#technicaldeathmetal — Public Fediverse posts

ARCHITECT OF SETH (França) presenta nou single: "Fortress of Injuries" #ArchitectOfSeth #TechnicalDeathMetal #Setembre2026 #França #NouSingle #Metall #Metal #MúsicaMetal #MetalMusic

ARCHITECT OF SETH (França) presenta nou single: "Fortress of Injuries" #ArchitectOfSeth #TechnicalDeathMetal #Setembre2026 #França #NouSingle #Metall #Metal #MúsicaMetal #MetalMusic

MONOCHROMATIC RESIDUA (Estats Units) presenta nou EP: "Forbidden Kaleidoscopic Abomination" #MonochromaticResidua #TechnicalDeathMetal #Setembre2026 #EstatsUnits #NouEp #Metall #Metal #MúsicaMetal #MetalMusic

MONOCHROMATIC RESIDUA (Estats Units) presenta nou EP: "Forbidden Kaleidoscopic Abomination" #MonochromaticResidua #TechnicalDeathMetal #Setembre2026 #EstatsUnits #NouEp #Metall #Metal #MúsicaMetal #MetalMusic

Aucausal Intrusion – Vomit Meditations Review

In an act of unconscious serendipity, shortly before beginning this review, I re-read Jean-Paul Sartre’s Nausea. The seren…
#NewsBeep #News #Music #2026 #3.5 #AcausalIntrusion #AdNauseum #AmericanMetal #BlackMetal #CosmicPutrefaction #DeathMetal #DissonantDeathMetal #Entertainment #experimentaldeathmetal #I #Portal #review #Reviews #Sep26 #technicaldeathmetal #UK #UnitedKingdom #VoidhangerRecords #VomitMeditations
https://www.newsbeep.com/uk/760414/

https://www.europesays.com/uk/1187169/ Aucausal Intrusion – Vomit Meditations Review #2026 #35 #AcausalIntrusion #AdNauseum #AmericanMetal #BlackMetal #CosmicPutrefaction #DeathMetal #DissonantDeathMetal #Entertainment #ExperimentalDeathMetal #I #music #Portal #Review #Reviews #Sep26 #TechnicalDeathMetal #UK #UnitedKingdom #VoidhangerRecords #VomitMeditations

ACAUSAL INTRUSION (Estats Units) presenta nou àlbum: "Vomit Meditations" #AcausalIntrusion #TechnicalDeathMetal #Setembre2026 #EstatsUnits #NouÀlbum #Metall #Metal #MúsicaMetal #MetalMusic

ACAUSAL INTRUSION (Estats Units) presenta nou àlbum: "Vomit Meditations" #AcausalIntrusion #TechnicalDeathMetal #Setembre2026 #EstatsUnits #NouÀlbum #Metall #Metal #MúsicaMetal #MetalMusic

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Given its proclivity for scathing speeds, tough turnarounds, and blistering double bass, death metal contains a surprising number of drummer-vocalists. There’s Chris Reifert’s foundational feats in Autopsy, Mike Browning’s total-body tour de force on The Key (Nocturnus), and Max Klebanoff’s cookie-monstered kit-mashing in Tomb Mold. Add Andrea Feltrin of Miscreance to the list of specimens who helm the drums while screaming like a maniac. His Northern Italian quartet garnered well-deserved hype with their thrashy, old-school brand of technical death metal on debut Convergence (2022).1 For its sophomore outing, Miscreance gets bolder with a concept record; the band describes Reminiscence as a ‘lost album’ from ‘an unknown civilization that’s both futuristic and extremely primitive.’ Feltrin thus faces the unenviable task of carrying the narrative and rhythmic weight of Reminiscence, a forward-looking foray into vintage thrash-death.

Fortunately, three killer musicians fill out Miscreance, evoking the genre’s genesis and present. In lockstep with Feltrin’s lethal limbs is bassist Jean-Claude Rossingnol, whose Rickenbacker rattles with a deliciously fat n’ clangy tone.2 His punchy plucks, scintillating slaps, and stimulating slides unquestionably conjure the presence of Atheist. Guitar duo Andrea Granauro and Tommaso Cappelletti forge Miscreance’s frontline, discharging a repertoire of spidery riffs, grinding gallops, and whammy-barred solos. Their symbolic sound patterns summon the inhuman fretboard gymnastics of proggy Death. Together, the members of Miscreance craft a more-than-worthy iteration of old-school technical death metal, with sharp, clean, and vibrant production. Reminiscence pays homage to a classic like Sadus’s A Vision of Misery (1992), and it can dance with a greenhorn like Tomb Mold’s The Enduring Spirit (2023).

It is the rhythm section, though, that supplies Miscreance with its star power. Often, the bass in technical (death) metal comes off as merely another melodic instrument, and Rossingnol certainly adds color at key moments (“Synaptic Corpse Dissection”). The real joys of Reminiscene, however, bloom when Rossingnol and Feltrin beat the listener over the head with primal rhythmic hooks. A recurring motif in “Oracle’s Rift” best exemplifies such wallopings. Feltrin’s accented drumrolls lock in with Rossingnol’s voluminous bass slaps, acting as a kind of non-melodic chorus for the song. The off-kilter yet movement-inducing interplay between the bass and drums forms the fabric of Reminiscence, tapping into the brain of a lizard with an advanced degree. With a little help from this feral fabric, the knotty guitar hooks stitched by Granauro and Cappelletti shine even more.

Fairly consistently, Reminiscence slays across its 38 minutes. Opener “Trait d’Union” maps a template of elements that reverberate throughout. Its tribal bongos set a primal tone that periodically pops up as the album soars through its technical journey. Additionally, the opener dons over the music deep voiceovers that, while a bit goofy, develop a sense of narrative trajectory. “Synaptic Cortex Dissection” stands as a mid-album high point—it culminates with some absolutely deranged, absolutely delightful guitar harmonies. The back half of Reminiscence keeps the momentum and quality high, even if some moments shout for breathing room (the bass groove in “Symbiosis,” the cosmic solo in “Zenith of a Dying Sun”). Pseudo-instrumental “Mirage” is a bangin’ closer, though, somehow upping the ante on an album living in the fast lane. Feltrin’s maniacal rasps amplify the unhinged volatility, recalling mid-career Chuck and Damian Herring’s harshes (Horrendous). I love how Feltrin barely sputters out all the lyrics as he screeches like an eagle. Still, more lyrical legibility would cement Reminiscence’s concept about ‘primordial extraterrestrials [that] have achieved total neural unity’ but are tempted by ‘innate wickedness.’3

As carpenters of thrashy, old-school technical death metal, Miscreance furnish a sophomore album that all but nails it. Propelled by an exciting bass/drum duo and rounded out by an equally imposing guitar pair, Reminiscence delivers everything fans of this genre are looking for, with verve. Miscreance could stand to be more unique, but they show signs of developing something singular in the future. Indeed, this Italian quintet has only just begun to discover its potential. One day, I look forward to reminiscing about Miscreance’s sophomore album as the band’s stepping-stone to the top of the death-thrash world.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Season of Mist
Websites: Instagram | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: August 28th, 2026

The Absolution Sequence – Dread Cycle

Tasmania—outside of their famous adorable screaming murder marsupials, I know basically nothing about the island. Recently, though, Tasmania’s…
#NewsBeep #News #Music #2026 #4.0 #Archspire #AU #Aug26 #Australia #AustralianMetal #BleedingArtCollective #BloodBlastDistribution #Complexant #DreadCycle #Entertainment #Meshuggah #review #reviews #TechnicalDeathMetal #TheAbsolutionSequence
https://www.newsbeep.com/au/852858/

The Absolution Sequence – Dread Cycle

Tasmania—outside of their famous adorable screaming murder marsupials, I know basically nothing about the island. Recently, though, Tasmania’s…
#NewsBeep #News #Music #2026 #4.0 #Archspire #AU #Aug26 #Australia #AustralianMetal #BleedingArtCollective #BloodBlastDistribution #Complexant #DreadCycle #Entertainment #Meshuggah #review #reviews #TechnicalDeathMetal #TheAbsolutionSequence
https://www.newsbeep.com/au/852858/

https://www.europesays.com/ie/633538/ The Absolution Sequence – Dread Cycle #2026 #40 #Archspire #Aug26 #AustralianMetal #BleedingArtCollective #BloodBlastDistribution #Complexant #DreadCycle #Éire #Entertainment #IE #Ireland #Meshuggah #Music #Review #Reviews #TechnicalDeathMetal #TheAbsolutionSequence

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Insane album

https://thaetas.bandcamp.com/album/the-irredeemable-age

#deathmetal #brutaldeathmetal #bandcamp #metal #newyork #technicaldeathmetal

Psycroptic have been a cornerstone in the tech death scene since the turn of the century. Their 2003 classic, The Scepter of the Ancients, is a legendary record that helped define the genre.1 Since then, these Tasmanian devils have churned out seven albums of inventive tech death, setting a standard that few have matched and even fewer have surpassed. 2015’s self-titled release marked the point at which Psycroptic truly settled into their modern form. And although Kronos’ review of follow-up As the Kingdom Drowns found it to be the stronger record, I’ve always had a soft spot for the self-titled effort. 2023’s Divine Council, on the other hand, was a record that proved to be comparatively modest. Enter The Pulse of Annihilation, the group’s ninth record.2 With Kronos relinquishing his tenured stewardship of the quintet’s output, he now passes the scepter to me.

