#technicaldeathmetal — Public Fediverse posts

https://www.europesays.com/be-nl/105825/ Psycroptic – The Pulse Of Annihilation #BE #België #Belgium #groove #MetalBladeRecords #psycroptic #recensie #review #Science #ScienceAndTechnology #ScienceAndTechnology #TechDeath #TechnicalDeathMetal #Technologie #Technology #ThePulseOfAnnihilation #Wetenschap #WetenschapEnTechnologie #WetenschapTechnologie #ZwareMetalen

https://www.europesays.com/uk/1098258/ Apogean – Waste Where Life Begins Review #20 #2026 #Alterbeast #Apogean #CanadianMetal #DeathMetal #Entertainment #Eschaton #Inferi #Jul26 #music #Review #Reviews #TechnicalDeathMetal #TheArtisanEra #UK #UnitedKingdom #ValeOfPnath #WasteWhereLifeBegins

Apogean – Waste Where Life Begins Review

In the game of reviews, expectations can either be a blessing or a curse. Whichever way they fall,…
#NewsBeep #News #Music #2.0 #2026 #Alterbeast #Apogean #AU #Australia #CanadianMetal #DeathMetal #Entertainment #Eschaton #Inferi #Jul26 #review #reviews #TechnicalDeathMetal #TheArtisanEra #ValeofPnath #WasteWhereLifeBegins
https://www.newsbeep.com/au/809636/

Apogean – Waste Where Life Begins Review

In the game of reviews, expectations can either be a blessing or a curse. Whichever way they fall,…
#NewsBeep #News #Music #2.0 #2026 #Alterbeast #Apogean #AU #Australia #CanadianMetal #DeathMetal #Entertainment #Eschaton #Inferi #Jul26 #review #reviews #TechnicalDeathMetal #TheArtisanEra #ValeofPnath #WasteWhereLifeBegins
https://www.newsbeep.com/au/809636/

https://www.europesays.com/ie/593010/ Apogean – Waste Where Life Begins Review #20 #2026 #Alterbeast #Apogean #CanadianMetal #DeathMetal #Éire #Entertainment #Eschaton #IE #Inferi #Ireland #Jul26 #Music #Review #Reviews #TechnicalDeathMetal #TheArtisanEra #ValeOfPnath #WasteWhereLifeBegins

Apogean – Waste Where Life Begins Review

In the game of reviews, expectations can either be a blessing or a curse. Whichever way they fall,…
#NewsBeep #News #Music #2.0 #2026 #Alterbeast #Apogean #CanadianMetal #DeathMetal #Entertainment #Eschaton #Inferi #Jul26 #review #Reviews #technicaldeathmetal #TheArtisanEra #UK #UnitedKingdom #ValeofPnath #WasteWhereLifeBegins
https://www.newsbeep.com/uk/699156/

Apogean – Waste Where Life Begins Review

In the game of reviews, expectations can either be a blessing or a curse. Whichever way they fall,…
#NewsBeep #News #Music #2.0 #2026 #Alterbeast #Apogean #CA #Canada #CanadianMetal #DeathMetal #Entertainment #Eschaton #Inferi #Jul26 #review #reviews #TechnicalDeathMetal #TheArtisanEra #ValeofPnath #WasteWhereLifeBegins
https://www.newsbeep.com/ca/810820/

In the game of reviews, expectations can either be a blessing or a curse. Whichever way they fall, one truth remains: expectations are a bitch. It’s a hard lesson that Canadian technical death metal outfit Apogean is about to learn firsthand. Back in 2024, the then largely unknown quintet—with little more than a single EP to their name—released their debut full-length, Cyberstrictive. Inspired by Ray Bradbury’s Fahrenheit 451, it was a dystopian barrage of assaulting technical death metal that paired jaw-dropping musicianship with memorable riffs and great songwriting, making it my most played record of the year. I crowned it my Album O’ the Year during my budding n00b days for this site, so when Waste Where Life Begins was announced, I was stoked. At the same time, however, the specter of the dreaded sophomore slump loomed large. Could Apogean make it two in a row after a list-topping debut, or would the weight of expectations prove too much to overcome?

