#technicalthrashmetal — Public Fediverse posts

Occasionally, pet projects and casual fun bands can take a very long time to gestate into something more serious and tangible. Spain’s Battering Ram has had quite a long journey to get to their self-released debut album Time Masters, starting from their formation in 2008 and their demos in the early 2010s.1 Over this time period, their ambitions have also grown. Evolved from just another thrash metal band, Time Masters is a sci-fi concept album looking to fuse epic heavy and power metal with technical thrash metal. How successful is Battering Ram in their goal?

Battering Ram’s fun sound leans more towards the heavy/power metal side than the thrash side. The riffage of Guillermo Marqués definitely borrows a lot from all of the above, though. The drumming of Benjamín Mateo has plenty of classic Watchtower influence here, alongside more classic fun thrash like Anthrax. Complementing the thrashy bits are heavy/power bands like Manowar and HammerFall. Tracks like “Immortality Fed by Death” show some thrashy bite, alongside some fat killer bass by Francisco Cabañas. The 10-minute almost-opener “Unexpected Events (The Beginning of the End)” is a bold choice, but it ends up panning out well.

Thrash and power metal both perform best at high velocity, and most of Time Masters has too little of it. The second half of the album picks things up with cuts like “Immortality Fed by Death (Unstoppable Train),” but they’re not quite strong enough to carry the entire album. The double interlude towards the end of the album is also a baffling decision, interrupting the flow between the album’s three strongest tracks. The bonus track being a base track (penultimate track, instead of the weird double interlude?) would’ve also directly upgraded the experience and album flow. The riff work is good and multifaceted, though, and the drums are very fun to listen to as well, providing lots of cool patterns and fills here and there. The instrumentation is really cool, but the vocals definitely need more work. David Ordás sings well on tracks like “Immortality Fed by Death,” but his performance is inconsistent throughout the album. They lack energy and range on tracks like 3 and 4. However, they do also improve as the album goes along (tracks 6, 7).

Despite its drawbacks, there are plenty of good pieces on Time Masters to work with. The guitars, drums, and bass all sound great and have great players behind them. The riffs are fun and have enough variety for the material, and the bass, in particular, in the first half of the album, is cranked loud and plays some really fun lines. There’s definitely a 3.0/Good! hidden in here, but the vocal inconsistencies, slight bloat, and general sluggish pace all unfortunately drag it down too much. The advantages do not outweigh the disadvantages, but the good things here are still very much visible. If you removed “The Persecuted (Back Again)” and both of the unwieldy two-in-a-row interludes (“The Prophecy,” “Armageddon Wars”), and added the CD bonus track “Wormhole (Dreaming Eutocia)” as the penultimate track, this would be a tight and fun album to replay.

Battering Ram has some good ideas, but throws too many things at the wall at the same time. If they can speed things up, improve the vocals, and tighten their songwriting in general, these guys can definitely have a good follow-up in store. As is, the album has a fun concept with some strong ideas, but it flows very unevenly. Running a tighter 40-minute ship, improving the production, and leveling up the vocals will go a long way. Time Masters is a rough but riffy proof of concept. With some ironing, Battering Ram is well on their way towards creating a fun power/thrash blend.

Rating: Mixed
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: WAV
Label: Self-Released
Websites: Facebook | Instagram | YouTube
Releases Worldwide: January 10th, 2026

About once a year, I find a technical thrash album I utterly adore. 2023 graced me with Xoth, and 2024’s Dissimulator debut was my favorite album of the year. In 2025, the premiere thrash platter belongs to Warsaw, Poland’s Species. Unfairly or not, thrash is an oft-maligned genre accused of being unserious and trite or stale and stuck in the past. On Changelings, Species’ sophomore offering, the band nimbly threads the needle between paying homage to thrash’s heyday while shaping a fresh sound that’s enchanting yet familiar.

Changelings confidently walks the elusive path between influence and originality. From the opening moments of “Inspirit Creation,” Species treats listeners to hooks stretched taut between early Testament pluck (think “Burnt Offering”) and Countdown and Youthanasia-era Megadeth. It’s a curious combination, as The Legacy has a distinctly unpolished edge, while early-to-mid-90s Megadeth condenses the sheer technicality of Rust in Peace into glossy, efficient leads. Changelings takes the above reference points and channels the grit and chops of bands like Chemical Breath and Obliveon1 to economically distill its riffcraft into thrashy white lightning. The tight musicianship and melody-countermelody tandem of guitar and bass smack of Rush, Cynic, and Mekong Delta, but don’t let all the influences fool you. Species evokes these bands and others, but Changelings is no mere retread. The album glimmers with invention, where each track possesses its own devilishly charming character and mood.

Changelings by Species

Following in the footsteps of esteemed power trios like Rush and Coroner, Species exhibits an acumen for composing dense and exciting music that feels natural and organic. Though bursting with talent, no moment on Changelings serves to grandstand Species’ technical wizardry. Guitarist Michał Kępka wends his way through the album, unleashing snazzy flourishes and palm-muted muscle as songs demand. His licks are sharp and precise, yet Kępka imbues an improvisational aura to his axework that keeps the music alluringly unpredictable (“The Essence,” “Terror Unknown”). Bassist Piotr Drobina delights as he plays beside Kępka while laying down vocals. It’s an impressive feat, considering the ground he covers on the bottom end. From octave hopping (“Born of Stitch and Flesh”) to beefy bass power chords (“Inspirit Creation”), Drobina is the perfect complement to Kępka for Species’ give-and-take stringed approach. Meanwhile, Przemysław Hampelski provides the rhythmic foundation for the band. He’s not as overtly ostentatious as Peart or Hoglan, but Hampelski impresses throughout Changelings, from laying down the groove-laced intro of “The Essence” to the simmering timekeeping on “Born of Stitch and Flesh.” All told, Species constructs an intricate musical experience where distinct ideas meld together to navigate an undeniably engaging aural exploit.

In a year where thrash’s harvest produced scant high-quality yields, Species delivered a cash crop of bangers.2 Changelings’ magic stems from the band’s penchant to zag when I expect them to zig. Finding moments to subvert listeners’ expectations keeps momentum and interest high, such as when the musical tension builds to an assumed climax, only to break to an understated solo before lurching back into high-intensity fulfillment. Species dazzles in this space, ever on the prowl to sink their claws further into your sonic psyche. In an efficient forty minutes, Changelings carves out an undeniable and relevant voice in a genre plagued by criticisms of stagnation and lack of innovation. If you crave music with originality, brawn, and fun, Species is a mandatory destination in your 2025 tour of metal.

Tracks to Check Out: “Inspirit Creation,” “The Essence,” “Born of Stitch and Flesh,” “Biological Masterpiece”

About once a year, I find a technical thrash album I utterly adore. 2023 graced me with Xoth, and 2024’s Dissimulator debut was my favorite album of the year. In 2025, the premiere thrash platter belongs to Warsaw, Poland’s Species. Unfairly or not, thrash is an oft-maligned genre accused of being unserious and trite or stale and stuck in the past. On Changelings, Species’ sophomore offering, the band nimbly threads the needle between paying homage to thrash’s heyday while shaping a fresh sound that’s enchanting yet familiar.

Changelings confidently walks the elusive path between influence and originality. From the opening moments of “Inspirit Creation,” Species treats listeners to hooks stretched taut between early Testament pluck (think “Burnt Offering”) and Countdown and Youthanasia-era Megadeth. It’s a curious combination, as The Legacy has a distinctly unpolished edge, while early-to-mid-90s Megadeth condenses the sheer technicality of Rust in Peace into glossy, efficient leads. Changelings takes the above reference points and channels the grit and chops of bands like Chemical Breath and Obliveon1 to economically distill its riffcraft into thrashy white lightning. The tight musicianship and melody-countermelody tandem of guitar and bass smack of Rush, Cynic, and Mekong Delta, but don’t let all the influences fool you. Species evokes these bands and others, but Changelings is no mere retread. The album glimmers with invention, where each track possesses its own devilishly charming character and mood.

Changelings by Species

Following in the footsteps of esteemed power trios like Rush and Coroner, Species exhibits an acumen for composing dense and exciting music that feels natural and organic. Though bursting with talent, no moment on Changelings serves to grandstand Species’ technical wizardry. Guitarist Michał Kępka wends his way through the album, unleashing snazzy flourishes and palm-muted muscle as songs demand. His licks are sharp and precise, yet Kępka imbues an improvisational aura to his axework that keeps the music alluringly unpredictable (“The Essence,” “Terror Unknown”). Bassist Piotr Drobina delights as he plays beside Kępka while laying down vocals. It’s an impressive feat, considering the ground he covers on the bottom end. From octave hopping (“Born of Stitch and Flesh”) to beefy bass power chords (“Inspirit Creation”), Drobina is the perfect complement to Kępka for Species’ give-and-take stringed approach. Meanwhile, Przemysław Hampelski provides the rhythmic foundation for the band. He’s not as overtly ostentatious as Peart or Hoglan, but Hampelski impresses throughout Changelings, from laying down the groove-laced intro of “The Essence” to the simmering timekeeping on “Born of Stitch and Flesh.” All told, Species constructs an intricate musical experience where distinct ideas meld together to navigate an undeniably engaging aural exploit.

In a year where thrash’s harvest produced scant high-quality yields, Species delivered a cash crop of bangers.2 Changelings’ magic stems from the band’s penchant to zag when I expect them to zig. Finding moments to subvert listeners’ expectations keeps momentum and interest high, such as when the musical tension builds to an assumed climax, only to break to an understated solo before lurching back into high-intensity fulfillment. Species dazzles in this space, ever on the prowl to sink their claws further into your sonic psyche. In an efficient forty minutes, Changelings carves out an undeniable and relevant voice in a genre plagued by criticisms of stagnation and lack of innovation. If you crave music with originality, brawn, and fun, Species is a mandatory destination in your 2025 tour of metal.

Tracks to Check Out: “Inspirit Creation,” “The Essence,” “Born of Stitch and Flesh,” “Biological Masterpiece”

About once a year, I find a technical thrash album I utterly adore. 2023 graced me with Xoth, and 2024’s Dissimulator debut was my favorite album of the year. In 2025, the premiere thrash platter belongs to Warsaw, Poland’s Species. Unfairly or not, thrash is an oft-maligned genre accused of being unserious and trite or stale and stuck in the past. On Changelings, Species’ sophomore offering, the band nimbly threads the needle between paying homage to thrash’s heyday while shaping a fresh sound that’s enchanting yet familiar.