From the flashy, virtuosic riffage of Joe Haley’s guitar work, to brother David Haley’s impossibly precise drumming and Jason Peppiatt’s steadfast bark, every element on The Pulse of Annihilation is undeniably Psycroptic. The caravanning acoustic passages that helped define the group’s self-titled record resurface again on “A Sword of Me” and “Our Pillars Fall,” providing moments of calm before torrents of syncopated riffing and lightning-fast scales slam the accelerator to the floor. “To Embrace This Curse,” “Annihilation Pulse” and “Gathering a Venomous Herd” remove subtlety altogether, immediately launching into frenetic picking and turbocharged double bass patterns that aim to tear your face off and succeed in spades. Returning from Divine Council is the twin vocal attack of Peppiatt and Jason Keyser (Origin), who once again split the record’s roars and growls. Fortunately, the dramatic clean belting that occasionally felt forced on prior records has been dialed back, allowing the vocals to sit more naturally within the material, even if they remain far from The Pulse of Annihilation’s main attraction.

Psycroptic have always placed their trust in Joe Haley’s inhuman ability to write some of the most badass riffs on the planet, and The Pulse of Annihilation is no exception. His fretwork twists and turns through cuts like “Foraging the Crown,” “No Blade of Grass,” and “To Embrace This Curse,” darting in multiple directions at once while locking into his brother’s rhythmic prowess. And just when the material threatens to disappear into a maze of technicality, Haley reels it back with a steady stream of memorable, hook-laden phrasing. “Gathering a Venomous Herd” is a legit Song O’ the Year candidate thanks to the guitar work alone, giving bands like Gorod a run for their money. Its serpentine passages, mechanical bends, squeals, and hammering scales unfold with surgical precision, creating a labyrinth of thrashy Revocation-esque shredding that never gets old. Likewise, the rhythmic pummel of “To Embrace This Curse” is impossible to ignore, as Haley unleashes a barrage of intricately woven guitar patterns that pound your ears to dust with sheer groove.

But the real secret sauce to The Pulse of Annihilation is its consistency. In fact, this is one of Psycroptic’s most consistently entertaining records of their modern era. While still operating within relatively traditional song structures, the material on The Pulse of Annihilation feels leaner, more urgent, and more energized than much of Psycroptic’s recent output. Transitions feel smoother, and the arrangements flow more naturally rather than being stitched together. It’s as if they stripped their sound back to its essentials, allowing their chemistry to guide the songwriting rather than getting lost in excess. That said, not every track hits with quite the same force. Mid-album cuts like “Our Pillars Fall” and “No Time for the Weak” don’t quite hit as hard as The Pulse of Annihilation’s stronger tracks, but they’re far from filler. Both songs still showcase noticeably sharper pacing and construction than much of Divine Council, and there’s more than enough creativity on display to carry you through to the title track “Annihilation Pulse.”

If Divine Council left you wondering whether Psycroptic were beginning to plateau, The Pulse of Annihilation puts those concerns to rest. By tightening their songwriting and focusing on groove without sacrificing their trademark technicality, Psycroptic have crafted one of the most rewarding releases of its modern era. After more than two decades in the game, The Pulse of Annihilation proves that these Tasmanians have plenty left in the tank and they’re showing no signs of slowing down anytime soon.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Metal Blade
Websites: psycroptic.bandcamp.com | psycroptic.com | facebook.com/psycroptic
Releases Worldwide: July 17th, 2026

Psycroptic have been a cornerstone in the tech death scene since the turn of the century. Their 2003 classic, The Scepter of the Ancients, is a legendary record that helped define the genre.1 Since then, these Tasmanian devils have churned out seven albums of inventive tech death, setting a standard that few have matched and even fewer have surpassed. 2015’s self-titled release marked the point at which Psycroptic truly settled into their modern form. And although Kronos’ review of follow-up As the Kingdom Drowns found it to be the stronger record, I’ve always had a soft spot for the self-titled effort. 2023’s Divine Council, on the other hand, was a record that proved to be comparatively modest. Enter The Pulse of Annihilation, the group’s ninth record.2 With Kronos relinquishing his tenured stewardship of the quintet’s output, he now passes the scepter to me.

From the flashy, virtuosic riffage of Joe Haley’s guitar work, to brother David Haley’s impossibly precise drumming and Jason Peppiatt’s steadfast bark, every element on The Pulse of Annihilation is undeniably Psycroptic. The caravanning acoustic passages that helped define the group’s self-titled record resurface again on “A Sword of Me” and “Our Pillars Fall,” providing moments of calm before torrents of syncopated riffing and lightning-fast scales slam the accelerator to the floor. “To Embrace This Curse,” “Annihilation Pulse” and “Gathering a Venomous Herd” remove subtlety altogether, immediately launching into frenetic picking and turbocharged double bass patterns that aim to tear your face off and succeed in spades. Returning from Divine Council is the twin vocal attack of Peppiatt and Jason Keyser (Origin), who once again split the record’s roars and growls. Fortunately, the dramatic clean belting that occasionally felt forced on prior records has been dialed back, allowing the vocals to sit more naturally within the material, even if they remain far from The Pulse of Annihilation’s main attraction.

Psycroptic have always placed their trust in Joe Haley’s inhuman ability to write some of the most badass riffs on the planet, and The Pulse of Annihilation is no exception. His fretwork twists and turns through cuts like “Foraging the Crown,” “No Blade of Grass,” and “To Embrace This Curse,” darting in multiple directions at once while locking into his brother’s rhythmic prowess. And just when the material threatens to disappear into a maze of technicality, Haley reels it back with a steady stream of memorable, hook-laden phrasing. “Gathering a Venomous Herd” is a legit Song O’ the Year candidate thanks to the guitar work alone, giving bands like Gorod a run for their money. Its serpentine passages, mechanical bends, squeals, and hammering scales unfold with surgical precision, creating a labyrinth of thrashy Revocation-esque shredding that never gets old. Likewise, the rhythmic pummel of “To Embrace This Curse” is impossible to ignore, as Haley unleashes a barrage of intricately woven guitar patterns that pound your ears to dust with sheer groove.

But the real secret sauce to The Pulse of Annihilation is its consistency. In fact, this is one of Psycroptic’s most consistently entertaining records of their modern era. While still operating within relatively traditional song structures, the material on The Pulse of Annihilation feels leaner, more urgent, and more energized than much of Psycroptic’s recent output. Transitions feel smoother, and the arrangements flow more naturally rather than being stitched together. It’s as if they stripped their sound back to its essentials, allowing their chemistry to guide the songwriting rather than getting lost in excess. That said, not every track hits with quite the same force. Mid-album cuts like “Our Pillars Fall” and “No Time for the Weak” don’t quite hit as hard as The Pulse of Annihilation’s stronger tracks, but they’re far from filler. Both songs still showcase noticeably sharper pacing and construction than much of Divine Council, and there’s more than enough creativity on display to carry you through to the title track “Annihilation Pulse.”

If Divine Council left you wondering whether Psycroptic were beginning to plateau, The Pulse of Annihilation puts those concerns to rest. By tightening their songwriting and focusing on groove without sacrificing their trademark technicality, Psycroptic have crafted one of the most rewarding releases of its modern era. After more than two decades in the game, The Pulse of Annihilation proves that these Tasmanians have plenty left in the tank and they’re showing no signs of slowing down anytime soon.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Metal Blade
Websites: psycroptic.bandcamp.com | psycroptic.com | facebook.com/psycroptic
Releases Worldwide: July 17th, 2026

Psycroptic have been a cornerstone in the tech death scene since the turn of the century. Their 2003 classic, The Scepter of the Ancients, is a legendary record that helped define the genre.1 Since then, these Tasmanian devils have churned out seven albums of inventive tech death, setting a standard that few have matched and even fewer have surpassed. 2015’s self-titled release marked the point at which Psycroptic truly settled into their modern form. And although Kronos’ review of follow-up As the Kingdom Drowns found it to be the stronger record, I’ve always had a soft spot for the self-titled effort. 2023’s Divine Council, on the other hand, was a record that proved to be comparatively modest. Enter The Pulse of Annihilation, the group’s ninth record.2 With Kronos relinquishing his tenured stewardship of the quintet’s output, he now passes the scepter to me.

