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Aucausal Intrusion – Vomit Meditations Review

In an act of unconscious serendipity, shortly before beginning this review, I re-read Jean-Paul Sartre’s Nausea. The seren…
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https://www.europesays.com/uk/1187169/ Aucausal Intrusion – Vomit Meditations Review #2026 #35 #AcausalIntrusion #AdNauseum #AmericanMetal #BlackMetal #CosmicPutrefaction #DeathMetal #DissonantDeathMetal #Entertainment #ExperimentalDeathMetal #I #music #Portal #Review #Reviews #Sep26 #TechnicalDeathMetal #UK #UnitedKingdom #VoidhangerRecords #VomitMeditations

In an act of unconscious serendipity, shortly before beginning this review, I re-read Jean-Paul Sartre’s Nausea. The serendipity is not in the proximity between Nausea and Vomit—though that’s also interesting—but in a particular manner of revelation. There’s a part in the book where our protagonist, suddenly seized by a violent attack of his titular malaise, rushes near-blindly through the streets, and his thoughts become fragmented into repetitive near-word-association as he begins to confront the horror of things existing.1 The lyrics of Acausal Intrusion’s fourth album, Vomit Meditations, are disjointed and uncanny in precisely this sense; reading them instantly linked these two works in my mind. The music itself is no less viscerally chaotic and confrontational, as the duo step into what’s possibly the heaviest and strangest iteration of their already intense and avant-garde sound so far—one which pairs perfectly with a life-altering existential crisis.

Vomit Meditations lives up to its moniker as it sees Acausal Intrusion’s signature hyper-dissonance and unsettling contemplativeness contorted into a bizarre series of violent spewings, punctuated by uneasy moments of reflective resonance, even beauty, to which Panpsychism’s doomier shades are confined, channeled through the acoustic and ambient. The free-jazz influence is stark, and not only in the prominence of piano in the album’s stiller passages (“Vomit Meditation,” “Psychic Abolishment”). Twisted guitar lines—more Cosmic Putrefaction or Ad Nauseum than Gorguts—writhe up and down and in and out of focus above the churning miasma of impossible tempos and abyssal belches—unheard this side of Portal—their seeming stochasticism belied as they coalesce into a shape more than their sum. Spasmodic scales and sudden lead switches from which one reflexively recoils start to make sense, and the real melodicisms that arise over the runtime grow more apparent. Recurring seizures of percussion grow hypnotic as the curve of their circularity becomes clear (“Convex Hidden Echoes”), and a ringing mass of wails and riffs rises until the overlapping tones produce the illusion of symphonics (“Psychic Abolishment”). The barrier to entry remains high, but the rewards are significant.

It’s in this paradox of chaotic reasoning where Vomit Meditations develops its vice grip. With alluring psychedelic rock (“Vomit Meditation”) it beckons its subject in, and with a chilling nocturne it leads them to the final, most awful revelation of all (“Psychic Abolishment”). With barely a beat between the unironic beauty and the hellish cacophony, the latter in particular gains near-transcendence. Although the album is marked by repeated 180-degree turns in rhythm (most aggressive on “Usurping Vaporous Primal Vibrations” and “Convex Hidden Echoes”), it has an unexplainable almost groove, which actually becomes explicit at times (“Vital Transformation”), and the endless about-turns and restless rolling and crashing morph into a hideously compelling dance (“Vomit Meditation,” “Requiem Murmur”). Once again, I struggle to believe drummer and vocalist Cave Ritual’s humanity, hearing such things. Although guitars jump in and out of focus (“Usurping…,” “Psychic Abolishment”) with riffs mostly possessing a stabbing, dragging, flailing discordance as though Nythroth’s fingers were strangling the very instrument used to produce them, their purpose never fails to manifest in the organic yet unpredictable shapes they create (“Convex…,” “Requiem Murmur”). Plus, there’s a lot more melody infused into the music than an uncritical ear would like to acknowledge (“Vomit Meditation,” “Vital Transformation”).

Vomit Meditations also largely improves on areas where previous records fell short. It flows with remarkable ease considering its freeform style and considerable 50-minute runtime and grows more compelling as it progresses. The second half’s superiority is arguably down to paying off what is better than the first in pacing, intrigue, and memorability, though arguably this is dependent on the first half having set up the themes it pays off. The production, continuing to be rich and dynamic for death metal but with the vocals and drums relatively forward, works better than it has previously. I’d recommend listening on a pair of good headphones that will enable you to catch the myriad horrors occurring within the soundscape. Nonetheless, the mix, as well as the relentless complexity and improvisational feel, will persist in alienating many listeners. Though Acausal Intrusion distinguish themselves from the ultra-extreme-for-extremity’s sake crowd by demonstrating that they can turn apparent randomness into a form of reason, they could perhaps tone it down just a tad.

Vomit Meditations is Acausal Intrusion’s best album. Some will interpret this as damning with faint praise an album in a discography otherwise too ugly and over the top to be good. I mean it quite differently. Vomit Meditations is violently, masochistically enjoyable and multifaceted and arresting, and it gets better on each spin. It requires a certain receptiveness—what experimental extreme metal doesn’t—and Acausal Intrusion will maintain a modest following, but its mania feels so deliciously meaningful I don’t even want to try escaping it.

Rating: Very Good2
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: I, Voidhanger Records
Website: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: September 4th, 2026

Though Gorod began as a more conventional technical death metal outfit, progressive songwriting seeps deeper into their bones with each release. The 2010 additions of vocalist Julien Deyres and Nicolas Alberny augured this shift, as 2011’s Transcendence EP and 2012’s A Perfect Absolution encouraged unconventional song structures to complement the band’s knife-edged precision. In this way, I consider Gorod to be the stylistic antithesis of Archspire within technical death metal. Rather than going bigger and faster like the speed-freak Canucks, Gorod takes a more measured approach that, while brisk and exciting, tempers their dispatches with nuance and poise. Both bands succeed down their chosen paths, and the exercise of comparison isn’t about pitting them against one another as much as demonstrating the differences in how the genre can diverge. Given Gorod’s penchant for intricately crafted drama, can eighth album, The Ember Gone, rekindle their elegant allure?

Pivoting from Gorod’s recent theses of celestial bodies and the mythologies they inspire,1 The Ember Gone finds the French quintet examining more recent and pressing matters surrounding man’s role in ecological disasters. This theme carries an especially stark timeliness given the wildfires that broke out in southern France after the band began promoting The Ember Gone. Despite the change in prevailing inspiration, though, Gorod’s musical approach remains intact. Flurries of snaking riffs and clever bass countermelodies propel the album forward, this time adopting slinky grooves (“Regret,” “Ignite”) and reverb-saturated textures (“Forgiveness”) in addition to their expected acrobatics (“Remains”). Rest assured Gorod still reminds of Psycroptic, Augury, and Obscura, although this time around subdued undercurrents lighten The Ember Gone’s grandeur in favor of more intimate compositions.

On the surface, The Ember Gone doesn’t stray too far from the music of Æthra or The Orb. Guitar duo Mathieu Pascal and Nicolas Alberny unleash sidewinding flutters of perpetual riffs (“Signs,” “Remains”), occasionally relinquishing the fretboard gymnastics to build momentum with staccato chord bursts (“Devise”) or to instill emotion via delicate sustains (“Forgiveness,” “Ember”). Benoit Claus also commands attention with a sprightly bass performance, rarely content to play under what Pascal and Alberny construct. Instead, he pursues sinuous grooves that embolden Gorod’s stringed attack (“Devise,” “Ignite”). Deyres delivers an effective performance as well, especially on “Forgiveness” and “Regret,” as he unfurls stirring cleans that accompany his abrasive growls. Drummer Karol Diers likewise submits a solid outing, although he often falls into the background compared to his immediate and off-kilter patterns that made all-out brawlers “The Sentry,” “We Are the Sun Gods,” and “Breeding Silence” so explosive on prior albums.

Given how the same essential building blocks undergird Gorod’s recent releases, something feels like it’s missing from The Ember Gone. Æthra and The Orb dedicated runtimes to exploring various themes related to the moon and sun, and the music felt appropriately epic. With The Ember Gone’s thematic lens zooming in on humanity’s environmental negligence, the music too often dwells in melancholic lament. In fairness, this is an appropriate reaction, yet I yearn for some biblically righteous indignation that fans Ember’s flames into a raging inferno. Regardless, the music is unerringly gorgeous and feels richer than the DR 6 suggests, and every instrument sounds sinewy and potent while Deyres’s mix of clean and harsh vox cuts through. I’m also shocked at the number of plays I’ve accumulated over just a few days, and while part of that was born from necessity, I find myself drawn back to Gorod again and again.

Although The Ember Gone doesn’t reach the same heights as their other recent output, Gorod nonetheless delivers an invigorating dose of proggy tech death that should satisfy fans. In turns introspective and ferocious, The Ember Gone smolders with an understated confidence that stokes my appreciation higher with each listen. Evaluating it has presented an agonized challenge, as Gorod resolutely exemplifies what I love about both progressive and technical metal, yet I can’t escape the feeling that too much of The Ember Gone’s urgency is siphoned by restraint. Still, this review required a quick turnaround and even the little time I’ve spent with Gorod’s latest proves it’s a potent grower. Perhaps by the end of the year I’ll realize that The Ember Gone’s eminence was just a very slow burn.

Rating: Very Good!!
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Base Productions
Websites: Official | Facebook | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: August 28th, 2026

Tasmania—outside of their famous adorable screaming murder marsupials, I know basically nothing about the island. Recently, though, Tasmania’s The Absolution Sequence seized and held my attention with everything surrounding their debut record, Dread Cycle.1 Sublime cover art by Tasmanian artist Shaun Hyatt. Technical death metal that, according to promo, “balances high-velocity musical prowess with a deeply immersive, atmospheric undertone.” But what’s this? Three guitarists? Two drummers?!2 Is there any hope of hearing a bass guitar on this thing? How big is Dread Cycle really, and are The Absolution Sequence bad enough dudes to hold it all down? I had to know.

To address The Absolution Sequence’s qualifying trait as a tech-death band, I’ll start by stating that Dread Cycle is quite the technical feat. TAS’ three-pronged guitar attack of Stephen Cusato and Steven Mason on rhythm and Luke Tucker on lead deliver all the pressure-cooked heck you’d expect of the sub-genre, spinning busy, knotted riffs that strike and pop at odd times and angles. Hear the gnarly riffage on “This Sordid Miasma” and “Promethean Pilferage” and just soak it in. Rhythmically, drummers Nick Machin and Luke Sanderson deliver mechanically precise blasts and occasional Meshuggah kick-jank (“Ghost Mantra”) while—yes—Alastair Boon’s bass features prominently in arpeggiated leads [“Despotic Ruin (Diet of Worms)”] and popping and plucking beneath the riffs (“Diary of the Emaciated”). These dudes have chops for days, but somehow Dread Cycle is surprisingly reserved. Don’t expect Archspire-scaled showy excess with The Absolution Sequence, as Dread Cycle is the kind of layered technical showcase that’s more than happy to sneak up on you at times.

What sticks out foremost about Dread Cycle is how atmospheric and big it sounds. The Absolution Sequence regularly build these tidal waves of dissonant, discordant chords that make for eerie, cataclysmic atmospheres. Tracks like “The Nightlight Sigil” and “A Mire Caked Nativity,” even amidst it’s deeply frenetic playing, absolutely ooze dense, dreary mood. These movements of cavernous density stand in nice contrast to the typical tech-death chops heard elsewhere, offering cuts like “Despotic Ruin (Diet of Worms)” greater dynamism and balancing out “Idols of Confraternity”‘s wicked fast runs and bludgeoning chugs with simpler, harmonically rich parts. It keeps the audience from growing desensitized to the chaos, as is oft to happen in tech-death. The Absolution Sequence simply sound more focused than a lot of their peers, and with that focus comes weight. Dread Cycle doesn’t blow your mind through exceptional virtuosity but clobbers you with the enormity of its compositions.

But never does The Absolution Sequence’s technical ambitions or atmospheric inclinations ever detract from Dread Cycle’s serious bite. Delivering a varied and hostile vox attack, lead vocalist Shawn Wells drives TAS onto a warpath. Through confrontational and nasty growls on “Grinding the Sphere,” pissed-off Archspire speed spitting on “Diary of the Emaciated,” and downright (Tasmanian) devilish rasps on “Idols of Confraternity,” Wells spells out Dread Cycle’s ill-will in explicit terms. The rest of TAS match that vitriol. Their three guitarists are a restless unit, constantly finding new ways to layer airy leads over feverish riff-craft while the drumming on Dread Cycle never sacrifices punch for flair. This is tech-death of a distinctly modern bent, for sure, but there’s a timeless, plain deathly meanness to Dread Cycle that makes it cathartically heavy as well as dazzingly impressive to behold.

Dread Cycle is a true cyclone of aggression, but far more cogent and less slobbery than the one Tasmania is better known for. The Absolution Sequence found a distinct and deeply enjoyable brand of tech-death that stands out even in a crowded year for the sub-genre. It’s the kind of record that’s just hard to find negative things to say about, and one that has steadily grown on me over the time I’ve spent with it. Check out Dread Cycle if you like your shadowed treks through miasmatic realms of death thoroughly buckwild as well. You know I do.

Rating: Great
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps MP3
Labels: Bleeding Art Collective and Blood Blast Distribution
Websites: theabsolutionsequence.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/theabsolutionsequence
Releases Worldwide: August 18th, 2026

In his review of Eaten by Sharks’s debut, Eradication, Carcharodon mollified readers about the dangers of sharks by citing statistics. However, statistics don’t erase the fact that sharks look like the stuff of nightmares—and they do sometimes eat people. Most of us prefer to experience this vicariously through film, where we learn sharks are quite versatile killers. They might surprise you while you’re skinny dipping and thrash you around a bit before dragging you underwater. Or one might burst through the floor of an underwater research facility and chomp you in half. There are also more subtle methods of death, like finding yourself stranded in the middle of the ocean when a shark bites your leg and then swims off, leaving you to slowly bleed to death. Canada’s Eaten by Sharks throw their own narrative hat in the ring on their second album, The Undertow of Hate, a dark and brutal vision of violence in the deep seas.

The songs on The Undertow of Hate behave just like killer sharks—they’re brutal, shifty, violent, and efficient. Eaten by Sharks achieve this through a deathcore-adjacent style of death metal that straddles the line between Fit for an Autopsy and Cattle Decapitation. Down-tuned, chugging guitars and pummeling blast beats provide an atmosphere of dark violence, and the high-energy music feels like a rallying cry for sharks in a feeding frenzy. Eaten by Sharks also dip into The Black Dahlia Murder-style melodeath on the likes of the speedy and entertaining “Bodies Overboard” and “Crimson Tide.” The Undertow of Hate isn’t all pedal to the metal, though. It often pauses for slower moments, surveying the outcome of the violence with pithy observations like “Look at all the bodies” (“Bodies Overboard”). The progressive nature of the music ensures a narrative flow rather than a mere repetition of ideas.

Eaten by Sharks have produced a masterwork of horror in terms of atmosphere and storytelling. Borrowing from horror stalwarts Fulci, they integrate atmospheric soundbites into the opening of each song. Far from being annoying or gimmicky, these touches meld naturally into the music. Opener “Vessels Torn” combines gentle guitar riffs, crying seagulls, and the straining of a ship against the waves before plunging into the violence of guitars and growls. Other tracks open with people screaming in terror, splashes of water, underwater bubbles, and even a soundbite from the original Jaws. These touches help immerse the listener in the grisly setting and add a layer of depth to the pummeling music. It all culminates in a brilliant outro, “Surfaced Remains,” which uses surprisingly lovely arpeggios and some audio tricks to give the sense of bodies rising to the surface, making for a poignant, if nihilistic, conclusion to the record.

The musicians overcome a pretty bad mixing job to put together an album that sounds much better than it should. I think it helps that Eaten by Sharks doesn’t overwhelm with a busy mix—they take a rather simple, though effective, approach to the music. The drums from Justin Whitehead may be a touch too loud, but he lays the framework for violence with some powerful blast beats, while taking things down a notch as the narrative requires. The dual guitar work from Chris Chaperon and Dan Oko helps instill a sense of the unfolding chaos through the use of dissonant, off-kilter riffs. Yet they also incorporate some impressive shredding, technical wizardry, and memorable melodic touches, which help allay the oft-used repetitive chugging. Matt Sherriff puts together an impressively schizophrenic performance behind the mic. His convincing swap between deep throaty growls and rasping snarls gives the impression of a second vocalist. On the terrific “Treading Water,” he demonstrates a melodic storytelling capacity that’s just a blast to listen to.

The attention to detail throughout The Undertow to Hate shows that these guys had a ton of fun with the concept. I do wish Eaten by Sharks had provided a lyrics sheet because Sherriff delivers a number of gems. When he rasps “there’s fucking bodies in the water” on “Crimson Tide,” it’s a chilling, almost gleeful, reminder of the destruction wrought. Touches like these help cover up some other flaws, especially the rather simplistic and sometimes headache-inducing loud chugging guitar/drum/growl combo. Nonetheless, this will end up as one of the year’s most memorable listening experiences. If you love brutal death metal featuring effective storytelling and plenty of wiolence, then you need to go out and get Eaten by Sharks.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 4 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: CDN Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: July 17th, 2026

In his review of Eaten by Sharks’s debut, Eradication, Carcharodon mollified readers about the dangers of sharks by citing statistics. However, statistics don’t erase the fact that sharks look like the stuff of nightmares—and they do sometimes eat people. Most of us prefer to experience this vicariously through film, where we learn sharks are quite versatile killers. They might surprise you while you’re skinny dipping and thrash you around a bit before dragging you underwater. Or one might burst through the floor of an underwater research facility and chomp you in half. There are also more subtle methods of death, like finding yourself stranded in the middle of the ocean when a shark bites your leg and then swims off, leaving you to slowly bleed to death. Canada’s Eaten by Sharks throw their own narrative hat in the ring on their second album, The Undertow of Hate, a dark and brutal vision of violence in the deep seas.

The songs on The Undertow of Hate behave just like killer sharks—they’re brutal, shifty, violent, and efficient. Eaten by Sharks achieve this through a deathcore-adjacent style of death metal that straddles the line between Fit for an Autopsy and Cattle Decapitation. Down-tuned, chugging guitars and pummeling blast beats provide an atmosphere of dark violence, and the high-energy music feels like a rallying cry for sharks in a feeding frenzy. Eaten by Sharks also dip into The Black Dahlia Murder-style melodeath on the likes of the speedy and entertaining “Bodies Overboard” and “Crimson Tide.” The Undertow of Hate isn’t all pedal to the metal, though. It often pauses for slower moments, surveying the outcome of the violence with pithy observations like “Look at all the bodies” (“Bodies Overboard”). The progressive nature of the music ensures a narrative flow rather than a mere repetition of ideas.

Eaten by Sharks have produced a masterwork of horror in terms of atmosphere and storytelling. Borrowing from horror stalwarts Fulci, they integrate atmospheric soundbites into the opening of each song. Far from being annoying or gimmicky, these touches meld naturally into the music. Opener “Vessels Torn” combines gentle guitar riffs, crying seagulls, and the straining of a ship against the waves before plunging into the violence of guitars and growls. Other tracks open with people screaming in terror, splashes of water, underwater bubbles, and even a soundbite from the original Jaws. These touches help immerse the listener in the grisly setting and add a layer of depth to the pummeling music. It all culminates in a brilliant outro, “Surfaced Remains,” which uses surprisingly lovely arpeggios and some audio tricks to give the sense of bodies rising to the surface, making for a poignant, if nihilistic, conclusion to the record.