Changelings confidently walks the elusive path between influence and originality. From the opening moments of “Inspirit Creation,” Species treats listeners to hooks stretched taut between early Testament pluck (think “Burnt Offering”) and Countdown and Youthanasia-era Megadeth. It’s a curious combination, as The Legacy has a distinctly unpolished edge, while early-to-mid-90s Megadeth condenses the sheer technicality of Rust in Peace into glossy, efficient leads. Changelings takes the above reference points and channels the grit and chops of bands like Chemical Breath and Obliveon1 to economically distill its riffcraft into thrashy white lightning. The tight musicianship and melody-countermelody tandem of guitar and bass smack of Rush, Cynic, and Mekong Delta, but don’t let all the influences fool you. Species evokes these bands and others, but Changelings is no mere retread. The album glimmers with invention, where each track possesses its own devilishly charming character and mood.

Changelings by Species

Following in the footsteps of esteemed power trios like Rush and Coroner, Species exhibits an acumen for composing dense and exciting music that feels natural and organic. Though bursting with talent, no moment on Changelings serves to grandstand Species’ technical wizardry. Guitarist Michał Kępka wends his way through the album, unleashing snazzy flourishes and palm-muted muscle as songs demand. His licks are sharp and precise, yet Kępka imbues an improvisational aura to his axework that keeps the music alluringly unpredictable (“The Essence,” “Terror Unknown”). Bassist Piotr Drobina delights as he plays beside Kępka while laying down vocals. It’s an impressive feat, considering the ground he covers on the bottom end. From octave hopping (“Born of Stitch and Flesh”) to beefy bass power chords (“Inspirit Creation”), Drobina is the perfect complement to Kępka for Species’ give-and-take stringed approach. Meanwhile, Przemysław Hampelski provides the rhythmic foundation for the band. He’s not as overtly ostentatious as Peart or Hoglan, but Hampelski impresses throughout Changelings, from laying down the groove-laced intro of “The Essence” to the simmering timekeeping on “Born of Stitch and Flesh.” All told, Species constructs an intricate musical experience where distinct ideas meld together to navigate an undeniably engaging aural exploit.

In a year where thrash’s harvest produced scant high-quality yields, Species delivered a cash crop of bangers.2 Changelings’ magic stems from the band’s penchant to zag when I expect them to zig. Finding moments to subvert listeners’ expectations keeps momentum and interest high, such as when the musical tension builds to an assumed climax, only to break to an understated solo before lurching back into high-intensity fulfillment. Species dazzles in this space, ever on the prowl to sink their claws further into your sonic psyche. In an efficient forty minutes, Changelings carves out an undeniable and relevant voice in a genre plagued by criticisms of stagnation and lack of innovation. If you crave music with originality, brawn, and fun, Species is a mandatory destination in your 2025 tour of metal.

Tracks to Check Out: “Inspirit Creation,” “The Essence,” “Born of Stitch and Flesh,” “Biological Masterpiece”

About once a year, I find a technical thrash album I utterly adore. 2023 graced me with Xoth, and 2024’s Dissimulator debut was my favorite album of the year. In 2025, the premiere thrash platter belongs to Warsaw, Poland’s Species. Unfairly or not, thrash is an oft-maligned genre accused of being unserious and trite or stale and stuck in the past. On Changelings, Species’ sophomore offering, the band nimbly threads the needle between paying homage to thrash’s heyday while shaping a fresh sound that’s enchanting yet familiar.

Changelings confidently walks the elusive path between influence and originality. From the opening moments of “Inspirit Creation,” Species treats listeners to hooks stretched taut between early Testament pluck (think “Burnt Offering”) and Countdown and Youthanasia-era Megadeth. It’s a curious combination, as The Legacy has a distinctly unpolished edge, while early-to-mid-90s Megadeth condenses the sheer technicality of Rust in Peace into glossy, efficient leads. Changelings takes the above reference points and channels the grit and chops of bands like Chemical Breath and Obliveon1 to economically distill its riffcraft into thrashy white lightning. The tight musicianship and melody-countermelody tandem of guitar and bass smack of Rush, Cynic, and Mekong Delta, but don’t let all the influences fool you. Species evokes these bands and others, but Changelings is no mere retread. The album glimmers with invention, where each track possesses its own devilishly charming character and mood.

Changelings by Species

Following in the footsteps of esteemed power trios like Rush and Coroner, Species exhibits an acumen for composing dense and exciting music that feels natural and organic. Though bursting with talent, no moment on Changelings serves to grandstand Species’ technical wizardry. Guitarist Michał Kępka wends his way through the album, unleashing snazzy flourishes and palm-muted muscle as songs demand. His licks are sharp and precise, yet Kępka imbues an improvisational aura to his axework that keeps the music alluringly unpredictable (“The Essence,” “Terror Unknown”). Bassist Piotr Drobina delights as he plays beside Kępka while laying down vocals. It’s an impressive feat, considering the ground he covers on the bottom end. From octave hopping (“Born of Stitch and Flesh”) to beefy bass power chords (“Inspirit Creation”), Drobina is the perfect complement to Kępka for Species’ give-and-take stringed approach. Meanwhile, Przemysław Hampelski provides the rhythmic foundation for the band. He’s not as overtly ostentatious as Peart or Hoglan, but Hampelski impresses throughout Changelings, from laying down the groove-laced intro of “The Essence” to the simmering timekeeping on “Born of Stitch and Flesh.” All told, Species constructs an intricate musical experience where distinct ideas meld together to navigate an undeniably engaging aural exploit.

In a year where thrash’s harvest produced scant high-quality yields, Species delivered a cash crop of bangers.2 Changelings’ magic stems from the band’s penchant to zag when I expect them to zig. Finding moments to subvert listeners’ expectations keeps momentum and interest high, such as when the musical tension builds to an assumed climax, only to break to an understated solo before lurching back into high-intensity fulfillment. Species dazzles in this space, ever on the prowl to sink their claws further into your sonic psyche. In an efficient forty minutes, Changelings carves out an undeniable and relevant voice in a genre plagued by criticisms of stagnation and lack of innovation. If you crave music with originality, brawn, and fun, Species is a mandatory destination in your 2025 tour of metal.

Tracks to Check Out: “Inspirit Creation,” “The Essence,” “Born of Stitch and Flesh,” “Biological Masterpiece”

About once a year, I find a technical thrash album I utterly adore. 2023 graced me with Xoth, and 2024’s Dissimulator debut was my favorite album of the year. In 2025, the premiere thrash platter belongs to Warsaw, Poland’s Species. Unfairly or not, thrash is an oft-maligned genre accused of being unserious and trite or stale and stuck in the past. On Changelings, Species’ sophomore offering, the band nimbly threads the needle between paying homage to thrash’s heyday while shaping a fresh sound that’s enchanting yet familiar.

Changelings confidently walks the elusive path between influence and originality. From the opening moments of “Inspirit Creation,” Species treats listeners to hooks stretched taut between early Testament pluck (think “Burnt Offering”) and Countdown and Youthanasia-era Megadeth. It’s a curious combination, as The Legacy has a distinctly unpolished edge, while early-to-mid-90s Megadeth condenses the sheer technicality of Rust in Peace into glossy, efficient leads. Changelings takes the above reference points and channels the grit and chops of bands like Chemical Breath and Obliveon1 to economically distill its riffcraft into thrashy white lightning. The tight musicianship and melody-countermelody tandem of guitar and bass smack of Rush, Cynic, and Mekong Delta, but don’t let all the influences fool you. Species evokes these bands and others, but Changelings is no mere retread. The album glimmers with invention, where each track possesses its own devilishly charming character and mood.

Changelings by Species

Following in the footsteps of esteemed power trios like Rush and Coroner, Species exhibits an acumen for composing dense and exciting music that feels natural and organic. Though bursting with talent, no moment on Changelings serves to grandstand Species’ technical wizardry. Guitarist Michał Kępka wends his way through the album, unleashing snazzy flourishes and palm-muted muscle as songs demand. His licks are sharp and precise, yet Kępka imbues an improvisational aura to his axework that keeps the music alluringly unpredictable (“The Essence,” “Terror Unknown”). Bassist Piotr Drobina delights as he plays beside Kępka while laying down vocals. It’s an impressive feat, considering the ground he covers on the bottom end. From octave hopping (“Born of Stitch and Flesh”) to beefy bass power chords (“Inspirit Creation”), Drobina is the perfect complement to Kępka for Species’ give-and-take stringed approach. Meanwhile, Przemysław Hampelski provides the rhythmic foundation for the band. He’s not as overtly ostentatious as Peart or Hoglan, but Hampelski impresses throughout Changelings, from laying down the groove-laced intro of “The Essence” to the simmering timekeeping on “Born of Stitch and Flesh.” All told, Species constructs an intricate musical experience where distinct ideas meld together to navigate an undeniably engaging aural exploit.

In a year where thrash’s harvest produced scant high-quality yields, Species delivered a cash crop of bangers.2 Changelings’ magic stems from the band’s penchant to zag when I expect them to zig. Finding moments to subvert listeners’ expectations keeps momentum and interest high, such as when the musical tension builds to an assumed climax, only to break to an understated solo before lurching back into high-intensity fulfillment. Species dazzles in this space, ever on the prowl to sink their claws further into your sonic psyche. In an efficient forty minutes, Changelings carves out an undeniable and relevant voice in a genre plagued by criticisms of stagnation and lack of innovation. If you crave music with originality, brawn, and fun, Species is a mandatory destination in your 2025 tour of metal.

Tracks to Check Out: “Inspirit Creation,” “The Essence,” “Born of Stitch and Flesh,” “Biological Masterpiece”

Coroner – Dissonance Theory Review

By Dolphin Whisperer

Whether it’s the mystifying hourglass of parenthood or a sudden collision of earth to brain, time erodes both in steady, unnoticeable stutters and blink-speed slides.1 I’m sure Coroner never quite planned to sit this long on new material, with its inception a decade ago sliding to present today in maturity. But after thirty-plus years, there’s little rush in releasing anything for the sake of the release itself. In thoughtful construction, a composed comeback will warrant discussion upon emergence and later on down the road. And with Dissonance Theory, both a foot in a deep thrash history and desire to explore a progressive sound, Coroner seeks to prove that a vital record can still exist under their storied name.

While the aged gap between albums presents as a hurdle to momentum, Coroner hasn’t been dormant leading up to Dissonance Theory, a healthy festival and gig routine since 2010 stoking their creative flame. And cornerstone guitarist Tommy Baron has remained engaged in studio management while weaving through extra-Coroner band activities over the years, like his brief stint with fellow thrash legends Kreator in the late ’90s2 or his more modern chug-a-lug with the alternative/industrial-laced 69 Chambers. Along this timeline, then, it makes sense that Dissonance Theory presents not as a widening of the take-it-or-leave-it Grin but as an exploration of how history has shaped their own interpretation of their sound. Lower-tuned tap ‘n’ go strides follow the splinter that spiraled dark groove machines like Nevermore and Morgana Lefay (“Consequence,” “Symmetry,” “Renewal”). Heavier anthemic numbers mirror the booming stadium feel of modern Kreator (“Sacrificial Lamb”), even verging on Lamb of God thrash-thuggery at its most simple (“Crisium Bound”). Many faces have worn Coroner over the years, but Coroner wearing them back reveals new wrinkles.