From the flashy, virtuosic riffage of Joe Haley’s guitar work, to brother David Haley’s impossibly precise drumming and Jason Peppiatt’s steadfast bark, every element on The Pulse of Annihilation is undeniably Psycroptic. The caravanning acoustic passages that helped define the group’s self-titled record resurface again on “A Sword of Me” and “Our Pillars Fall,” providing moments of calm before torrents of syncopated riffing and lightning-fast scales slam the accelerator to the floor. “To Embrace This Curse,” “Annihilation Pulse” and “Gathering a Venomous Herd” remove subtlety altogether, immediately launching into frenetic picking and turbocharged double bass patterns that aim to tear your face off and succeed in spades. Returning from Divine Council is the twin vocal attack of Peppiatt and Jason Keyser (Origin), who once again split the record’s roars and growls. Fortunately, the dramatic clean belting that occasionally felt forced on prior records has been dialed back, allowing the vocals to sit more naturally within the material, even if they remain far from The Pulse of Annihilation’s main attraction.

Psycroptic have always placed their trust in Joe Haley’s inhuman ability to write some of the most badass riffs on the planet, and The Pulse of Annihilation is no exception. His fretwork twists and turns through cuts like “Foraging the Crown,” “No Blade of Grass,” and “To Embrace This Curse,” darting in multiple directions at once while locking into his brother’s rhythmic prowess. And just when the material threatens to disappear into a maze of technicality, Haley reels it back with a steady stream of memorable, hook-laden phrasing. “Gathering a Venomous Herd” is a legit Song O’ the Year candidate thanks to the guitar work alone, giving bands like Gorod a run for their money. Its serpentine passages, mechanical bends, squeals, and hammering scales unfold with surgical precision, creating a labyrinth of thrashy Revocation-esque shredding that never gets old. Likewise, the rhythmic pummel of “To Embrace This Curse” is impossible to ignore, as Haley unleashes a barrage of intricately woven guitar patterns that pound your ears to dust with sheer groove.

But the real secret sauce to The Pulse of Annihilation is its consistency. In fact, this is one of Psycroptic’s most consistently entertaining records of their modern era. While still operating within relatively traditional song structures, the material on The Pulse of Annihilation feels leaner, more urgent, and more energized than much of Psycroptic’s recent output. Transitions feel smoother, and the arrangements flow more naturally rather than being stitched together. It’s as if they stripped their sound back to its essentials, allowing their chemistry to guide the songwriting rather than getting lost in excess. That said, not every track hits with quite the same force. Mid-album cuts like “Our Pillars Fall” and “No Time for the Weak” don’t quite hit as hard as The Pulse of Annihilation’s stronger tracks, but they’re far from filler. Both songs still showcase noticeably sharper pacing and construction than much of Divine Council, and there’s more than enough creativity on display to carry you through to the title track “Annihilation Pulse.”

If Divine Council left you wondering whether Psycroptic were beginning to plateau, The Pulse of Annihilation puts those concerns to rest. By tightening their songwriting and focusing on groove without sacrificing their trademark technicality, Psycroptic have crafted one of the most rewarding releases of its modern era. After more than two decades in the game, The Pulse of Annihilation proves that these Tasmanians have plenty left in the tank and they’re showing no signs of slowing down anytime soon.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Metal Blade
Websites: psycroptic.bandcamp.com | psycroptic.com | facebook.com/psycroptic
Releases Worldwide: July 17th, 2026

Psycroptic have been a cornerstone in the tech death scene since the turn of the century. Their 2003 classic, The Scepter of the Ancients, is a legendary record that helped define the genre.1 Since then, these Tasmanian devils have churned out seven albums of inventive tech death, setting a standard that few have matched and even fewer have surpassed. 2015’s self-titled release marked the point at which Psycroptic truly settled into their modern form. And although Kronos’ review of follow-up As the Kingdom Drowns found it to be the stronger record, I’ve always had a soft spot for the self-titled effort. 2023’s Divine Council, on the other hand, was a record that proved to be comparatively modest. Enter The Pulse of Annihilation, the group’s ninth record.2 With Kronos relinquishing his tenured stewardship of the quintet’s output, he now passes the scepter to me.

From the flashy, virtuosic riffage of Joe Haley’s guitar work, to brother David Haley’s impossibly precise drumming and Jason Peppiatt’s steadfast bark, every element on The Pulse of Annihilation is undeniably Psycroptic. The caravanning acoustic passages that helped define the group’s self-titled record resurface again on “A Sword of Me” and “Our Pillars Fall,” providing moments of calm before torrents of syncopated riffing and lightning-fast scales slam the accelerator to the floor. “To Embrace This Curse,” “Annihilation Pulse” and “Gathering a Venomous Herd” remove subtlety altogether, immediately launching into frenetic picking and turbocharged double bass patterns that aim to tear your face off and succeed in spades. Returning from Divine Council is the twin vocal attack of Peppiatt and Jason Keyser (Origin), who once again split the record’s roars and growls. Fortunately, the dramatic clean belting that occasionally felt forced on prior records has been dialed back, allowing the vocals to sit more naturally within the material, even if they remain far from The Pulse of Annihilation’s main attraction.

Psycroptic have always placed their trust in Joe Haley’s inhuman ability to write some of the most badass riffs on the planet, and The Pulse of Annihilation is no exception. His fretwork twists and turns through cuts like “Foraging the Crown,” “No Blade of Grass,” and “To Embrace This Curse,” darting in multiple directions at once while locking into his brother’s rhythmic prowess. And just when the material threatens to disappear into a maze of technicality, Haley reels it back with a steady stream of memorable, hook-laden phrasing. “Gathering a Venomous Herd” is a legit Song O’ the Year candidate thanks to the guitar work alone, giving bands like Gorod a run for their money. Its serpentine passages, mechanical bends, squeals, and hammering scales unfold with surgical precision, creating a labyrinth of thrashy Revocation-esque shredding that never gets old. Likewise, the rhythmic pummel of “To Embrace This Curse” is impossible to ignore, as Haley unleashes a barrage of intricately woven guitar patterns that pound your ears to dust with sheer groove.

But the real secret sauce to The Pulse of Annihilation is its consistency. In fact, this is one of Psycroptic’s most consistently entertaining records of their modern era. While still operating within relatively traditional song structures, the material on The Pulse of Annihilation feels leaner, more urgent, and more energized than much of Psycroptic’s recent output. Transitions feel smoother, and the arrangements flow more naturally rather than being stitched together. It’s as if they stripped their sound back to its essentials, allowing their chemistry to guide the songwriting rather than getting lost in excess. That said, not every track hits with quite the same force. Mid-album cuts like “Our Pillars Fall” and “No Time for the Weak” don’t quite hit as hard as The Pulse of Annihilation’s stronger tracks, but they’re far from filler. Both songs still showcase noticeably sharper pacing and construction than much of Divine Council, and there’s more than enough creativity on display to carry you through to the title track “Annihilation Pulse.”

If Divine Council left you wondering whether Psycroptic were beginning to plateau, The Pulse of Annihilation puts those concerns to rest. By tightening their songwriting and focusing on groove without sacrificing their trademark technicality, Psycroptic have crafted one of the most rewarding releases of its modern era. After more than two decades in the game, The Pulse of Annihilation proves that these Tasmanians have plenty left in the tank and they’re showing no signs of slowing down anytime soon.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Metal Blade
Websites: psycroptic.bandcamp.com | psycroptic.com | facebook.com/psycroptic
Releases Worldwide: July 17th, 2026

Psycroptic have been a cornerstone in the tech death scene since the turn of the century. Their 2003 classic, The Scepter of the Ancients, is a legendary record that helped define the genre.1 Since then, these Tasmanian devils have churned out seven albums of inventive tech death, setting a standard that few have matched and even fewer have surpassed. 2015’s self-titled release marked the point at which Psycroptic truly settled into their modern form. And although Kronos’ review of follow-up As the Kingdom Drowns found it to be the stronger record, I’ve always had a soft spot for the self-titled effort. 2023’s Divine Council, on the other hand, was a record that proved to be comparatively modest. Enter The Pulse of Annihilation, the group’s ninth record.2 With Kronos relinquishing his tenured stewardship of the quintet’s output, he now passes the scepter to me.

