever drum fills abound. This trade, in turn, makes even the most straightforward cuts exciting and distinctive (“The Temple”). Furthermore, revisits uncover even more nifty details and entertaining embellishments—again sourced primarily from the guitar work—that bring depth and charm to The Temple for which initial impressions don’t account.

The Temple boasts many traits and nuances that not only make it a joy to return to, but also help shrink its inflated runtime, yet some areas could still use a trim. At a bloated six-and-a-half minutes, the title track only barely justifies its length with the strength of its guitar work, but would be stronger still with a full minute or so hacked off the first half for brevity. In fact, most of The Temple’s nine tracks toy with that ambitious six-minute barrier. While a vast majority of them don’t feel nearly that long, they all have at least one small grouping of measures that, if culled, wouldn’t detract from the compositions to which they belong (“Weddigen,” “Dark Solitude of the Sea,” “U-29”). Additionally, instrumental intro “Rotter Himmel” adds very little to the whole except to tumble right into the opener proper. At three minutes, it begs either to be nipped, tucked, and integrated into “Weddigen,” or to be cut altogether.

Aside from a spot of bloat, there’s a lot to enjoy in The Temple. It’s a rare kind of classically informed, doom-tinged, mid-paced death metal that grows with every spin. Grond achieved that grower status with their third LP, and it was worth the ten-year wait. It might not be a groundbreaking album, but competes well in its field and pairs very nicely with other Lovecraft-inspired death metal from the likes of Sulphur Aeon or Corpsessed. So if that’s your bag, Grond’s your monster. Choose your vessel, and enter the gate The Temple!

Rating: Very Good
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: ~260 kbps VBR mp3
Label: XTreem Music
Websites: grond.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/grondrus
Releases Worldwide: April 30th, 2026

This is already the second spin I give this album today. I can highly recommend it!

#nowplaying #SulphurAeon

Tombs – Feral Darkness Review

By Kenstrosity

This is my first time reviewing Brooklyn’s Tombs, but it’s not my first time experiencing them. Each year that a new Tombs drops, I feel the hype machine churning from the community, which I love, disinterring my interest in the sludgy, blackened call Tombs is now known so well for. It’s been five years since the somewhat divisive Under Sullen Skies first graced my ears, and now I take over for Doom_et_Al to serve at the foot of Feral Darkness.

Tombs pushes forward with much of their confident, swaggering style intact. A boisterous mix of Black Royal groove, Oathbreaker vitriol, and a touch of that post-tinged Inter Arma nastiness, Feral Darkness makes a strong case for the style. A burbling, clanging bass tone and stomping drum kit drives this record with greater heft than I experienced on previous installments, evoking a deep-seated, monstrous rage that rattles my bones. Meanwhile, a frightening howl and a chanting croon ensorcells the spirit in much the same way as those who call upon eldritch forces maleficent and omnipotent, Sulphur Aeon. Filling the space between, a crunchy guitar tone lightly dusted with a moldy, post-metal fuzz envelops my senses and draws a sense of warmth into my flesh.

It’s a highly successful sound, one that is sometimes relegated to songwriting that doesn’t take full advantage of its power. Admittedly, Feral Darkness launches in fine form, with three muscular, riff-laden numbers that, while all falling somewhere inside the mid-paced category of speed, nonetheless propel with force. However, somewhere between the final third of the gloom-and-doom “Granite Sky” and the charred and post-y “Last Days,” monotony sets in. A lack of variation in pace wears on the mind, and a dearth of creative songwriting or exciting ideas siphons impact and memorability from the first half. As such, in moments where my time is precious, I struggle to commit to the rest of Feral Darkness’ bloated 50-minute runtime.

With time and some patience, I learned to remind myself that at this exact moment, a minor miracle occurs. “The Wintering” explodes in a burst of violent velocity capable of beheading those weak of upper spine, and Feral Darkness finds firm footing at last. The hits keep coming, too, as evil cuts like “Black Shapes” and the deathly “Wasps” double down on the blackened side of Tombs’ multifaceted personality. Layered tremolos and striking energy form a ashen shell that coats the final third of the record, as if to signify the final evolution of Feral Darkness’ story. Consequently, a new sense of scale builds a formidable presence that makes me forget my earlier quibbles, at least for a moment. Latecomer “Nightland” reprises those issues that plagued the first half, bloating the runtime with seven minutes of uninspired eeriness and a lack of compelling songwriting to go with it.