Unfortunately, Waste Where Life Begins doesn’t come close to matching its predecessor, and the reasons are twofold. First, where Cyberstrictive was unabashedly a tech death record à la Vale of Pnath or Inferi, Waste Where Life Begins plants its flag much closer to deathcore and blackened death. Cuts like “Lie in Cinder” and “Waste Where Life Begins” make this shift painfully obvious, with endlessly chugged caveman riffs, half‑time knuckle‑dragging rhythms and tropey guitar squeals and string rakes. It’s easy to point to lineup turnover as the culprit behind the stylistic change—guitarist Gabriel Castro and drummer Jacob Wagner gave way to Jack Post and Doug Noel, respectively—but that doesn’t make the transformation any less jarring. To be sure, traces of their explosive past still exist. “Nassaru” and “Hologram (Singing Silently on an Empty Stage),” for example, are adrenalized tracks with the spunky riffing and technicality that worked so well before. Dexter Forbes’ and Post’s guitar solos also elicit plenty of flashy fretwork, but Waste Where Life Begins feels like Apogean has traded in their sports car for a lifted truck, to its detriment.

Second, Waste Where Life Begins would work far better as an EP. Despite running only thirty-three minutes, the record somehow feels long, like Apogean strained to add material. The album’s disjointed sequencing reinforces this impression, pushing and pulling in conflicting directions, and the completely purposeless interlude “Ritual” adds nothing except the suspicion that someone insisted on hitting a minimum runtime. Some songs embrace unadorned composition (“Daughter of Oak,” “Lie in Cinder,” and the title track), while others attempt to recapture the cybernetic stylings of old (“Black Smoke, Bleeding Earth,” “Hologram (Singing Silently on an Empty Stage), “Nassaru”), resulting in a bifurcated flow with little sense of cohesion. Further compounding matters is the repetitive songcraft. The first third relies so heavily on the same chugging and squealing guitar patterns that they begin to blur together, as if a song’s worth of ideas were stretched across multiple tracks.

Apogean remains a highly talented group, and Waste Where Life Begins contains enough strong performances to suggest a return to form for these lads remains within reach. Vocalist Mac Smith (Eschaton, ex-Alterbeast) and drummer Doug Noel, in particular, deliver impressive performances throughout. Smith grabs my attention with his dynamic range of growls, rasps, guttural belches, and pig squeals, effortlessly shifting between techniques and tones. His vocals sound downright burly and well-defined in the mix, consistently drawing my focus back to his performance. Noel is equally impressive, bringing a much-needed degree of versatility to the songwriting. His playing ranges from bludgeoning, syncopated grooves on tracks like “Nassaru” and the title track to raucous blast beats on “Black Smoke, Bleeding Earth” and “White Trees, Black Leaves,” all accented by some snazzy cymbal work that adds color to an otherwise flat palette.

I won’t sugarcoat it: Waste Where Life Begins is a disappointment. After eagerly anticipating a follow-up to Cyberstrictive, I’m left unsatisfied by a record that abandons much of what made its predecessor so great. The energetic, virtuosic, and memorable songwriting that defined Cyberstrictive has largely been replaced by a middling blend of deathcore and blackened death. Apogean’s decision to broaden its sound is certainly understandable, especially given the recent lineup changes, but this new direction is a clear step back. Apogean surely has the talent to right the ship, but Waste Where Life Begins is yet another example of the dreaded sophomore slump.