From the flashy, virtuosic riffage of Joe Haley’s guitar work, to brother David Haley’s impossibly precise drumming and Jason Peppiatt’s steadfast bark, every element on The Pulse of Annihilation is undeniably Psycroptic. The caravanning acoustic passages that helped define the group’s self-titled record resurface again on “A Sword of Me” and “Our Pillars Fall,” providing moments of calm before torrents of syncopated riffing and lightning-fast scales slam the accelerator to the floor. “To Embrace This Curse,” “Annihilation Pulse” and “Gathering a Venomous Herd” remove subtlety altogether, immediately launching into frenetic picking and turbocharged double bass patterns that aim to tear your face off and succeed in spades. Returning from Divine Council is the twin vocal attack of Peppiatt and Jason Keyser (Origin), who once again split the record’s roars and growls. Fortunately, the dramatic clean belting that occasionally felt forced on prior records has been dialed back, allowing the vocals to sit more naturally within the material, even if they remain far from The Pulse of Annihilation’s main attraction.

Psycroptic have always placed their trust in Joe Haley’s inhuman ability to write some of the most badass riffs on the planet, and The Pulse of Annihilation is no exception. His fretwork twists and turns through cuts like “Foraging the Crown,” “No Blade of Grass,” and “To Embrace This Curse,” darting in multiple directions at once while locking into his brother’s rhythmic prowess. And just when the material threatens to disappear into a maze of technicality, Haley reels it back with a steady stream of memorable, hook-laden phrasing. “Gathering a Venomous Herd” is a legit Song O’ the Year candidate thanks to the guitar work alone, giving bands like Gorod a run for their money. Its serpentine passages, mechanical bends, squeals, and hammering scales unfold with surgical precision, creating a labyrinth of thrashy Revocation-esque shredding that never gets old. Likewise, the rhythmic pummel of “To Embrace This Curse” is impossible to ignore, as Haley unleashes a barrage of intricately woven guitar patterns that pound your ears to dust with sheer groove.

But the real secret sauce to The Pulse of Annihilation is its consistency. In fact, this is one of Psycroptic’s most consistently entertaining records of their modern era. While still operating within relatively traditional song structures, the material on The Pulse of Annihilation feels leaner, more urgent, and more energized than much of Psycroptic’s recent output. Transitions feel smoother, and the arrangements flow more naturally rather than being stitched together. It’s as if they stripped their sound back to its essentials, allowing their chemistry to guide the songwriting rather than getting lost in excess. That said, not every track hits with quite the same force. Mid-album cuts like “Our Pillars Fall” and “No Time for the Weak” don’t quite hit as hard as The Pulse of Annihilation’s stronger tracks, but they’re far from filler. Both songs still showcase noticeably sharper pacing and construction than much of Divine Council, and there’s more than enough creativity on display to carry you through to the title track “Annihilation Pulse.”

If Divine Council left you wondering whether Psycroptic were beginning to plateau, The Pulse of Annihilation puts those concerns to rest. By tightening their songwriting and focusing on groove without sacrificing their trademark technicality, Psycroptic have crafted one of the most rewarding releases of its modern era. After more than two decades in the game, The Pulse of Annihilation proves that these Tasmanians have plenty left in the tank and they’re showing no signs of slowing down anytime soon.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Metal Blade
Websites: psycroptic.bandcamp.com | psycroptic.com | facebook.com/psycroptic
Releases Worldwide: July 17th, 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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Seems like the Filtration system is overburdened once again. Normally, my minions have to scavenge much longer to pick things up this early in the year, but 2026 is proving to be rich in moderately precious metallic ore. That just means I gotta push my team even harder to pull greater loads of filth from the ducts!

As I send them in for yet another round, please enjoy the spoils thus far exploited. BEHOLD!

Kenstrosity’s Tattered Tome

Overtoun // Death Drive Anthropology [February 13th, 2026 – Time to Kill Records]

Chilean progressive death thrash outfit Overtoun is what you get when you mix old school Death and Atheist with the proggier side of Pestilence, then amp the thrash up by a half turn. At a lofty 50 minutes, you’d expect third release Death Drive Anthropology to drag on, but to make that assumption is to criminally underestimate Overtoun’s creativity and versatility. Opening up the throttle in fine form, the one-two punch of “What Unites All (ft. Max Phelps) and “The Final Beat” manages to encompass many of these Chileans’ songwriting and performance skills in a scant 10 minutes. More introspective, nuanced songwriting takes center stage throughout Anthropology’s midsection, balancing smart melodies and minimalist atmosphere with complex guitar layering, proggy structures, and shreddy wizardry (“Dur Khrod,” “Jade, Gold, Obsidian,” “Yurei,” “Weeping”). The three-part “The Waves Suite” suite adds a mystical character to the affair that blends remarkably well with Overtoun’s more overt political messaging and emotional textures, which helps carry the record through its lengthy runtime without causing fatigue. It’s a neat record that’s modestly blemished by a bass presence that begs for more weight and wildness, especially considering the raw talent on hand. Nonetheless, if you’re looking for a creative, thoughtful, and sophisticated entry into the death/thrash progosphere, Death Drive Anthropology makes a strong case.

Andy-War-Hall’s Primordial Pick-Up

The Grand Myth // Of Vultures and Dragons [February 26th, 2026 – Suncrusher Recordings]

I have a grossly limited capacity for seriousness. Yeah, I like my death metal progressive, technical, and thoughtful, much the way Brandon Bordman’s The Grand Myth deliver it on their latest record, Of Vultures and Dragons, but sometimes I just want fun, too. Of Vultures and Dragons, an adaptation of Ethan Pettus’ novel series Primitive War1 in which a rescue team searches a Vietnamese jungle for a missing platoon of Green Berets and fights for their lives against dinosaurs, has fun in spades. Utilizing a many-layered guitar attack (“Symbiotic Death”), shifting and propulsive rhythms (“Through the River Styx”), a wide cast of voice actors for brief narrative bits2 and surprisingly bright tones (“Agony”), The Grand Myth’s approach to progressive death metal isn’t revolutionary, but it’s deeply refreshing and engaging regardless. Though an absolute blast, The Grand Myth doesn’t spew embarrassingly stupid levels of campiness with their sci-fi dinosaur theming like Victorius. Rather, Of Vultures and Dragons can be fairly emotionally effective at times thanks to Bordman’s emotive clean/harsh vocals and elaborate soloing (“Pyre,” “Agony”). Nobody asks about your favorite dinosaur anymore,3 so feed your inner kid with The Grand Myth’s Of Vultures and Dragons now!

Saunders’ Sunken Shards

Puscifer// Normal Isn’t [February 6th, 2026 – Alchemy Recordings]

After losing track of recent offerings, I reacquainted myself with the latest LP from Puscifer, leaving me pleasantly surprised in the aftermath. The project featuring Tool/A Perfect Circle frontman Maynard James Keenan returned for their first hit out since 2020’s Existential Reckoning. Normal Isn’t finds the shape-shifting project embracing its quirky, gothy industrial rock and electronic elements through an angsty filter of guitar-driven arty rock, post-punk, and infectious songcraft. Age should not weary Maynard, as he still sounds angry, cynical, and on point vocally through a mostly engaging, catchy bag of tunes. The dueling vocal melodies with collaborator Carina Round’s ghostly singing work a treat amidst jittery beats, angular riffs and strong electronic overtones. Rhythmically, it is an interesting ride, drummer Gunnar Olsen putting in a top-notch performance, while there is a vaguely progressive edge underlying the hook-centric songwriting. Opener “Thrust” sets the album in motion with sticky hooks, a darkly humorous, unhinged Maynard performance, and a dose of spite. Other key highlights include “Bad Wolf,” “Self Evident,” “A Public Stoning,” and “ImpetuoUs.” Puscifer made a fine return with Normal Isn’t.

Jack Harlon & The Dead Crows // Inexorable Opposites [February 6th, 2026 – Magnetic Eye Records]

You’ve gotta love a sneaky name drop from our trusty commentariat. It has led to many great discoveries over the years. On this occasion, one of our dear commenters enlightened me to Melbourne psych-blues-doomers Jack Harlon & the Dead Crows with fourth LP, Inexorable Opposites. And it didn’t take long absorbing this latest slab of rustic Aussie coolness to be struck by the album’s slow-burning, addictive power, and gritty tones. Boasting an expansive, rugged sound built on layers of distortion and a weighty blend of psych-drenched blues and doom heaviness. Jack Harlon & the Dead Crows features old school, outlaw-driven lyrical content from mastermind and vocalist/guitarist Tim Coutts-Smith, meshing fictional tales of woe and adventure of character Jack Harlon, with relatable real-life struggles. Through the fuzz, thick jammy vibes, and Coutts-Smith distorted, menacing Aussie drawl, catchy songcraft shines through the muck and psych haze. From the tense, stoner-infected grit and catchy hooks of opener “Moss,” through to the stormy outback balladry of closer “To Die,” Inexorable Opposites is a hard-hitting, riffy delight, further evidenced through scorched earth, infectious cuts like “Venomous,” “Seer,” and the trippy, drug-addled “Mt. Macedon.”