The musicians overcome a pretty bad mixing job to put together an album that sounds much better than it should. I think it helps that Eaten by Sharks doesn’t overwhelm with a busy mix—they take a rather simple, though effective, approach to the music. The drums from Justin Whitehead may be a touch too loud, but he lays the framework for violence with some powerful blast beats, while taking things down a notch as the narrative requires. The dual guitar work from Chris Chaperon and Dan Oko helps instill a sense of the unfolding chaos through the use of dissonant, off-kilter riffs. Yet they also incorporate some impressive shredding, technical wizardry, and memorable melodic touches, which help allay the oft-used repetitive chugging. Matt Sherriff puts together an impressively schizophrenic performance behind the mic. His convincing swap between deep throaty growls and rasping snarls gives the impression of a second vocalist. On the terrific “Treading Water,” he demonstrates a melodic storytelling capacity that’s just a blast to listen to.

The attention to detail throughout The Undertow to Hate shows that these guys had a ton of fun with the concept. I do wish Eaten by Sharks had provided a lyrics sheet because Sherriff delivers a number of gems. When he rasps “there’s fucking bodies in the water” on “Crimson Tide,” it’s a chilling, almost gleeful, reminder of the destruction wrought. Touches like these help cover up some other flaws, especially the rather simplistic and sometimes headache-inducing loud chugging guitar/drum/growl combo. Nonetheless, this will end up as one of the year’s most memorable listening experiences. If you love brutal death metal featuring effective storytelling and plenty of wiolence, then you need to go out and get Eaten by Sharks.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 4 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: CDN Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: July 17th, 2026

In his review of Eaten by Sharks’s debut, Eradication, Carcharodon mollified readers about the dangers of sharks by citing statistics. However, statistics don’t erase the fact that sharks look like the stuff of nightmares—and they do sometimes eat people. Most of us prefer to experience this vicariously through film, where we learn sharks are quite versatile killers. They might surprise you while you’re skinny dipping and thrash you around a bit before dragging you underwater. Or one might burst through the floor of an underwater research facility and chomp you in half. There are also more subtle methods of death, like finding yourself stranded in the middle of the ocean when a shark bites your leg and then swims off, leaving you to slowly bleed to death. Canada’s Eaten by Sharks throw their own narrative hat in the ring on their second album, The Undertow of Hate, a dark and brutal vision of violence in the deep seas.

The songs on The Undertow of Hate behave just like killer sharks—they’re brutal, shifty, violent, and efficient. Eaten by Sharks achieve this through a deathcore-adjacent style of death metal that straddles the line between Fit for an Autopsy and Cattle Decapitation. Down-tuned, chugging guitars and pummeling blast beats provide an atmosphere of dark violence, and the high-energy music feels like a rallying cry for sharks in a feeding frenzy. Eaten by Sharks also dip into The Black Dahlia Murder-style melodeath on the likes of the speedy and entertaining “Bodies Overboard” and “Crimson Tide.” The Undertow of Hate isn’t all pedal to the metal, though. It often pauses for slower moments, surveying the outcome of the violence with pithy observations like “Look at all the bodies” (“Bodies Overboard”). The progressive nature of the music ensures a narrative flow rather than a mere repetition of ideas.

Eaten by Sharks have produced a masterwork of horror in terms of atmosphere and storytelling. Borrowing from horror stalwarts Fulci, they integrate atmospheric soundbites into the opening of each song. Far from being annoying or gimmicky, these touches meld naturally into the music. Opener “Vessels Torn” combines gentle guitar riffs, crying seagulls, and the straining of a ship against the waves before plunging into the violence of guitars and growls. Other tracks open with people screaming in terror, splashes of water, underwater bubbles, and even a soundbite from the original Jaws. These touches help immerse the listener in the grisly setting and add a layer of depth to the pummeling music. It all culminates in a brilliant outro, “Surfaced Remains,” which uses surprisingly lovely arpeggios and some audio tricks to give the sense of bodies rising to the surface, making for a poignant, if nihilistic, conclusion to the record.

The musicians overcome a pretty bad mixing job to put together an album that sounds much better than it should. I think it helps that Eaten by Sharks doesn’t overwhelm with a busy mix—they take a rather simple, though effective, approach to the music. The drums from Justin Whitehead may be a touch too loud, but he lays the framework for violence with some powerful blast beats, while taking things down a notch as the narrative requires. The dual guitar work from Chris Chaperon and Dan Oko helps instill a sense of the unfolding chaos through the use of dissonant, off-kilter riffs. Yet they also incorporate some impressive shredding, technical wizardry, and memorable melodic touches, which help allay the oft-used repetitive chugging. Matt Sherriff puts together an impressively schizophrenic performance behind the mic. His convincing swap between deep throaty growls and rasping snarls gives the impression of a second vocalist. On the terrific “Treading Water,” he demonstrates a melodic storytelling capacity that’s just a blast to listen to.

The attention to detail throughout The Undertow to Hate shows that these guys had a ton of fun with the concept. I do wish Eaten by Sharks had provided a lyrics sheet because Sherriff delivers a number of gems. When he rasps “there’s fucking bodies in the water” on “Crimson Tide,” it’s a chilling, almost gleeful, reminder of the destruction wrought. Touches like these help cover up some other flaws, especially the rather simplistic and sometimes headache-inducing loud chugging guitar/drum/growl combo. Nonetheless, this will end up as one of the year’s most memorable listening experiences. If you love brutal death metal featuring effective storytelling and plenty of wiolence, then you need to go out and get Eaten by Sharks.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 4 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: CDN Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: July 17th, 2026

In his review of Eaten by Sharks’s debut, Eradication, Carcharodon mollified readers about the dangers of sharks by citing statistics. However, statistics don’t erase the fact that sharks look like the stuff of nightmares—and they do sometimes eat people. Most of us prefer to experience this vicariously through film, where we learn sharks are quite versatile killers. They might surprise you while you’re skinny dipping and thrash you around a bit before dragging you underwater. Or one might burst through the floor of an underwater research facility and chomp you in half. There are also more subtle methods of death, like finding yourself stranded in the middle of the ocean when a shark bites your leg and then swims off, leaving you to slowly bleed to death. Canada’s Eaten by Sharks throw their own narrative hat in the ring on their second album, The Undertow of Hate, a dark and brutal vision of violence in the deep seas.

The songs on The Undertow of Hate behave just like killer sharks—they’re brutal, shifty, violent, and efficient. Eaten by Sharks achieve this through a deathcore-adjacent style of death metal that straddles the line between Fit for an Autopsy and Cattle Decapitation. Down-tuned, chugging guitars and pummeling blast beats provide an atmosphere of dark violence, and the high-energy music feels like a rallying cry for sharks in a feeding frenzy. Eaten by Sharks also dip into The Black Dahlia Murder-style melodeath on the likes of the speedy and entertaining “Bodies Overboard” and “Crimson Tide.” The Undertow of Hate isn’t all pedal to the metal, though. It often pauses for slower moments, surveying the outcome of the violence with pithy observations like “Look at all the bodies” (“Bodies Overboard”). The progressive nature of the music ensures a narrative flow rather than a mere repetition of ideas.

Eaten by Sharks have produced a masterwork of horror in terms of atmosphere and storytelling. Borrowing from horror stalwarts Fulci, they integrate atmospheric soundbites into the opening of each song. Far from being annoying or gimmicky, these touches meld naturally into the music. Opener “Vessels Torn” combines gentle guitar riffs, crying seagulls, and the straining of a ship against the waves before plunging into the violence of guitars and growls. Other tracks open with people screaming in terror, splashes of water, underwater bubbles, and even a soundbite from the original Jaws. These touches help immerse the listener in the grisly setting and add a layer of depth to the pummeling music. It all culminates in a brilliant outro, “Surfaced Remains,” which uses surprisingly lovely arpeggios and some audio tricks to give the sense of bodies rising to the surface, making for a poignant, if nihilistic, conclusion to the record.

The musicians overcome a pretty bad mixing job to put together an album that sounds much better than it should. I think it helps that Eaten by Sharks doesn’t overwhelm with a busy mix—they take a rather simple, though effective, approach to the music. The drums from Justin Whitehead may be a touch too loud, but he lays the framework for violence with some powerful blast beats, while taking things down a notch as the narrative requires. The dual guitar work from Chris Chaperon and Dan Oko helps instill a sense of the unfolding chaos through the use of dissonant, off-kilter riffs. Yet they also incorporate some impressive shredding, technical wizardry, and memorable melodic touches, which help allay the oft-used repetitive chugging. Matt Sherriff puts together an impressively schizophrenic performance behind the mic. His convincing swap between deep throaty growls and rasping snarls gives the impression of a second vocalist. On the terrific “Treading Water,” he demonstrates a melodic storytelling capacity that’s just a blast to listen to.

The attention to detail throughout The Undertow to Hate shows that these guys had a ton of fun with the concept. I do wish Eaten by Sharks had provided a lyrics sheet because Sherriff delivers a number of gems. When he rasps “there’s fucking bodies in the water” on “Crimson Tide,” it’s a chilling, almost gleeful, reminder of the destruction wrought. Touches like these help cover up some other flaws, especially the rather simplistic and sometimes headache-inducing loud chugging guitar/drum/growl combo. Nonetheless, this will end up as one of the year’s most memorable listening experiences. If you love brutal death metal featuring effective storytelling and plenty of wiolence, then you need to go out and get Eaten by Sharks.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 4 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: CDN Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: July 17th, 2026

In his review of Eaten by Sharks’s debut, Eradication, Carcharodon mollified readers about the dangers of sharks by citing statistics. However, statistics don’t erase the fact that sharks look like the stuff of nightmares—and they do sometimes eat people. Most of us prefer to experience this vicariously through film, where we learn sharks are quite versatile killers. They might surprise you while you’re skinny dipping and thrash you around a bit before dragging you underwater. Or one might burst through the floor of an underwater research facility and chomp you in half. There are also more subtle methods of death, like finding yourself stranded in the middle of the ocean when a shark bites your leg and then swims off, leaving you to slowly bleed to death. Canada’s Eaten by Sharks throw their own narrative hat in the ring on their second album, The Undertow of Hate, a dark and brutal vision of violence in the deep seas.

The songs on The Undertow of Hate behave just like killer sharks—they’re brutal, shifty, violent, and efficient. Eaten by Sharks achieve this through a deathcore-adjacent style of death metal that straddles the line between Fit for an Autopsy and Cattle Decapitation. Down-tuned, chugging guitars and pummeling blast beats provide an atmosphere of dark violence, and the high-energy music feels like a rallying cry for sharks in a feeding frenzy. Eaten by Sharks also dip into The Black Dahlia Murder-style melodeath on the likes of the speedy and entertaining “Bodies Overboard” and “Crimson Tide.” The Undertow of Hate isn’t all pedal to the metal, though. It often pauses for slower moments, surveying the outcome of the violence with pithy observations like “Look at all the bodies” (“Bodies Overboard”). The progressive nature of the music ensures a narrative flow rather than a mere repetition of ideas.

Eaten by Sharks have produced a masterwork of horror in terms of atmosphere and storytelling. Borrowing from horror stalwarts Fulci, they integrate atmospheric soundbites into the opening of each song. Far from being annoying or gimmicky, these touches meld naturally into the music. Opener “Vessels Torn” combines gentle guitar riffs, crying seagulls, and the straining of a ship against the waves before plunging into the violence of guitars and growls. Other tracks open with people screaming in terror, splashes of water, underwater bubbles, and even a soundbite from the original Jaws. These touches help immerse the listener in the grisly setting and add a layer of depth to the pummeling music. It all culminates in a brilliant outro, “Surfaced Remains,” which uses surprisingly lovely arpeggios and some audio tricks to give the sense of bodies rising to the surface, making for a poignant, if nihilistic, conclusion to the record.

The musicians overcome a pretty bad mixing job to put together an album that sounds much better than it should. I think it helps that Eaten by Sharks doesn’t overwhelm with a busy mix—they take a rather simple, though effective, approach to the music. The drums from Justin Whitehead may be a touch too loud, but he lays the framework for violence with some powerful blast beats, while taking things down a notch as the narrative requires. The dual guitar work from Chris Chaperon and Dan Oko helps instill a sense of the unfolding chaos through the use of dissonant, off-kilter riffs. Yet they also incorporate some impressive shredding, technical wizardry, and memorable melodic touches, which help allay the oft-used repetitive chugging. Matt Sherriff puts together an impressively schizophrenic performance behind the mic. His convincing swap between deep throaty growls and rasping snarls gives the impression of a second vocalist. On the terrific “Treading Water,” he demonstrates a melodic storytelling capacity that’s just a blast to listen to.

The attention to detail throughout The Undertow to Hate shows that these guys had a ton of fun with the concept. I do wish Eaten by Sharks had provided a lyrics sheet because Sherriff delivers a number of gems. When he rasps “there’s fucking bodies in the water” on “Crimson Tide,” it’s a chilling, almost gleeful, reminder of the destruction wrought. Touches like these help cover up some other flaws, especially the rather simplistic and sometimes headache-inducing loud chugging guitar/drum/growl combo. Nonetheless, this will end up as one of the year’s most memorable listening experiences. If you love brutal death metal featuring effective storytelling and plenty of wiolence, then you need to go out and get Eaten by Sharks.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 4 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: CDN Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: July 17th, 2026

Tech death is a saturated field crowded with artists determined to out-noodle each other. It can be great fun, but the density of artists that overpopulate the scene often make it difficult to find something interesting or novel. As cookie-cutter album after cookie-cutter album whooshes overhead, a curious little gem by Québécois one-man tech death act Volubilis1 caught my periphery. Entitled Theasterion, Volubilis’ debut LP entered development prior to the band’s own establishment. Mastermind Miguel Marcheterre-Pina penned content that would end up a part of Theasterion as early as 2016 (earliest known use of the Volubilis name is registered in 2023). That’s a long time for a debut to percolate, but does such an extended incubation period result in stronger spawn?

Theasterion is an exemplary argument in favor of “quality over quantity,” boasting 33 minutes of the most fun and exciting straight-up technical death metal I’ve heard all year so far. Imagine if Equipoise was much more minimalist (“Ashes & Embers,” “Unukhalai Supernova”), but infused First Fragment’s epic sweeps (“Homo Cumulus”), Obscura’s and Nawabs of Destruction’s dramatic melodicism (“Le Flamboiement Stellaire,” “The Prism”), and Scumbag’s vicious groove (“Theasterion,” “Unukhalai Supernova”), and you have the overarching breadth of Volubilis’ sound. Compelling songwriting backed by a crystalline but not overly polished mix allows these various traits to meld in colorful synchronicity, creating a cohesive and effortless listening experience that is as boisterous as it is rewarding to revisit.

To scaffold his riff-laden, exuberant compositions, Marcheterre-Pina wisely recruited talent from across the Canadian metal scene with a meticulous ear. I in particular appreciate that nobody in his lineup is a household name in the tech scene,2 but everyone performs here as if their careers depended on it. André Dubien absolutely destroys his mic with an explosive combination of monstrous roars and screeching high rasps. Jacob Collins’ percussive attack is multifaceted and energetic, exhibiting an infectious predilection for machine-gun double-bass runs (“Le Flamboiement Stellaire”). Shawn Hillman acquits himself with aplomb on the low end as well, his bass noodling and compact counterpoint contrasting wonderfully with Marcheterre-Pina’s crushing riffs and oscillating lead work (“Theasterion”). Guest guitar solos from Alexis Rioux fit right at home on tracks one and three, camouflaging themselves inside of their respective songs while sparkling and shimmering with bright tones and expressive phrases. So too do Michelle Gao’s strings on the closing track, adding a lushness that feels appropriate to elevate Theasterion’s final moments.

If the performances aren’t argument enough in support of Theasterion’s claim to greatness, the songwriting alone carries. Every track has something of substance to take home, and while a couple of items shine more brightly than others (especially “Theasterion” and “Homo Cumulus”), none feel lackluster by comparison in any category. Smart editing across the runtime allows a per-song average that totals above five minutes to feel justified, and the high-octane pace maintained throughout even the longest tracks (“Theasterion,” “Unukhalai Supernova” at 6-and-a-half minutes each) shrinks time around them. Mid-song transitions involving piano, acoustic reprisals of Marcheterre-Pina’s leads, and tumbling percussive fills smooth the canyons carved by deeply layered meltdowns and punishing swings (“Ashes & Embers”). Every decision made to construct, perform, and engineer Theasterion seems tailored to deliver the most bang for the buck. This, in turn, leaves very little opportunity for flaws to creep in.

With enough spins, though, a couple of flaws do creep. The primary of these is the abrupt manner in which some songs end. While none are wholly disruptive, and the subsequent launch of neighboring tracks routinely offers a thematic through-line to help hold Theasterion aloft, a bit of extra silence—or a gentler fade-out on occasion—would soften these overly sharp departures. Secondly, while I do enjoy Theasterion’s mix and master, I think moving André’s vocals back a half step would balance things out a bit more without threatening his well-earned spotlight. Otherwise, there’s very little to complain about here. Volubilis came out swinging with a killer underground tech-death debut. You best move out of their way lest you get your face smashed.

Rating: Great!
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Self Released
Website: Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: July 10th, 2026

If unrepentant guitar shredding gets your juices flowing, be warned that Arise from Worms bursts at the seams with face-melting indulgence on A Bleeding Tree Hanging Self Destruction. Boasting legends from essential death metal bands, Arise from Worms sports a first-rate, international pedigree. The project’s genesis stems from Sonny Lombardozzi, who seeks to push past genre boundaries in his quest for technical ecstasy. Lombardozzi spent time with Incantation from 2017 to 2019, contributing guitars for Profane Nexus, and recruited Morbid Angel vocalist Steve Tucker while supporting the Tampa institution on tour.1 From there, Lombardozzi rounded out the band with first-rate musicians. Cryptopsy‘s Flo Mounier bashes skulls and skins with his signature percussive shellacking, and ex-Dream Theater, ex-Yngwie Malmsteen keyboardist Derek Sherinian lends his high-velocity runs and proggy accents. Armed with enough firepower to defend a small nation, does A Bleeding Tree Hanging Self Destruction pack enough punch to make our collective worms arise?

Based solely on the members involved, A Bleeding Tree Hanging Self Destruction may not sound like what listeners expect to hear. Though Morbid Angel embodies an apt starting place with their serpentine riffs, Arise from Worms accelerates the speed and jolts guitar tones with a candied DragonForce coating. Sherinian’s contributions occasionally skew towards Dream Theater,2 though A Bleeding Tree requires a darker degree of menace and foreboding. Overall, Arise from Worms sounds a lot like Necrophagist, but with keyboards and a penchant for wankery. And though this comparison isn’t perfect, it gives prospective listeners a point to begin shaping expectations.

Arise from Worms’ performances across A Bleeding Tree Hanging Self Destruction doubtlessly spellbind with technicality. Lombardozzi’s masterclass shredding eats up the stage at every turn as he dances up and down the fretboard with enough gusto to make Yngwie blush. From the gratuitous weedlies in “Forgotten Kings” to the Annihilator-ready precision chugging in “Laolongtou,” Lombardozzi never leaves listeners doubting his greed for speed, whether on guitars or bass (“Axes of the Viovode 2”). In fact, Arise from Worms showcases excellent bassmanship throughout A Bleeding Tree, often shadowing the guitars with rousing plucking and impossibly dextrous burbles. Meanwhile, Mounier discharges an unimpeachable onslaught behind the kit, where furious double bass rolls (“Psionic Being”), jazz-flavored snare and cymbal finesse (“Nine Walls”), and tempered beatdowns amidst metronomic grooves (“Raize Demons Breath,” “Axes of the Viovode 1”) epitomize his exacting style and capture what makes him one of my favorite metal drummers. Similarly, Sherinian embeds synth flourishes and eldritch atmospherics to give Arise from Worms ample mystique while loosing dazzling keyboard cascades every now and again (“Laolongtou”). Though not as immediately eye-popping as the instrumentation, Tucker delivers an appropriately monstrous performance on A Bleeding Tree, and if there’s one ingredient Arise from Worms could use more of, it’s Tucker’s vicious vocals.