Rating: Disappointing
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: The Artisan Era
Websites: apogean.bandcamp.com/music | facebook.com/ApogeanOfficial
Releases Worldwide: July 10th, 2026

In the game of reviews, expectations can either be a blessing or a curse. Whichever way they fall, one truth remains: expectations are a bitch. It’s a hard lesson that Canadian technical death metal outfit Apogean is about to learn firsthand. Back in 2024, the then largely unknown quintet—with little more than a single EP to their name—released their debut full-length, Cyberstrictive. Inspired by Ray Bradbury’s Fahrenheit 451, it was a dystopian barrage of assaulting technical death metal that paired jaw-dropping musicianship with memorable riffs and great songwriting, making it my most played record of the year. I crowned it my Album O’ the Year during my budding n00b days for this site, so when Waste Where Life Begins was announced, I was stoked. At the same time, however, the specter of the dreaded sophomore slump loomed large. Could Apogean make it two in a row after a list-topping debut, or would the weight of expectations prove too much to overcome?

Unfortunately, Waste Where Life Begins doesn’t come close to matching its predecessor, and the reasons are twofold. First, where Cyberstrictive was unabashedly a tech death record à la Vale of Pnath or Inferi, Waste Where Life Begins plants its flag much closer to deathcore and blackened death. Cuts like “Lie in Cinder” and “Waste Where Life Begins” make this shift painfully obvious, with endlessly chugged caveman riffs, half‑time knuckle‑dragging rhythms and tropey guitar squeals and string rakes. It’s easy to point to lineup turnover as the culprit behind the stylistic change—guitarist Gabriel Castro and drummer Jacob Wagner gave way to Jack Post and Doug Noel, respectively—but that doesn’t make the transformation any less jarring. To be sure, traces of their explosive past still exist. “Nassaru” and “Hologram (Singing Silently on an Empty Stage),” for example, are adrenalized tracks with the spunky riffing and technicality that worked so well before. Dexter Forbes’ and Post’s guitar solos also elicit plenty of flashy fretwork, but Waste Where Life Begins feels like Apogean has traded in their sports car for a lifted truck, to its detriment.

Second, Waste Where Life Begins would work far better as an EP. Despite running only thirty-three minutes, the record somehow feels long, like Apogean strained to add material. The album’s disjointed sequencing reinforces this impression, pushing and pulling in conflicting directions, and the completely purposeless interlude “Ritual” adds nothing except the suspicion that someone insisted on hitting a minimum runtime. Some songs embrace unadorned composition (“Daughter of Oak,” “Lie in Cinder,” and the title track), while others attempt to recapture the cybernetic stylings of old (“Black Smoke, Bleeding Earth,” “Hologram (Singing Silently on an Empty Stage), “Nassaru”), resulting in a bifurcated flow with little sense of cohesion. Further compounding matters is the repetitive songcraft. The first third relies so heavily on the same chugging and squealing guitar patterns that they begin to blur together, as if a song’s worth of ideas were stretched across multiple tracks.

Apogean remains a highly talented group, and Waste Where Life Begins contains enough strong performances to suggest a return to form for these lads remains within reach. Vocalist Mac Smith (Eschaton, ex-Alterbeast) and drummer Doug Noel, in particular, deliver impressive performances throughout. Smith grabs my attention with his dynamic range of growls, rasps, guttural belches, and pig squeals, effortlessly shifting between techniques and tones. His vocals sound downright burly and well-defined in the mix, consistently drawing my focus back to his performance. Noel is equally impressive, bringing a much-needed degree of versatility to the songwriting. His playing ranges from bludgeoning, syncopated grooves on tracks like “Nassaru” and the title track to raucous blast beats on “Black Smoke, Bleeding Earth” and “White Trees, Black Leaves,” all accented by some snazzy cymbal work that adds color to an otherwise flat palette.

I won’t sugarcoat it: Waste Where Life Begins is a disappointment. After eagerly anticipating a follow-up to Cyberstrictive, I’m left unsatisfied by a record that abandons much of what made its predecessor so great. The energetic, virtuosic, and memorable songwriting that defined Cyberstrictive has largely been replaced by a middling blend of deathcore and blackened death. Apogean’s decision to broaden its sound is certainly understandable, especially given the recent lineup changes, but this new direction is a clear step back. Apogean surely has the talent to right the ship, but Waste Where Life Begins is yet another example of the dreaded sophomore slump.