Grin Reaper’s Reaped Recluse

Cold Communion // Monuments to Ruin [February 13th, 2026 – Self Released]

Melodic death/doom isn’t a genre I dabble in often, but every now and again, one of its bands thwarts my defenses and wraps their tendrils around my precious listening time. Durham, North Carolina’s Cold Communion is one such band, featuring Barre Gambling (Daylight Dies) on guitar and Tim Rowland (Alchemy of Flesh, Silent Vigil) on everything else. If that sounds like an unfair split, take a spin and reassess, because Gambling’s performance defines Cold Communion’s melancholic character as much as Rowland’s emotive growl. Forgoing any long-form doom epics, Monuments to Ruin’s longest song comes in at five-and-a-half minutes, with the entire album clocking just forty-five. It’s a tidy platter, and both in song composition and mood shares ample common ground with Finnish sadbois Insomnium. Besides Monuments’ superior production, songs like “A Stillness Survival” and “When the Light Breaks” wouldn’t feel out of place on Across the Dark or One for Sorrow. And despite the somber trappings one might expect from doom-adjacency, there’s plenty of lively riffing and solos to find across Monuments to Ruin, adding a touch of boom to the gloom. In the end, Cold Communion doesn’t reinvent the genre or break new ground, but Monuments to Ruin offers a comfy chair by the fireside on a freezing cold day, and I’m perfectly content with that.

Mossgiver // Renewer [February 6th, 2026 – Sij MusicArt]

Atmospheric black metal often contrasts the beautiful with the bestial, typically prioritizing moods over hooks. ‘Twas a delight, then, to unearth Mossgiver’s Renewal, which deftly combines the two. Weaving together hypnotic passages flooded with strings, piano, flute, synths, double bass rolls, and the requisite blackened tremolos,4 Mossgiver’s mastermind Tilen Šimon (Ueldes) delivers the band’s best record to date. Above all, Renewer sounds like a celebration of nature in the vein of Autrest and Cân Bardd, evoking a whispering wind whipping at leaves or sunlight dappling a brook shaded by oaks and maples. Beyond the well-crafted soundtrack for a walk through the woods, Mossgiver etches emotion into the nooks and crannies of Renewer’s five tracks. From rousing string orchestrations (“I Bring the Spring with Me”) to soft-and-heavy tradeoffs pitting clean guitar and pan pipes against distorted guitar and blast beats (“Renewer”), Mossgiver shimmers with a lush backdrop of instrumentation rife with playfulness and pensiveness. The trio of primary songs5 revolve around powerful melodies that evolve over each track’s duration, with assorted instruments coming in and out to push refrains along. Renewer’s brisk thirty-four minutes showcase Mossgiver’s sticky compositions and leave me whistling its melodies for days at a time. Now throw on your hiking boots and get lost in the Moss.

Ossomancer // Banebdjed’s Path [February 28th, 2026 – Esoteric Evocations]

Six-and-a-half years removed from Ossomancer’s debut Artes Magickae, lone wolf and mastermind Kamose returns to tread Banebjed’s Path. Bursting with references to mythology and mysticism, Banebjed’s Path rumbles and shakes with arcane thunder. Although the backdrop and track names might recall the frenzied onslaught of Nile, Ossomancer instead conceives a realm recalling Aeternam, Iotunn, and Naglfar. Despite the scant thirty-four-minute runtime, Banebjed’s Path sprawls across diverse landscapes and textures. Opener “The Ogdoad Arrangement and the Osirian Creation” oscillates between In Flames melodies and a slinky crawl that could pass for a 90s Geddy Lee bass line played over synth injections from Rush’s 80s era. Follow-up track “Sobek – Cosmic Vibrations Devoured” features Kreator-bred riffing, while closing duo “A Sea of Sand, a Silver Star” and “Retraction into Kether” synthesize the ethereal atmospheres of Iotunn with the blackened assault of Naglfar. Through it all, Ossomancer sounds fabulous, as Banebjed’s Path flaunts an enviable DR 8 and a bodacious mix that spotlights its burly bass performance. Ossomancer’s sophomore outing is crammed with meloblack goodies, and though it’s not a long trek, the journey down Banebjed’s Path far transcends its distance.

Tyme’s Danish Dalliance

Ædel Fetich // Ædel Fetich [February 20th, 2026 – Deadbanger Productions]

That blinged-out pink dish-glove-clad hand is what first drew me to Denmark outfit Ædel Fetich’s self-titled debut. Then I clicked play and was taken on one of the more compelling “black” metal rides in recent memory. With roots primarily buried in the soil of the traditional second-wave, Ædel Fetich is rife with moments of rifferous tremolodic speed (“Ridderlig Lider,” “Madras”) and absolutely berserk guitar chaos (“Sort Magi”). There’s a Trhä-like sense of experimentation, and the rawness of the production enhances the oft-changing compositions, which, like weather in the Midwest, often shift on a dime without warning. Luckily, Ædel Fetich’s adept songwriting organically smooths these transitions, which could have easily come off stilted and jarring, but makes drawing direct comparisons to the Ædel Fetich sound difficult, as there’s a spectrum of other influences at play. There are tracks packed with punky punch (“Et Liv Fuld af Fejl,” “Ildtang”) or imbued with folky reverence (“Mit Billede af Dig”) and even some 80s pop—fans of the movie Flashdance shouldn’t have a problem finding the poppy easter egg hiding near the end of “Sort Magi.”6 Far and away the star of the show, however, is singer Skvat, whose performance is filled with as much black metal bravado as it is theatrical exuberance, his arsenal of shrieks, growls, hoots, howls, and operatic baritonations a refreshing treat, akin to if Mike Patton woke up one day deciding to record a Danish black metal album. Bottom line is, I really dig Ædel Fetich and think you will too.

Creeping Ivy’s Ashen Afterthought

Belzebong // The End is High [February 20th, 2026 – Heavy Psych Sounds]

In my humble opinion, lyrics are key to making stoner metal more than novelty music. If you’re referencing reefer in your album art, band name, and song titles, at least keep the reeferisms out of the songs themselves,7 or better yet, avoid vocals altogether. Taking this latter advice to heart is instrumental Polish four-piece Belzebong, who have been at it for almost 20 years now. On The End is High, their fourth full-length, Belzebong deal 35 minutes of fuzzed-out riffery described as “a new sermon for the final days.” While not as highbrow (huh huh) as the instrumental stoner metal of Bongripper, Belzebong are similarly ominous on opener (yes) “Bong & Chain,” which caps its ten-minute burn with creepy, haunting synths. From there, the band settle into material more akin to Bongzilla; sound clips adorn the chill grooves of “420 Horsemen,” “Hempnotized,” and “Reefer Mortis,” which closes things out with some solid Electric Wizard worship. If you instinctively (and understandably) recoil from music with marijuana aesthetics but dig the meditative repetition offered by stoner metal, consider sampling The End is High. It’s not exactly the caricature it advertises itself as.

Baguette’s Bygone Bounty

Sundecay // The Blood Lives Again [February 13th, 2026 – Self Released]

Toronto’s Sundecay has been around for a while. These Canadian doomers spawned sometime prior to 2014, quietly releasing EP material every once in a blue moon. The Blood Lives Again is their first full-length release—their first signs of life since 2018 in general—and the time and care they took to develop their sound and songwriting prowess pays off here in spades. The doom and proto-doom inspirations from Black Sabbath to Saint Vitus are obvious (“Here Comes the Wizard”), complemented by other influences from proto-metal, psychedelic, and progressive music (“Silence Spoken”). The hefty, layered guitars have a nice fuzz without fully landing in stoner territory. Ambitious long-form tracks like “Will Dusk Defy Dawn” flow like water while carrying significant emotional heft. Lastly, a moody, reverb-heavy vocal performance crowns the classic doom trance the band is aiming for. At five tracks and some 43 minutes, The Blood Lives Again is a total vibe and flies by before you’ve even noticed. Fans of the ’70s should take notes!

Temple Balls // Temple Balls [February 13th, 2026 – Frontiers Music]

One of the most authentic ways you can honor rock music tradition is via questionable naming conventions. On an unrelated note, Temple Balls is a Finnish hard rock/glam rock band, and they’re fun as hell! They’re not particularly new around the block, either: the group formed in 2009, and self-titled Temple Balls is already their fifth album since debut Traded Dreams in 2017. 2023’s Avalanche felt like a watershed moment, a welcome surprise that brought some new life and energy to a fairly dated genre of Europeisms and Hanoi Rocks rehashes. Temple Balls proves that Avalanche wasn’t a one-off, continuing their extremely authentic throwback approach. The heavy/power-metal-meets-AOR direction of songwriting (“Flashback Dynamite,” “Soul Survivor”) gives it that extra guitar oomph and energy that melodic music like this requires to be anywhere near competitive. With great all-out vocals from Arde Teronen and gigantic hooks to match, it’s just a damn good time front to back. Though it will sadly be the last time we’ll hear Niko Vuorela’s guitar work on record (R.I.P., and fuck cancer), the self-titled is certainly a worthy final milestone for him—and hopefully, another beginning for his comrades.