Yet Dissonance Theory hits what makes modern Coroner a force when layered guitar textures and screaming solos have space to warp and twist about dips into classic thrash breaks and screaming solos. Baron has always been an expressive guitarist. But in the long road since the Celtic Frosted days of RIP, he’s found a way both to whip the frenetic scramble of a pit-ready bridge into heroic fretboard gymnastics (“Consequence,” “Symmetry”) and drop jaws with melodic, bluesy tone-wailing (“Transparent Eye”). Likewise, jangling chords find resonant space and careful modulation in pocketed drum rhythms and steady, growling bass, showcasing the careful ear for harmony that Coroner has always endorsed (“The Law,” “Transparent Eye”). And though a couple tracks may use their space less effectively than others, finding a slight meandering in their joy of sound, Dissonance Theory breezes by in a veteran flex of songwriting maturity.

However, I take some issue with the ways in which the Bogren production job bolsters Coroner into the modern day. Again, part of what makes Coroner, well, Coroner is a vibrant guitar identity that twangs and twirls and cuts with buttery precision. And while a nasally compression still helps to define the chatter of Dissonance Theory’s most thrashing moments (“Consequence,” “Symmetry”), more weight finds a home in a thick and pulverizing rhythm tone. Ron Royce’s thick-stringed assault, naturally, finds a happy home with the lean into low-end emboldening, and that partnering with the muddier rhythm tone finds a unison richness on certain brooding runs (“Sacrificial Lamb” through “Symmetry”). Furthermore, new drummer Diego Rapacchietti finds a powerful march and kick clamor that creates a playful propulsion against bright, palm-muted runs (“Sacrificial Lamb,” “The Law”). Against the flat rhythm guitar characterization, alas, all of these production accents don’t always add up to song sections that feel distinct over the whole of the album.

Coroner’s influence continues to ripple through thrashy and deathly forms alike despite the current day being far removed from their initial declarations. But more importantly, Dissonance Theory proves that in 2025, Coroner has been paying attention to their progeny in order to shape a new face for the flock of hopefuls to follow. I don’t think Dissonance Theory carves quite as deep a notch as the Swiss stalwarts had hoped, though in its collective wisdom, it can be hard to put down. As first steps in a new direction, Dissonance Theory fills me with hope that a Coroner second coming will bear fruit at least once more with a greater level of determination.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Century Media Records | Bandcamp
Websites: coronerofficial.com | coronerofficial.bandcamp.com
Releases Worldwide: October 17th, 2025

#2025 #35 #CenturyMediaRecords #Coroner #DissonanceTheory #Kreator #LambOfGod #MorganaLefay #Nevermore #Oct25 #ProgressiveMetal #ProgressiveThrashMetal #Review #Reviews #SwissMetal #TechnicalThrashMetal #ThrashMetal

CORONER (Suïssa) presenta nou àlbum: "Dissonance Theory" #Coroner #TechnicalThrashMetal #Octubre2025 #Suïssa #NouÀlbum #Metall #Metal #MúsicaMetal #MetalMusic

Revocation – New Gods, New Masters Review

By Saunders

Following in the esteemed footsteps of resident Revocation expert Kronos is a daunting task. But with Kronos on an extended sabbatical, it’s time to step up as a long-term fanboy of Boston’s technical death-thrash juggernaut and put thoughts to their latest artistic endeavor, ninth LP, New Gods, New Masters. Mastermind Dave Davidson is joined by long-serving drummer Ash Pearson and newly minted members, Harry Lannon (guitars) and bassist Alex Weber, both seasoned underground musicians and hardly newbies to the extreme metal game. The other factor of interest is the addition of numerous guests, including Travis Ryan (Cattle Decapitation), Jonny Davy (Job for a Cowboy), lesser-known Israeli musician Gilad Hekselman, and Gorguts legend Luc Lemay. Is this a ploy of a band running low on ideas and seeking reinforcements, or a master stroke to add firepower to an already stacked arsenal?

Consistency has been a mainstay across Revocation’s now lengthy career. Occasional dips from the gold-plated standards of their unstoppable early to mid-career run notwithstanding, Revocation has never shit the bed or careened spectacularly off the rails. Nevertheless, nearing the twenty-year milestone since formation, the Angry Metal Guy’s Law of Diminishing Recordings™ looms ominously. Return to form Netherheaven brought a sharper focus and bloodstained atmosphere to the songwriting, delving deeper into Revocation’s deathly impulses with striking results. New Gods, New Masters stays on trend with recent efforts, charting a notably uglier, angrier route in comparison to their thrashier, playful early roots. Veering down increasingly gnarled and brutal spirals and weighing heavily into their deathly persona, New Gods, New Masters has serious fucking teeth, while failing to dull Revocation’s penchant for wildly inventive, technical material and progressive flourishes.

Rumbling into gear with gritty bass lines and thunderous drums, the opening title track ramps up tension before unfolding into a rugged, thrashy rager, complete with playful melodic break and typically mind-bending soloing. Cold and calculating, at its most beastly, New Gods, New Masters cuts an imposing figure, cranking heaviness to the max during the gritty, almost hardcore-leaning crunch of “Dystopian Vermin,” and venomous, blackened swarm of “Despiritualized.” Davidson’s vocals are at their most unhinged and anguished as the pair of gut-wrenching belters are further shaped by moody, unspooling solos, adding a touch of class and improv feel. Ginormous, lumbering grooves shake the core of “Confines of Infinity,” leaving a satisfyingly bruising punch, embellished by blistering blast sections, warp speed riffing, and killer guest spot by Travis Ryan. Featuring an impressively guttural Davy on guest vox, the awesomely and aptly titled “Cronenberged” is even better; its vicious, relentless intensity, mutated riffs, and authoritative rhythm section cut a brutal swathe into your scrambled brain. These are fine additions to Revocation’s stacked repertoire.

Standing out amongst its vocal counterparts, the brilliantly composed instrumental “The All Seeing” is a stunning piece. Pearson and Weber’s excellent combination and jittery, complex rhythms share the spotlight through a multifaceted, proggy journey, bolstered by intricate, groovy riffs and jazz-inspired soloing. Closer “Buried Epoch,” featuring Lemay, largely matches its weighty ambitions and song length, whipping blackened, death, thrash, tech, and prog ingredients into a pummeling, unpredictable, though largely cohesive epic. The new line-up doesn’t miss a beat, striking chemistry and maintaining Revocation’s trademark ear-popping technicality. Weber’s bass is afforded a chunky presence in the mix, lending melodic nuance and reinforced grunt to the album’s bleak, dystopian atmosphere, blunt force grooves, and brutal, uncompromising edge. The underrated Pearson puts in another exceptional performance behind the kit. Meanwhile, riff king Davidson and newcomer Lannon ensure Revocation’s axe-centric tech death-thrash arsenal and intricate, infectious riffcraft remains intact. Davidson’s corkscrewing, endlessly inventive solos feature soulful licks amidst bleaker tones, syncing with the album’s harsh, ominous atmosphere.

Injecting new blood into a familiar formula, New Gods, New Masters opens another shifting chapter for Revocation, though avoids spinning wheels. Marginally less consistent and compelling than Netherheaven, New Gods, New Masters nevertheless marks another fruitful return from Revocation. While it cannot quite match the band’s highest peaks, with songs falling more towards the very good rather than great range, New Gods, New Masters features the hallmarks of a grower. Initial reservations swiftly subsided, revealing another unique entry and exceptionally heavy, vitriolic burst of body slamming, thrashy tech death, catching songcraft and artful shredding.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 1411kbps mp3
Label: Metal Blade Records
Websites: revocation.bandcamp.com | revocationband.com | facebook.com/revocation
Releases Worldwide: September 26th, 2025

#2025 #35 #AmericanMetal #CattleDecapitation #DeathMetal #Gorguts #JobForACowboy #NewGods #NewMasters #ProgressiveMetal #Review #Reviews #Revocation #TechnicalDeathMetal #TechnicalThrashMetal #ThrashMetal

AMG Goes Ranking – Revocation

By Saunders

Revocation makes me feeling fucking old. It’s difficult to believe fifteen odd years have passed since stumbling across their phenomenal sophomore effort, Existence is Futile. It became instantly clear Revocation were one of the fresher, most exciting bands emerging in the modern metal scene of the era. Their career seemed to propel in fast forward as they pumped out top notch album after album, maintaining an impressive work rate and exceptional consistency, while refusing to repeat themselves. Couple of minor bumps along the way notwithstanding, Revocation’s vibrant, signature combination of technical death-thrash, infectious songwriting and acrobatic guitar hero shreddage from mastermind Dave Davidson has long cemented Revocation as a titanic force in the crowded realms of the modern metalverse.

Formed in 2006, the Bostonites unleashed their brash and confident debut Empire of the Obscene in 2008. From humble but exciting beginnings the Revo boys have proceeded to go on an absolute fucking tear across multiple albums, the most recent being the darker pathways and heavier pastures of 2022’s Netherheaven, arguably a return to form. Though in fairness Revocation have never dropped a dud, and despite a couple of minor career lulls, they have remained a dependably consistent force to be reckoned with.

September 26th, 2025 ushers in Revocation’s ninth LP, New Gods, New Masters. As anticipation grows for the star packed opus, what better time for our resident Revocation fanboys; including the return of the illustrious Kronos, who so eloquently championed the band on these very pages across multiple releases with his insightful wordsmithery and critical analysis, to unload our collective opinions on the band’s formidable discography. Nearly twenty years since their formation and boasting a catalog of rare consistency and power, we have our work cut out for us. Strap yourselves in…

Disclaimer: After careful consideration we have actioned the Human Waste/Despise the Sun Ranking Law of including Revocation’s highly regarded Teratogenesis EP from 2012 due to the consensus this is a meaty and essential mini-platter in the power packed Revocation repertoire.

The Rankings

Saunders

#9. The Outer Ones (2018) – While difficult to pinpoint, The Outer Ones remains an elusive Revocation album, and one I reach for least frequently, despite being one their more recent offerings. Although The Outer Ones doesn’t deviate savagely from the vice-tight yet elastic formula Revocation long since mastered, it leans deeper into murkier blackened death forays and features a cold, clinical and dissonant edge. Its darkly menacing sheen and blasty, death forward approach is responsible for some rousing moments and it’s easy to admire the album’s frantic, calculated intensity. Tunes like the rip-roaring opener “Of Unworldly Origin,” chunky brawler “The Outer Ones” and the thrashy, proggy blackened death of “Luciferous” highlight an album that has grown on me but ultimately falls short of the band’s other works.