Tombs unearthed every tool they had in their long-established kit to craft Feral Darkness. I respect that level of versatility, and at the end of the day, the result is enjoyable, albeit a little choppy. Feral Darkness’ best material handily saves the record from falling down the pit of boredom, but it arrives almost too late. If they focused their efforts on their strongest ideas and left fluffy filler like “Nightland,” “Last Days,” or superfluous closing outro “Glaeken” on the cutting room floor, Tombs would’ve had an unstoppable, destructive monster to showcase to the world. As it stands, Feral Darkness will certainly please established fans of the band or the style, but might not convince skeptics or casual passers-by. It’s up to you to decide in which camp you belong.

Rating: Good
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Redefining Darkness
Websites: tombscult.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/TombsBklyn
Releases Worldwide: October 17th, 2025

#2025 #30 #AmericanMetal #BlackMetal #BlackRoyal #FeralDarkness #Hardcore #InterArma #Mastodon #Oathbreaker #Oct25 #PostMetal #RedefiningDarkness #Review #Reviews #Sludge #SludgeMetal #SulphurAeon #Tombs

Nexion – Sundrung Review

By Kenstrosity

I was late to the Nexion train when debut masterpiece Seven Oracles dropped five years ago. Peddling blackened death metal of the Icelandic persuasion, the occult quintet floored me with their writhing, twisted take on the genre, fronted by possibly the best vocalist in black metal right now.1 It’s 2025, and a new Nexionic invocation approaches, looming over this world with a heart full of chaos and a mind consumed in shadow. Is it too much to ask this latest summoning, entitled Sundrung, to match the imposing, irresistible presence of its predecessor?

Likely so, but Sundrung stands tall on its own regardless. In sound, scale, and style, Nexion’s concoction carries over to 2025 unadulterated. Every ingredient that made Seven Oracles the unmistakable omen that it was persists here with equal potency. Pummeling drums propel shimmering black metal riffs and deathly marches, while Nexion’s infernal siren screeches, roars, wails, and rumbles as only the most powerful spirits of unknown realms can. With a stronger emphasis on throat singing, baritone chanting, and ascendant melodies than before, Nexion doubles down on their occult theme and aesthetic while also recalling Sulphur Aeon‘s eldritch touch (“Visions of the Seventh Fire”). Sundrung also retains the gnarled, deceptively hooky metamorphoses that characterized Nexion’s previous work. However, a greater reliance on repetition and more linear structures drives deeper those key phrases and memorable moments that form the backbone of Sundrung’s 8 realms.

Sundrung may be more straightforward than Seven Oracles in most respects, but it requires quality time to bloom. At first, I was concerned that the repetitive nature of “Gandr” sacrificed too much focus from the whole, and created a lull in momentum. However, in remarkably short order I found myself hypnotized by its compelling chorus chants and oscillating riffs. A surprise to be sure, but it’s not the only one. “When Raven Steals the Sun” and “Rending the Black Earth” at first left me wanting for more creativity, something that elevated these pieces beyond that of what I already expect from Icelandic black metal. Once again, repeat spins revealed subtleties. In “When Raven Steals the Sun,” for example, intricately detailed and intentionally placed background melodies—often burgeoning through the fiery tremolos, bending riffs, and charred rasps—simultaneously fortify connections and ease transitions between distinct passages. Meanwhile, “Rending the Black Earth” intensified the more often I returned, blazing with an unearthly vitality and an unhinged spirit that invigorates its epic trem-picked refrains and double-bass pummels. Consequently, these numbers slowly became some of my favorites over time.

On the other side of the same coin, those cuts that attack with immediacy and power always ensure memorability, but compromise a small measure of depth and nuance in exchange. Opener “Uflarpaspa” and album highlight “Hymn of the Valkyrjur” are the most successful in navigating this tricky balance. The former makes a magnificent opener, showcasing everything that Nexion does well, with a little extra aggression to keep things interesting. The latter, a momentous march with a face-twisting riffset built for the stage, “Hymn of the Valkyrjur” offers instant hooks without disposing those unfolding deviations from repetition that set Nexion’s material apart from the pool. However, they still lack the same surprising level of detail that makes “When Raven Steals the Sun,” “Gandr,” and even epic closer “Visions of the Seventh Fire” such a joy to spend extra time with.