Unfortunately, despite the wizardry dripping off Arise from Worms’ A Bleeding Tree, insufficient songwriting prevents the technicality from coalescing into fully formed songs. “Forgotten Kings” and “Axes of the Viovode 1 & 2” give Tucker just enough of a platform to build towards proper tracks, but after a few listens, A Bleeding Tree loses its allure and leaks its jaw-dropping magic—even at a reasonable thirty-six minutes. More positively, the music sounds great, with Lombardozzi commanding Arise from Worms with frictionless licks and searing speeds. Given the bad reputation technical death metal gets for poor production, I find A Bleeding Tree a step above in this department, where strings, keys, drums, and vocals crash into one another with satisfying zeal while allowing each other plenty of room within the mix.

As a fan of technical showmanship and a high tolerance for self-indulgent instrumentation, Arise from Worms’ debut leaves me impressed yet mostly unmoved. A Bleeding Tree Hanging Self Destruction sounds incredible on paper, and lead single “Forgotten Kings” had me convinced that this would be a special album. In the promo materials, Arise from Worms touts breaking new musical ground and pioneering the writing of novel harmonies and time signatures. Yet in reality, A Bleeding Tree often exhibits the technicality of a clinic or workshop while lacking the songwriting cohesion to elevate songs past the surface. In the end, A Bleeding Tree lingers between outstanding performances and an inadequate execution of fulfilling metal songcraft, and while A Bleeding Tree may be worth Hanging around for, Arise for Worms carries more promise than they deliver on their debut.

Rating: Mixed
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: V0 or ~260 kbps VBR mp3
Label: Church Road Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: July 10th, 2026

https://www.europesays.com/uk/1058089/ Thætas – The Irredeemable Age Review #2026 #40 #Afterbirth #AmericanMetal #BrutalDeathMetal #DeathMetal #DefeatedSanity #Entertainment #ImperialTriumphant #Jun26 #music #ProfoundLore #ProfoundLoreRecords #Review #Reviews #slam #TechnicalDeathMetal #Thaetas #TheIrredeemableAge #UK #UnitedKingdom #Veilburner

When I happened upon New York brutal tech troupe Thætas back in 2020, I likened their particular brand of brutalist, sprawling death metal to an alternate universe where Afterbirth were raised in a Brooklyn gutter. It was a sound I didn’t realize would resonate as strongly with me as it did, but it seemed as time passed that I wasn’t going to get another hit. Then, out of nowhere, an announcement for The Irredeemable Age graced me with a seedy cover and a nasty single to hook me in once more. Armed with one fewer member and enough angular songwriting to make AMG Himself spontaneously explode, can Thætas build an even grander structure atop their Shrines to Absurdity?

Thætas still makes a great gritty companion to the more spiritually inclined Afterbirth, but The Irredeemable Age further develops and diversifies that sound. Boasting new twangs and bends that heavily recall Veilburner (“Daytime Lantern”) and a city-dwelling skew that echoes Imperial Triumphant (“Digital Locusts”)—working in concert with familiar gnarled twists that puts them in a similar space as Defeated Sanity—Thætas subverts my penchant for accessibility and lures me ‘neath the sewer grate. At one with the slime that writhes underfoot, The Irredeemable Age is a monstrous creature composed of ugly riffs, screeching scrapes and pinches, and enough stomping rhythms to level a mountain. It brooks no quarter as it tosses me through concrete walls, with very little in the way of telegraphing or transition in between pummels (“DHUKHA,” “Summers of Hate”). With such rapid shifting and relentless violence, I’d expect the experience to feel disjointed and scattered. Thætas are smarter songwriters than that. Somehow, they crafted these 31 minutes with such intricate and intentional technicality that no piece or portion can be excised from the whole without causing a major disruption to its form and flow.

Despite its mangled anatomy, The Irredeemable Age is effortlessly enjoyable. This is in no small part due to its warm, natural, and full-bodied engineering, but its deceptively hooky songwriting too makes an airtight case. High-energy romps “Summers of Hate,” “The End of History,” and “For the Hope Devoid” invigorate The Irredeemable Age’s first half, moving with a springy agility that belies their brutal musculature. Those Veilburner twangs come in clutch at the center of the record—evoking imagery of skulls bashed against I-beams under the train tracks—and imbue stomping slams like “The Irredeemable Age” with huge personality. A delightfully clanky bass tone deepens this robust character as the record progresses, too. Additional nuance and texture develops in this meaty core before late album bangers “Stretched Paradox” and “Pillars of Fault” dress me down once more. None of that prepares for the white-hot branding that awaits with stunning closer “Digital Locusts.” A vast improvement in editing compared to Shrines’ closing track, this five-minute send off embodies all of the skills displayed up to that point and coagulates them into one final tear that makes it impossible to deny the replay button’s allure.

That replay button turned out to be a critical piece of The Irredeemable Age’s success. Despite its more aggressive and propulsive attack, The Irredeemable Age is in some ways less immediate than Shrines. Shrines to Absurdity was so weird, darkly whimsical, and tricky that it made an instant impression. Here, however, I find refinement, sophistication, and maturity. A method informs madness. The whimsical aspects of Thætas’ sound acclimate better to their surroundings, and the unhinged nature of their songwriting settles into a smoother groove. Opening track “DUKHKA” is the only exception, posing a small introductory speed bump in pacing with its staggered slams. On the other hand, it tempers expectations just enough to make the subsequent obliteration all that much more impactful. All in all, though, The Irredeemable Age houses a greater density of details and ideas that reveal themselves with multiple spins, which in turn creates deeper memorability. But it comes at a price. Listeners must invest a small measure more time with The Irredeemable Age to see its magic unfurl.

Unfurl The Irredeemable Age inevitably does. Thætas found a striking balance of memorability, technical precision, and filth that makes The Irredeemable Age an absolute joy of grotesque sounds. And thanks to tightened editing, diversified sonic elements, and refined songwriting, it only gets better the more often you spin it. So the next time you wander into sketchy back alleys sniffing for prime brutal tech death, ask for Thætas.

Rating: Great!
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Profound Lore Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: June 26th, 2026

When I happened upon New York brutal tech troupe Thætas back in 2020, I likened their particular brand of brutalist, sprawling death metal to an alternate universe where Afterbirth were raised in a Brooklyn gutter. It was a sound I didn’t realize would resonate as strongly with me as it did, but it seemed as time passed that I wasn’t going to get another hit. Then, out of nowhere, an announcement for The Irredeemable Age graced me with a seedy cover and a nasty single to hook me in once more. Armed with one fewer member and enough angular songwriting to make AMG Himself spontaneously explode, can Thætas build an even grander structure atop their Shrines to Absurdity?

Thætas still makes a great gritty companion to the more spiritually inclined Afterbirth, but The Irredeemable Age further develops and diversifies that sound. Boasting new twangs and bends that heavily recall Veilburner (“Daytime Lantern”) and a city-dwelling skew that echoes Imperial Triumphant (“Digital Locusts”)—working in concert with familiar gnarled twists that puts them in a similar space as Defeated Sanity—Thætas subverts my penchant for accessibility and lures me ‘neath the sewer grate. At one with the slime that writhes underfoot, The Irredeemable Age is a monstrous creature composed of ugly riffs, screeching scrapes and pinches, and enough stomping rhythms to level a mountain. It brooks no quarter as it tosses me through concrete walls, with very little in the way of telegraphing or transition in between pummels (“DHUKHA,” “Summers of Hate”). With such rapid shifting and relentless violence, I’d expect the experience to feel disjointed and scattered. Thætas are smarter songwriters than that. Somehow, they crafted these 31 minutes with such intricate and intentional technicality that no piece or portion can be excised from the whole without causing a major disruption to its form and flow.

Despite its mangled anatomy, The Irredeemable Age is effortlessly enjoyable. This is in no small part due to its warm, natural, and full-bodied engineering, but its deceptively hooky songwriting too makes an airtight case. High-energy romps “Summers of Hate,” “The End of History,” and “For the Hope Devoid” invigorate The Irredeemable Age’s first half, moving with a springy agility that belies their brutal musculature. Those Veilburner twangs come in clutch at the center of the record—evoking imagery of skulls bashed against I-beams under the train tracks—and imbue stomping slams like “The Irredeemable Age” with huge personality. A delightfully clanky bass tone deepens this robust character as the record progresses, too. Additional nuance and texture develops in this meaty core before late album bangers “Stretched Paradox” and “Pillars of Fault” dress me down once more. None of that prepares for the white-hot branding that awaits with stunning closer “Digital Locusts.” A vast improvement in editing compared to Shrines’ closing track, this five-minute send off embodies all of the skills displayed up to that point and coagulates them into one final tear that makes it impossible to deny the replay button’s allure.

That replay button turned out to be a critical piece of The Irredeemable Age’s success. Despite its more aggressive and propulsive attack, The Irredeemable Age is in some ways less immediate than Shrines. Shrines to Absurdity was so weird, darkly whimsical, and tricky that it made an instant impression. Here, however, I find refinement, sophistication, and maturity. A method informs madness. The whimsical aspects of Thætas’ sound acclimate better to their surroundings, and the unhinged nature of their songwriting settles into a smoother groove. Opening track “DUKHKA” is the only exception, posing a small introductory speed bump in pacing with its staggered slams. On the other hand, it tempers expectations just enough to make the subsequent obliteration all that much more impactful. All in all, though, The Irredeemable Age houses a greater density of details and ideas that reveal themselves with multiple spins, which in turn creates deeper memorability. But it comes at a price. Listeners must invest a small measure more time with The Irredeemable Age to see its magic unfurl.

Unfurl The Irredeemable Age inevitably does. Thætas found a striking balance of memorability, technical precision, and filth that makes The Irredeemable Age an absolute joy of grotesque sounds. And thanks to tightened editing, diversified sonic elements, and refined songwriting, it only gets better the more often you spin it. So the next time you wander into sketchy back alleys sniffing for prime brutal tech death, ask for Thætas.

Rating: Great!
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Profound Lore Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: June 26th, 2026

When I happened upon New York brutal tech troupe Thætas back in 2020, I likened their particular brand of brutalist, sprawling death metal to an alternate universe where Afterbirth were raised in a Brooklyn gutter. It was a sound I didn’t realize would resonate as strongly with me as it did, but it seemed as time passed that I wasn’t going to get another hit. Then, out of nowhere, an announcement for The Irredeemable Age graced me with a seedy cover and a nasty single to hook me in once more. Armed with one fewer member and enough angular songwriting to make AMG Himself spontaneously explode, can Thætas build an even grander structure atop their Shrines to Absurdity?

Thætas still makes a great gritty companion to the more spiritually inclined Afterbirth, but The Irredeemable Age further develops and diversifies that sound. Boasting new twangs and bends that heavily recall Veilburner (“Daytime Lantern”) and a city-dwelling skew that echoes Imperial Triumphant (“Digital Locusts”)—working in concert with familiar gnarled twists that puts them in a similar space as Defeated Sanity—Thætas subverts my penchant for accessibility and lures me ‘neath the sewer grate. At one with the slime that writhes underfoot, The Irredeemable Age is a monstrous creature composed of ugly riffs, screeching scrapes and pinches, and enough stomping rhythms to level a mountain. It brooks no quarter as it tosses me through concrete walls, with very little in the way of telegraphing or transition in between pummels (“DHUKHA,” “Summers of Hate”). With such rapid shifting and relentless violence, I’d expect the experience to feel disjointed and scattered. Thætas are smarter songwriters than that. Somehow, they crafted these 31 minutes with such intricate and intentional technicality that no piece or portion can be excised from the whole without causing a major disruption to its form and flow.

Despite its mangled anatomy, The Irredeemable Age is effortlessly enjoyable. This is in no small part due to its warm, natural, and full-bodied engineering, but its deceptively hooky songwriting too makes an airtight case. High-energy romps “Summers of Hate,” “The End of History,” and “For the Hope Devoid” invigorate The Irredeemable Age’s first half, moving with a springy agility that belies their brutal musculature. Those Veilburner twangs come in clutch at the center of the record—evoking imagery of skulls bashed against I-beams under the train tracks—and imbue stomping slams like “The Irredeemable Age” with huge personality. A delightfully clanky bass tone deepens this robust character as the record progresses, too. Additional nuance and texture develops in this meaty core before late album bangers “Stretched Paradox” and “Pillars of Fault” dress me down once more. None of that prepares for the white-hot branding that awaits with stunning closer “Digital Locusts.” A vast improvement in editing compared to Shrines’ closing track, this five-minute send off embodies all of the skills displayed up to that point and coagulates them into one final tear that makes it impossible to deny the replay button’s allure.

That replay button turned out to be a critical piece of The Irredeemable Age’s success. Despite its more aggressive and propulsive attack, The Irredeemable Age is in some ways less immediate than Shrines. Shrines to Absurdity was so weird, darkly whimsical, and tricky that it made an instant impression. Here, however, I find refinement, sophistication, and maturity. A method informs madness. The whimsical aspects of Thætas’ sound acclimate better to their surroundings, and the unhinged nature of their songwriting settles into a smoother groove. Opening track “DUKHKA” is the only exception, posing a small introductory speed bump in pacing with its staggered slams. On the other hand, it tempers expectations just enough to make the subsequent obliteration all that much more impactful. All in all, though, The Irredeemable Age houses a greater density of details and ideas that reveal themselves with multiple spins, which in turn creates deeper memorability. But it comes at a price. Listeners must invest a small measure more time with The Irredeemable Age to see its magic unfurl.

Unfurl The Irredeemable Age inevitably does. Thætas found a striking balance of memorability, technical precision, and filth that makes The Irredeemable Age an absolute joy of grotesque sounds. And thanks to tightened editing, diversified sonic elements, and refined songwriting, it only gets better the more often you spin it. So the next time you wander into sketchy back alleys sniffing for prime brutal tech death, ask for Thætas.

Rating: Great!
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Profound Lore Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: June 26th, 2026

When I happened upon New York brutal tech troupe Thætas back in 2020, I likened their particular brand of brutalist, sprawling death metal to an alternate universe where Afterbirth were raised in a Brooklyn gutter. It was a sound I didn’t realize would resonate as strongly with me as it did, but it seemed as time passed that I wasn’t going to get another hit. Then, out of nowhere, an announcement for The Irredeemable Age graced me with a seedy cover and a nasty single to hook me in once more. Armed with one fewer member and enough angular songwriting to make AMG Himself spontaneously explode, can Thætas build an even grander structure atop their Shrines to Absurdity?

Thætas still makes a great gritty companion to the more spiritually inclined Afterbirth, but The Irredeemable Age further develops and diversifies that sound. Boasting new twangs and bends that heavily recall Veilburner (“Daytime Lantern”) and a city-dwelling skew that echoes Imperial Triumphant (“Digital Locusts”)—working in concert with familiar gnarled twists that puts them in a similar space as Defeated Sanity—Thætas subverts my penchant for accessibility and lures me ‘neath the sewer grate. At one with the slime that writhes underfoot, The Irredeemable Age is a monstrous creature composed of ugly riffs, screeching scrapes and pinches, and enough stomping rhythms to level a mountain. It brooks no quarter as it tosses me through concrete walls, with very little in the way of telegraphing or transition in between pummels (“DHUKHA,” “Summers of Hate”). With such rapid shifting and relentless violence, I’d expect the experience to feel disjointed and scattered. Thætas are smarter songwriters than that. Somehow, they crafted these 31 minutes with such intricate and intentional technicality that no piece or portion can be excised from the whole without causing a major disruption to its form and flow.

Despite its mangled anatomy, The Irredeemable Age is effortlessly enjoyable. This is in no small part due to its warm, natural, and full-bodied engineering, but its deceptively hooky songwriting too makes an airtight case. High-energy romps “Summers of Hate,” “The End of History,” and “For the Hope Devoid” invigorate The Irredeemable Age’s first half, moving with a springy agility that belies their brutal musculature. Those Veilburner twangs come in clutch at the center of the record—evoking imagery of skulls bashed against I-beams under the train tracks—and imbue stomping slams like “The Irredeemable Age” with huge personality. A delightfully clanky bass tone deepens this robust character as the record progresses, too. Additional nuance and texture develops in this meaty core before late album bangers “Stretched Paradox” and “Pillars of Fault” dress me down once more. None of that prepares for the white-hot branding that awaits with stunning closer “Digital Locusts.” A vast improvement in editing compared to Shrines’ closing track, this five-minute send off embodies all of the skills displayed up to that point and coagulates them into one final tear that makes it impossible to deny the replay button’s allure.

That replay button turned out to be a critical piece of The Irredeemable Age’s success. Despite its more aggressive and propulsive attack, The Irredeemable Age is in some ways less immediate than Shrines. Shrines to Absurdity was so weird, darkly whimsical, and tricky that it made an instant impression. Here, however, I find refinement, sophistication, and maturity. A method informs madness. The whimsical aspects of Thætas’ sound acclimate better to their surroundings, and the unhinged nature of their songwriting settles into a smoother groove. Opening track “DUKHKA” is the only exception, posing a small introductory speed bump in pacing with its staggered slams. On the other hand, it tempers expectations just enough to make the subsequent obliteration all that much more impactful. All in all, though, The Irredeemable Age houses a greater density of details and ideas that reveal themselves with multiple spins, which in turn creates deeper memorability. But it comes at a price. Listeners must invest a small measure more time with The Irredeemable Age to see its magic unfurl.

Unfurl The Irredeemable Age inevitably does. Thætas found a striking balance of memorability, technical precision, and filth that makes The Irredeemable Age an absolute joy of grotesque sounds. And thanks to tightened editing, diversified sonic elements, and refined songwriting, it only gets better the more often you spin it. So the next time you wander into sketchy back alleys sniffing for prime brutal tech death, ask for Thætas.

Rating: Great!
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Profound Lore Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: June 26th, 2026

When I happened upon New York brutal tech troupe Thætas back in 2020, I likened their particular brand of brutalist, sprawling death metal to an alternate universe where Afterbirth were raised in a Brooklyn gutter. It was a sound I didn’t realize would resonate as strongly with me as it did, but it seemed as time passed that I wasn’t going to get another hit. Then, out of nowhere, an announcement for The Irredeemable Age graced me with a seedy cover and a nasty single to hook me in once more. Armed with one fewer member and enough angular songwriting to make AMG Himself spontaneously explode, can Thætas build an even grander structure atop their Shrines to Absurdity?

Thætas still makes a great gritty companion to the more spiritually inclined Afterbirth, but The Irredeemable Age further develops and diversifies that sound. Boasting new twangs and bends that heavily recall Veilburner (“Daytime Lantern”) and a city-dwelling skew that echoes Imperial Triumphant (“Digital Locusts”)—working in concert with familiar gnarled twists that puts them in a similar space as Defeated Sanity—Thætas subverts my penchant for accessibility and lures me ‘neath the sewer grate. At one with the slime that writhes underfoot, The Irredeemable Age is a monstrous creature composed of ugly riffs, screeching scrapes and pinches, and enough stomping rhythms to level a mountain. It brooks no quarter as it tosses me through concrete walls, with very little in the way of telegraphing or transition in between pummels (“DHUKHA,” “Summers of Hate”). With such rapid shifting and relentless violence, I’d expect the experience to feel disjointed and scattered. Thætas are smarter songwriters than that. Somehow, they crafted these 31 minutes with such intricate and intentional technicality that no piece or portion can be excised from the whole without causing a major disruption to its form and flow.