#8. Empire of the Obscene (2008) – A bold and potential-packed debut, Empire of the Obscene rises well beyond a mere curiosity or roughshod early edition of Revocation’s rapidly evolving sound. I came to the debut after being first enamored by Existence is Futile and Chaos of Forms, both superior examples of the band’s exceptional early career highs. Still, Empire of the Obscene is a killer debut and refreshing, slashing technical thrash opus, with a healthy smattering of death. The vibrant, raging “Tail from the Crypt” is an early career highpoint, while other choice cuts include the bizarro “Suffer These Wounds,” and rippling axerobatics of “Exhumed Identity.” It’s solid stuff, yet inconsistencies creep in and some of the writing feels a tad overcooked, falling short of the ripping high standards and impeccable writing featured across the Revocation career arc

#7. Great is Our Sin (2016) – Perhaps the first time upon release a Revocation release failed to gain immediate traction. Again the sheer strength and power of its predecessors found Great is Our Sin fall a fraction short of the impeccable standards maintained during the first half dozen or so years of the band’s recording career. And it feels like an outlier merging the band’s different eras, pre and post-Revocation. Playful tech thrash energy, proggy dabbling, and darker, deathly pummels are in abundance, as per expectations. I appreciate the more thrash-centric turns, less prominent in their later era. Great is Our Sin features many of the strong attributes listeners have come to expect, sounding like a melodically mature yet overly familiar and safe album. The songwriting is consistently solid, featuring the odd flirtation with greatness. Old school flavored thrasher “Arbiters of the Apocalypse,” the prog-infused death-thrash of “Communion,” sinister, punishing thrust of “Only the Spineless Survive,” and epic, experimental rumble of “Cleaving Giants of Ice” are nuggety examples of the album’s finer moments.

#6. Netherheaven (2022) – Netherheaven marked a refreshing return to form after the solid if underwhelming, The Outer Ones. Kronos hit the nail on the head when he proclaimed Netherheaven to be the natural successor to Deathless, as similarities in tone, mood and execution are evident. Revocation flexed their deathly muscles and advanced musicianship in service of complex, yet undoubtedly catchy compositions, such as the brutally groovy throes of “Nihilistic Violence,” labyrinthine trip of “Strange and Eternal” and blast-addled, vocal trade-off on scorching closer “Re-Crucified.” Despite being enveloped with shadowy, sinister atmospheres, Netherheaven is imbued with a fun, adventurous spirit, also resulting in one of Revocation’s heaviest offerings. Davidson’s ever inspiring axework never ceases to amaze and songwriting finds a real sweet spot between grooving, chunky chugs, technical mastery, and throwbacks to their thrashy roots. Meanwhile, his increasingly versatile and confident vocals remain a somewhat underrated aspect of the Revocation experience. Not a career high point, but a great album nonetheless.

#5. Deathless (2014) – Revocation’s distinctive formula has long separated them from the hordes of tech death and thrash bands in the scene. One of Revocation’s greatest attributes is their ability to manipulate their craft and pivot in versatile directions. Deathless emerged as a darker, sinister trip down a fittingly deathlier path, creating a welcome stylistic deviation to evolve and keep any semblance of stagnation at bay. Though follow-up Great is Our Sin slightly deviated, Deathless marked the beginning of Revocation embracing the darker corners of their psyche, charting murkier, heavier and altogether more brutal, unforgiving terrain. Thankfully, Deathless didn’t abandon their knack for penning challenging, infectious, thrash-powered tech-death jams. Nor does Deathless forget how to have fun, as evidenced by the shout-along chorus and straightforward headbangable riffs adorning the title track. However, Deathless’ most impactful, jolting moments are delivered elsewhere. Classic opener “A Debt Owed to the Grave” and the cutthroat “Scorched Earth Policy” unleash vicious yet eloquently delivered evidence Revocation still thrash with the best of them. While the immense “Madness Opus” channels Revocation’s progressive inclinations within a barbed, death metal shell. Top-tier stuff.

#4: Revocation (2013) – The dark horse and underrated gem in the Revocation kit bag, their self-titled effort sparkled between the stunning Teratogenesis EP and the brooding tones and violent stomp of Deathless. Though not regularly mentioned amongst the band’s finer works, Revocation demands regular attention amidst an increasingly stacked catalog. Following up Chaos of Forms was always going to be a tough ask, however, Revocation proved up to the challenge. Revocation is a playful, quirky, fun-filled blast from go to whoa, keeping Revocation’s ever-evolving formula fresh and inspired. The versatile songwriting makes for a consistently gripping listen and one of their more diverse offerings. Whether belting out aggressive, full-throttle tech-thrash workouts (“The Hive,” “Numbing Agents”), warped tech death beatdowns (“Fracked,” “Scattering the Flock”), banjo-infected riff monsters (“Invidious”) or mosh-ready juggernauts (“Archfiend”), Revocation has all bases covered. A slightly more stock backend the only thing diminishing an otherwise top-notch album.

#3. Teratogenesis (2012) – Only the most curmudgeony, glass-half-empty pessimist discounts the short and sweet value of the often underrated EP format. Continuing a creatively booming and prolific hot streak, Teratogenesis is a wild, breakneck ride featuring the Revocation lads operating at the peak of their powers. New and old listeners alike would be foolish to neglect this action-packed beauty. If there is something slightly lacking in Revocation’s later career, it misses the outrageously fun and turbo-charged thrashiness and technically dazzling though infectious spirit so prevalent on Teratogenesis and surrounding releases. Revocation’s eye-popping instrumental prowess and whipsmart songwriting serve genuinely well-crafted, catchy songcraft and a bevy of sharp turning dynamic twists and killer riffs. “The Grip Tightens” bottles everything great about the Revocation sound into a career stunner. Elsewhere, “Manically Unleashed” unleashes cracking bursts of tech thrash precision amidst intricate melodic breaks and soul-searching solos, while “Bound By Desire” closes proceedings with a blast and thrash-riddled bang, replete with gorgeous melodic soloing and proggy touches.

#2. Chaos of Forms (2011) – Weirdly enough, I recall being fleetingly underwhelmed when Chaos of Forms dropped. Expectations were sky high, and Chaos of Forms represented a different beast to its immediate predecessor. Featuring an aggressive though more lighthearted, freewheeling tone and experimental streak, Chaos has long since become a personal favorite and modern metal classic. It is also rather simply the most fun Revocation album. Davidson is in his element, firing off some of the finest solos of his career to decorate fast-paced, quirky tech death-thrash compositions, aided by an unstoppable line-up, including the first to feature guitarist/vocalist Dan Gargiulo (Artificial Brain), adding an exciting extra dimension to the band’s sound. Unleashing a trio of instant Revocation classics right off the bat courtesy of “Cretin,” “Grave Robber” and “Harlot”, any notion Chaos of Forms being front-loaded is swiftly demolished as the album unfurls with banger after banger. From the melodic, singalong chorus of “No Funeral,” through to the brainy, twisting riffage of the title track, zippy, thrash-laden charge of “Beloved Horrifier,” and densely packed, stuttering tech death of “Reprogrammed,” Chaos is a versatile, sparkling jewel in the Revocation canon.

#1. Existence is Futile (2009) – Beyond the endearing factor, this was my first Revocation album and the warm fuzzy nostalgia associated; Revocation’s astonishing sophomore belter Existence is Futile emerged as a bottled lightning moment. Revocation’s impressively acrobatic musicianship and technical prowess was accelerated to new heights. However, the bulletproof songwriting and smart, yet dazzlingly intriguing arrangements were grounded by tight and aggressive songs that pulled no punches. An astonishing leap forward from an already exciting and accomplished debut, Existence is Futile has a raw energy and speedy, exhilarating urgency backed by polished, intricate songwriting, parasitic hooks and the warped, unmatched musicianship and advanced shreddery we have now long come to expect from Davidson and crew. Songs are largely stripped back in length from the debut, pared down to the bare essentials, maximizing impact. Davidson’s underrated vocals sound as vital as ever. A thoroughly gripping listen front to back, with the likes of “Pestilence Reigns,” “Deathonomics,” “The Brain Scramblers,” “Reanimaniac,” “Dismantle the Dictator” and ambitious closer “The Tragedy of Modern Ages” a handful of essential cuts.

Kronos

“Please help!” prayed my erstwhile colleagues, “our taste is underdeveloped to a near-blastular degree, and we are oh so disdraught! We seek but a simple ordination of technical death-thrash records but lack the True Knowledge of quality!”

Now moved, I descend from on high, gracing them not just with my presence but with my very acknowledgement of their pitiful existence: in one hand my catechism, in the other my nose. For those enlightened beyond the reflexive need to communicate the truths of quality, the ordering of Revocation records is a simple thing. One needs only to recognize the generational talent and drive of a one Dave Davidson, the extraordinary caliber of musicians that he has surrounded himself with, and analyze the triumphs and, shall we say, try-umphs, of their many recordings with an objective eye informed by a coherent understanding of the material and aesthetic universe in which they occur.

# 9 The Outer Ones (2018) – Revocation built a career based on an inseparable trinity of inventive riffs, creative songwriting, and infectious fun. In 2018 they denied this trinity and were cast into oblivion for four years thereafter; sentenced to relentless touring in which they played The Outer Ones lethargic and self-serious tech death alongside probably fifty other bands peddling similar stuff but more committed to it. That The Outer Ones seems to be their most popular release is a testament to the essential wickedness of our heathen age, that so many will follow a false prophecy.

#8 Great Is Our Sin (2016) – Indeed, but Revocation’s Slayer-worship record might have been better named Great Will Be Our Sin, given that its follow-up was The Outer Ones. But the title gets the point across; this was at the time their nastiest, deathiest album. Muscular and mean, Great Is Our Sin attempted brute-force repentance with burly but brainy tracks like “Monolithic Ignorance” serving up festering fun and “Only the Spineless Survive” providing the band’s most brutal beating until Netherheaven. Cruel as a crucifixion, Great is Our Sin is a treat, but not a joy, to experience, with too much of its runtime given to grinding grooves that don’t showcase the band’s strengths.

#7 Empire of the Obscene (2008) – In a way, it’s stunning to see how far Revocation have come since their debut: not far at all. In this we are confronted by the theopneustic nature of their art; seventeen years on, we can expect New Gods, New Masters to sound basically like Empire of the Obscene. This is death thrash that, while more fun than a barrel of monkeys and twice as rowdy, is impossible to find corny because it’s just too perfectly executed. For a young band, Revocation have a self-assuredness that evades many veteran groups, even as the death-thrash trinity’s endless invention pushes fast-moving songs up to and past the five-minute mark. From the dry but clear production, grinning art-school riffing to the waggling, showboat jazz soloing, every surface of the Revocation mold is here for the band to crack and ooze out of and pull away from on future recordings.

#6 Netherheaven (2022) – Netherheaven saw Revocation a three-piece for the first time since Chaos of Forms, and on firm footing as ever to make their first devoted death metal record. Netherheaven’s highlights (“Galleries of Morbid Artistry” and “Re-Crucified”) unfold like intricate torture machines from a macabre storybook, but mean, mid-paced grooves stick together and weigh down far too much of the record’s runtime. Netherheaven recovered much of the charm that The Outer Ones jettisoned but doubts as to the band’s future form remain.