ClarkKent’s Enchanting Earworm

Hela // A Reign to Conquer [February 27, 2026 – Ardua Music]

Just as it put a pause on many plans and projects, the COVID pandemic slowed down the output of Spain’s Hela. A Reign to Conquer marks their first record since 2019’s Vegvìsir, which was their third release since 2013. This brief hiatus brought new blood in the form of vocalist Raquel Navarro, though, in truth, the only consistency in Hela’s lineup is the other three members—Tano Giménez on bass, Miguel Fernández (The Holeum) on drums, and Julián Velasco (The Holeum) on guitars. They have a deep bond, first forged in 2009 with The Sand Collector before forming Hela just three years later. Though they brand Hela as melodic doom, and the band does have a little in common with Katatonia, I think it’s more accurate to describe them as dreamy progressive rock. Navarro is a major reason for this, with dreamy croons that guide listeners through breezy soundscapes. She bears a passing resemblance to Maud the Moth, though the music Hela plays is decidedly more metal than our Dolphin friend’s favorite nocturnal insect. Guitarist Velasco plays a hypnotizing mix of atmospheric fuzz, crushing doom, and melodic riffs that add some heft and crunch to the ethereal sound. A Reign to Conquer has plenty of layers to probe, rewarding listeners who bear with it for repeat listens. While my initial spins left me wanting, I’ve since become spellbound. Add to that some gorgeous artwork, and this is a nice addition to anyone’s vinyl collection. Hela yeah!

Spicie Forrest’s Vicious Vittles

A Wilhelm Scream8 // Cheap Heat [February 27th, 2026 – Creator-Destructor Records]

A Wilhelm Scream9 returns after a four-year hiatus with their eighth long player, Cheap Heat. Sounding like the best combination of The Story So Far and Rise Against, A Wilhelm Scream delivers an impressive tour de force so late in their career. Vocalist Nuno Pereira10 is the highlight of Cheap Heat, driving the album with urgency and passion (“Somebody’s Gonna Die,” “Fell Off”), but no one here is a slouch. The rhythm section—bassist Brian J. Robinson, rhythm guitarist Trevor Reilly, and drummer Nicholas Pasquale Angelini—gleefully tosses gas on Pereira’s bonfire (“I Got Tunnel Vision”) and delivers solid grooves (“Poison II”) and searing ragers (“Unsolving the Mystery”) that keep the energy cranked to 11 all through Cheap Heat. Hooks are by far the most common lead duty, and Ben Murray puts on a fucking clinic. Each note that rings out from his axe sounds like it fucking owns the place (“Run,” “Visitor: Unimpressed”). Cheap Heat is a smidge front-loaded with “Midnight Ghost” and “I Got Tunnel Vision” being album highlights, but no song on here is anything short of a barn burner. At a super tight 28 minutes, Cheap Heat hits hard and fast and gets the fuck out of Dodge before you’re even sure what hit you. I didn’t expect a 26-year-old hardcore outfit to knock my teeth out when I queued it up on a whim one morning, but Cheap Heat is proving to be one of my favorite albums of the year.

Lead Injector // Witching Attack [February 20th, 2026 – High Roller Records]

Who doesn’t like the combination of thrash’s unchained aggression and black metal’s cold hate? There’s never been a better pair. Lead Injector hit the ground running on debut LP Witching Attack. From the opening moments of “Siege Upon Heaven” to the closing moments of “Nuclear Antichrist,” Lead Injector is here to do two things: feed high-speed buckshot to God, skeletons, and anything else that gets in their way, and have a Hellripping good time. “Angel Destructor” and “Siege Upon Heaven” barrel pell-mell through searing riffs and blast beats, while groovier tracks like “Evil Executioner” and “Nuclear Antichrist” let black metal’s punk ancestry shine through. Heavy metal influences a la Judas Priest can be found injected into tracks like “Sacrifice This Bitch” and “M.C.C.I.” While nothing about Lead Injector’s sound is particularly new, I’m not sure that’s a bad thing. This debut is a unique and retro spin on a tried-and-true formula that bodes well for a young band. Witching Attack is a killer time that Ash Williams would gladly spin while boomsticking Deadites alongside Lord Arthur’s army.

It's #BandcampFriday ! Bandcamp doesn't take a cut today, so purchases go straight to musicians (or their label^^')

I'm making it a bit of a habit to get some music on these. This time, I got

Eschaton - Techtalitarian #TechDeath #TechnicalDeathMetal
https://eschaton-label.bandcamp.com/album/techtalitarian
(Recommended: Hellfire's Woe, Antimatter)

Byonoisegenerator - Subnormal Dives #JazzGrind
https://byonoisegenerator-label.bandcamp.com/album/subnormal-dives
(Rec: Eb(D#), 9.8m/sec2EndorphineNoseDive)

Helial Cloning Project - Inanis Without #ProgMetal #FusionMetal (heavily inspired by Fredrik Thordendal's solo album)
https://helialcloningproject.bandcamp.com/album/inanis-without

Sun Guts - Kilonova #MathMetal
https://sunguts.bandcamp.com/album/kilonova
(Rec: Perpetuals, Slop Tactics)

Godless Truth – Burning Existence
#DeathMetal #Metal #TechDeathMetal #oldschooldeathmetal #progressivedeathmetal #techdeath #technicaldeathmetal #Olomouc
CC BY-NC-ND (#CreativeCommons Attribution Non Commercial No Derivatives) #ccmusic
https://godlesstruth.bandcamp.com/album/burning-existence

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

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

Heaven Wept by Inferi

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

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

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

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

Hot on the heels of my first encounter with Alice Simard’s work (Luminesce), another notch in her roster dropped into my unsuspecting lap. Canadian brutal slam/goregrind trio Onchocerciasis Esophagogastroduodenoscopy (henceforth referred to simply as OE) spawned seven years ago from a mire of gore, and Fugue Gnawed from the Scabbed God Cerebrum marks their second full expulsion. Mere seconds after slamming that play button, viscous fluids so voluminous as to mismatch the mass of the entities that expel them flood the entirety of my being, overflowing gushingly into the surrounding environs with destructive force. The general public gazes upon this outlandishly fecund release with equal parts disgust and fascination. Despite the grotesque nature of it all, though, I can’t in good conscience call the experience unpleasurable. Quite the opposite, in fact.

Brutal in the same inhuman way as known slammers Epicardiectomy and Organectomy, absurd as a lot of material coming out of the Indonesian and Chinese scenes are, and irreverently creative enough to recall the novel songwriting of Wormhole, Artificial Brain, Unhuman, and Unfathomable Ruination, OE’s style is often a delight and moreso a challenge. Alice (who is here credited under guitars, songwriting, and drum programming), Jesse Agiomamitis (vocals, lyrics1), and the mysterious The Popu (drum programming, guitars, lyrics, songwriting, synth, vocals) shine as a collaborative team, delivering a deceptively wide variety to what is typically an extremely limited stylistic palette. All 33 minutes of Fugue fall neatly in the brutal slamgrind niche, but it’s undeniably one of the wildest executions of the style. That unhinged spirit affords the ballistic percussion a sense of immediate danger that belies its impossible technicality, the monstrously toilet-tastic vocals a sense of vibrant dynamics they absolutely should not have, and the multifaceted guitar work a kaleidoscopic personality that colors the entire record in vivid detail.

Fugue Gnawed from the Scabbed God Cerebrum by Onchocerciasis Esophagogastroduodenoscopy

However, and perhaps even as a consequence of these aforementioned traits, Fugue is a trial in music appreciation. Not for the faint of heart or the frail of ear, Fugue seems to wholly reject the idea of memorability as a virtue. Certainly, in its first half, before “Gutted & Corpsed” shocks me with an almost beautiful shift from relentless assault to thoughtful transitions and subversive intricacies, Fugue is hell-bent on punishing any listener that comes close. Gnashing with serrated teeth crowding a jaw capable of crushing diamond like Nerds candy, “Conquering Divinity” through “Entombed Within the Infinite Panopticon” bullies anyone that approaches with endless slam riffs (but fast), violent scrapes (“The Fallen Lament, Paralytikus Ascends”), fucked-up lead guitar atmospheres (“Severing What Makes Me Human,” “Apotheotic Apotemnophilia”), machine-gun blasts and double-bass abuse (“Entombed Within the Inifinite Panopticon”), and unreal spans of sustained phlegmy gutturals (name a song, any song). The addition of eerie bongs and bells adds to the sinister nature of these initial songs, but only minimally aids their memorability. Yet, they are all counterintuitively enjoyable in the same manner as discovering your first kink.