Despite its mangled anatomy, The Irredeemable Age is effortlessly enjoyable. This is in no small part due to its warm, natural, and full-bodied engineering, but its deceptively hooky songwriting too makes an airtight case. High-energy romps “Summers of Hate,” “The End of History,” and “For the Hope Devoid” invigorate The Irredeemable Age’s first half, moving with a springy agility that belies their brutal musculature. Those Veilburner twangs come in clutch at the center of the record—evoking imagery of skulls bashed against I-beams under the train tracks—and imbue stomping slams like “The Irredeemable Age” with huge personality. A delightfully clanky bass tone deepens this robust character as the record progresses, too. Additional nuance and texture develops in this meaty core before late album bangers “Stretched Paradox” and “Pillars of Fault” dress me down once more. None of that prepares for the white-hot branding that awaits with stunning closer “Digital Locusts.” A vast improvement in editing compared to Shrines’ closing track, this five-minute send off embodies all of the skills displayed up to that point and coagulates them into one final tear that makes it impossible to deny the replay button’s allure.

That replay button turned out to be a critical piece of The Irredeemable Age’s success. Despite its more aggressive and propulsive attack, The Irredeemable Age is in some ways less immediate than Shrines. Shrines to Absurdity was so weird, darkly whimsical, and tricky that it made an instant impression. Here, however, I find refinement, sophistication, and maturity. A method informs madness. The whimsical aspects of Thætas’ sound acclimate better to their surroundings, and the unhinged nature of their songwriting settles into a smoother groove. Opening track “DUKHKA” is the only exception, posing a small introductory speed bump in pacing with its staggered slams. On the other hand, it tempers expectations just enough to make the subsequent obliteration all that much more impactful. All in all, though, The Irredeemable Age houses a greater density of details and ideas that reveal themselves with multiple spins, which in turn creates deeper memorability. But it comes at a price. Listeners must invest a small measure more time with The Irredeemable Age to see its magic unfurl.

Unfurl The Irredeemable Age inevitably does. Thætas found a striking balance of memorability, technical precision, and filth that makes The Irredeemable Age an absolute joy of grotesque sounds. And thanks to tightened editing, diversified sonic elements, and refined songwriting, it only gets better the more often you spin it. So the next time you wander into sketchy back alleys sniffing for prime brutal tech death, ask for Thætas.

Rating: Great!
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Profound Lore Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: June 26th, 2026

True Crime has had its moment in the mainstream, with more than a fair share of content having been generated, particularly in the first half of this decade. But rather than bingeing on Ryan Murphy’s questionable Monster series,1 I instead suggest you take Monument of Misanthropy’s discography for a spin. Washington State Charm is the Austrians’ third successive LP tackling the exploits of a notorious serial killer—this time, Ted Bundy—and it’s bags more fun and significantly less disrespectful than your average makeup-and-true-crime YouTube video2 or Netflix dramatization. It’s also a showcase for some pretty great tech-death. As has become their trademark, Monument of Misanthropy evolve once again, tweaking their style to fit their despicable protagonist whilst remaining satisfyingly heavy. Are they still getting away with the gimmick, or is it time to hang up the hacksaw?

One thing’s clear at least: Washington State Charm is entertaining, and it interestingly suits its subject matter. Pivoting away slightly from the grind and brutality of Vile Postmortem Irrumatio and towards melody, hookiness, and groove, the album taps into a different form of Monument of Misanthropy’s signature snappiness. With guest appearances from Johnny Ciardullo (Angelmaker), Mendel bij de Leij (ex-Aborted), Gabe Mangold (Enterprise Earth), Hal Microutsicos (Engulf), and Jean-Jacques Moréac (Misanthrope), the record is scattered with riff-centric deathcore influence. For the most part, this really works. Intentional or not, there’s a parallel between this catchier, more accessible sound and Bundy’s status as one of the most well-known serial killers in modern history, who was also infamously “charming,” “handsome,” and otherwise palatable to society. If the previous album sounded, as I said at the time, “like Cattle Decapitation had a baby with Aborted,” then Washington State Charm is that baby growing into a teenager and experimenting, funnily enough, resembling their parent Aborted quite markedly, but with a bit of Cytotoxin by way of Dying Fetus thrown in for good measure.

Washington State Charm’s key strength is how Monument of Misanthropy twisted each aspect of their sound to make the whole infectiously catchy and memorable. Melody floods in with effervescent lead arpeggios (“Neath Tacoma Asphalt,” “A Hunger Unstilled,” “Colorado Murder”). Speed is used smartly in tandem with punchy syncopation (title track), and is met with a fairer dose of slower, circular swing (“The 1974 PNW Spree,” “The Hacksaw Blade”). The band’s mastery of rhythm to emphasize their punchlines (“The 1974…,” “Colorado Murder”), amp up the energy (“Neath Tacoma Asphalt,” “Colorado Murder”), and create an irresistible groove (“Suwannee Hog Shed”) has markedly improved.3 Together, this makes for highlights like the twin-guitar soloing on “Neath Tacoma Asphalt,” the drop-tuned uptempo groove on “Colorado Murder,” the call-and-response snarls and beats on “Chi Omega Blood Rage,” and the wonderful seesawing slide on “Strapped to the Throne.” There’s no way you’re listening to this without a savage grin plastered on your face.

It’s the album’s structure that lets down what might otherwise be a knock-out success. Humming with adrenaline from the literal high note of “Neath Tacoma Asphalt”‘s final riff, the inexplicably instrumental “A Hunger Unstilled” hits a little strangely. It’s a great piece in isolation, with a churning progression of melody and pace that calls to mind some hybrid of Aborted and Hath. But it’s most charitably taken as an extended intro to “The 1974…—which instantly kicks things back into murderous gear—and that feels wasteful. Monument of Misanthropy again add interview samples as miniature tracks, but their placement is similarly wonky, clustered around the start and end. It’s also hard not to compare them unfavorably to the drama-enhancing atmospheric examples on VPI. One could argue—not without justification—that these quirks are an intended reflection of their subject’s “career”: long periods without arrest, and an escape and ensuing murder spree once he was finally caught the first time. That would be fair, though it wouldn’t totally iron out flaws in the album’s flow. Less understandable, though less egregious, is the recurrence of a classic death metal cover at the close—Nile’s “Eye of Ra.” It’s a decent cover, but I don’t fully see its relevance.4

Washington State Charm achieves what it sets out to do: narrate the grisly story of a serial killer through slick, crushing death metal. It even goes one further, improving on the production—non-sample tracks averaging a DR of 5.5. Naysayers might bemoan the perceived slide towards accessibility, but really, the sheer gleeful energy of Washington State Charm is a testament to Monument of Misanthropy’s ever-increasing mastery of their craft.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Listenable Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: June 26th, 2026

After releasing debut LP Prodigy of the Grotesque in 2020, Canada’s Goreworm re-emerges from their burrow with follow-up full-length Miasmic Solitude. Prodigy of the Grotesque enchanted me when I ran across it a few years ago—sweeping guitars, slick bass grooves, and a deliciously vigorous percussive cannonade made for a tasty tech death treat. Now six years later, Goreworm has metamorphosed from the band that dropped Prodigy. Vocalist Jesse Suess and founding members drummer Sean Bruce and bassist Derek Gibbs bid adieu, leaving guitarists Jordan Estrela and Brent Moerschfelder to carry the torch. For Miasmic Solitude, Goreworm rounds out the ensemble with session drummer Robin Stone (Ashen Horde, Chestcrush), who flayed the skins on 2021 EP Plague of Shadows, and vocalist Robert Miller (Antheraea). With a revitalized crew and a fresh batch of jams in hand, can Miasmic Solitude worm its way into your heart?

Technical death metal can be a tough genre to craft thoughtful songs within. The most immediate hurdle is technical chops—if you can’t muster the dexterity to pull off instrumental mayhem, you’re sunk. Yet the ability to play at blistering speeds with robotic fidelity isn’t enough on its own; it’s merely the price of admission. To transcend in the genre as the best from Necrophagist, Obscura, and Archspire have, you need crystalline mechanics embedded within engrossing and memorable compositions. Goreworm’s brand of death metal lands amidst the likes of The Black Dahlia Murder, Vale of Pnath and Abysmal Dawn, sporting burly riffs played at head-spinning velocity with occasional splashes of neoclassical color. This, at least, ensures the price of admission has been paid in full.

Goreworm members old and new unleash the razzle-dazzle on Miasmic Solitude as they pump gallons of adrenalized ear candy into its compositions. Estrela and Moerschfelder beget a sinewy string section, uncorking spidery leads that dash along fretboards with muscle and venom (“Monuments to Murdering,” “Miasmic Solitude”). Moerschfelder pulls double duty on the low-end, too, clanging and banging with satisfying heft. I only wish he broke away more from playing under the guitars and locking into root notes. To be clear, this is a nitpick on style and not a comment on his ability to bring the thunder. It’s just that compared to Gibbs’ bass on Prodigy of the Grotesque, Miasmic Solitude loses a dimension that helped set Goreworm’s debut apart. Meanwhile, Stone supplies a magnificent performance behind the kit, unfettering smooth rolls à la Chris Adler (“Amor Vincit Omnia”) and hammer-smashing cavalcades that recall the ferocity of Cannibal Corpse’s Paul Marzurkiewicz fused with the grace of Dirk Verbeuren (“No Reprieve”). Robert Miller proves a capable vocalist, and though his performance isn’t particularly dynamic, he supports the music well and sounds credibly savage throughout.

Goreworm crackles with vitality throughout Miasmic Solitude, yet the entirety falls short of the promise of its performances. The production proves a mixed bag, allowing the guitars and vocals to shine at the expense of the drums, which sometimes cut through but often become muddled during furious blasts, obscuring the pop of robust drum tones I loved on the debut. Perhaps the intent was to thematically embrace what a cloudy, claustrophobic atmosphere achieves, shining the spotlight on a single focus at a time. If so, I can appreciate the attempt, but it fails to properly incorporate all the ingredients into what Goreworm is cooking. Besides the mix, the songwriting highlights Goreworm’s technical acumen without sharpening their hooks enough to reel me back in once the music fades. To be fair, Miasmic Solitude rips throughout its runtime and is a qualified neck-wrecker—I just don’t feel compelled to revisit it afterwards.

Ultimately, Goreworm exhibits a myriad of traits I love to hear in technical death metal. With a more well-rounded production and carefully honed compositions that transcend being platforms for flexing technical mastery, Goreworm bears all the potential to annihilate expectations. As it stands, after several listens through Miasmic Solitude, there’s no doubt that Goreworm possesses the prowess necessary to deliver on the technical front. I’m just unconvinced of the magnetism their material yields to keep me coming back past the pyrotechnics.

Rating: Mixed
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Transcending Obscurity Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: June 12th, 2026

Though my first published review here at Angry Metal Guy was back in September 2024, it was on May 30, 2025, that I officially escaped n00bdom with my review of Rivers of Nihil’s self-titled album. As I approach my one-year anniversary, it seems appropriate to grab a promo that styles itself after the progressive tech-death of Rivers of Nihil. Thus, enter The Scalar Process with their sophomore outing, Agnomysticism. Not only do they sound kind of like Rivers of Nihil, but they even borrow Andy Thomas for a guest spot on one song. The Scalar Process formed in 2016, but didn’t release any material until 2021’s Coagulative Matter. It took another five years to release the follow-up, with a new drummer, additional guitarist and bassist. Having never heard these guys before, I picked up Agnomysticism in the hope of it being closer in quality to Xenotaph than Rivers of Nihil. Have the metal gods blessed these guys with supreme musical talent?

On Agnomysticism, The Scalar Process plays a synth-heavy tech death that blends speedy precision with calm ambiance. They have much in common with Fallujah and The Zenith Passage, though not the technicality in their riffs. The riffs featured here are largely of the bland chugging Rivers of Nihil variety, though with a few neat arpeggiated segments and solos here and there. Synths are omnipresent, adding a general atmospheric quality rather than hooks. Songs frequently begin with light atmospherics such as synths, trems, or arpeggios before diving into the heavy stuff. There’s less interest in creating original, catchy riffs of the kind you hear on Xenotaph or Datalysium. When songs get speedy and loud, they just sound flat—bland blast beats with non-descript riffs and Mathieu Lefevre’s monotone growls. Honestly, if it weren’t for the tempo changes, you’d hardly notice the passage from track to track.

Agnomysticism contains a collection of songs that are clean, clinical, and cold. With tech-death you expect to feel something of the sublime—the awe and wonder of musical passages (Stortregn’s Impermanence) or something that compels your body to move (Archspire). Yet, The Scalar Process appears content to emotionally distance themselves from their musical creation. The main ingredient in this distance is an apparent allergy to hooks. Any time a promising riff starts up, such as on “A Breathing Moment,” it just as quickly dissipates. The Scalar Process take their progressive structure and turn it into a sort of improvisational free-for-all where passages just don’t have room to develop. “A Breathing Moment” perfectly encapsulates this, as it ends on a disappointing fade-out just as it appears on the verge of going somewhere interesting. The Scalar Process do play some neat riffs now and then, with a solo on “Illness” from Justin McKinney (The Zenith Passage) being the best. But other attempts at hooks don’t work, such as a 30-second guest spot from Andy Thomas, whose cleans fall flat.

Could this just be another The Flesh Prevails? The compression on Agnomysticism is so crushed that the music—riffs, synths, drums, vocals—all become an indistinguishable mishmash until the quieter ambient segments. Where many times bands use these quieter moments to help build tension before a release of intense music, here the passages largely serve to give your ears a rest. Even on the lowest possible volume on my headphones, I found the loudness unbearable. The best-sounding songs are the full-length ambient instrumental interludes, “Affluent Marea” and “Sigil.” However, though they serve as a welcome rest for the ears, they sound more at home on an elevator than on a tech-death record. A better production would make this a more tolerable listen, but it would hardly fix all the issues plaguing Agnomysticism.

It’s rare that an album leaves me feeling so cold as Agnomysticism. It flies by in 45 minutes and leaves no real impression. I’ll give credit for a few impressive technical passages here and there, but otherwise, I’m not sure what The Scalar Process accomplishes. Where’s the passion? It just feels so aloof and meandering without purpose, and the mixing ensures you can’t properly hear it anyway. In the end, it’s a record you’ll struggle to recall as soon as you finish listening to it.

Rating: 1.5/5.0
DR: 4 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Transcending Obscurity Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Site
Releases Worldwide: May 29th, 2026

For a band that takes its namesake from a Harry Potter reference (ew), Nashville’s Inferi are infinitely more brutal than its original inspiration. Blending searing speed, flashy technicality, and death metal intensity, Inferi have been at the forefront of tech death for over fifteen years now, and their latest release, Heaven Wept, comes after a five-year gap. With such a chasm between their releases, is Heaven Wept a reformation for the band or a refinement of their sound?

Heaven Wept establishes itself quickly, and the band sounds tighter than ever. Immediately apparent is Stevie Boiser’s vocals, which flit from screeching highs, boastful mids, and throat-wrinkling lows. Boiser doesn’t seem to have a weak point when it comes to his capabilities, and he leads tracks along like a malicious conductor (not unlike Trevor Strnad of The Black Dahlia Murder, RIP). For Inferi, the technical prowess expands beyond just the instruments, and the vocals on display across Heaven Wept are bound to make an impression. Not to be overtaken, guitarists Malcom Pugh and Sanjay Kumar showcase their axe mastery throughout. A majority of the tracks feature individual solos by each, and none of them overstay their welcome. If they aren’t competing in shredding territory, they work in tandem on solos in the remainder of the songs. Spencer Moore’s drums round out Inferi’s sound, and in a rare turn, they sound surprisingly natural for a tech death band. Perhaps the melodic aspect of Inferi’s core sound helps keep Moore’s drums from becoming robotic, and his playing spans core stylings, technical blowouts, and military marches, never staying in one space for too long.

Heaven Wept by Inferi

While Heaven Wept is by no means a stylistic change-up from their previous work, the latest record utilizes more dissonant harmonies and tends to feel more ethereal as a result. Combine that with some symphonic backing, and you have an atmospheric album without relying on overly long instrumental passages that break up the pacing. Inferi takes the melodic part of technical melodic death metal very seriously, and Heaven Wept is surprisingly catchy and approachable, while still being so dense that I imagine listeners will discover new secrets after numerous listens. “The Rapture of Dead Light” calls to mind melodic death metal masters The Black Dahlia Murder while combining some light core elements (don’t worry, Inferi is not a deathcore band now). The band smartly uses crushing breakdowns but only at a minimum, and where they have the most impact.

Heaven Wept doesn’t waste a second, coming in at eight tracks and under forty minutes, the album is pure face-melting goodness throughout. Every band member lays it all out on each song, and I wouldn’t call a single one a miss. The title track is a stylistic standout, slowing things down with a lumbering staccato riff that worms its way throughout the song. Boiser’s vocals follow along with the riff, punctuating the melody while also adding a bit of slam to Heaven Wept’s complex sound. “Of Rotted Wombs” is oozing with atmosphere, with a backing organ, a choir, and wailing guitars that pull emotion from every string. It is a track that feels huge without relying on a bunch of pomp and circumstance. Despite the inclusion of the aforementioned organ and choir, they are a small part of the song and only appear in the background. The incredible solo from Kumar in the back half of the track ties a bow on an album highlight.

Heaven Wept could very well be Inferi’s best work yet. Dripping with style and substance, as well as piling on the atmosphere without resorting to trite methods or wasteful interludes, this is an album that is solid throughout. It isn’t without its flaws; the low end is basically non-existent, and even the band plays live without a bassist. There are occasional bass flourishes on the album that remind me of Job for a Cowboy’s Sun Eater at times, but they are few and far between. The album also lacks the instrumental flair of 2018’s Revenant, and fans looking for a return to that record will be disappointed. Overall, these are nitpicks for an album that nails everything it sets out to do and then some. Inferi have shown that they can stand tall as the masters of modern technical melodic death metal without losing sight of what brought them there in the first place. Heaven Wept epitomizes the idea of metal at every turn and will likely have something to offer any earnest listener.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 4 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: The Artisan Era
Websites: Instagram | Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: April 10th, 2026

Finally, the new year is upon us! A fresh start for some, same shit different year for others; mainly, my minions who toil in the mines ducts of the Filter. Since they don’t get any holidays, they probably don’t even fucking know it’s 2026 yet, but that’s okay. As long as they come back to HQ with a substantial haul, their ability to know when it is is immaterial.

These are the sacrifices we (not me, though), make to ensure you get the goods relatively on time-ish. So say thank you!