#5 Existence is Futile (2009) – Empire of the Obscene really didn’t need to be improved upon, but Revocation are moved not by need but possibility. Existence is Futile’s leaner, focused writing got the band out of their own way. While some sections can come across a bit sparse, the difference in memorability between Empire and Existence is marked, with tracks like Deathonomics and Dismantle the Dictator becoming staple songs. Gruesome tech-thrash tracks like “Pestillence Reigns” and “The Brain Scramblers” were a revelation, and bruisers like “Dismantle the Dictator” and “Anthem of the Betrayed” gained the group countless new adherents.

#4 Revocation (2013) – One of the lesser-appreciated joys of the Revocation discography are the band’s actual texts, and nowhere are they more compelling than on their self-titled record. Whether railing against the rich, oil companies, or the American media environment, Revocation pairs incisive sing-alongs with inspiring musicianship; Davidson even pulls out a Banjo to parody cable news (“Invidious”). Revocation capped the first era of the Revocation discography in impeccable form with their most front-to-back memorable LP.

#3 Deathless (2014) – Deathless was a turning point for Revocation; having played every riff possible on six strings, Davidson and Gargiulo turned fully to seven, beginning a more sinister version of Revocation that persists to this day. Yet Deathless isn’t heavy just for the sake of being heavy; it’s just as lithe and unpredictable as the records before it, but with a grim grace to its winding songs and some of the band’s most emotionally resonant solo work (see “Witch Trials”) and most poignant political criticism (“Beholden to their corporate masters/ politicians privatizing genocide/ condolences offered by the same who pulled the trigger” – “The Fix”). Without the grating title track, the record would be just about perfect.

#2 Teratogenesis (2012) – Many will argue (incorrectly) that Teratogenesis, Revocation’s 2012 EP hot off of the release of Chaos of Forms, is the group’s magnum opus. Granted, “The Grip Tightens” might be their best song, and, granted again, “Spurn the Outstretched Hand” might be their second-best song. But after that one-two punch of career-defining greats, they only go on to deliver three more. Paltry! Sure, the sinister “Teratogenesis” would prove to be the blueprint for the rest of their career, and “Bound By Desire” would shame thousands of aspiring axe-smiths with its sheer pummeling speed, but in context, Teratogenesis is dessert, a follow-up to what came just before. And there’s no horn section!

#1 Chaos of Forms (2011) – That Chaos of Forms is the highest among the Revocation records is almost axiomatic. From the opening bass slide of “Cretin” to the raving closing of “Reprogrammed,” there’s not a second of Chaos of Forms that doesn’t reach out and pull you into a rictus grin. Every song is packed to the brim with creative riffs, brilliant musicianship and playful twists. Take, for instance, “Cradle Robber,” which tips a playful chorus riff repeatedly into an absolute vortex of synchronized drumming and trem-picking until it spills over, then transitions into a spectacular solo courtesy of the newly-joined Dan Gargioulo. It’s put in its place by a brain-melting Davidson solo seconds later, for which the whole band actually speeds up, seemingly just to one-up the new guy. The pair return together with a showboat riff half-consumed by synchronized harmonics. Music really does not get much more fun than this, especially when it’s narrated by the Grim Reaper. The only time it does is when the music is “The Watchers,” which breaks out into a gallop halfway through before stampeding its way into a big, brassy introduction for producer Pete Rutcho’s funky little organ solo. Simply divine.

Maddog

In 2012, my metal taste was impressionable but ravenous. I spotted a death-thrash EP from an unfamiliar band, available for free download via the now-defunct label Scion A/V. Teratogenesis’ balance of death-thrash riffs and thoughtful melodies swept me off my feet.

In 2015, I had imbibed deeply of extreme metal, but never been to a show. One frigid night in February, I timidly headed to Brighton Music Hall in Boston. While Fallujah fell victim to sound issues, the final opener Revocation smashed me to pieces. It was a watershed moment in my metamorphosis from metal fan to metal adorer.

In 2025, Revocation is a cornerstone of my music taste. I love death metal; I love thrash’s energy; I love creative songwriting; I can’t help but love Revocation. Most of all, I love their consistency. Even the other two classic bands I’ve helped rank here (Suffocation and Dying Fetus) don’t have as deep a bench of memorable releases.

And so, perhaps you’re better off ignoring our concerted but pitiful attempts to dissect Revocation’s history. After all, this is Revocation; just listen to all of it.

#9. Empire of the Obscene (2008). Empire of the Obscene is merely a good album, but it lay the groundwork for Revocation’s career. While Empire isn’t as thrashy as its successor Existence Is Futile, melodeath permeates both its guitar leads and its riffs, which are textbook but punchy (“Summon the Spawn”). Despite its inconsistency, Empire of the Obscene hints at Revocation’s burgeoning strengths. The most brutal segments are death metal riffcraft at its finest (“Fields of Predation”), while the tinges of proggy song development are impressive for a new band. Even a fair helping of deathcore rears its head, remaining sporadic enough to stay fresh. Empire of the Obscene is entertaining, but with a 56-minute runtime and an overreliance on cookie-cutter death metal riffs, it struggles to stick in my mind. It’s a fun listen, but falls short of Revocation’s best.

#8. Deathless (2014). While Deathless is a worthwhile release, it doesn’t excel in any of Revocation’s usual dimensions. Frequent mid-paced riffs lose my focus throughout (“Madness Opus”), and I forget swaths of the album soon after it ends. Deathless progs with mixed success, and its creative efforts are often hindered by their length and low energy (“Apex”). The dwindling of Revocation’s thrash influences kneecaps the record. However, the exceptions save Deathless from the compost bin. The death-thrash menace “Scorched Earth Policy” houses one of Revocation’s most frantic and dangerous riffs, while the proggy adventures of “Witch Trials” hit hard because they’re tied together by punchy melodies. Deathless doesn’t top its neighbors, but it’s no slouch.

#7. Netherheaven (2022). Netherheaven’s ordinariness feels out of place. Revocation’s latest album abandons the elements that distinguished them from the death metal masses. The proggy escapades, off-kilter riffs, and melodeath influences are gone; the fretboard wizardry is dialed back; even thrash takes a back seat. And yet, Netherheaven succeeds as stone-cold death metal. Easily Revocation’s most brutal release, Netherheaven wows with the gigantic “Galleries of Morbid Artistry” and the rifftastic closer “Re-Crucified.” The occasional glimpses of Revocation’s former flair also go a long way, like the playful opening of “Strange and Eternal.” That said, Netherheaven suffers from inconsistency, with middling second-half tracks like “The 9th Chasm.” The technical spectacles feel like dispassionate exercises, and the lack of variety makes the album less replayable than Revocation’s best works. Still, there’s no shame in making rock-solid death metal. It’s telling that even my seventh-favorite Revocation album made my 2022 list.

#6. Revocation (2013). Often overlooked, Revocation’s self-titled showcases some of the band’s greatest guitar work. At this stage of their career, Revocation had mastered both the weird and the powerful. On one end, “Fracked” might be the guitar highlight of the band’s career, culminating with a virtuosic but punishing chorus and a climactic solo. Standing opposite, “Spastic” is a jazzy spectacle but holds my awe throughout. Uniting these worlds, “Invidious” blends a banjo intro, playful melodies, and a furious thrashy back half, while the shapeshifting “Archfiend” is the first and only Revocation track to make me cry. Revocation occupies a turning point, taming the insanity of Chaos of Forms without compromising its death-thrash intensity. While the midsection of Revocation shines, the record is bookended by slightly weaker cuts. Still, although it has more great songs than excellent songs, Revocation is essential in the Revocation canon.

#5. Chaos of Forms (2011). The aptly-titled Chaos of Forms is the wildest release of Revocation’s career. The infinitely thrashy tracks that kick things off are a riot, but they’re the tamest part. The album’s guitar effects (“Harlot”), lilted jazzy melodies (“Conjuring the Cataclysm”), and 1970s-inspired key digressions (“The Watchers”) are maniacal. These experiments work because Revocation is having fun every step of the way. To ward off any doubts, Chaos of Forms also features some of Revocation’s fiercest death-thrash riffs; indeed, “No Funeral” might be the greatest live performance I’ve ever witnessed. However, strangeness requires discipline, which Chaos of Forms could use more of. Fanciful digressions crop up in unexpected places, often sticking around long enough to confuse but not long enough to convince. Chaos of Forms isn’t Revocation’s most memorable record, but it’s easily the most ambitious.

#4. Teratogenesis (2012). The 22-minute Teratogenesis utilizes the EP format brilliantly, offering an action-packed tour through Revocation’s style. “The Grip Tightens” is a perfect crystallization of death-thrash, complete with both an iconic opening riff and one of metal’s most enduring music videos. Meanwhile, “Maniacally Unleashed” adventures from thrashy riffing to serene melodies as well as any other track in Revocation’s oeuvre. Teratogenesis hones the guitar pyrotechnics that would define its successor Revocation, employing them for stratospheric climaxes. While Teratogenesis loses steam as it progresses, this says more about the sky-high bar set by the first three tracks. In historical perspective, Teratogenesis feels monumental in the same way as Suffocation’s Human Waste. It isn’t flawless, but it’s an indispensable encapsulation of Revocation’s career. I can’t imagine them without it.

#3. Existence Is Futile (2009). Bridging the gap between the straightforward Empire of the Obscene and the batshit Chaos of Forms, Existence Is Futile is Revocation’s most melo- and least mellow album. Skeletonwitch looms large, and the album infects me through its chunky riffs (“Pestilence Reigns”), its jubilant solos (“Anthem of the Betrayed”), and its irresistible choruses (“Reanimaniac”). Even still, Existence Is Futile’s most enduring achievement is its thirst for adventure. The narrative evolution of the instrumental “Across Forests and Fjords” resembles Insomnium’s Winter’s Gate; in stark contrast, the proggy title track mutates so many times that I can never quite recall when it starts or ends. Not once does this ever feel like an intellectual exercise. Rather, Existence Is Futile is Revocation’s most consistently fun release, achieving immortality through the energy of thrash and the creative power of prog death. Revocation’s sophomore record isn’t immune to thrash metal’s age-old pitfalls, and the album’s weaker riffs occasionally bleed together. Even so, Existence Is Futile is the highlight of Revocation’s high-octane early career.