Rating: Disappointing
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: The Artisan Era
Websites: apogean.bandcamp.com/music | facebook.com/ApogeanOfficial
Releases Worldwide: July 10th, 2026

EATEN BY SHARKS (Canadà) presenta nou àlbum: "The Undertow of Hate" #EatenBySharks #TechnicalDeathMetal #Deathcore #Juliol2026 #Canadà #NouÀlbum #Metall #Metal #MúsicaMetal #MetalMusic

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

New Psycroptic Album Day is a good day.

Our Pillars Fall is a cracker of a song, but (and I may be wrong here) it seemed unusual to hear a fade out in this sort of metal song.

The Pulse of Annihilation - Psycroptic

https://psycroptic.bandcamp.com/album/the-pulse-of-annihilation

#Psycroptic #DeathMetal #TechnicalDeathMetal

A KARMIC GRAY (Estats Units) presenta nou àlbum: "All The World's A Stage" #AKarmicGray #Metalcore #TechnicalDeathMetal #Various #Juliol2026 #EstatsUnits #NouÀlbum #Metall #Metal #MúsicaMetal #MetalMusic

HOUNDS OF TINDALOS (Xina) presenta nou EP: "The Covenant Sealed" #HoundsOfTindalos #SymphonicMetal #TechnicalDeathMetal #Juliol2026 #Xina #NouEp #Metall #Metal #MúsicaMetal #MetalMusic

HOUNDS OF TINDALOS (Xina) presenta nou EP: "The Covenant Sealed" #HoundsOfTindalos #SymphonicMetal #TechnicalDeathMetal #Juliol2026 #Xina #NouEp #Metall #Metal #MúsicaMetal #MetalMusic

A KARMIC GRAY (Estats Units) presenta nou àlbum: "Ache's Compass" #AKarmicGray #Metalcore #TechnicalDeathMetal #Various #Juliol2026 #EstatsUnits #NouÀlbum #Metall #Metal #MúsicaMetal #MetalMusic

DYSGNOSTIC (Dinamarca) presenta nou àlbum: "End Whispers" #Dysgnostic #TechnicalDeathMetal #Juliol2026 #Dinamarca #NouÀlbum #Metall #Metal #MúsicaMetal #MetalMusic

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

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

Arise from Worms – A Bleeding Tree Hanging Self Destruction Review

If unrepentant guitar shredding gets your juices flowi…
#NewsBeep #News #Music #2.5 #2026 #ABleedingTreeHangingSelfDestruction #AmericanMetal #Annihilator #ArisefromWorms #ChurchRoadRecords #Cryptopsy #DragonForce #DreamTheater #Entertainment #FrenchMetal #Incantation #InternationalMetal #Jul26 #MorbidAngel #Necrophagist #review #Reviews #technicaldeathmetal #UK #UnitedKingdom #YngwieMalmsteen
https://www.newsbeep.com/uk/680502/

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

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

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

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

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

A KARMIC GRAY (Estats Units) presenta nou àlbum: "Think Void" #AKarmicGray #Metalcore #TechnicalDeathMetal #Various #Juliol2026 #EstatsUnits #NouÀlbum #Metall #Metal #MúsicaMetal #MetalMusic

A KARMIC GRAY (Estats Units) presenta nou àlbum: "Within The Glass" #AKarmicGray #Metalcore #TechnicalDeathMetal #Various #Juliol2026 #EstatsUnits #NouÀlbum #Metall #Metal #MúsicaMetal #MetalMusic

HORROR PARADISE (Mèxic) presenta nou àlbum: "Dominio inhumano" #HorrorParadise #Brutal #TechnicalDeathMetal #Juliol2026 #Mèxic #NouÀlbum #Metall #Metal #MúsicaMetal #MetalMusic

HORROR PARADISE (Mèxic) presenta nou àlbum: "Dominio inhumano" #HorrorParadise #Brutal #TechnicalDeathMetal #Juliol2026 #Mèxic #NouÀlbum #Metall #Metal #MúsicaMetal #MetalMusic