Kenstrosity’s Freaky Foursome

Upiór // Forefathers’ Eve (Redemption) [January 2nd, 2026 – Self Released]

Featuring members of Gorod (Benoit Claus) and Xaoc (Kévin Paradis), Upiór pinged my radar after a certain cosmic Discordian pinged me. A blistering combination of Fleshgod Apocalypse opulence and Wachenfeldt aggression, sophomore release Forefathers’ Eve (Redemption) impressed me immediately as “The Black Paintings ripped my face right off. “A Blessing or a Curse” doubled down on speed, blasting rhythms, and eerie melodies to propel itself straight into my Song o’ the Year long-list. Even with three instrumental interludes, all of which are quite fluffy, Forefathers’ Eve (Redemption) crams pummeling riffs, exuberant percussion, and dramatic lushness into its 51-minute runtime. “Forefathers’ Eve (Part I),” a fantastic companion to Fleshgod Apocalypse’s “Cold As Perfection” without aping its features, conjures a similarly affecting character that draws me in completely. Forefathers’ Eve (Redemption)’s middle section continues to build personality and develop greater dynamics from that point, represented most clearly in melodic riffs and expressive leads/soloing (“The Woman that Weeps”). Leading into its conclusion, a tonal shift towards the dire at this junction foreshadows the imminent release of Upiór’s second act, Forefathers’ Eve (Damnation) (due in early April), charring songs like “Forefather’s Eve (Part II)” and “Between the Living and Dead” with blackened rabidity and dissonant flourishes. All of this to say, Upiór launched this latest arc with a striking blow, and I can only imagine what’s in store for Damnation.

Forefathers’ Eve (Redemption) by Upiór

KadavriK // Erde666 [January 9th, 2026 – Self Released]

Germany’s melodic death metal quintet KadavriK have been cranking out records since 2007, but I only heard about them this year, once again, thanks to Discord. Erde666, their fifth outing, takes an unorthodox and progressive approach to melodic death metal, which makes comparisons difficult to draw. Stripped down and raw in some moments, mystical and lush in others, Erde666 is all about textures. Its opening title track explores that spectrum of sounds and philosophies to its fullest, even drawing heavy influence from blues, psychedelia, and sludge at times (“Getrümmerfreund”), but it all coalesces seamlessly. Following up an opener as strong as that would be a tall order for anyone, but KadavriK are clever songwriters, and the long form served them well even compared to the more straightforward tracklists of previous installments (“Nihilist,” “Das Ende Des Anthropozäns”). Off-kilter guitar melodies countered against twinkling Kalmah synths and sweeping strings do a lot of work to elevate and liven the crushing chords of their high-impact riffs as well, which adds a ton of interest into an already unconventional melodic death record (“Widerhall”). All of this makes for a record that might not be as immediate or fast-paced as most aim for in this space, but, counterintuitively, significantly more memorable. Don’t sleep on this one, folks!

Erde 666 by KadavriK

Luminesce // Like Crushed Violets and Linen [November 20th, 2026 – Self Released]

Prolific at a scale I haven’t witnessed since Déhà, Luminesce mastermind Alice Simard, based in Québec, piqued my curiosity for the first time with Like Crushed Violets and Linen, her sophomore effort under the Luminesce moniker. Boasting machine-gun rapidity (“Exploited Monochromaticism”), off-kilter rhythms (“Silver”), and a downright romantic sense of melody (“Like Crushed Violets and Linen,” “Lamp of Fulguration”)—countered by lyrical themes ranging from guilt complexes to gender identity (“To Restore”)—Like Crushed Violets and Linen is a deeply personal record forged in a melodic technical death metal mold. And as such a record, it recalls the vicarious guitar pyrotechnics of Inferi and Obscura while securing a melodic sensibility more in line with neoclassical composition (“The Covenant of Counterfeit Stars”). Unlike many of her contemporaries, however, Alice is a master of editing. Filled with killer ideas and instrumental wizardry without involving a drop of bloat, each of these seven songs coalesce into a buttery-smooth 30-minute excursion that punches far above its feathery mass. The addition of delightful chiptune dalliances helps distinguish Luminesce further from the pack (“To Restore”), though I’m torn about how far forward they are in the mix. In fact, the mix is my main gripe, as Like Crushed Violets and Linen is muffled and a bit flat, despite boasting a much-appreciated meaty bass presence. Nonetheless, if you’re looking for an unlikely tech-death contender, Luminesce might be just what you need.

Like Crushed Violets and Linen by Luminesce

Bone Storm // Daemon Breed [January 30th, 2026 – Self Released]

As the CEO of this Filter company, I withhold the right to break the rules and include a very cool bonus fourth option, Bone Storm’s cavebrained Daemon Breed. Do you like Bolt Thrower? Yes, you do. Do you like Bear Mace? Yes, you do. By proxy, then, you already like Connecticut’s Bone Storm as they draw from the same chunky, groove-laden school of death metal. At a somewhat overachieving 50 minutes, Daemon Breed pummels the listener beneath a veritable smorgasbord of neck-breaking riffs built upon a framework of triplet grooves, swaggering syncopations, and galloping double bass assaults. Their approach is simple and unburdened by blistering speed, fiddly technicality, or atmospheric deviation, and in that way recalls the undeniable immediacy and brutal effectiveness of records like Black Royal’s Firebride. With highlights “Heaven’s End (Burn Them All),” “Plaguerider,” “Sanctimonious Morality,” and above all “Ritual Supremacy,” Bone Storm use that approach with aplomb, proving that the spirit of classic, no-frills death metal is vital and vicarious. Delightfully cogent roars and gutturals allow the most difficult deliveries (see “Daemon Breed”) to feel vicious and purposeful, while a subtle thread of melody (see “Cursed Born”) affords the record a small measure of songwriting variety to break things up just when Daemon Breed needs it most. Heavy reliance on triplets and perhaps a zealous desire to put down every idea that seems good even if it’s placed immediately adjacent to much better one (“Halo of Disease” and “Hammer of Judas” bookending “Ritual Supremacy” are tough positions to defend, as is “Wrist Slitter” next to the fun Frozen Soul-esque “Blood Priest”), hold it back from higher praise only mildly. Moral of the story? Enter the bone zone, with haste!

Daemon Breed by Bone Storm

Creeping Ivy’s Riffy Remainder

Lord Elephant // Ultra Soul [January 30th, 2026 – Heavy Psych Sounds]

Sometimes, you don’t need dynamic songwriting, harmonic density, or even a vocalist. Sometimes, all you need are riffs. Okay, and maybe some psychedelic leads to go over those riffs. Ultra Soul, the sophomore album from Italian instrumental trio Lord Elephant, delivers 48 minutes of pure, mostly unadulterated stoner-doom. In the feudal jungle of heavy riff rock, Lord Elephant pays scutage to King Buffalo, similarly forming longish compositions where simple, bluesy figures reign supreme, stretching their limbs in grassy patches. Occasionally, guitarist Leandro Gaccione, bassist Edoardo De Nardi, and drummer Tommaso Urzino lock into some lively, head-bobbing grooves (“Gigantia”). But mostly, Lord Elephant keeps things meditative, hypnotizing listeners with Earthless drones and lurches (“Smoke Tower,” “Black River Blues”). De Nardi’s bass often leads the way (“Electric Dunes”), the underwater tone of which reminds me of falling for Isis.1 Lord Elephant aren’t reinventing any wheels here; the familiarity of their bluesy riffing simply won’t interest those for whom such bluesiness is a staid marker of old-man rock. The absence of vocals, however, makes Ultra Soul work as pseudo-ambient music that can set the mood, or accompany tasks, or gateway a normie. Closer listening will reveal, though, a tight trio reveling in the rudiments of rock music—a drummer, bassist, and guitarist vibing on a riff.

Ultra Soul by Lord Elephant

Andy-War-Hall’s Salvaged Windfall

Juodvarnis // Tékmés [January 23rd, 2026 – Self Released]

Lithuania’s Juodvarnis cooked for a long six years between albums for their fourth record Tékmés. With the confidence and sharpness displayed on all levels by Juodvarnis here, that was clearly time well spent in the kitchen. Sporting a brand of progressive black metal that blends the Enslaved framework of prog-black with the epic heft and melody of Iotunn and the crushing rhythms and harsh vocals of Gojira, Tékmés is tight, lively and achieves a remarkable level of melancholic thoughtfulness without neglecting the average listener’s chronic need for riffs. Translated to “flow” from Hungarian,2 Tékmés navigates inter-song and album-wide progressions of pummeling rhythms (“Dvasios Ligos”) and slow marches (“Tamsiausias Nušvitimas”), impassioned clean vocals (“Platybės”) and razor-throated screams (“Juodos Akys”) to achieve a gradual, natural sense of advancement across its 42-minute journey. If progressive black metal that knows how to riff and can turn the reverb off 11 sounds like a good time to you, give Juodvarnis’ Tékmés a shot sometime.

Tékmés by Juodvarnis

Thus Spoke’s Obscure Offerings

Ectovoid // In Unreality’s Coffin [January 9th, 2026 – Everlasting Spew Records]

Normally, it takes copious amounts of reverb, wonkiness, melody, or turbo-dissonance for death metal to be palatable to me. Every once in a while, however, an album like Ectovoid’s In Unreality’s Coffin comes along and shows me that there is another way. The music’s stickiness has a lot to do with its boundary-straddling take on OSDM. Ostensibly, the battering, percussion, sawblade riffing, and gruff gurgling growls mark it as your everyday modern no-nonsense death metal, somewhere between Cryptopsy and Immolation. But In Unreality’s Coffin is more like tech-death, disso-death, and brutal-death in a trench coat than it is any one of them, or another subgenre.3 Its arpeggios can be rhythmically snappy, sometimes combined with equally sharp vocal delivery (“Intrusive Illusions (Echoes from a Distant Plane)”), but more often than not channel a churning chaos that resists punchiness for a darker unease I find addictive (“Collapsing Spiritual Nebula,” “Erroneous Birth”). The music is constantly speeding up or slowing down, churning guitars collapsing with slides (“Dissonance Corporeum”) or pitching upwards in squeals (“In Anguished Levitation”), or evolving into mania as screams and growls fragment and layer (“Formless Seeking Form”). Rather than being exhausting, it’s exhilarating, with expertly-timed releases of diabolically echoing melody (“Collapsing Spiritual Nebula”) or a new groove to latch onto (“In Unreality’s Coffin”) coming to keep you afloat. Ectovoid keep you guessing without actually really pushing the boundaries, making In Unreality’s Coffin both a lot of fun and straightforwardly br00tal enough to sustain a savage workout; or just a really intense 45 minutes.

In Unreality’s Coffin by Ectovoid

Exxûl // Sealed into None [January 15th, 2026 – Productions TSO]

Phil Tougas has had an impressive start to the year. Before Worm’s Necropalace this February, came Sealed into None, the debut by Exxûl—a genre-blending, kinda blackened epic-power-doom-heavy-metal group also comprising several of Phil’s Atramentus band-mates. Several people brought up this album in the comments on my Worm review, often to the tune of “Exxûl better,” and while I respectfully disagree on the quality ranking of the two, I can’t deny how fabulous Sealed into None is. Here again are genres of music I’m usually unable to connect with—in this instance, power and classical heavy metal—but shaped in a way that opens my eyes and ears. Yes, the high-pitched wail style of singing first took me a little off-guard when they first arose on “Blighted Deity,” and they offend my usual tastes. But they are impressive, and work in a way I thought only harsh vocals could when following the trajectory of distorted keys and guitar (“Walls of Endless Darkness”), or shouting into an atmospheric abyss (“The Screaming Tower”). Oh, and of course, the overall vibe of magnificent, melodramatic blackened doom that sets the scene, capped off with—predictably—phenomenal guitarwork, is just magic and enough for me to get past my knee-jerk vocal ick and love it not in spite of that, but because of what it can bring to the whole. I love the slow builds to dazzling solos (“Bells of the Exxûl through to “Blighted Deity,” “The Screaming Tower”) and the way the camper, heavy-metal sides blur into something darker (“Labyrinthine Fate”). I just love this album, to be honest.

Sealed Into None by Exxûl

ClarkKent’s Canadian Catch

Turpitude // Mordoré [January 1, 2026 – Self Released]

Since 2019, Alice Simard has been a prolific presence in Quebec’s underground metal scene. She consistently releases albums for several different projects, from the ambient atmoblack of Coffret de Bijoux to the tech death of Luminesce (also uncovered in this month’s Filter by our Sponge Fren). Mordoré, the fourth full-length for Turpitude, thrives on its riffs and carries a cheerful energy reminiscent of the carefree raw black metal of Grime Stone Records stalwarts Wizard Keep and Old Nick. Yet Simard opts for traditional instruments, no synths, though production choices make the drumsticks sound as if they’re banging against blocks of wood, give the guitars a lofi reverb, and cause Simard’s voice to fade into the background in a cavernous growl. The riffs are the real star, with some terrifically catchy melodic leads and trems throughout (“La Traverse Mordorée,” “Aller de L’avant”). This combination of riffs, a raw sound, and often upbeat tunes draws comparison to Trhä and To Escape. While Mordoré keeps a mostly cheery tone, Turpitude’s no one-trick pony. There’s a tinge of the melancholic on the moody, atmospheric “Peintra,” as well as a successful stab at covering a non-metal song a lá Spider God on “Washing Machine Heart.”4 This is a worthwhile endeavor for those who like their black metal raw and energetic.

Mordoré by Turpitude

Grin Reaper’s Heavy Haul

Valiant Sentinel // Neverealm [January 16th, 2026 – Theogonia Records]

Greek heavy metal heroes Valiant Sentinel dropped their sophomore platter Neverealm back in mid-January, unleashing forty-six minutes that reek of high fantasy. Galloping riffs, driving drums, and vocal harmonies aplenty supply a cinematic adventure that basks in fun. While the pacing of Neverealm mainly operates in high-energy bombast, Valiant Sentinel smartly weaves in mid-paced might, evidenced by how the controlled assault of “Mirkwood Forest” provides a breather after opening chest-thumpers “War in Heaven” and “Neverealm.” Acoustic pieces “To Mend the Ring” and “Come What May” further diversify Neverealm’s heavy metal holdings, and while I’m usually keener on more aggressive numbers, these two tracks comprise some of my favorite moments on the album.5 Mostly, Valiant Sentinel summons comparisons to Germany’s heavy/power scene—chief among them Blind Guardian—going so far as to bring in BG drummer extraordinaire Frederik Ehmke. I also catch fleeting glimpses of Brainstorm and Mystic Prophecy in Valiant Sentinel’s DNA, though guitarist and composer Dimitris Skodras does a commendable job carving out a distinct identity for the band. Featuring skilled performances across the board and guest spots from Burning Witches’ Laura Guldemond (“Neverealm”) and Savatage’s Zak Stevens (“Arch Nemesis”), Valiant Sentinel packs loads of drama into a streamlined package. So what are you waiting for? Go grab your polyhedrals and a Spelljammer, and set sail for Neverealm.

Neverealm by Valiant Sentinel

Fili Bibiano’s Fortress // Death Is Your Master [January 30th, 2026 – High Roller Records]

Does Shredphobia keep you away from metal? Does the sultry siren call of licks, riffs, and chugs make you break into a cold sweat? If so, I strongly urge you to stay away from Fortress’ sophomore album, Death Is Your Master. Channeling Tony Martin-era Black Sabbath and 80s Judas Priest, Fortress drops six-string shenanigans that’ll get your booty shaking and the floor quaking, offering a romping retro slab that goes down slow ‘n’ easy. The overt classic 80s heavy metal worship on tracks “Flesh and Dagger” and “Night City” delivers riff after riff recalling the glory days, giving Fortress an authenticity that expands what could have otherwise been a one-dimensional LP. Guitarist Fili Bibiano sizzles with axe-slinging abandon, occasionally conjuring the neoclassical debauchery of Yngwie (“Savage Sword,” “Maze”). Still, it’s not all about the guitar, and drummer Joey Mancaruso and vocalist Juan Aguila nail their contributions as Fortress wends their way through a trim thirty-four minutes. On a guitar-forward album featuring slick songwriting and singalong jams, Death Is Your Master bumps, dives, and wails in a slow-burn frenzy of classic heavy goodness. Dig in!

Death Is Your Master by Fili Bibiano’s Fortress

Baguette’s Brutal Burglary

Skulld // Abyss Calls to Abyss [January 23rd, 2026 – Time to Kill Records]

While last year was alright for death metal and notably starred Dormant Ordeal, I felt it was lacking in quantity of impressive releases for said cornerstone of the metal underground. Fortunately, Italian group Skulld is here to start off the year with a bang! Abyss Calls to Abyss takes Bolt Thrower’s tank-rolling grooves (“Mother Death”) and Dismember’s melodic buzzsaw action (“Wear the Night as a Velvet Cloak”) and adds in some crust punk influence as extra seasoning (“Le Diable and the Snake”). It feels like they’ve taken some influence from both Finnish and Swedish varieties of death metal as well, and I’m here for it! The band is fluent in switching things up at the drop of a hat without sacrificing energy or cohesion. “Mother Death” and “Drops of Sorrow” go from heavy, dissonant chords to big lead guitar melodies, which in turn lead to a chunky and punky death metal groove that’s bound to get your head moving. Teo’s drumming controls the mood in excellent fashion, adding fast blast beats or slow-pummelling stomps when called for. The vicious, varied growls of Pam further cement the violence contained within and add to the album’s attitude. At a brief 34 minutes spread over eight songs, it wastes no time going for your throat in a multitude of ways. Get this album into your skull or get Skulld!

Abyss Call To Abyss by Skulld

Total Annihilation // Mountains of Madness [January 16th, 2026 – Testimony Records]

What would happen if you took Vader, Slayer and Sodom and threw them in a big ol’ manic death/thrash blender? The answer is Mountains of Madness! While Swiss Total Annihilation’s earliest works were more in line with classic ’80s thrash metal, they have increasingly moved towards more aggressive and relentless pastures, and their songwriting is all the better for it. Fourth album Mountains of Madness channels records like Vader’s Litany and Sodom’s Tapping the Vein in particular (“The Art of Torture,” “Age of Mental Suicide”), taking advantage of a relentless, drum-forward groove and a furious vocal performance. The album’s dual guitar attack weaves together thrashier tunes with parts that reach straight up Swedeath territory, be it melodic or not. In addition, tracks like “Mountains of Madness” and “Choose the Day” throw some melodic thrash akin to Sodom’s self-titled album into the mix for that extra bit of variety and replay value. Mountains of Madness isn’t afraid to slow things down with a satisfying lead riff, but most of Mountains of Madness is at a respectful lightning-fast pace, as thrash should. Another brief but powerful addition to the January pile ov skulls!

Mountains Of Madness by Total Annihilation

Polaris Experience // Drifting Through Voids [January 2nd, 2026 – Distant Comet Entertainment]

On the earliest days of the year, Japan delivered an awesome surprise drop of death metal-influenced progressive thrash! Polaris Experience features various Cynical riffs (“Interplanetary Funambulist,” “Bathyscapes”) while sporting a similarly old-school guitar tone throughout. Being progressive thrash, the main focus is naturally on the oh-so-sweet instrumentation that balances melody and groove seamlessly. The instrumental “Parvati” alone highlights how tight everything is, from the snappy drumming to the bouncy bass work. Most importantly, the music is catchy and memorable despite its relative complexity and lack of brevity. Additionally, Drifting Through Voids uses vocals sparingly but in all the right ways, complementing its technicalities with a traditional thrashy, harsh bark. The fact that it’s a two-man project and a debut makes it all the more impressive. Fans of similar recent progressive and technical shenanigans like Species should take notes post-haste. Considering we’ve already had this and Cryptic Shift this early in the year, and how prog/tech thrash is usually only allowed one or two notable albums per year, we could be in for a banner year for the subgenre. It also marks the first time in ages that a Japanese album has genuinely good production. Welcome to the new millennium!