#2. The Outer Ones (2018). Yes, if you want a party anthem, don’t look here. But fun takes many forms, and The Outer Ones’ narrative prowess stands out. The album’s Lovecraft-inspired tales and Revocation’s best-ever vocal performance hold each track together. The instruments follow suit. The riffs achieve an unholy blend of melodic weirdness (“The Outer Ones”) and raw force (“Of Unworldly Origin”). The choruses rank among Revocation’s best, peaking on the underrated blackened death spectacle “Luciferous.” Dave Davidson and Dan Gargiulo’s technical wizardry arguably reaches its apex, across both unhinged riffs and soaring solos (“Blood Atonement”). Even these highlights don’t do justice to The Outer Ones’ remarkable consistency; though it takes a small dip in “Vanitas” and peters out with “A Starless Darkness,” the album is otherwise a masterclass. While The Outer Ones disappointed some of the AMG herd, some bold commenters fought back, even demanding (rightfully) that we give Kronos a paddling. While Kronos has evaded justice so far, I hope to honor this request; The Outer Ones is one of Revocation’s creative peaks.

#1. Great Is Our Sin (2016). While each of these nine albums is impressive, nearly every one has notable flaws. Great Is Our Sin is the exception. All of Revocation’s strengths coalesce here, and every moment counts. While Netherheaven is Revocation’s most brutal album, Great Is Our Sin’s heftiest cuts can shatter steel (“Altars of Sacrifice”). While Chaos of Forms leans into the bizarre, Great Is Our Sin’s stealthy escapades are even more engaging (“The Exaltation”). While Revocation’s earlier releases emphasize the rhythm section, “Monolith of Ignorance” is a gleaming monument to bass- and drum-led evolution. While Existence Is Futile embraces the fun factor, “Altars of Sacrifice” could dunk on it with both feet planted. While Revocation showcased the emotional range of a guitar, “Cleaving Giants of Ice” stands toe-to-toe through its melodic dirge for polar ice caps. These disparate elements fuse into the masterful “Communion,” whose jazzy opening, thrashy verse, crushing chorus, and enthralling solo make it a landmark in both Revocation’s career and death metal history. Put simply, when I’m in the middle of any Great Is Our Sin track, I can’t imagine listening to anything else. That’s the surest sign of excellence.

A short, sharp primer to convince the unconvinced…

Empire of the Obscene (2008)

• “Tail from the Crypt”

Existence is Futile (2009)

• “Pestilence Reigns”
• “Reanimaniac”

Chaos of Forms (2011)

• “Cradle Robber”
• “No Funeral”

Teratogenesis (2012)

“The Grip Tightens”

• “Maniacally Unleashed”

Revocation (2013)

• “Numbing Agents”
• “Fracked”

Deathless ((2014)

• “Scorched Earth Policy”
• “Witch Trials”

Great is Our Sin (2016)

• “Arbiters of the Apocalypse”
• “Cleaving Giants of Ice”

The Outer Ones (2018)

• “The Outer Ones”
• “Luciferous”

Netherheaven (2022)

• “Strange and Eternal”
• “Nihilistic Violence”

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AMG’s Unsigned Band Rodeö: Zakula – White Forest Reign Lullabies

By Dolphin Whisperer

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

It takes a bit of effort to assemble the fickle tastes of the Rodeö gang, as distinguished and willing as they may be. Now, I won’t say that the lure of a unsigned gem requires trickery, but with a band like Zakula, explaining their style straight doesn’t stand as an option. These Athenian speed demons slap the simplest of tags across their Bandcamp page: death metal, black metal, thrash metal. And frustratingly, that’s the truth too! But what does it mean? Chunky riffs that dance about flailing tempos with a dramatic vocal character? Kind of. How about sneaky lead melodies that tumble against bright synth crashes into whiplash thrash and manic shrieks? White Forest Reign Lullabies doesn’t make explanation easy, but Zakula does play metal with lots of twists. This is the kind of challenge for which the Rodeö crew—now with the recently demoted n00b Tyme in the mix—lives! And, also proof that they too are capable of enjoyment. – Dolphin Whisperer

Zakula // White Forest Reign Lullabies [October 25th, 2024]

GardensTale: Zakula was initially sold to me as weirdo black metal. Foul! This is clearly weirdo tech thrash, a niche I seldom dabble in. As such, I find myself more unmoored than usual, with my frame of reference limited to Stam1na and my meager exposure to Vektor, whose frontman I disliked for his vocals and dislike more for his abuse. But while a few comparisons can be drawn from Zakula to either, this is a different beast altogether. White Forest Reign Lullabies is fast as hell, frequently discordant, and seems designed to keep you off-balance. The guitars throw me off the least, somehow, though their rapid tremolos and triplets and trips up and down the scales require close attention. More unsettling are the hoarse histrionics that make up the vocals, which sound ragged and desperate and are played backward on at least one occasion, and the erratic drums that go from maddeningly consistent to plain mad. But it’s the electronics that send me over the edge. The dissonant slides and squeaks and blips have a panic-inducing effect that reminds me of VAK at about nine times the speed. Somehow, though, the Greeks pull it all together with some excellent songwriting, mixing manic melodic riffs and staccato drums in opposition without letting it all descend into nonsensical noise. Some of the tracks do swerve a bit much from one extreme to another and lose the cohesion, but more often than not this one’s one heck of a ride, full of surprises, technical wizardry, and all the drugs that are not good for you. 3.5/5.0

Felagund: I enjoy the Rodeö feature much more when I have something positive to say about the album we’re reviewing. And truly, how could I hate on the off-kilter package that Zakula has delivered? White Forest Rain Lullabies is the band’s sophomore outing, and they’ve embraced the well-trod kitchen sink approach. Sure, Zakula might arrive on a wave of thrash, but stick around and you’ll be accosted by an undertow of industrial, prog, black metal, and noise. As you struggle against the deluge, you may hear dashes of Coroner, Voivod, and even Oingo Boingo. There’s plenty of synths, light orchestration, squealing guitars, and highly augmented, blackened vocals that’ll pull you even further out past the breakers. Yet somehow, these zany Greeks pull it off. Whether you’re looking for crunchy thrash riffs (“Olethros,” “Children of Haze,”) frenzied, cacophonous noise (“Melancholy,” “White Forest Rain Lullabies”) or spacy synths (“Remains,” “Children of Haze”) Zakula delivers the goods both cohesively and effectively, something even well-seasoned musicians struggle to do. Unfortunately, in their zeal to cram more genres, instrumentation, and ideas into each song, Zakula has inadvertently delivered a record in dire need of some editing. On a six-song album, there are three tracks that clock in at or over eight minutes, and each would have been leaner, meaner, and more impactful with just two to three minutes shaved off. This certainly isn’t a deal breaker, but it does stifle the momentum of an otherwise promising album. Still, I’d recommend White Forest Rain Lullabies, especially to all you little freaks out there. 3.0/5.0

Iceberg: While I tend to follow the Germanic school of thought that order and structure rule supreme, I have a soft spot for unpredictable, chaotic music. Dolph has zeroed in on this personal weakness, and continues to poke and prod me with insanity I can’t help but love. Zakula barely manages to control their chaos across an impressive forty minutes of music with White Forest Reign Lullabies, throwing so many genres against the wall that I’d waste word count listing them here. From the deliriously quick, heaving chromatic leads of “Όλεθρος” to the relentless, across-the-bar ostinati of “Remains,” Zakula sinks their hooks into the listener and refuses to let go. Mid-album heavyweight “Melancholy” is a twisting nine minutes that feels much shorter than that, and it’s middle section is straight from a Twilight Zone soundtrack, successfully blended with speed metal bookends. Every time I’ve come back to this record I’ve found a new corner to explore, a new chromatic tremolo, a new electronic underpinning. The title track and “Ton 618” don’t hit quite as hard as their album-mates, and there could be a case for some more editing, but the amount of fat amongst these tracks is pretty minimal. White Forest Reign Lullabies marks a triumph for the Athenians, and I can easily see it increasing in score as it continues to worm its way into my brainstem. An absolute must for fans of extreme music that blows right past anything resembling a boundary. 3.5/5.0

Alekhines Gun: If metal were a snack, White Forest Reign Lullabies would be the chunkiest of trail mix. Zakula assembles a brand of blackened thrash, piano, clean vocals, interludes, and electronica in an absurd, bizarrely effective middle finger to our stance at AMG Inc. that less is more. Do you love synth shreddage? Zakula pack in enough to make His Statue Falls blush and Fail Emotions suggest toning it down a bit. Do you love blackened thrash? White Forest Reign Lullabies pack in the spirit of Urn with pained vocals pulled straight from modern Asphyx, seeking to kick arse with beer and steel-toed boot. The sincerity behind the more metal riffs serves as a surprising counterpart to the instrumental excess on display here, keeping Zakula from being mistaken for a mere gimmick band. Look no further than the opening minute of “Melancholy” to realize this band is in no way here to mess around, even if it seems like they can’t commit to a style for long enough to do anything but. Some people will cry that this album lacks cohesion, identity, and focus, and those are people who don’t like fun. Your tolerance for this album will certainly depend on your joy for madcap zany ADHD (positive) song structures. But for those looking for a walk on the wild side, come enjoy some sweet Lullabies. Or as Zakula would ask, “How can less be more? That’s impossible!” 3.0/5.0

Thyme: Three years after their 2021 eponymous debut, Greek thrashers Zakula return with White Forest Reign Lullabies. From the first swift, surgically precise riff and chaotic keyboard run of opener, “Όλεθρος,” it’s clear Zakula is no straight-line descendant of the (some say tragically Overkill-less) Big Four — no sir. Zakula’s brand of blackened thrash has an everything-and-the-kitchen-sink quality to it that not only belies its genre tags but makes drawing valid comparisons difficult. If Mr. Bungle and Xoth paid Titan to Tachyons for a threesome, you’d at least be in the ballpark, as every second of this six-song, forty-minute tornado is engaging as fook. The songwriting, especially on the lengthier tracks (“Melancholy,” “Children of Haze”), showcases what Zakula does best. And that’s providing a wealth of melt-in-your-mouth goodness chock full of visceral riffs, Xothically spacy synths, and Schuldiner by way of Van Drunen1 vocals that imbue a particular deathly black menace to each of these thrashtastically jazzy (thrazzy? thrazztastic?)2 compositions. Full of twists, turns, and surprises designed to keep the listener guessing but never letting them get lost in the woods, White Forest Reign Lullabies is an album I strongly suggest you check out. At this rate, Zakula won’t stay Rodeö bait for much longer. 3.5/5.0

#AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo #AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo2024 #Asphyx #BlackMetal #Coroner #Death #GreekMetal #IndependentRelease #MrBungle #OingoBoingo #Review #Reviews #SelfRelease #Stam1na #TechnicalThrashMetal #ThrashMetal #TitanToTachyons #Vektor #Voivod #WhiteForestReignLullabies #Xoth #Zakula