In sum, Sundrung has the potential to challenge listeners as often as it will delight them. Certainly one of the more interesting records to come from the Icelandic scene, it offers a varied combination of immediacy and nuance. But it takes patience and focus to perceive those attributes. Some listeners—especially those who are not duty bound to spin records a dozen times before settling on a score—might not want to put that effort in. I argue that you ought to anyway. It may not be flawless, nor is it quite as universally successful as Seven Oracles, but Sundrung is nonetheless worthy of enthusiastic recommendation.

Rating: Very Good!
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: V0 mp3
Label: Avantgarde Music
Websites: nexion.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/Nexionband
Releases Worldwide: September 19th, 2025

#2025 #35 #AvantgardeMusic #BlackMetal #BlackenedDeathMetal #DeathMetal #IcelandicMetal #Nexion #Review #Reviews #Sep25 #SulphurAeon #Sundrung

AMG’s Unsigned Band Rodeö: Kalaveraztekah – Nikan Axkan

By Dolphin Whisperer

“AMG’s Unsigned Band Rodeö” is a time-honored tradition to showcase the most underground of the underground—the unsigned and unpromoted. This collective review treatment continues to exist to unite our writers in boot or bolster of the bands who remind us that, for better or worse, the metal underground exists as an important part of the global metal scene. The Rodeö rides on.”

The Rodeö is full of surprises. Today’s potential riff trap hails from the arid lands of Aguascalientes, Mexico, known most famously for its array of hot springs and National Museum of Death. Yes, in death Kalaveraztekah revels, and not just in a death metal groove indebted to the jagged scrawl of Morbid Angel or the destructive howl of early Behemoth. With a healthy inclusion of pre-Hispanic, indigenous instrumentation alongside their chunky and pinch-addled drive, Nikan Axkan churns and tumbles through chants and thunderous drum roll to shine a light on the Mexica culture and history of sacrifice and spirit world. To excavate the wonders that the adventurous Kalaveraztekah holds hidden in the underground, we’ve assembled a crack Rodeö crew, including an appearance from The Man, The Myth, The AMG Himself. Surely that means that everyone followed the word count, right? – Dolphin Whisperer

Kalaveraztekah // Nikan Axkan [May 2nd, 2025]

AMG Himself: Kalaveraztekah’s Nikan Axkan represents hopes and dreams that I have harbored for years. When will we finally get the seminal piece of Aztec-influenced extreme metal that will whet my appetite for both death metal and Mesoamerican history?1 With aplomb, these astonishingly unsigned Aguascalientes-ites2 do the fine job of balancing two equally vital parts of a single sound. Kalaveraztekah hits like a ton of bricks, dealing in death metal that’s neither old nor school, it’s just brutal and grindy, tempered only by peyote-fueled excursions into the netherworld. The core of their sound is brutal Mexican death metal replete with blasts and machine gun kicks, neck-damaging riffing, pig-squealing guitars, brutal growls (and occasionally less-brutal screamies) synced with the snare, and an intensity that I associate with writing reviews of bands like Vomitory or Crypta. It’s got the riffs and intensity with just a touch of melody, and I bask in its brutality and shreddy, squealy solos. Kalaveraztekah’s particular innovation in this sphere is the successful inclusion of traditional folk elements from the indigenous people located throughout Mexico, but which is today used almost exclusively for the Mexica people of Tenochtitlan (which is modern-day Mexico City).3 Kalaveraztekah’s focus on “Aztec Cosmogony” lends itself perfectly to the second part of their unique sound: dreamy folk soundscapes that they adapt seamlessly—and convincingly—when they shift gear. Driven by reverb-soaked soundscapes, Spanish guitars,4 and what I assume is a tlapitzalli (flute), the band lends atmosphere and dynamics that are necessary to offset a style of death metal that at times can risk monotony. And when they meet, these two sounds crash into each other like storm fronts, creating something beautiful and terrible to behold, simultaneously brutal and thoughtful, grindy and melodic, atmospheric and immediate. I fuckin’ love this shit.