Drifting Through Voids by Polaris Experience

SUFFOCATION (Estats Units) presenta nou Boxed set: "Jesus Wept - The Roadrunner Years" #Suffocation #Brutal #TechnicalDeathMetal #Febrer2026 #EstatsUnits #NouBoxedSet #Metall #Metal #MúsicaMetal #MetalMusic

SUFFOCATION (Estats Units) presenta nou Boxed set: "Jesus Wept - The Roadrunner Years" #Suffocation #Brutal #TechnicalDeathMetal #Febrer2026 #EstatsUnits #NouBoxedSet #Metall #Metal #MúsicaMetal #MetalMusic

With the same swirling whammy lick opening “Moonbelt Immolator” gracing the opening minute of “Cryogenically Frozen,” Cryptic Shift have returned. Visitations from Enceladus was a monolithic record that rocked my world in 2020, taking me to the most vile reaches of the universe in a technical death/thrash expedition of cosmic horror. Six years later, the group from Leeds, UK aim to expand on their already expansive debut regarding both their sci-fi theming and musicality with their sophomore. They didn’t skimp out on us either: Overspace & Supertime is one track greater than Visitations and nearly twice as long, boasting two twenty-plus-minute epics.1 A feature film’s runtime of borderline avant-garde extreme metal is no small feat, but if designed and shaped with singular vision, patience and skill, then anything can happen. And in the strange aeons Cryptic Shift occupy, anything happens all the time.

An undertaking like Overspace & Supertime demands top-notch performances to survive: Cryptic Shift couldn’t have done much better. Keeping true to the mix of Atheistic death, Vektorian thrash, and King Crimsonian progressive sensibilities that made the debut a knockout, Cryptic Shift have opened another wormhole of technical death/thrash immensity. But if you’re imagining Visitations II: Eldritch Boogaloo, stop. Overspace takes what made Visitations great and kicks it into warp speed. The guitar duo of Xander Bradley and Joss Farrington (Cryptworm)2 tear through an embarrassment of mind-bending, neck-breaking riffs across Overspace, bending across their whole fretboards, soloing on “Stratocumulus Evergaol” and putting their entire asses behind the chugged-up “Hyperspace Topography.” Drummer Ryan Sheperson pummels his kit in time I can only guess at on “Overspace & Supertime” while bassist John Riley fretlessly glides over “Cryogenically Frozen” into solos traded off between the guitars, amounting to a finessed, yet relentless attack. Topped off with Bradley’s cavernous bellows, Overspace & Supertime is a tour de force of musical expertise.

Overspace & Supertime by Cryptic Shift

What carries Cryptic Shift’s longform songwriting is that their music is always in flux. Whenever the band seems lost in their own prog-sauce—like in the effect-heavy openings of “Hexagonal Eyes (Diverity Trepaphymphasyzm)” and “Cryogenically Frozen”—they always swing back with a bruiser riff that helps keep Overspace more approachable than it ought to be. Like on Visitations, Cryptic Shift employ clean guitar passages and eerie atmospheres to outline the heavy bits. But on Overspace, they are woven smoothly into the distorted parts to create dynamic passages, like the shimmering clean strums between monstrous death hits on “Stratocumulus Evergaol” or the blackened surf-rock tremolos of “Hyperspace Topography.” But Cryptic Shift’s greatest dynamic on Overspace is that of light vs. dark. While their debut was a pitch-black exploration of space-born horrors, Overspace injects a healthy dosage of awe into their mix, including strangely bright conclusions to “Cryogenically Frozen” and “Overspace & Supertime” and a passage at ~16 minutes into “Stratocumulus Evergaol” that’s so boppy that it could pass for Rise Against. It’s in the name: Cryptic Shift change in some strange ways over the course of Overspace & Supertime, and I’m here for it.

And this leads me to the true wonder of Overspace & Supertime and where its immensity is most benefited: the beauty of the off-kilter. This is an album of purely aggressive, dissonant, esoteric, and oddly-timed stuff; Cryptic Shift made no obvious move, and they’re clearly not gunning for radio play. So why is it so beautiful? Solos that effortlessly slide from Slayer-like chromatic bullshittery into soaring melodicism. Patient ambiances both tranquil and unsettling, belligerent thrashing as exhilarating as it is hostile. The brilliant production best described by Dolphin Whisperer as “tone porn,” where all cleans are crystalline, and everything dirty is disgusting. How easy it is to fall under Cryptic Shift’s spell and let the freeform journey take you on its many twists and turns. The fact that Overspace & Supertime gets weird and takes its precious time doing so allows the listener to immerse themselves in Cryptic Shift’s world, making for a simply sublime experience.

In retrospect, Visitations from Enceladus feels like Cryptic Shift’s proof-of-concept for Overspace & Supertime. Yes, this is an exhausting record. Trying to catch everything on it during your first listen could make you go blind. Maybe 80 minutes is too damn long. But Overspace & Supertime is a better record than my wildest expectations, six years in the making, ever dreamed up. Like Frank Zappa at his best, Cryptic Shift on Overspace left me frequently confused, sometimes just plain tickled, but never unmoved before their showcase of the bizarre and the otherwordly. In the stranger aeons Cryptic Shift occupy, anything has happened.

Rating: Excellent
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps MP3
Label: Metal Blade Records
Websites: cryptic-shift.bandcamp | facebook.com/crypticshift
Releases Worldwide: February 27, 2026

Self-releasing an album is a monumental effort. Between production, distribution, artwork, press, yadda yadda yadda, the logistical weight quickly consumes vast amounts of time, money and energy. And that’s before you factor in the arduous task of creating music that’s actually fucking good. Indeed, for a young band, initial encounters are everything, which means it behooves one to ensure everything is as polished and professional as possible. Desoration understands this.1 The Christchurch, New Zealand five-piece submitted their debut album, NON, via AMG’s contact form, catching my eye with their professional-grade press kit. Since their 2020 formation, the group has been refining their identity, with 2024’s Apotechnosis EP introducing Desoration’s techy blend of melodic death metal. NON aims to take this to a new level, weaving symphonic textures into their deathly foundation alongside a narrative that charts a protagonist’s descent from modern despair into an otherworldly transformation, culminating in their emergence as a “nemessiah” who brings about the total annihilation of the corporeal plane.2 Will NON’s ambition be a non-starter? Or will it be a non-negotiable addition to your playlist?

Puns aside, NON frequently oscillates between melodic death and symphonic black metal. Tracks like “Corporealisation Threshold,” “Deadened and Scarified” and “Excoriating Reality” channel the guitar-forward spirit of Omnium Gatherum or Mors Principium Est, while others are forged in the cold 90s-era symphonic black mold of yore (“Black Dawn,” “The Befouled Ziggurat of Non”). Desoration even finds room to pepper in the punchy, rhythmic grooves of Lamb of God (“Beyond the Veil of Sleep”) or the operatic brutality of Fleshgod Apocalypse (“Singularity Ritual,” “Interitus the Herald of Ruin”). Regardless of NON’s stylistic lean, Desoration fortifies every note with pinpoint accuracy, as high-velocity picking, assaulting blasts and syncopated chugging underpin dramatic synchestral flourishes. The orchestral arrangements act as NON’s nexus, fueling the record’s kinetic energy with both urgency and dramatic intensity. Though Desoration’s sound doesn’t break new ground, the formula works as a whole, relying on instrumental prowess to keep the listener locked in.

NON by Desoration

Great albums live or die by their songwriting, and the writing on NON is solid. “Singularity Ritual,” “Those Who Dwell in Darkness” and “Interitus the Herald of Ruin” thrive on sharp hooks, cavalry-charge gallops and solos brimming with bright, sweeping scales that put Desoration’s talent on full display. “Corporealisation Threshold,” in particular, reaches its zenith during a synchronized closing battery of percussive riffing and double-kick work. It’s a necessary jolt of energy that arrives just in time, delivering the adrenaline spike I found myself chasing through the preceding tracks. While the writing isn’t perfectly consistent across all eleven songs—”Beyond the Veil of Sleep,” for instance, lacks hooks and “Black Dawn” is far too long—NON overcomes these lulls through Desoration’s sheer talent and an obvious command of the melodic death sound.

Favoring a synthetic sheen, NON’s main weakness is its production. While a sterilized production style is a common aesthetic that many bands seemingly adopt for convenience, here it results in an overly digitized sound that quickly becomes tiresome. In fact, I spent my entire time with NON craving the dynamics Desoration abandoned in the editing room. Aean Campbell’s vocals are adept and hit all the standard death beats, but they sit so far forward in the mix that they drown out much of the instrumental nuance, particularly the guitars. The biggest tragedy, however, is the drums. Bennett Jones’ performance itself is stellar, but the tones are a disaster. The toms sound thin, and the cymbals are a wash of static. It honestly sounds like they plugged in a Roland electronic kit, hit “record” and called it a day. It’s a shame that low-effort tones bury such high-level playing. I understand the necessity of working within tight constraints to achieve a pro sound on an indie budget, but production this over-processed takes a toll on my feathery ears.

Desoration is a young act that radiates promise and NON proves these Kiwis possess the pedigree to compete globally. It’s frustrating that the production prevents the album from reaching its full potential. However, if you can look past this blemish, you’ll find a good melodic death record with solid songwriting and impressive performances full of symphonic carnage. NON firmly establishes Desoration as a group to watch.

Rating: Good
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: PCM
Label: Self-Released
Websites: desoration.bandcamp.com | desoration.com | facebook.com/desorationmetal
Releases Worldwide: February 6th, 2026

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

Carrion Vael has cultivated an admirably consistent release schedule since dropping Resurrection of the Doomed in 2017. After unleashing follow-up God Killer in 2020, the Richmond, Indiana quintet has delivered big, veiny doses of muscular, technical melodeath every other year. Slay Utterly is Carrion Vael’s fifth load of unfettered aggression, slinging riffs that sparkle and crush in whiplashing frenzies. Though not explicitly billed as a concept album, Slay Utterly delves into tales morbid and macabre. Each track describes a different serial killer, with songs exploring the perspectives of both killers and their victims. It’s a brutal conceit, and with it Carrion Vael bum-rushes into 2026 with ambitions of aural beatdowns that’ll leave your ears bleeding. With five albums in fewer than ten years, does Carrion Vael have the stamina to keep slaying, or would they benefit from more premeditation?

Looking back over the last three albums, Carrion Vael strikes me as a band trying out different personas. Abhorrent Obsessions revels in technicality, reminding me of Exocrine and Psycroptic, while Cannibals Anonymous dabbles with deathcore along with adding a hearty helping of clean vocals. Overall, Carrion Vael embodies the violent onslaught of The Black Dahlia Murder and merges it with the melodic agility of Allegaeon, crafting an influence-laced affair with staunch sonic keystones. The clean and harsh vocal trade-offs throughout Slay Utterly serve as a clever nod to the killer/victim subject matter, expanding on the melodic phrasing from Cannibals. Meanwhile, understated orchestrations occasionally sneak in, unlocking an intricate audio arena that ranges from bludgeoning to grandiose and bracing Carrion Vael for their next evolution.

Slay Utterly by Carrion Vael

Carrion Vael scintillates with battering virtuosity on Slay Utterly, continuing both the technical guile from Abhorrent Obsessions and the savage euphony of Cannibals Anonymous. Guitarists Trenton Limburg and Ryan Kurder strut up and down the fretboard like cocks of the walk, ejecting molten melodies and solos with wicked exuberance. “Truth or Consequences” features choice six-string moments, opening with a stripped-back, Spanish-style acoustic jaunt and unleashing a nifty harmonized solo towards the end. In the meantime, human metronome Matt Boehner bashes his kit to smithereens, rarely relenting in his unyielding kicks and bionically smooth fills. On the vocal front, Travis Lawson Purcell roars, croons, and bellows in an inspired exhibition of versatility, with “1912” demonstrating his strong cleans as well as rapid-fire stylings that recall Archspire. Throughout, subtle swells of strings (“19(fucking)78”, “Black Chariot”) expand on a burgeoning dimension of Carrion Vael’s already overflowing arsenal.

Despite Carrion Vael doing so much right, a few weak links undercut what Slay Utterly could be. Given the complex layers populating this lush soundscape, it craves room to breathe. Instead, Slay Utterly nearly asphyxiates for lack of dynamic range, with Alex Arford’s bass the most immediate casualty in the loudness war.1 Listening in my car or through my computer speakers dampens the experience because of how crushed everything sounds, which I loathe because of the fabulous passion present. My headphones present an improved experience, but not by much. Influences also restrict Carrion Vael’s identity, where some tracks sound like mashups of other bands rather than an original, cohesive personality. While “40 Echoes upon the Parlor” separates itself by dexterously blending hyper-speed guitars, harsh and clean vocals, and supporting orchestrations, adopting this modality across all tracks would further buoy Slay Utterly. Lastly, I wish there were more obvious musical cues that coincided with the album’s theme. I listened to it ten times before I read the promo blurb about serial killers and their victims, but even knowing that, nothing stands out to connect the songs with their inspirations. Leaning into the concept more would have helped the album attain loftier heights.

Ultimately, Slay Utterly leaves me torn of heart and eardrum. Carrion Vael delivers a fun album that I would revisit more if the production leaned toward organic and rich rather than bricked and over-compressed. Despite that, these Hoosiers have constructed a burly forty-two minutes that sizzle with enough slick riffcraft to justify at least one spin. Knowing what aural atrocities Carrion Vael is capable of committing, I hope their next platter saunters in with a better production and more hooks to kill.

Rating: Good
DR: 4 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Unique Leader Records
Websites: Bandcamp23 | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: January 16th, 2026

Stuck in the Filter: August 2025’s Angry Misses

By Kenstrosity

The heat persists, but now the humidity comes in full force as storm systems wreak havoc upon the coasts. I hide in my cramped closet of an office, lest I be washed out once again by an unsuspecting deluge. However, I still send my minions out into the facility, bound by duty to search for those metallic scraps on which we feast.

Fortuitously, most all of those imps I sent out came back alive, and with wares! BEHOLD!

Kenstrosity’s Galactic Gremlin

Silent Millenia // Celestial Twilight: Beyond the Crimson Veil [August 26th, 2025 – Self-Release]

Have you ever seen such a delightfully cheesy cover? Probably, but it’s been a while for me. I bought Celestial Twilight: Beyond the Crimson Veil, the second raw symphonic black metal opus from Finnish one-man act Silent Millenia, on the strength of the artwork alone. Little did I know that what lay beyond this crimson veil was some of the most fun melodic black metal this side of Moonlight Sorcery. The same low-fi roughness that personifies Old Nick’s work grounds Silent Millenia’s starbound songwriting as it traverses the universe with an energetic punch reminiscent of Emperor or Stormkeep (“Awaken the Celestial Spell,” “Daemonic Mastery”). To help differentiate Silent Millenia’s sound from that of their peers, a gothic atmosphere ensorcells much of this material to great effect, merging eerie Victorian melodies with galactic adventurism in an unlikely pair (“Enthrone the Spectral”). Swirling synths and sparkling twinkles abound as well, creating blissful moments of interest as frosty tremolos and piercing blasts take full advantage of the false sense of security those entrancing clouds of synthetic instrumentation create (“Benighted Path to Darkness Mysterium,” “Reign in Cosmic Majesty”). Simply put, Celestial Twilight is an unexpected gem of a symphonic black metal record, bursting with killer ideas and infinite levels of raw, unabashed fun. You should hear it!

Kronos’ Unexpected Unearthments

Street Sects // Dry Drunk [August 15th, 2025 – Self Release]

Dry Drunk sticks to your inner surfaces, draining down like cigarette tar along paralyzed cilia to pool in your lungs until the cells themselves foment rebellion. Once it’s in you, you feel paranoid, wretched, and alone. So it’s the proper follow-up to Street Sects’ visionary debut, End Position. Like that record, Dry Drunk plumbs the most mundane and unsavory gutters of America for a cast of protagonists that it dwells in or dispatches with a mixture of pity and disgust, with vocalist Leo Ashline narrating their violent crimes and self-hatred in a mixture of croons, shrieks, and snarls that cook the air before the speakers into the scent of booze and rotten teeth. And like that record, Shaun Ringsmuth (Glassing) dresses the sets with a fractal litter of snaps, squeals, crashes, gunshots, and grinding electronics, caked in tar and collapsing just as soon as it is swept into a structure. And like End Position, Dry Drunk is a masterpiece. The impeccable six-song stretch from “Love Makes You Fat” through “Riding the Clock” ties you to the bumper and drags you along some of the duo’s most creative side-roads, through the simmering, straightjacketed sludge of “Baker Act” to the chopped-up, smirking electronica of “Eject Button.” Swerving between addled, unintelligible agony and unforgettable anthems, Dry Drunk, like End Position before it is nothing less than the life of a junkie scraped together, heated on a spoon, and injected into your head. Once you’ve taken a hit, you will never be quite the same.

Thus Spoke’s Frightening Fragments

Defacement // Doomed [August 22nd, 2025 – Self Release]

There’s music for every vibe.1 The one Defacement fits is an exclusively extreme metal flavor of moody that is only appreciable by genre fans, made tangibly more eerie by their persistent idiosyncratic use of dark ambient interludes amidst the viciously distorted blackened death. Audiences—and reviewers—tend to disparage these electronic segments, but I’ve always felt their crackling presence increases the analog horror of it all, and rather than being a breather from the intensity, they prolong the nausea, the sense of emptiness, and the abject fearfulness of head-based trauma. This latter concept grows more metaphorical still on Doomed, where the violence is inside the mind, purpose-erasing, and emotionally-detaching. The ambience might be the most sadly beautiful so far (“Mournful,” and “Clouded” especially), and the transitions into nightmarish heaviness arguably the most fluid. And the metal is undoubtedly the most ambitious, dynamic, and magnificent of Defacement’s career, combining their most gruesome dissonance (“Portrait”) with their most bizarrely exuberant guitar melodies (“Unexplainable,” “Unrecognised”). Solos drip tangibly with (emotional) resonance (“Unexplainable,” “Absent”) and there’s not a breath or a moment of wasted space. Yes, the band’s heavier side can suffer from a nagging sense of homogeneous mass, but it remains transporting. While I can appreciate why others do not appreciate Defacement, this is the first of their outings I can truthfully say mesmerised me on first listen.

ClarkKent’s Heated Hymns

Phantom Fire // Phantom Fire [August 8th, 2025 – Edged Circle Productions]

While I waded through the murky depths of the August promo sump, Steel implored me to take the eponymous third album from Phantom Fire. “The AMG commentariat love blackened heavy metal,” he said. I disregarded his advice at my peril, and while I ended up enjoying what I grabbed, it turns out this would have been solid too. Featuring members from Enslaved, Kraków. Hellbutcher, and Aeternus, Phantom Fire play old school speed metal that harks back to the likes of Motörhead and Iron Maiden’s Killers. Thanks to healthy doses of bass and production values that allow the instruments to shine, each song is infused with energetic grooves. The music sounds fresh, crisp, and clear, from the booming drums to Eld’s “blackened” snarls. Early tracks “Eternal Void” and “All For None” show off the catchy blend of simple guitar riffs and a hoppin’ bass accompanied by energetic kit work. While placing a somewhat lengthy instrumental track in the middle of a record usually slows it down, “Fatal Attraction” turns out to be a highlight. It tells a tragic love story involving a motorcycle with nothing but instruments, an engine revving, and some police sirens. The second half of Phantom Fire gets a bit on the weirder side, turning to some stoner and psychedelia. There’s a push and pull between the stoner and Motörhead speed stuff on songs like “Malphas” and “Submersible Pt. 2,” and this blend actually works pretty well. It turns out that they aren’t phantom after all—these guys are truly fire.