Thankfully, that first prolonged salvo of abject violence only takes 13 minutes, at which time Fugue shifts. It’s hard to expect creativity and thoughtful detailing to come into play with this kind of extreme fringe music. Undeterred by that reality, OE start integrating more purposeful dissonant flourishes, effervescent leads bordering against—but never quite crossing into—melody, and a downright airy atmosphere that together recall 50% Wormhole, 50% Afterbirth (“Heaven’s Empty Halls”). More Wormhole-isms abound in conjunction with Epicardiectomy madness and Artificial Brain-ed atmosphere as “Hurt Beyond Healing” and “Forged in the Blackest Reaches of Blasphemy” pair high-detail phrasing with terrifying brutalizations. While still escaping the realm of immediacy, memorability, or accessibility, Fugue’s second act shows OE’s greater range as songwriters in such a way as to compel me to revisit with great anticipation, enthusiastic for the deeper details I might uncover.

While far from easy to love, for any number of reasons all associated with the extreme nature of its composition and its over-the-top execution, Fugue Gnawed from the Scabbed God Cerebrum is an album of rare quality in the scene of disgusting, inhuman music. Many will balk at its cartoonish gurgle vox, its total lack of subtlety in the first phase, and the relentlessness of its dense and complex instrumentation. Those who weather that storm will discover something a bit more substantial underneath. I didn’t expect to find that substance myself, but here I am. Join me, if you think you can handle it!

Rating: Good!
DR: 42 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Stillbirth Records
Websites: officialonchocerciasis.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/OnchoOfficial
Releases Worldwide: April 3rd, 2026

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

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

Kenstrosity’s Freaky Foursome

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

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

Forefathers’ Eve (Redemption) by Upiór

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

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

Erde 666 by KadavriK

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

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

Like Crushed Violets and Linen by Luminesce

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

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

Daemon Breed by Bone Storm

Creeping Ivy’s Riffy Remainder

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

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

Ultra Soul by Lord Elephant

Andy-War-Hall’s Salvaged Windfall

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

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

Tékmés by Juodvarnis

Thus Spoke’s Obscure Offerings

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

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

In Unreality’s Coffin by Ectovoid

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

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

Sealed Into None by Exxûl

ClarkKent’s Canadian Catch

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

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

Mordoré by Turpitude

Grin Reaper’s Heavy Haul

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

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

Neverealm by Valiant Sentinel

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

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

Death Is Your Master by Fili Bibiano’s Fortress

Baguette’s Brutal Burglary

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

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

Abyss Call To Abyss by Skulld

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

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

Mountains Of Madness by Total Annihilation

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

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

Drifting Through Voids by Polaris Experience

It's late now for #TuneTuesday's #RentFreeTracks, and I've shared this song earlier already, but I play this several times a day:

#Vitriol: Shame and Its Afterbirth

https://song.link/6x2bgkdbjf9bs

#TechnicalDeathMetal

FFO #AtræBilis #HideousDivinity #Ulcerate

I can't not love the jewellery and the facial expressions 🤘

Pillars of Cacophony – Paralipomena [Things You Might Have Missed 2025]

By Owlswald

Amidst the routine of our daily lives, it’s easy to overlook the hidden, complex universe that exists just outside our normal gaze. It only takes a bit of magnification to reveal it: a place where cells shift and collide, forming the invisible architecture of existence. Capturing the awe of this biological machinery is a tall order. Yet, Dominik, multi-instrumentalist and mastermind of Pillars of Cacophony, has created a soundscape with second LP, Paralipomena, that does exactly that, exploring the building blocks of life through sound. Though tackling the topic of bioscience through the lens of disso and technical death metal may be a volatile experiment, this Austrian knows exactly how to harness the power of biology to bridge the divide. You see, Dominik is a bioscientist by trade, literally mining his own PhD thesis to drive the chaos that is Pillars of Cacophony. This academic authenticity is what sets Paralipomena apart, resulting in a rare fusion of intellect and brutality that you simply can’t afford to miss.

The genome of Paralipomena is an unstable body of technical and dissonant death metal, forged in the chaotic intersection of Ulcerate and The Faceless. The album’s kinetic energy flows freely across synapses, connecting a skin of hooky riffs, tremolo surges, and punishing down-picking. Intelligent songwriting and flash-fire percussion surgically underpin this to create an unsettling cacophony of sonic friction. While tracks like “The Cradle,” “The Discord,” and “Retina” demonstrate Pillars of Cacophony’s hyper-speed technicality, cuts like “Cachexia,” “Mitosis,” and the Meshuggahian “Landscapes of Permanence” twist the formula, venturing into unpredictability with jazzy permutations and calm, contemplative sections (“Maps of Disintegration”). This is the soundtrack to inter-cellular warfare—a torrent of fast-twitch riffing and searing discordance, punctuated by pressurized blast beats, static-laced roars, and the acidic twang of bass, transporting one into a world seen only through a high-powered scope.

Paralipomena is rife with entropy, yet its multi-layered cytoskeleton maintains homeostasis. Pillars of Cacophony’s layered guitars clash and coordinate simultaneously—one flooding the airwaves with raw, unsettling dissonance, while the other focuses on calculated technicality and micro-precision picking. “Of Plagues and Fibrils” immediately delivers Paralipomena’s chemistry of chaos and precise equilibrium in its moving, shifting main palm-muted riff, infecting the listener’s brain like a disease with its immediate, powerful hooks. The drums’ complex cymbal flares and tom rolls only enhance the track’s memorability, providing badass atmosphere and tasteful technicality in equal measure. Pillars of Cacophony showcases this same momentum again in “Retina,” which pushes a Necrophagist-like tempo—particularly during its groovy double-bass sections and unidirectional picking—and “The Cradle,” where the rhythm section anchors the frenetic guitar work and furious tremolodic leads.

Ever since it dropped earlier this year, Paralipomena continues to grip me. It succeeds by concentrating sonic violence to create the ultimate soundtrack to a hidden world—one that feels as technically layered as it is immediately catchy. Pillars of Cacophony has forged an album that pairs an extreme and dystopian soundscape with the surgical authority of empirical sciences, carving a bespoke path outside the predictable confines of death metal. If you’re a fan of disso or tech-death and somehow missed Paralipomena, consider this your diagnosis and remedy that malady immediately.

Tracks to Check Out: “Of Plagues and Fibrils,” “The Cradle,” “Retina,” “The Discord.”

#2025 #AustrianMetal #DeathMetal #Meshuggah #Necrophagist #Paralipomena #PillarsOfCacophony #TechnicalDeathMetal #TeratogenRecords #TheFaceless #ThingsYouMightHaveMissed2025 #TYMHM #Ulcerate

Stuck in the Filter: August 2025’s Angry Misses

By Kenstrosity

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

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

Kenstrosity’s Galactic Gremlin

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

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

Kronos’ Unexpected Unearthments

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

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

Thus Spoke’s Frightening Fragments

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

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

ClarkKent’s Heated Hymns

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

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

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

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

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

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

Grin Reaper’s Bountiful Blight

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

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

Luke’s Kaleidoscopic Kicks

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

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

Spicie Forrest’s Foraged Fruit

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

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

Dolphin Whisperer’s Disseminating Discharge

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

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

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

Visions Unseen – Echoes Through Time Review

By Killjoy

Time and memory are innately connected. In the hourglass of life, the sand of time from the top steadily and mercilessly passes to the bottom, where it may live on as memories. Musings of this nature are the inspiration of Echoes Through Time, the debut album of Visions Unseen from Montréal, Canada, which is billed as “a meditation on the impermanence of existence and the memories that persist long after all else has faded.” Yet, the mind is but an imperfect, finite vessel unable to remember all. Is Echoes Through Time memorable enough to remain in the hourglass or will it spill out through the cracks?

Visions Unseen resides somewhere between technical and melodic death metal without feeling fully like either. Guitarist Rémi Legresley,1 who creatively spearheads the group, plays vaguely neoclassical leads and solos, though you won’t hear much of the hyperactive shredding commonly found in modern tech death. The meat of the riffwork recalls Revocation’s burly brand of death metal battling against the turbulence of The Black Dahlia Murder. There are trace elements of Gojira groove at times, although Yann Guénette’s bass lines tend to be more hulking and rattling. Visions Unseen managed to nab the drum services of Simon McKay following the breakup of The Agonist, who refuses to let the frequent stylistic shifts throw him off balance.