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

A KARMIC GRAY (Estats Units) presenta nou àlbum: "Ostreprous" #AKarmicGray #Metalcore #TechnicalDeathMetal #Various #Juny2026 #EstatsUnits #NouÀlbum #Metall #Metal #MúsicaMetal #MetalMusic

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

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

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

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

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

CONFLUX (Canadà) presenta nou àlbum: "In the Wake of Saturn" #Conflux #TechnicalDeathMetal #Juny2026 #Canadà #NouÀlbum #Metall #Metal #MúsicaMetal #MetalMusic

CONFLUX (Canadà) presenta nou àlbum: "In the Wake of Saturn" #Conflux #TechnicalDeathMetal #Juny2026 #Canadà #NouÀlbum #Metall #Metal #MúsicaMetal #MetalMusic

A KARMIC GRAY (Estats Units) presenta nou àlbum: "Quintessence Theorem" #AKarmicGray #Metalcore #TechnicalDeathMetal #Various #Juny2026 #EstatsUnits #NouÀlbum #Metall #Metal #MúsicaMetal #MetalMusic

Goreworm – Miasmic Solitude Review

After releasing debut LP Prodigy of the Grotesque in 2020, Canada’s Goreworm re-emerges from their burrow with follow-up…
#NewsBeep #News #Music #2.5 #2026 #AbysmalDawn #Archspire #CanadianMetal #CannibalCorpse #DeathMetal #Entertainment #Goreworm #Jun26 #MiasmicSolitude #Necrophagist #Obscura #review #Reviews #technicaldeathmetal #TheBlackDahliaMurder #TranscendingObscurityRecords #UK #UnitedKingdom #ValeofPnath
https://www.newsbeep.com/uk/639146/

Goreworm – Miasmic Solitude Review

After releasing debut LP Prodigy of the Grotesque in 2020, Canada’s Goreworm re-emerges from their burrow with follow-up…
#NewsBeep #News #Music #2.5 #2026 #AbysmalDawn #Archspire #AU #Australia #CanadianMetal #CannibalCorpse #DeathMetal #Entertainment #Goreworm #Jun26 #MiasmicSolitude #Necrophagist #Obscura #review #reviews #TechnicalDeathMetal #TheBlackDahliaMurder #TranscendingObscurityRecords #ValeofPnath
https://www.newsbeep.com/au/736440/

Goreworm – Miasmic Solitude Review

After releasing debut LP Prodigy of the Grotesque in 2020, Canada’s Goreworm re-emerges from their burrow with follow-up…
#NewsBeep #News #Music #2.5 #2026 #AbysmalDawn #Archspire #AU #Australia #CanadianMetal #CannibalCorpse #DeathMetal #Entertainment #Goreworm #Jun26 #MiasmicSolitude #Necrophagist #Obscura #review #reviews #TechnicalDeathMetal #TheBlackDahliaMurder #TranscendingObscurityRecords #ValeofPnath
https://www.newsbeep.com/au/736440/

Goreworm – Miasmic Solitude Review

After releasing debut LP Prodigy of the Grotesque in 2020, Canada’s Goreworm re-emerges from their burrow with follow-up…
#NewsBeep #News #Music #2.5 #2026 #AbysmalDawn #Archspire #CA #Canada #CanadianMetal #CannibalCorpse #DeathMetal #Entertainment #Goreworm #Jun26 #MiasmicSolitude #Necrophagist #Obscura #review #reviews #TechnicalDeathMetal #TheBlackDahliaMurder #TranscendingObscurityRecords #ValeofPnath
https://www.newsbeep.com/ca/736507/

https://www.europesays.com/ie/534990/ Goreworm – Miasmic Solitude Review #25 #2026 #AbysmalDawn #Archspire #CanadianMetal #CannibalCorpse #DeathMetal #Éire #Entertainment #Goreworm #IE #Ireland #Jun26 #MiasmicSolitude #Music #Necrophagist #Obscura #Review #Reviews #TechnicalDeathMetal #TheBlackDahliaMurder #TranscendingObscurityRecords #ValeOfPnath