Burning Witches // Inquisition [August 22nd, 2025 – Napalm Records]

With six albums in eight years, Swiss quintet Burning Witches has really been burning rubber. While such prolific output in such a short time frame generally spells trouble, Inquisition is a solid piece of heavy/power metal. Burning Witches dabbles in a mix of speedy power metal and mid-tempo heavy metal, often sounding like ’80s stalwarts Judas Priest and Def Leppard. With Laura Guldemond’s gruff voice, they produce a more weighty, less happy version of power metal than the likes of Fellowship or Frozen Crown. While the songs stick to formulaic structures, tempo shifts from song to song help keep things from growing stale. We see this variety right from the get-go, where “Soul Eater” takes a high-energy approach before moving into the more mellow “Shame.” There’s even a pretty solid ballad, “Release Me,” that grounds the back half of the record. Songs of the sort that Burning Witches write need catchy choruses, and fortunately, they deliver. “High Priestess of the Night” is a particular standout, delivering a knock-out punch in its delivery. It helps that the instrumental parts are well-executed, from crunchy riffs to subdued solos to booming blast beats. Anyone looking for a solid bit of power metal that’s not too heavy on the cheese will find this worth a listen.

Deathhammer // Crimson Dawn [August 29th, 2025 – Hells Headbangers Records]

Celebrating 20 years of blackened speed, Deathhammer drop LP number six with the kind of energy that exhausted parents dread to see in their children at bedtime. This is my first foray with the band, and I am in awe of the relentless level of manic energy they keep throughout Crimson Dawn’s 39 minutes. If science could learn how to harness their energy, we’d have an endless source of renewables. The two-piece out of Norway channels classic Slayer on crack and even has moments reminiscent of Painkiller-era Judas Priest. They play non-stop thrash cranked to 11, with persistent blast beats and some dual guitar parts that leave your head spinning from the rapid-fire directions the riffs fire off in. The heart of the mania is singer Sergeant Salsten. His crazed vocals are amazing—snarling, shouting, and shrieking in a way that took me back to the manic pitch Judge Doom could reach in Who Framed Roger Rabbit? He sings so fast that on the chorus of “Crimson Dawn,” it sounds like he says “Griffindor,” which had me searching confusedly for the Harry Potter tag. This was probably my favorite song, not just because of the Griffindor thing, but because that chorus is so catchy. Either way, it’s tough to pick a standout track because they all grip you by the throat and don’t let go. Crimson Dawn is a ton of fun and a must listen if you like your music fast.

Grin Reaper’s Bountiful Blight

Kallias // Digital Plague [August 14th, 2025 – Self Release]

Machine gun drumming, spacey synths, Morbid Angel-meets-Meshuggah riffing, Turian-esque barking and Voyager-reminiscent vocal melodies…what the fuck is going on here? The only thing more surprising than someone having the moxie to blend all these things together is how well they work in concert. Kallias doesn’t hold back on sophomore album Digital Plague, and the result is a rocket-fueled blast through forty-four minutes of eclectic, addictive prog. The mishmash of styles keeps the album fresh and unpredictable while never dipping its toes in inconsistent waters, and staccato rhythms propel listeners through eight tracks without losing steam. As with any prog metal worth its salt, Kallias brandishes technical prowess, and their cohesion belies the relatively short time they’ve been putting out music.2 The mix is well-suited to spotlight whoever needs it at a given time, whether the bass is purring (“Exogíini Kyriarchía”), the drums are being annihilated (“Pyrrhic Victory”), or a guitar solo nears Pettrucian wankery (“Phenomenal in Theory”). The end result is three-quarters of an hour filled with myriad influences that fuse into a sound all Kallias’s own, and it’s one I’ve returned to several times since discovering (also, credit to MontDoom for his stunning artwork, which helped initially draw my attention). Check it out—you’ll be sick if you avoid this one like the Plague.

Luke’s Kaleidoscopic Kicks

Giant Haze // Cosmic Mother [August 22nd, 2025 – Tonzonen Records]

Whereas many of my colleagues are bracing themselves for cooler conditions and harsh winters to come, in my neck of the woods, things are warming up. While my own wintry August filter proved scarce, there was one particular summery gem to lift moods with burly riffs and fat stoner grooves. Unheralded German act Giant Haze seemingly emerged out of nowhere during a random Bandcamp deep dive. Debut LP Cosmic Mother channels the good old days of ’90s-inspired desert rock, featuring grungy, doomy vibes via a groovy batch of riff-centric, hard-rocking and uplifting jams, evoking the nostalgic spirit of Kyuss, Fu Manchu, Clutch and perhaps even a dash of Danzig. Punching out raucous, groove-soaked hard rockers with skyscraping hooks (“Geographic Gardens Suck,” “King of Tomorrow,” “Panic to Ride”), summery, funk–psych jams (“Sunrise”), and bluesy, punk-infused fireballs (“Crank in Public,” “Shrink Age”) Giant Haze get a lot of things right on this assured debut. The songwriting is deceptively diverse and punchy, bolstered by solid production, tight musicianship, and the swaggering, ever so slightly goofy vocal charms and powerful hooks of frontman Christoph Wollmann. Inevitably, a few rough spots appear, but overall Cosmic Mother showcases oodles of budding potential, an impactful delivery, cheeky sense of humor, and infectious, feel-good songcraft.

Spicie Forrest’s Foraged Fruit

Bask // The Turning [August 22nd, 2025 – Season of Mist]

Last seen in 2019, Bask returns with fourth LP, The Turning, a concept album following The Rider as she and The Traveler traverse the stars. They still peddle the unique blend of stoner rock and Americana Kenstrosity reviewed favorably in 2019, but 2025 sees them looking up for inspiration. The Turning incorporates a distinct cosmic bent (“The Traveler,” “The Turning”) and post-rock structures (“Dig My Heels,” “Unwound”). These augmentations to Bask’s core sound are enhanced by the masterful pedal steel of new official member Jed Willis. Whether floating through the firmament or tilling earthly pastures, Willis creates textures both fresh and intensely nostalgic. The infinite shifting vistas of The Turning’s front half coalesce into singular timeless visions on the back half, supporting its conceptual nature in both content and form. Like a combination of Huntsmen and Somali Yacht Club, Bask weaves riffs and melodies heard across the plains and through the void above with an unguarded authenticity felt in your soul.

Dolphin Whisperer’s Disseminating Discharge

Plasmodulated // An Ocean ov Putrid, Stinky, Vile, Disgusting Hell [August 1st, 2025 – Personal Records]

Stinky, sticky, slimy—all adjectives that define the ideal death metal platter. Myk Colby has been trying to chase this perfect balance in a reverb-wonky package with projects like the d-beaten Hot Graves and extra hazy Wharflurch, but vile death metal balance is hard to achieve. However, An Ocean ov Putrid, Stinky, Vile, Disgusting Hell contains a recklessly pinched Demilichian riffage, classic piercing whammy bombs, and spook-minded synth ambience that places Plasmodulated with an odor more pungent than its peers. With an infected ear that festers equally with doom-loaded, Incantation-indebted drags (“Gelatinous Mutation ov Brewed Origin,” “Trapped in the Plasmovoid”) and Voivod-on-jenkem cutaways to foul-throated extravagence (“The Final Fuckening”). An air of intelligent tempo design keeps An Ocean from never feeling trapped in a maze of its own fumes, with Colby’s lush and bubbling synth design seguing tumbles into hammering deathly tremolo runs (“Such Rapid Sphacelation”) and Celtic Frosted riff tumbles (“Drowning in Sputum”) alike, all before swirling about his own tattered, trailing vocal sputters. Steady but slippery, elegant yet effluvial, An Ocean ov Putrid, Stinky, Vile, Disgusting Hell provides the necessary noxious pressure to corrode death metal-loving denizens into pure gloops of stained-denim pit worship. Delivered as labeled, Plasmodulated earns its hazardous declaration. We here at AMG are not liable for any OSHA violations that occur as a result of Plasmodulated consumption on the job, though.

#2025 #Aeternus #AmericanMetal #Americana #AnOceanOvPutridStinkyVileDisgustingHell #Aug25 #Bask #BlackMetal #BlackenedDeathMetal #BurningWitches #CelestialTwilightBeyondTheCrimsonVeil #CelticFrost #Clutch #CosmicMother #CrimsonDawn #Danzig #DarkAmbient #DeathMetal #Deathhammer #DefLeppard #Defacement #Demilich #DigitalPlague #Doomed #DryDrunk #DutchMetal #EdgedCircleProductions #Emperor #Enslaved #Fellship #FinnishMetal #FrozenCrown #FuManchu #GermanMetal #GiantHaze #Glassing #Hardcore #HeavyMetal #Hellbutcher #HellsHeadbangersRecords #HotGraves #Huntsmen #Incantation #Inquisition #IronMaiden #JudasPriest #Kallias #Kraków #Kyuss #MelodicBlackMetal #Meshuggah #MoonlightSorcery #MorbidAngel #Motörhead #NapalmRecords #NorwegianMetal #OldNick #PersonalRecords #PhantomFire #Plasmodulated #PowerMetal #ProgressiveDeathMetal #RawBlackMetal #Review #Reviews #SelfRelease #SilentMillenia #Slayer #Sludge #SludgeMetal #SomaliYachtClub #SpeedMetal #StonerRock #Stormkeep #StreetSects #StuckInTheFilter #StuckInTheFilter2025 #SwissMetal #SymphonicBlackMetal #TechnicalDeathMetal #TheTurning #TonzonenRecords #Turian #Voivod #Voyager #Wharflurch

Tómarúm – Beyond Obsidian Euphoria

By Kenstrosity

Over the past three years, I’ve come to appreciate Tómarúm’s surprising, mature debut Ash in Realms of Stone Icons at a deeper level than I had hoped to reach in the mere two weeks provided at the time. While I stand by my overall score—and by my critiques—my relationship with that record grew more meaningful and rewarding with time. Tómarúm’s spiritually charged, introspective point of view speaks volumes of suffering and strife, while the complexity of their musical compositions reflects in uncompromising clarity the fluid order that governs a turbulent chaos of the soul and of the heart. With this fresh in mind, I approach follow-up Beyond Obsidian Euphoria with great curiosity and equal anticipation.

Occupying a niche of progressive metal most commonly associated with acts like Ne Obliviscaris, but also connected to newer groups such as Amiensus, An Abstract Illusion, and Dawn of Ouroboros, Atlanta quintet Tómarúm boast an especially fluid and emotive sound. Progressive structures and ever-shifting phrases abound, yet never intrude, obstruct, or interrupt. Technical prowess reminiscent of Fallujah and Lunar Chamber creates additional dynamics most noticeably felt in the bass guitar, lead guitar, and drum performances. And, to my great delight, a new twist of machine-gun burst riffing pulled from Warforged‘s I: Voice playbook grants a palpable, terrifying presence. Beyond Obsidian Euphoria takes all of these elements, intrinsic to Tómarúm’s identity, and implements them with the same finesse and refinement of the last record, but with an altogether more hopeful tone. While still dealing with subjects of profound anguish and emotional turmoil, Beyond explores further the catharsis borne of dedicated, dogged persistence against those internal demons which would otherwise have your singular light extinguished from this mortal coil.

Nothing better exemplifies this shift in tone than the one-two punch of standout duo “Shallow Ecstasy” and “Shed This Erroneous Skin.” Epic sweeps of ominous shadow collide with shimmers of brilliance as menacing pummels advance their campaign against soaring leads and righteous solos. Those blackened rasps that voiced past work join the fray again as crooning cleans provide motivating counterpoint to fuel the flame of continuing life. A vivid chiaroscuro of composition personifies every moment across this 16-minute span, but the surrounding environs offer just as many dynamic moments of beauty and beastliness. The remarkably short and savage “Blood Mirage” deals massive damage to the cranium as it executes a brutal assault of riffs and tech-y oscillations, while “Halcyon Memory: Dreamscapes Across the Blue” evokes an Hail Spirit Noir-esque airiness that belies its double-bass propulsion and quasi-bluesy harmonized solos. The gamut of sounds, styles and textures malleate as soft putty in Tómarúm’s talented fingers, which allows their unfaltering focus on story and character to shine ever brighter on Beyond’s second immense suite of epics, “Silver, Ashen Tears” and “The Final Pursuit of Light.” Any impression of bloat falls to the wayside in the face of such nuanced and well-realized musical design, as melody, pace, substance, and technicality find a kaleidoscopic harmony striking in its multifaceted vibrancy.

At just under 70 minutes, Beyond Obsidian Euphoria daunts any audience with a monumental investment. The dividends, however, more than make up for the sacrifice. That is, if the listener is willing and ready to dig deep and find those moments most intimate and vulnerable. That delicate pluck of the string in a phrase flanked by vicious scrapes; the contrabass frequency that stimulates the spine as starry tremolos dot the sky; the desperate howl of pain and of shattered spirit that preludes an epiphany of truth and of healing; the miraculous congregation of hook and sophistication moving in tandem towards a shared apex of sound and story; all find a place in this wonderful piece, and each piece has its place. Unlike my experience with Ash in Realms, my experience with Beyond is one of complete and utter immersion. There is hardly a moment I would change, barely a segment I would cut—save for the fluffy interlude “Introspection III,” appearing too early on to leave a lasting mark by the close.

Occasionally, I find myself unable to dedicate the time necessary to engage with Tómarúm’s latest opus. I expect that others will experience the same unfortunate circumstance. While that certainly poses a question to the value statement of an album this long, specifically because its individual chapters can’t be separated without compromising the integrity of the whole, Beyond Obsidian Euphoria feels like a rare record that needs every second it consumes. The passion and personality Tómarúm exude in this work demands the price of time to bloom. If you give it the space to do so, what awaits can only be described as euphoric.

Rating: Excellent!
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Prosthetic Records
Websites: tomarum.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/TomarumBM/
Releases Worldwide: April 4th, 2025

#2025 #45 #AmericanMetal #Amiensus #AnAbstractIllusion #Apr25 #BeyondObsidianEuphoria #BlackMetal #Cormorant #DawnOfOuroboros #DeathMetal #Fallujah #HailSpiritNoir #LunarChamber #MelodicBlackMetal #MelodicDeathMetal #NeObliviscaris #ProgressiveBlackMetal #ProgressiveDeathMetal #ProgressiveMetal #ProstheticRecords #Review #Reviews #TechnicalDeathMetal #Tómarúm #Warforged

Tómarúm – Beyond Obsidian Euphoria

By Kenstrosity

Over the past three years, I’ve come to appreciate Tómarúm’s surprising, mature debut Ash in Realms of Stone Icons at a deeper level than I had hoped to reach in the mere two weeks provided at the time. While I stand by my overall score—and by my critiques—my relationship with that record grew more meaningful and rewarding with time. Tómarúm’s spiritually charged, introspective point of view speaks volumes of suffering and strife, while the complexity of their musical compositions reflects in uncompromising clarity the fluid order that governs a turbulent chaos of the soul and of the heart. With this fresh in mind, I approach follow-up Beyond Obsidian Euphoria with great curiosity and equal anticipation.

Occupying a niche of progressive metal most commonly associated with acts like Ne Obliviscaris, but also connected to newer groups such as Amiensus, An Abstract Illusion, and Dawn of Ouroboros, Atlanta quintet Tómarúm boast an especially fluid and emotive sound. Progressive structures and ever-shifting phrases abound, yet never intrude, obstruct, or interrupt. Technical prowess reminiscent of Fallujah and Lunar Chamber creates additional dynamics most noticeably felt in the bass guitar, lead guitar, and drum performances. And, to my great delight, a new twist of machine-gun burst riffing pulled from Warforged‘s I: Voice playbook grants a palpable, terrifying presence. Beyond Obsidian Euphoria takes all of these elements, intrinsic to Tómarúm’s identity, and implements them with the same finesse and refinement of the last record, but with an altogether more hopeful tone. While still dealing with subjects of profound anguish and emotional turmoil, Beyond explores further the catharsis borne of dedicated, dogged persistence against those internal demons which would otherwise have your singular light extinguished from this mortal coil.

Nothing better exemplifies this shift in tone than the one-two punch of standout duo “Shallow Ecstasy” and “Shed This Erroneous Skin.” Epic sweeps of ominous shadow collide with shimmers of brilliance as menacing pummels advance their campaign against soaring leads and righteous solos. Those blackened rasps that voiced past work join the fray again as crooning cleans provide motivating counterpoint to fuel the flame of continuing life. A vivid chiaroscuro of composition personifies every moment across this 16-minute span, but the surrounding environs offer just as many dynamic moments of beauty and beastliness. The remarkably short and savage “Blood Mirage” deals massive damage to the cranium as it executes a brutal assault of riffs and tech-y oscillations, while “Halcyon Memory: Dreamscapes Across the Blue” evokes an Hail Spirit Noir-esque airiness that belies its double-bass propulsion and quasi-bluesy harmonized solos. The gamut of sounds, styles and textures malleate as soft putty in Tómarúm’s talented fingers, which allows their unfaltering focus on story and character to shine ever brighter on Beyond’s second immense suite of epics, “Silver, Ashen Tears” and “The Final Pursuit of Light.” Any impression of bloat falls to the wayside in the face of such nuanced and well-realized musical design, as melody, pace, substance, and technicality find a kaleidoscopic harmony striking in its multifaceted vibrancy.

At just under 70 minutes, Beyond Obsidian Euphoria daunts any audience with a monumental investment. The dividends, however, more than make up for the sacrifice. That is, if the listener is willing and ready to dig deep and find those moments most intimate and vulnerable. That delicate pluck of the string in a phrase flanked by vicious scrapes; the contrabass frequency that stimulates the spine as starry tremolos dot the sky; the desperate howl of pain and of shattered spirit that preludes an epiphany of truth and of healing; the miraculous congregation of hook and sophistication moving in tandem towards a shared apex of sound and story; all find a place in this wonderful piece, and each piece has its place. Unlike my experience with Ash in Realms, my experience with Beyond is one of complete and utter immersion. There is hardly a moment I would change, barely a segment I would cut—save for the fluffy interlude “Introspection III,” appearing too early on to leave a lasting mark by the close.

Occasionally, I find myself unable to dedicate the time necessary to engage with Tómarúm’s latest opus. I expect that others will experience the same unfortunate circumstance. While that certainly poses a question to the value statement of an album this long, specifically because its individual chapters can’t be separated without compromising the integrity of the whole, Beyond Obsidian Euphoria feels like a rare record that needs every second it consumes. The passion and personality Tómarúm exude in this work demands the price of time to bloom. If you give it the space to do so, what awaits can only be described as euphoric.

Rating: Excellent!
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Prosthetic Records
Websites: tomarum.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/TomarumBM/
Releases Worldwide: April 4th, 2025

#2025 #45 #AmericanMetal #Amiensus #AnAbstractIllusion #Apr25 #BeyondObsidianEuphoria #BlackMetal #Cormorant #DawnOfOuroboros #DeathMetal #Fallujah #HailSpiritNoir #LunarChamber #MelodicBlackMetal #MelodicDeathMetal #NeObliviscaris #ProgressiveBlackMetal #ProgressiveDeathMetal #ProgressiveMetal #ProstheticRecords #Review #Reviews #TechnicalDeathMetal #Tómarúm #Warforged

Tómarúm – Beyond Obsidian Euphoria

By Kenstrosity

Over the past three years, I’ve come to appreciate Tómarúm’s surprising, mature debut Ash in Realms of Stone Icons at a deeper level than I had hoped to reach in the mere two weeks provided at the time. While I stand by my overall score—and by my critiques—my relationship with that record grew more meaningful and rewarding with time. Tómarúm’s spiritually charged, introspective point of view speaks volumes of suffering and strife, while the complexity of their musical compositions reflects in uncompromising clarity the fluid order that governs a turbulent chaos of the soul and of the heart. With this fresh in mind, I approach follow-up Beyond Obsidian Euphoria with great curiosity and equal anticipation.