Though the goal of combining multiple genres is for them to complement one another, the risk is a final product that doesn’t feel like it belongs anywhere. The latter is, sadly, the case with Echoes Through Time. The melodies are not particularly striking; this is no Retromorphosis or Dååth with ultra-hooky guitars that zip around. Likewise, when vocalist Patrick Goyette sings, he sounds more intent on conveying grit than a tune. Neither does Visions Unseen offer the intense sensory overload that defines tech death. The guitar solos are enjoyable (particularly in opener “Forged in Resolve” and closer “The Final Reckoning”), but they also lack purpose and structure, nor are they virtuosic enough to wow from that standpoint. Worse, the musical tones almost always come across as clinical or emotionally devoid, one of tech death’s most common pitfalls.

In truth, I would enjoy Echoes Through Time more if not for the smothering demeanor of the vocals. The guttural screams and growls are often needlessly loud and belligerent, leaving many passages charred on the outside and undercooked on the inside like an ill-fated steak. But when the compositions are occasionally given a chance to breathe, glimpses of potential shine through. The synth-led interlude midway through “Breaking the Illusions” and the tranquil guitar plucks in “The Final Reckoning” provide much-needed nuance, as well as a reprieve from the noisy assault. Interestingly, many of the intros and outros are what show the most promise, most notably the buildup of ominous keyboards and the peppy melodeath riffing bookending “Nothing Will Remain.” In like manner, McKay’s strong drumwork bolsters the opening moments of “Edge of Eternity” beyond what they would have been otherwise.

Much like its cover artwork, Echoes Through Time contains many competing ideas and philosophies that don’t completely come together. Neither the guitars nor the vocals carry enough melodic potency to cement a lasting place in my memory, even after many front-to-back spins. The style of the guttural vocals doesn’t feel like a good fit, distracting from or even actively hurting the overall experience. Visions Unseen is capable of writing ear-catching sections, but they are generally concentrated in the intros and sometimes feel totally divorced from the remainder of their respective songs. Ultimately, those looking for melody and/or technicality in their death metal would likely find more success elsewhere.

Rating: 2.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: PCM
Label: Self-Release
Websites: visionsunseen.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/people/Visions-Unseen
Releases Worldwide: August 11th, 2025

#20 #2025 #Aug25 #CanadianMetal #DeathMetal #EchoesThroughTime #Gojira #MelodicDeathMetal #Review #Reviews #Revocation #SelfRelease #TechnicalDeathMetal #TheAgonist #TheBlackDahliaMurder #VisionsUnseen

Harvested – Dysthymia Review

By Tyme

Despite a waning stigma, mental illness remains an oft-closeted topic, as those suffering from it struggle not only to cope but to discuss their struggles with others. Here to shed some of their death metal light on the matter are Canadian upstarts Harvested, with their independent debut full-length Dysthymia, which, according to Johns Hopkins Medicine, is defined as a long-lasting form of mild depression. Touching on topics ranging from submitting to one’s long-bottled-up ‘shadow self’ (“Repressed Neurosis”) to the gluttonous way humans abuse the earth (“Unanchored”), something Harvested consider a form of mental illness, they’ve dialed back the lyrically gorier aspects of their eponymous 2022 EP to intensify the focus on their chosen theme. As evidenced by the beautifully rendered CJ Bertram cover art, which main guitarist Mitchi Dimitriadis says depicts ‘an individual in great mental turmoil’ and represents ‘the abstract visualization of the chaos that is the human brain,’ it’s clear that Harvested are committed to the subject. The only question left to answer is whether it’s worth reaping what Harvested’s Dysthymia hopes to have sown.

Nostalgically anchored in 1990s and early 2000s death metal, Harvested also incorporate modern elements of slam and tech-death into the mix to achieve Dysthymia’s goal. This is one brutal fucking record, and from the get, you realize Harvested aren’t messing about, as Dysthymia mashes the potatoes and pulls the meaty steaks off the grill, a muscle-bound manifestation of their Cannibal Corpse, Suffocation, and Deicide (“Harvested,” “The Infestation”) influences. Dimitriadis’ and Vitto Oh’s guitar harmonics are pinched harder than Grier‘s butt cheeks at an enema convention, ensorcelled by viscerally blistering riffs, technically proficient leads, and tornadic, swirling solos. Jacob Collins’ drums1 crack skulls and pummel sternums with whirling fills and destructive double-kicks while Eric Forget’s bass lines remember everything necessary to keep things rumbling along. Adam Semler’s vocals, primarily an homage to George Fisher’s chesty aggression and Glenn Benton’s demonic discernibility, also share elements with Cattle Decapitation’s Travis Ryan at his most high-pitched and raspy. For such a young band, Harvested have planted a flag on the death metal scene, and Dysthymia is the wind through which that flag furls, filled with exuberant, energy-filled performances and solid songwriting.

With highlights aplenty, Dysthymia demands attention by way of its genuine songcraft and near flawless execution. I found myself stank-faced and sweaty through many a listen, whether basking in the glow of galloping riffs and percussive bass on “Unending Madness” or taking in the detailed technicality of the Soreption and The Zenith Passage influenced “Designed Dilemma,” a song that chugs so hard through its last ninety seconds I nearly gave myself whiplash. My favorite track, “Gathered and Deluded,” is a Cattle Decapitation-tinted slammer with pinched harmonic progressions that have been living rent-free in my head for weeks as Forget’s bass marches in flurrying lockstep with Collins’ robotically precise drums, and Selmer channels his best inner Travis Ryan. Harvested is one tight-knit outfit, belying their relatively brief existence and sounding like a band that’s been together much longer.

I’d argue the efforts of Harvested’s “sixth member” deserve as much credit for the success Dysthymia should garner as the band themselves, and that is the excellent work Joe Lyko performed from the booth at Darkmoon Productions. Lyko’s mix and master slathers Dimitriadis’ and Oh’s guitar work in a tone that, for me, defies obvious comparison, as bright and bouncy as it is deadly and devastating. Like a calculated throat punch, it was the first thing that hit me when album opener, “Harvested,” launched, holding my rapt attention all the way through to “The Infestation,” an excellent close to Dysthymia’s very manageable thirty-two-minute runtime. Each instrument exists within its own space, breathing freely and intertwining with high-definition clarity, thereby topping this auditorily successful sundae with a big, fat, juicy cherry.

Lyrically poignant, brutally heavy, and bursting with engagingly twisted, hook-filled instrumentation, Dysthymia is a helluva debut, and one Harvested should be proud of. As poetically as I have waxed, I still believe there’s room for Harvested to grow. God help those who might lay their ears on a sophomore effort from this line-up, should they remain intact. Rest assured, I’ll definitely be watching and waiting. For now, however, I wholeheartedly recommend you spend some long-lasting, quality time with Dysthymia.

Rating: 3.5 / 5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320kbps mp3
Label: Self-Released
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: August 1st, 2025

#2025 #35 #Aug25 #CanadianMetal #CannibalCorpse #CattleDecapitation #DeathMetal #Deicide #Dysthymia #Harvested #Independent #Review #Soreption #Suffocation #TechnicalDeathMetal #TheZenithProcess

RITUAL OF DESCENT (Estats Units) presenta nou EP: "Ephemerality" #RitualOfDescent #TechnicalDeathMetal #Juny2025 #EstatsUnits #NouEp #Metall #Metal #MúsicaMetal #MetalMusic

Continuing #ThursDeath:

#DormantOrdeal: Tooth and Nail

https://album.link/i/1790702778

#TechnicalDeathMetal

FFO #Carnosus #Exocrine #Ulcerate

#CurrentlyListeningTo Blood Incantation - Absolute Elsewhere #HeavyMetal #DeathMetal #TechnicalDeathMetal 🇺🇸

Spawn of Possession is back as Retromorphis! I can't stop listening to this!

https://retromorphosisofficial.bandcamp.com/album/psalmus-mortis

#SpawnOfPossession #Retromorphis #DeathMetal #technicaldeathmetal

Retromorphosis – Psalmus Mortis Review

By Saunders

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maddog

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

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

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

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

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

Rating: Very Good

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

When Pink Floyd meets Death Metal:

#BloodIncantation: The Stargate

The whole:
- https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6N4rLtjPzH0
- https://redirect.invidious.io/watch?v=6N4rLtjPzH0

The three parts:
- https://song.link/t3pt4s7wwgrrv
- https://song.link/cjm3kcrq3rnwq
- https://song.link/smtd2t58r7g62

#ProgressiveDeathMetal #TechnicalDeathMetal

FFO #Horrendous #SpectralVoice #TombMold

#OwlClub

For #ThursDeath:

#Ulcerate: To Flow Through Ashen Hearts

https://song.link/mstdgfmnsvwtq

#BrutalDeathMetal #ProgressiveDeathMetal #TechnicalDeathMetal

FFO #Cosmitorium #Pestifer #TombMold

The whole album quickly grew on me and if I'd assemble an AOTY list, this would be top tier