Next up on my befolkened death metal bucketlist: the Olmecs! 4.0/5.0

Dear Hollow: What’s great about Kalaveraztekah is their ability to channel their heritage into an homage to the Mexica that sounds ancient, cosmic, and brutal. Featuring a blend not unlike the formidable shaman-themed Hell:on, the lethal fusion of cutthroat death metal and folk instruments offers balance: wild guitar solos, haunting flutes, terrifying death whistles, and ritualistic drums shine amid the no-frills Sulphur Aeon-esque riffs. While similarities to other Mexico-based Aztec- or Mayan-themed groups are unavoidable, Pre-Hispanic folk instrumentation is not mere novelty like it is for Ocelotl or Eunoë, nor is it an atmospheric saturation of bloody sacrifice in the manner of Aztlan or Cemican – rather, Kalaveraztekah uses ritualistic and ceremonial elements to amplify the cyclical cosmic grandiosity of the Five Suns in an album of both creation and devastation. Nikan Axkan offers riffs galore (“Tlazolteotl,” “Xiuhtekuhtli Weweteotl”), haunting overtures with spoken word that recall sacrificial ecstasy and the vast rotting realms of the gods (“Yowaltecuhtli,” “Illwikatl Meztli”), and just enough techy flavors of soaring intensity and dissonant menace to warrant diversity and complexity (“Xolotl Axolotl,” “Xiuhmolpili”). While the album is a tad overlong at nearly fifty minutes, Kalaveraztekah’s approach straddles the line between violently visceral and gloriously colossal – truly “el amanecer del nuevo sol” indeed. 4.0/5.0

Iceberg: I love it when an album requires me to do some research to unwrap its mysteries. Before I came across Nikan Axlan I had precious little knowledge of Aztec mythology. But now, thanks to Aguascalientes natives Kalaveraztekah, I can confidently tell my Xolotls from my Axolotls. Kalaveraztekah’s sonic template skews more groove than death metal, but the inclusion of a host of traditional instruments keeps the music refreshing and thoroughly unnerving. The tribal drums and wind instruments maintain a constant otherworldly atmosphere, and the extraneous vocal additions are excellent (the frantic spoken word of “Yowaltekuhtli” and the Wilhelm screams of “Xolotl Axolotl”). Kalaveraztekah aren’t content to sit in any one corner with their instruments either. The trebly blues tone of “Yowaltekuhtli” feels ripped from a Los Lonely Boys album, and the sweeping neoclassical riff that forms the backbone of “Xiuhmolpilli” screams symphodeath BOMBAST.5 The biggest drawback for me here is that in leaning so far into the groove metal style, the BPM goes stale in its mid-paced swagger. Given everything else that Kalaveraztekah unleashes on Nikan Axkan, I’m left wondering what this band would sound like if they really stepped on the gas and hit that NOS button (although the opening riff of “Wewekyotl” gets pretty damn close). That quibble aside, Nikan Axkan is a compelling and replayable record, and a great trip into the dark, bizarre world of Aztec mythology. I highly recommend this album for those looking for some tasty groove metal with a bit of strange on the side. 3.5/5.0

Alekhines Gun: Move over Tzompantli, there’s a new band in town. Channeling the instrumental flourishes of Nechochwen filtered through something adjacent to The Zenith Passage in production,6 Kalaveraztekah have presented a slab of agave scented folky melodic death so meticulously constructed and well produced that I’m actually stunned it’s an independent release. From the triumphant flourishes dotting the leads in “Yowaltekuhtli” to the thunderous tribal percussion-laced breakdowns in “Xiuhtekuhtli Weweteotl”, Nikan Axkan never wants for a variety of gripping moments. A sense of propulsion flows through the album, rendering the occasional interludes atmospheric rather than momentum-killing. Songs like “Xolotl Axolotl” feature heaps of skronk and tawngy tech only to instantly be offset by indigenous instruments and melodic atmospherics in equal measure. True, each individual track feels a bit long in the tooth and seem as though they could benefit from some editing, and I wish the bottom end didn’t sound so artificial. Nevertheless, every time I found myself thinking such thoughts I was suddenly blown away by some excellent new riff or lovely melody from wood instruments or percussion, slotting neatly into the album’s reasonable runtime. Nikan Axhan is an album with a remarkably matured and well-executed vision, and has been a gripping, engaging listen with each spin. Support this album. 3.5/5.0