Occupying a niche of progressive metal most commonly associated with acts like Ne Obliviscaris, but also connected to newer groups such as Amiensus, An Abstract Illusion, and Dawn of Ouroboros, Atlanta quintet Tómarúm boast an especially fluid and emotive sound. Progressive structures and ever-shifting phrases abound, yet never intrude, obstruct, or interrupt. Technical prowess reminiscent of Fallujah and Lunar Chamber creates additional dynamics most noticeably felt in the bass guitar, lead guitar, and drum performances. And, to my great delight, a new twist of machine-gun burst riffing pulled from Warforged‘s I: Voice playbook grants a palpable, terrifying presence. Beyond Obsidian Euphoria takes all of these elements, intrinsic to Tómarúm’s identity, and implements them with the same finesse and refinement of the last record, but with an altogether more hopeful tone. While still dealing with subjects of profound anguish and emotional turmoil, Beyond explores further the catharsis borne of dedicated, dogged persistence against those internal demons which would otherwise have your singular light extinguished from this mortal coil.

Nothing better exemplifies this shift in tone than the one-two punch of standout duo “Shallow Ecstasy” and “Shed This Erroneous Skin.” Epic sweeps of ominous shadow collide with shimmers of brilliance as menacing pummels advance their campaign against soaring leads and righteous solos. Those blackened rasps that voiced past work join the fray again as crooning cleans provide motivating counterpoint to fuel the flame of continuing life. A vivid chiaroscuro of composition personifies every moment across this 16-minute span, but the surrounding environs offer just as many dynamic moments of beauty and beastliness. The remarkably short and savage “Blood Mirage” deals massive damage to the cranium as it executes a brutal assault of riffs and tech-y oscillations, while “Halcyon Memory: Dreamscapes Across the Blue” evokes an Hail Spirit Noir-esque airiness that belies its double-bass propulsion and quasi-bluesy harmonized solos. The gamut of sounds, styles and textures malleate as soft putty in Tómarúm’s talented fingers, which allows their unfaltering focus on story and character to shine ever brighter on Beyond’s second immense suite of epics, “Silver, Ashen Tears” and “The Final Pursuit of Light.” Any impression of bloat falls to the wayside in the face of such nuanced and well-realized musical design, as melody, pace, substance, and technicality find a kaleidoscopic harmony striking in its multifaceted vibrancy.

At just under 70 minutes, Beyond Obsidian Euphoria daunts any audience with a monumental investment. The dividends, however, more than make up for the sacrifice. That is, if the listener is willing and ready to dig deep and find those moments most intimate and vulnerable. That delicate pluck of the string in a phrase flanked by vicious scrapes; the contrabass frequency that stimulates the spine as starry tremolos dot the sky; the desperate howl of pain and of shattered spirit that preludes an epiphany of truth and of healing; the miraculous congregation of hook and sophistication moving in tandem towards a shared apex of sound and story; all find a place in this wonderful piece, and each piece has its place. Unlike my experience with Ash in Realms, my experience with Beyond is one of complete and utter immersion. There is hardly a moment I would change, barely a segment I would cut—save for the fluffy interlude “Introspection III,” appearing too early on to leave a lasting mark by the close.

Occasionally, I find myself unable to dedicate the time necessary to engage with Tómarúm’s latest opus. I expect that others will experience the same unfortunate circumstance. While that certainly poses a question to the value statement of an album this long, specifically because its individual chapters can’t be separated without compromising the integrity of the whole, Beyond Obsidian Euphoria feels like a rare record that needs every second it consumes. The passion and personality Tómarúm exude in this work demands the price of time to bloom. If you give it the space to do so, what awaits can only be described as euphoric.

Rating: Excellent!
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Prosthetic Records
Websites: tomarum.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/TomarumBM/
Releases Worldwide: April 4th, 2025

#2025 #45 #AmericanMetal #Amiensus #AnAbstractIllusion #Apr25 #BeyondObsidianEuphoria #BlackMetal #Cormorant #DawnOfOuroboros #DeathMetal #Fallujah #HailSpiritNoir #LunarChamber #MelodicBlackMetal #MelodicDeathMetal #NeObliviscaris #ProgressiveBlackMetal #ProgressiveDeathMetal #ProgressiveMetal #ProstheticRecords #Review #Reviews #TechnicalDeathMetal #Tómarúm #Warforged

Tómarúm – Beyond Obsidian Euphoria

By Kenstrosity

Over the past three years, I’ve come to appreciate Tómarúm’s surprising, mature debut Ash in Realms of Stone Icons at a deeper level than I had hoped to reach in the mere two weeks provided at the time. While I stand by my overall score—and by my critiques—my relationship with that record grew more meaningful and rewarding with time. Tómarúm’s spiritually charged, introspective point of view speaks volumes of suffering and strife, while the complexity of their musical compositions reflects in uncompromising clarity the fluid order that governs a turbulent chaos of the soul and of the heart. With this fresh in mind, I approach follow-up Beyond Obsidian Euphoria with great curiosity and equal anticipation.

Occupying a niche of progressive metal most commonly associated with acts like Ne Obliviscaris, but also connected to newer groups such as Amiensus, An Abstract Illusion, and Dawn of Ouroboros, Atlanta quintet Tómarúm boast an especially fluid and emotive sound. Progressive structures and ever-shifting phrases abound, yet never intrude, obstruct, or interrupt. Technical prowess reminiscent of Fallujah and Lunar Chamber creates additional dynamics most noticeably felt in the bass guitar, lead guitar, and drum performances. And, to my great delight, a new twist of machine-gun burst riffing pulled from Warforged‘s I: Voice playbook grants a palpable, terrifying presence. Beyond Obsidian Euphoria takes all of these elements, intrinsic to Tómarúm’s identity, and implements them with the same finesse and refinement of the last record, but with an altogether more hopeful tone. While still dealing with subjects of profound anguish and emotional turmoil, Beyond explores further the catharsis borne of dedicated, dogged persistence against those internal demons which would otherwise have your singular light extinguished from this mortal coil.

Nothing better exemplifies this shift in tone than the one-two punch of standout duo “Shallow Ecstasy” and “Shed This Erroneous Skin.” Epic sweeps of ominous shadow collide with shimmers of brilliance as menacing pummels advance their campaign against soaring leads and righteous solos. Those blackened rasps that voiced past work join the fray again as crooning cleans provide motivating counterpoint to fuel the flame of continuing life. A vivid chiaroscuro of composition personifies every moment across this 16-minute span, but the surrounding environs offer just as many dynamic moments of beauty and beastliness. The remarkably short and savage “Blood Mirage” deals massive damage to the cranium as it executes a brutal assault of riffs and tech-y oscillations, while “Halcyon Memory: Dreamscapes Across the Blue” evokes an Hail Spirit Noir-esque airiness that belies its double-bass propulsion and quasi-bluesy harmonized solos. The gamut of sounds, styles and textures malleate as soft putty in Tómarúm’s talented fingers, which allows their unfaltering focus on story and character to shine ever brighter on Beyond’s second immense suite of epics, “Silver, Ashen Tears” and “The Final Pursuit of Light.” Any impression of bloat falls to the wayside in the face of such nuanced and well-realized musical design, as melody, pace, substance, and technicality find a kaleidoscopic harmony striking in its multifaceted vibrancy.

At just under 70 minutes, Beyond Obsidian Euphoria daunts any audience with a monumental investment. The dividends, however, more than make up for the sacrifice. That is, if the listener is willing and ready to dig deep and find those moments most intimate and vulnerable. That delicate pluck of the string in a phrase flanked by vicious scrapes; the contrabass frequency that stimulates the spine as starry tremolos dot the sky; the desperate howl of pain and of shattered spirit that preludes an epiphany of truth and of healing; the miraculous congregation of hook and sophistication moving in tandem towards a shared apex of sound and story; all find a place in this wonderful piece, and each piece has its place. Unlike my experience with Ash in Realms, my experience with Beyond is one of complete and utter immersion. There is hardly a moment I would change, barely a segment I would cut—save for the fluffy interlude “Introspection III,” appearing too early on to leave a lasting mark by the close.

Occasionally, I find myself unable to dedicate the time necessary to engage with Tómarúm’s latest opus. I expect that others will experience the same unfortunate circumstance. While that certainly poses a question to the value statement of an album this long, specifically because its individual chapters can’t be separated without compromising the integrity of the whole, Beyond Obsidian Euphoria feels like a rare record that needs every second it consumes. The passion and personality Tómarúm exude in this work demands the price of time to bloom. If you give it the space to do so, what awaits can only be described as euphoric.

Rating: Excellent!
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Prosthetic Records
Websites: tomarum.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/TomarumBM/
Releases Worldwide: April 4th, 2025

#2025 #45 #AmericanMetal #Amiensus #AnAbstractIllusion #Apr25 #BeyondObsidianEuphoria #BlackMetal #Cormorant #DawnOfOuroboros #DeathMetal #Fallujah #HailSpiritNoir #LunarChamber #MelodicBlackMetal #MelodicDeathMetal #NeObliviscaris #ProgressiveBlackMetal #ProgressiveDeathMetal #ProgressiveMetal #ProstheticRecords #Review #Reviews #TechnicalDeathMetal #Tómarúm #Warforged

Retromorphosis – Psalmus Mortis Review

By Saunders

When Sweden’s Spawn of Possession drew curtains on their distinguished career in 2017, it spelled the end of one of modern tech death’s finest acts. Bands across the globe flooded the scene in the intervening years, saturating the market to varying degrees of success. Emerging like fresh shoots from the earth in which Spawn of Possession were laid to rest, Retromorphosis features the gold plated pedigree of former Spawn of Possession mainstays Dennis Röndum (vocals), Jonas Bryssling (guitars) and Erlend Caspersen (bass), joining forces with another former SoP member and legendary shredder Christian Muenzner (Necrophagist, Obscura, Alkaloid), and classy, octopus-limbed drummer KC Howard (ex-Decrepit Birth, Odious Mortem). Boasting a bulletproof cast of esteemed metal musicians at their disposal, Retromorphosis appear hellbent on adding their own fresh perspective on the knotty tech death formula SoP made their own throughout their influential career. Debut album Psalmus Mortis naturally comes with lofty expectations and a line-up to salivate over.

Right away, it’s difficult to completely separate Retromorphosis from the SoP legacy. Beyond the obviously strong band DNA comes the fact that Retromorphosis share many of the same musical and songwriting traits. That said, it does a disservice to purely pin them as Spawn of Possession 2.0. This new incarnation has some tricks up their collective sleeves, unleashing an intricately constructed storm of cyclonic riffs, technical wizardry, rapid-fire blasts, and complex drum patterns. Similarities aside, Psalmus Mortis contains its own mutated characteristics and is not simply a rehashing of recycled ideas. The songwriting is exciting and inspired. There’s a little more flashy pizzazz in the solo department and more pronounced use of keys and synths adds a touch of epic bombast and sinister atmosphere to otherwise meaty, twisty compositions. However, the technicality does not compromise memorable, song-based writing.

Drenched in killer atmosphere and slow-building tension, opening instrumental “Obscure Exordium” crams loads of free-flowing ideas, orchestral touches, and good old-fashioned blasting into its short timeframe. The segue into the aggressive “Vanished” is smoothly executed, shifting gears from a brooding atmosphere to rugged, speedy attacks and whirlwind tempo shifts that define the track. Best absorbed in its entirety, the eight juggernauts boast dynamic variations, remarkable fluidity, and individual character. Robust, progressive-leaning shifts of “The Tree” navigates maze-like complexities through multiple moving parts, deftly maintaining fluency and memorability. Complex, thrashy, and aggressively riffy monster jams “Aunt Christie’s Will” and “Retromorphosis” represent ripping examples of the album’s strengths, exhibited through warped harmonies, lightspeed tempos, headbangable grooves, and grippingly infectious dual axework. “Machine” plunders and steamrolls through nine minutes of chugging riffage, brooding atmospheres, whip-smart tempo shifts, and proggy transitions, making every moment count. Only a couple of tracks fall marginally short of the overall pristine standards, though it’s a consistently gripping front-to-back listen.

Whereas some tech death bands fall victim to overindulgence, resulting in the deathly elements becoming afterthoughts, Retromorphosis avoid this pitfall. Thunderous kicks, machine gunning blasts, Röndum’s impactful growls, and the malevolent, sick old school grooves erupting from the labyrinthine arrangements offer resoundingly beefy, aggressive oomph to proceedings. Freakishly skilled talents abound, the musicianship is next-level awesome. Bryssling and Muenzner are a formidable force in the tech realms, delivering a masterclass of staggering technical mindfuckery, bamboozling solos, and an array of striking harmonies, otherworldly melodies, and intricate, catchy tech death riffs. The underrated vox and spitfire growls of Röndum (ex-Visceral Bleeding) lend the album a brutal, old-school edge, while Howard and Caspersen refuse to be overshadowed. The former’s blisteringly intense performance is perfectly matched to the complexity and dynamics of the material. Casperson makes his presence felt at key moments, offering a notable melodic counterpoint and presence. The sharp, punchy sound is polished but contains ample warmth and heft, the breathable master a big plus.

Featuring the bulk of the Incurso line-up, Psalmus Mortis is something of a spiritual successor, albeit a sleeker, polished counterpart. While it can’t quite match that modern classic, it’s an immense, dizzying tech-death debut of serious fucking proportions and exemplary musical chops. Retromorphosis more than live up to the dreaded supergroup tag. carrying on and reimagining the legacy of the legendary band in which they spawned. Retromorphosis raise the bar and put the tech death scene on notice in 2025. It’s an exciting prospect to see how Retromorphosis develops and evolves from here. All that’s missing is a Chalky guest spot.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Season of Mist
Websites: retromorphosisofficial.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/retromorphosis.swe
Releases Worldwide: February 21st, 2025

Maddog

The 2012 release of Spawn of Possession’s Incurso is Sharpied into my memory. At the time, I had devoured Cabinet and dabbled in Noctambulant but was no expert. Then, a now-defunct review on Heavy Blog is Heavy awarded Incurso a perfect score, arguing that it was the greatest tech-death album ever. Flabbergasted, I gave Incurso a listen. Spawn of Possession’s swansong ratcheted up the band’s technicality while trimming the band’s “Jonas” count from three to one. New guitarist Christian Muenzner (ex-Necrophagist, ex-Obscura, every other band) decorated the album with gorgeous leads. Meanwhile, Erlend Caspersen’s hyperactive bass lines balanced wizardry with finesse followed up with the coolest bass playthrough ever (“The Evangelist”). I grew to adore Spawn of Possession, and their subsequent fizzle-out was heartbreaking. Retromorphosis’ recent inception was equally thrilling. Retromorphosis’ debut Psalmus Mortis aims to resurrect SoP’s legacy and boasts four of the five members of the Incurso line-up. My expectations started out sky-high.

BOOM, BANG boom, weedle-weedle skree, BOOM, BANG boom, weedle-weedle-weedle weedle-DOO, BOOM, WEE-bang-DLE-doo—yes, they’re back. Spawn of Possession’s signature sprawls across Psalmus Mortis, and the universe is better off for it. Guitarists Jonas Bryssling and Christian Muenzner offer neither a Viraemian noodle fest nor a monotony of has-been death metal. Rather, their hybrid approach is at once acrobatic, shamelessly melodic, and more riff-centric than Incurso. Retromorphosis’ neoclassical melodies flail and interweave, evoking Necrophagist while wielding both heft and beauty. On the other hand, Psalmus Mortis’ chunky riffs flirt with old-school death metal and even death-doom (“Obscure Exordium,” “Vanished”). Similarly, new drummer KC Howard (Odious Mortem, ex-Decrepit Birth) bludgeons his kit with both class and frenzy, guiding the music through bewildering rhythms. Dennis Röndum’s vocals take a manic Archspiresque approach without sacrificing clarity. Like Spawn of Possession, Retromorphosis uses backing synths and foreboding guitar melodies to set the scene. Landing between Noctambulant and Incurso, Psalmus Mortis’ style feels familiar but fresh.

When Psalmus Mortis delivers, it’s a thrill. The album grabs the listener with both its technical gymnastics and its MMA maneuvers. The closer “Exalted Splendour” showcases trapezing Obscura-style leads that balance grandeur and fun, while “Vanished” remains headbangable even through its spastic rhythm changes. Even when Psalmus Mortis resorts to unrestrained noodling, it uses its melodic backbone to avoid getting soggy (“Retromorphosis”). Conversely, the straightforward six-note tremolo riff that underpins “Aunt Christie’s Will” is the record’s most memorable snippet, while the midsection of “Retromorphosis” is tinged with Immolation’s Unholy Cult. Still, Psalmus Mortis’ 42 minutes aren’t consistently engaging. This is partly because of bloat, like the sleepy first half of the nine-minute “Machine.” It’s partly because of a frustratingly muted bass presence from the phenomenal Caspersen. And it’s partly just because certain riffs lack power (“Never to Awake”). Psalmus Mortis is a strong outing, but it sometimes feels more like a purely intellectual exercise than an exciting ride.

However, Incurso’s narrative quality remains Psalmus Mortis’ greatest asset. Psalmus Mortis feels like a collection of Poe stories. Retromorphosis’ smooth but dogged plot development defines “The Tree,” a tale of environmental neglect where the protagonist’s escalating missteps are accompanied by escalating musical urgency. Throughout the record, guitar melodies summon suffocating atmospheres, wrenching the mood from awe to terror and back again. Plot twists and masterful storytelling culminate in colossal climaxes, like the dramatic melody that accompanies the narrator’s revelation in “Retromorphosis.” Even as they evolve, Psalmus Mortis’ songs stay tethered to recognizable themes, like the main melody and lyrical refrain that anchor “Aunt Christie’s Will.” Psalmus Mortis’ narrative flow stands unmatched by any genre-mates other than Gorod and Spawn of Possession themselves.

Psalmus Mortis isn’t a modern classic, but it’s better than we deserve. Spawn of Possession’s take on death metal has proven to be both immortal and peerless. Retromorphosis’ debut offers an unforeseen glimpse at a style that had seemingly faded into the realm of archaeology. Dips in quality and underuse of Caspersen’s bass prowess hold it back from excellence. But Psalmus Mortis’ blend of XXXXL death metal riffs, dizzying rhythms, and blistering technicality is highly combustible. Most of all, the record’s approach to storytelling stands apart. The last decade taught me that while Spawn of Possession hits hard at first, it improves with age. Come 2030, I may regret underrating this album.

Rating: Very Good

#2025 #35 #40 #Alkaloid #Archspire #DeathMetal #DecrepitBirth #Feb25 #Gorod #Immolation #Necrophagist #Obscura #OdiousMortem #PsalmusMortis #Retromorphosis #Review #Reviews #SeasonOfMist #SeasonOfMistRecords #SpawnOfPossession #SwedishMetal #TechnicalDeathMetal #Viraemia #VisceralBleeding

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ALKALOID (OBSCURA, TRIPTYKON, Etc.) Goes Full Tilt On Technical New Single "The Cambrian Explosion"
There are some pretty insane tonal shifts, too.

https://metalinjection.net/new-music/alkaloid-obscura-triptykon-etc-goes-full-tilt-on-technical-new-single-the-cambrian-explosion

#Alkaloid
#Obscura
#Triptykon
#TheCambrianExplosion
#TechnicalDeathMetal
#FulTilt
#NewSingle