AMG’s Unsigned Band Rodeö: Zakula – White Forest Reign Lullabies

By Dolphin Whisperer

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

It takes a bit of effort to assemble the fickle tastes of the Rodeö gang, as distinguished and willing as they may be. Now, I won’t say that the lure of a unsigned gem requires trickery, but with a band like Zakula, explaining their style straight doesn’t stand as an option. These Athenian speed demons slap the simplest of tags across their Bandcamp page: death metal, black metal, thrash metal. And frustratingly, that’s the truth too! But what does it mean? Chunky riffs that dance about flailing tempos with a dramatic vocal character? Kind of. How about sneaky lead melodies that tumble against bright synth crashes into whiplash thrash and manic shrieks? White Forest Reign Lullabies doesn’t make explanation easy, but Zakula does play metal with lots of twists. This is the kind of challenge for which the Rodeö crew—now with the recently demoted n00b Tyme in the mix—lives! And, also proof that they too are capable of enjoyment. – Dolphin Whisperer

Zakula // White Forest Reign Lullabies [October 25th, 2024]

GardensTale: Zakula was initially sold to me as weirdo black metal. Foul! This is clearly weirdo tech thrash, a niche I seldom dabble in. As such, I find myself more unmoored than usual, with my frame of reference limited to Stam1na and my meager exposure to Vektor, whose frontman I disliked for his vocals and dislike more for his abuse. But while a few comparisons can be drawn from Zakula to either, this is a different beast altogether. White Forest Reign Lullabies is fast as hell, frequently discordant, and seems designed to keep you off-balance. The guitars throw me off the least, somehow, though their rapid tremolos and triplets and trips up and down the scales require close attention. More unsettling are the hoarse histrionics that make up the vocals, which sound ragged and desperate and are played backward on at least one occasion, and the erratic drums that go from maddeningly consistent to plain mad. But it’s the electronics that send me over the edge. The dissonant slides and squeaks and blips have a panic-inducing effect that reminds me of VAK at about nine times the speed. Somehow, though, the Greeks pull it all together with some excellent songwriting, mixing manic melodic riffs and staccato drums in opposition without letting it all descend into nonsensical noise. Some of the tracks do swerve a bit much from one extreme to another and lose the cohesion, but more often than not this one’s one heck of a ride, full of surprises, technical wizardry, and all the drugs that are not good for you. 3.5/5.0

Felagund: I enjoy the Rodeö feature much more when I have something positive to say about the album we’re reviewing. And truly, how could I hate on the off-kilter package that Zakula has delivered? White Forest Rain Lullabies is the band’s sophomore outing, and they’ve embraced the well-trod kitchen sink approach. Sure, Zakula might arrive on a wave of thrash, but stick around and you’ll be accosted by an undertow of industrial, prog, black metal, and noise. As you struggle against the deluge, you may hear dashes of Coroner, Voivod, and even Oingo Boingo. There’s plenty of synths, light orchestration, squealing guitars, and highly augmented, blackened vocals that’ll pull you even further out past the breakers. Yet somehow, these zany Greeks pull it off. Whether you’re looking for crunchy thrash riffs (“Olethros,” “Children of Haze,”) frenzied, cacophonous noise (“Melancholy,” “White Forest Rain Lullabies”) or spacy synths (“Remains,” “Children of Haze”) Zakula delivers the goods both cohesively and effectively, something even well-seasoned musicians struggle to do. Unfortunately, in their zeal to cram more genres, instrumentation, and ideas into each song, Zakula has inadvertently delivered a record in dire need of some editing. On a six-song album, there are three tracks that clock in at or over eight minutes, and each would have been leaner, meaner, and more impactful with just two to three minutes shaved off. This certainly isn’t a deal breaker, but it does stifle the momentum of an otherwise promising album. Still, I’d recommend White Forest Rain Lullabies, especially to all you little freaks out there. 3.0/5.0

Iceberg: While I tend to follow the Germanic school of thought that order and structure rule supreme, I have a soft spot for unpredictable, chaotic music. Dolph has zeroed in on this personal weakness, and continues to poke and prod me with insanity I can’t help but love. Zakula barely manages to control their chaos across an impressive forty minutes of music with White Forest Reign Lullabies, throwing so many genres against the wall that I’d waste word count listing them here. From the deliriously quick, heaving chromatic leads of “Όλεθρος” to the relentless, across-the-bar ostinati of “Remains,” Zakula sinks their hooks into the listener and refuses to let go. Mid-album heavyweight “Melancholy” is a twisting nine minutes that feels much shorter than that, and it’s middle section is straight from a Twilight Zone soundtrack, successfully blended with speed metal bookends. Every time I’ve come back to this record I’ve found a new corner to explore, a new chromatic tremolo, a new electronic underpinning. The title track and “Ton 618” don’t hit quite as hard as their album-mates, and there could be a case for some more editing, but the amount of fat amongst these tracks is pretty minimal. White Forest Reign Lullabies marks a triumph for the Athenians, and I can easily see it increasing in score as it continues to worm its way into my brainstem. An absolute must for fans of extreme music that blows right past anything resembling a boundary. 3.5/5.0

Alekhines Gun: If metal were a snack, White Forest Reign Lullabies would be the chunkiest of trail mix. Zakula assembles a brand of blackened thrash, piano, clean vocals, interludes, and electronica in an absurd, bizarrely effective middle finger to our stance at AMG Inc. that less is more. Do you love synth shreddage? Zakula pack in enough to make His Statue Falls blush and Fail Emotions suggest toning it down a bit. Do you love blackened thrash? White Forest Reign Lullabies pack in the spirit of Urn with pained vocals pulled straight from modern Asphyx, seeking to kick arse with beer and steel-toed boot. The sincerity behind the more metal riffs serves as a surprising counterpart to the instrumental excess on display here, keeping Zakula from being mistaken for a mere gimmick band. Look no further than the opening minute of “Melancholy” to realize this band is in no way here to mess around, even if it seems like they can’t commit to a style for long enough to do anything but. Some people will cry that this album lacks cohesion, identity, and focus, and those are people who don’t like fun. Your tolerance for this album will certainly depend on your joy for madcap zany ADHD (positive) song structures. But for those looking for a walk on the wild side, come enjoy some sweet Lullabies. Or as Zakula would ask, “How can less be more? That’s impossible!” 3.0/5.0

Thyme: Three years after their 2021 eponymous debut, Greek thrashers Zakula return with White Forest Reign Lullabies. From the first swift, surgically precise riff and chaotic keyboard run of opener, “Όλεθρος,” it’s clear Zakula is no straight-line descendant of the (some say tragically Overkill-less) Big Four — no sir. Zakula’s brand of blackened thrash has an everything-and-the-kitchen-sink quality to it that not only belies its genre tags but makes drawing valid comparisons difficult. If Mr. Bungle and Xoth paid Titan to Tachyons for a threesome, you’d at least be in the ballpark, as every second of this six-song, forty-minute tornado is engaging as fook. The songwriting, especially on the lengthier tracks (“Melancholy,” “Children of Haze”), showcases what Zakula does best. And that’s providing a wealth of melt-in-your-mouth goodness chock full of visceral riffs, Xothically spacy synths, and Schuldiner by way of Van Drunen1 vocals that imbue a particular deathly black menace to each of these thrashtastically jazzy (thrazzy? thrazztastic?)2 compositions. Full of twists, turns, and surprises designed to keep the listener guessing but never letting them get lost in the woods, White Forest Reign Lullabies is an album I strongly suggest you check out. At this rate, Zakula won’t stay Rodeö bait for much longer. 3.5/5.0

#AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo #AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo2024 #Asphyx #BlackMetal #Coroner #Death #GreekMetal #IndependentRelease #MrBungle #OingoBoingo #Review #Reviews #SelfRelease #Stam1na #TechnicalThrashMetal #ThrashMetal #TitanToTachyons #Vektor #Voivod #WhiteForestReignLullabies #Xoth #Zakula

AMG’s Unsigned Band Rodeö: Zakula – White Forest Reign Lullabies

By Dolphin Whisperer

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

It takes a bit of effort to assemble the fickle tastes of the Rodeö gang, as distinguished and willing as they may be. Now, I won’t say that the lure of a unsigned gem requires trickery, but with a band like Zakula, explaining their style straight doesn’t stand as an option. These Athenian speed demons slap the simplest of tags across their Bandcamp page: death metal, black metal, thrash metal. And frustratingly, that’s the truth too! But what does it mean? Chunky riffs that dance about flailing tempos with a dramatic vocal character? Kind of. How about sneaky lead melodies that tumble against bright synth crashes into whiplash thrash and manic shrieks? White Forest Reign Lullabies doesn’t make explanation easy, but Zakula does play metal with lots of twists. This is the kind of challenge for which the Rodeö crew—now with the recently demoted n00b Tyme in the mix—lives! And, also proof that they too are capable of enjoyment. – Dolphin Whisperer

Zakula // White Forest Reign Lullabies [October 25th, 2024]

GardensTale: Zakula was initially sold to me as weirdo black metal. Foul! This is clearly weirdo tech thrash, a niche I seldom dabble in. As such, I find myself more unmoored than usual, with my frame of reference limited to Stam1na and my meager exposure to Vektor, whose frontman I disliked for his vocals and dislike more for his abuse. But while a few comparisons can be drawn from Zakula to either, this is a different beast altogether. White Forest Reign Lullabies is fast as hell, frequently discordant, and seems designed to keep you off-balance. The guitars throw me off the least, somehow, though their rapid tremolos and triplets and trips up and down the scales require close attention. More unsettling are the hoarse histrionics that make up the vocals, which sound ragged and desperate and are played backward on at least one occasion, and the erratic drums that go from maddeningly consistent to plain mad. But it’s the electronics that send me over the edge. The dissonant slides and squeaks and blips have a panic-inducing effect that reminds me of VAK at about nine times the speed. Somehow, though, the Greeks pull it all together with some excellent songwriting, mixing manic melodic riffs and staccato drums in opposition without letting it all descend into nonsensical noise. Some of the tracks do swerve a bit much from one extreme to another and lose the cohesion, but more often than not this one’s one heck of a ride, full of surprises, technical wizardry, and all the drugs that are not good for you. 3.5/5.0

Felagund: I enjoy the Rodeö feature much more when I have something positive to say about the album we’re reviewing. And truly, how could I hate on the off-kilter package that Zakula has delivered? White Forest Rain Lullabies is the band’s sophomore outing, and they’ve embraced the well-trod kitchen sink approach. Sure, Zakula might arrive on a wave of thrash, but stick around and you’ll be accosted by an undertow of industrial, prog, black metal, and noise. As you struggle against the deluge, you may hear dashes of Coroner, Voivod, and even Oingo Boingo. There’s plenty of synths, light orchestration, squealing guitars, and highly augmented, blackened vocals that’ll pull you even further out past the breakers. Yet somehow, these zany Greeks pull it off. Whether you’re looking for crunchy thrash riffs (“Olethros,” “Children of Haze,”) frenzied, cacophonous noise (“Melancholy,” “White Forest Rain Lullabies”) or spacy synths (“Remains,” “Children of Haze”) Zakula delivers the goods both cohesively and effectively, something even well-seasoned musicians struggle to do. Unfortunately, in their zeal to cram more genres, instrumentation, and ideas into each song, Zakula has inadvertently delivered a record in dire need of some editing. On a six-song album, there are three tracks that clock in at or over eight minutes, and each would have been leaner, meaner, and more impactful with just two to three minutes shaved off. This certainly isn’t a deal breaker, but it does stifle the momentum of an otherwise promising album. Still, I’d recommend White Forest Rain Lullabies, especially to all you little freaks out there. 3.0/5.0