Thyme: Most bands continually seek ways to bring originality into their work. For Aguascalientes, Mexico, five-piece death metal outfit Kalaveraztekah, that originality comes in the form of heaving helpings of Mesoamerican folk instrumentation, expertly woven into the deathly fabric of their sophomore album Nikan Azkan. Right off the bat, I felt transported to the middle of a Mexican rainforest as tribal drums and folkish guitar lines cede their delicate grip to Behemoth-like death riffs and a hellish vocal attack that rivals Nergal’s (“Nikan Axkan (El Aquí y El Ahora)”). When Nikan Azkan isn’t channeling Demigod levels of viciousness, its hybrid form of folk death conjures Roots-era Sepultura with sludgily dirty riffs, primitive death chants, and a plethora of indigenous instruments ranging from ocarinas to Aztec death whistles (“Xiuhtekuhtli Weweteotl (El Fuego Ancestral),” “Wewekoyotl (El Coyote Viejo)”). Kalaveraztekah brings loads of atmosphere to Nikan Axkan, especially on “Yowaltekuhtli (Un Sueño En La Oscuridad),” with its haunting instrumentation—the guitar work is top notch here—and the desperate, breathless pleas of the narrator conjuring tons of dramatic tension. On repeated spins, the magic within Nikan Axkan continues to unravel. While the meshing of Kalaveraztekah‘s death metal—standard as it may be—with its folk-forward instrumentation tends to blur tracks together, enjoyment didn’t dissipate the more I listened. Fans of what Tzompantli are doing would be hard-pressed to miss this, and I suggest they don’t. 3.0/5.0

Show 6 footnotes

1. Tzompantli doesn’t count ’cause they’re from California and they’re only “good.” ↩
2. I believe we call them Aguascalentenses. – Dolph ↩
3. Interesting to note that the band is from Aguascalientes, because the region was, in fact, the home of the Chichimeca groups, which, according to my deep research (yup, doin’ my own research just like RFK Jr. told me to!) became a kind of archetype of “noble savages” for both the Spaniards and the Mexica (Aztecs) in the 1500s. Rather than being a single group with a shared language, the Chichimeca groups were spread throughout central Mexico, and following the discovery of silver, they were war-crimed into a decades-long conflict and eventual decline, and by the beginning of the 1600s, they “disappeared as distinguishable cultural entities” (Schmal, 2019). Seven tribes would be the basis of a mighty seven-album conceptual cycle, my dudes. I’m just sayin’. ↩
4. Is that ironic? ↩
5. It really makes you wonder how far is heaven. – Dolph ↩
6. Surely, scooped tone production existed before The Zenith Passage. – Dolph ↩

#AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo #AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo2025 #Aztec #Behemoth #Crypta #DeathMetal #FolkMetal #GrooveMetal #HellOn #IndependentRelease #Kalaveraztekah #LosLonelyBoys #May25 #MexicanMetal #MorbidAngel #Nechochwen #NikanAxkan #ProgressiveDeathMetal #Review #Reviews #SelfRelease #Sepultura #SulphurAeon #Tzompantli #Vomitory

For #WaterMusic in #TuneTuesday by @Kitty:

#SulphurAeon: Swallowed by the Ocean's Tide

https://song.link/i/1573215244

Sulphur Aeon - Sinister Sea Sabbath

https://sulphuraeon-vanrecords.bandcamp.com/track/sinister-sea-sabbath

Issu de l’album The Scythe of Cosmic Chaos, sorti en 2018.

#SulphurAeon #TheScytheOfCosmicChaos
#DeathMetal #Death #Metal (#Lovecraft)

#PouëtRadio #AznörthMusique

Update:

6. #TheGreatOldOnes - Tekeli-li
7. #Almyrkvi - Umbra
8. #SacrificiumCarmen - Hermetica
9. #CosmicChurch - Ylistys
10. #SulphurAeon - The Scythe of Cosmic Chaos

Stumbled across this gem a couple of days ago https://sulphuraeon-vanrecords.bandcamp.com/album/the-scythe-of-cosmic-chaos

#sulphuraeon is #deathmetal from #germany with #lovecraft cosmic horror as their main lyrical theme, which is perfectly captured in the music itself.