Iceberg: While I tend to follow the Germanic school of thought that order and structure rule supreme, I have a soft spot for unpredictable, chaotic music. Dolph has zeroed in on this personal weakness, and continues to poke and prod me with insanity I can’t help but love. Zakula barely manages to control their chaos across an impressive forty minutes of music with White Forest Reign Lullabies, throwing so many genres against the wall that I’d waste word count listing them here. From the deliriously quick, heaving chromatic leads of “Όλεθρος” to the relentless, across-the-bar ostinati of “Remains,” Zakula sinks their hooks into the listener and refuses to let go. Mid-album heavyweight “Melancholy” is a twisting nine minutes that feels much shorter than that, and it’s middle section is straight from a Twilight Zone soundtrack, successfully blended with speed metal bookends. Every time I’ve come back to this record I’ve found a new corner to explore, a new chromatic tremolo, a new electronic underpinning. The title track and “Ton 618” don’t hit quite as hard as their album-mates, and there could be a case for some more editing, but the amount of fat amongst these tracks is pretty minimal. White Forest Reign Lullabies marks a triumph for the Athenians, and I can easily see it increasing in score as it continues to worm its way into my brainstem. An absolute must for fans of extreme music that blows right past anything resembling a boundary. 3.5/5.0

Alekhines Gun: If metal were a snack, White Forest Reign Lullabies would be the chunkiest of trail mix. Zakula assembles a brand of blackened thrash, piano, clean vocals, interludes, and electronica in an absurd, bizarrely effective middle finger to our stance at AMG Inc. that less is more. Do you love synth shreddage? Zakula pack in enough to make His Statue Falls blush and Fail Emotions suggest toning it down a bit. Do you love blackened thrash? White Forest Reign Lullabies pack in the spirit of Urn with pained vocals pulled straight from modern Asphyx, seeking to kick arse with beer and steel-toed boot. The sincerity behind the more metal riffs serves as a surprising counterpart to the instrumental excess on display here, keeping Zakula from being mistaken for a mere gimmick band. Look no further than the opening minute of “Melancholy” to realize this band is in no way here to mess around, even if it seems like they can’t commit to a style for long enough to do anything but. Some people will cry that this album lacks cohesion, identity, and focus, and those are people who don’t like fun. Your tolerance for this album will certainly depend on your joy for madcap zany ADHD (positive) song structures. But for those looking for a walk on the wild side, come enjoy some sweet Lullabies. Or as Zakula would ask, “How can less be more? That’s impossible!” 3.0/5.0

Thyme: Three years after their 2021 eponymous debut, Greek thrashers Zakula return with White Forest Reign Lullabies. From the first swift, surgically precise riff and chaotic keyboard run of opener, “Όλεθρος,” it’s clear Zakula is no straight-line descendant of the (some say tragically Overkill-less) Big Four — no sir. Zakula’s brand of blackened thrash has an everything-and-the-kitchen-sink quality to it that not only belies its genre tags but makes drawing valid comparisons difficult. If Mr. Bungle and Xoth paid Titan to Tachyons for a threesome, you’d at least be in the ballpark, as every second of this six-song, forty-minute tornado is engaging as fook. The songwriting, especially on the lengthier tracks (“Melancholy,” “Children of Haze”), showcases what Zakula does best. And that’s providing a wealth of melt-in-your-mouth goodness chock full of visceral riffs, Xothically spacy synths, and Schuldiner by way of Van Drunen1 vocals that imbue a particular deathly black menace to each of these thrashtastically jazzy (thrazzy? thrazztastic?)2 compositions. Full of twists, turns, and surprises designed to keep the listener guessing but never letting them get lost in the woods, White Forest Reign Lullabies is an album I strongly suggest you check out. At this rate, Zakula won’t stay Rodeö bait for much longer. 3.5/5.0

#AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo #AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo2024 #Asphyx #BlackMetal #Coroner #Death #GreekMetal #IndependentRelease #MrBungle #OingoBoingo #Review #Reviews #SelfRelease #Stam1na #TechnicalThrashMetal #ThrashMetal #TitanToTachyons #Vektor #Voivod #WhiteForestReignLullabies #Xoth #Zakula

Nocturnus AD – Unicursal Review

By Steel Druhm

The memories of my first spin of Nocturnus’ seminal debut The Key way back in 1990 are still fresh in my ancient brain. In a time when death metal was still fairly new and evolving in different directions, the quirky and inventive sci-fi style of Nocturnus made an impression. Formed by Morbid Angel ex-pat Mike Browning, his brainchild was different and dynamic. It sounded like nothing that came before and promised a new world of musical adventure. Sadly, that promise was never completely fulfilled. 1992s Thresholds was less interesting, and by the time 1999 Ethereal Tomb showed up, the thrill was gone. When Browning reformed his project as Nocturnus AD and dropped 2019s Paradox, it ignited a fresh rush of possibility. Was this the long-awaited successor to The Key? Sadly, it was not, though it was a rip-roaring dose of proggy death with a grand scope. Now we get Unicursal and like its predecessor, the ambition is on full display as Browning and company strive to create a new world of unusual soundscapes. It’s an hour of wild time signatures, twisting tempo shifts, and enough technical chops to overdose on, but is it the Nocturnus album we dream about like so many electric sheep?

With the same lineup that made Paradox such a wild ride, Nocturnus AD come out swinging with confidence and swagger on proper opener “The Ascension Throne of Osiris.” No time is wasted blasting you with frantic riffs that constantly mutate, and it’s easy to hear nods to the early days as the band runs amok. It’s satisfyingly heavy and quite linear, driven by a collection of effective riffs and Browning’s kinda-sorta harsh vocals. The keyboards are still very present, lending atmosphere and a cinematic dimension. It leaves you excited for what’s to come and shows the band is tight, mean, and hungry. “CephaloGod” keeps the positive momentum with a thrashy attack and a respectable number of twists and turns, but as things progress, Browning’s uniform, staccato shout-vocals start becoming tedious. Things don’t go completely prog-wonky until the nearly 9 minutes of “Mesolithic” arrive. Here we wander from tribal drumming through progressive tech-thrash segments that remind of Atheist one minute, and Mordred and Faith No More the next. As riffs swirl and corkscrew in dizzying patterns, cinematic keyboards swell and crest, making for impressive moments. As a song, however, it sometimes feels stitched and bolted together like some kind of space-age Frankenstein.

The best moments arrive on the back half of the album, which continues Paradox’s saga of Dr. Magus and his quest to conquer the Kabbalistic Tree of Life. “Mission Malkuth” runs heavier and meaner with references to The Key more obviously as it plows your lawn with wild riffs and ever-shifting tempos. There’s a grand scale to the music that commands your attention, the thrashy leads have bite and heft, but things run too long at over 7 minutes. “Hod, the Stellar Light” is the high point, with a thrashy energy that recalls Vektor’s best moments and the music also nods to Dimension Hatross era Voivod. “Netzach, the Fire of Victory” is probably the least impactful main track, with a sleepy, stop-start, slow-fast dynamic that never seems to evolve meaningfully. The instrumental outro that follows is also underwhelming and I’m not a fan of its 1950s sci-fi keyboards which read as cheeeball rather than quaintly retro. The combined 11-plus minutes of these so-so final tracks end Unicursal with a tired whimper. With an hour of dense prog/tech misbehavior, Unicursal feels like too much of a wild thing, and by the time I get to the end, I’m plenty fatigued. Excessive lengths partially undermine good songs, but this is prog so that’s to be expected. Some self-editing would have gone a long way regardless.

The talent here is unquestionable. Demian Heftel and William Koblak are insane guitar phenoms bringing endless streams of technical thunder to the material. They craft sharp thrash leads, amazing harmonies, and jaw-dropping solos. It would be hard to ask more of them. Josh Holdren’s keyboards are interesting and versatile, adding muted textures and prominent cinematic flourishes as the songs may require. At times the push-pull between the heavy guitars and the melodic keys can become awkward but more often it creates a fascinating tension. Unfortunately, Mike Browning’s vocals don’t add much to the musical maelstrom. He no longer does death vocals and his mostly powerless delivery sits between spoken word and monotone shouting. Where he used a blackened snarl on much of Paradox with backing guttural death roars from William Koblak, that’s all gone now. It’s the main weakness here and it saps vitality and danger from the sound.

I didn’t come in expecting Unicursal to recapture the magic of the past, though there are flashes of that ancient brilliance. Nocturnus AD isn’t really playing death metal anymore and I wish this was much heavier, but it’s a mostly fun, energetic outing sure to please fans of techy thrash. Now go blast The Key.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Profound Lore
Websites: facebook.com/nocturnusad | instagram.com/nocturnusad
Releases Worldwide: May 17th, 2024

#2024 #30 #AmericanMetal #Atheist #May24 #NocturnusAD #Paradox #ProfoundLoreRecords #ProgressiveMetal #ProgressiveThrashMetal #Review #Reviews #TechnicalThrashMetal #TheKey #Unicursal #Voivod

Nocturnus AD – Unicursal Review

By Steel Druhm

The memories of my first spin of Nocturnus’ seminal debut The Key way back in 1990 are still fresh in my ancient brain. In a time when death metal was still fairly new and evolving in different directions, the quirky and inventive sci-fi style of Nocturnus made an impression. Formed by Morbid Angel ex-pat Mike Browning, his brainchild was different and dynamic. It sounded like nothing that came before and promised a new world of musical adventure. Sadly, that promise was never completely fulfilled. 1992s Thresholds was less interesting, and by the time 1999 Ethereal Tomb showed up, the thrill was gone. When Browning reformed his project as Nocturnus AD and dropped 2019s Paradox, it ignited a fresh rush of possibility. Was this the long-awaited successor to The Key? Sadly, it was not, though it was a rip-roaring dose of proggy death with a grand scope. Now we get Unicursal and like its predecessor, the ambition is on full display as Browning and company strive to create a new world of unusual soundscapes. It’s an hour of wild time signatures, twisting tempo shifts, and enough technical chops to overdose on, but is it the Nocturnus album we dream about like so many electric sheep?

With the same lineup that made Paradox such a wild ride, Nocturnus AD come out swinging with confidence and swagger on proper opener “The Ascension Throne of Osiris.” No time is wasted blasting you with frantic riffs that constantly mutate, and it’s easy to hear nods to the early days as the band runs amok. It’s satisfyingly heavy and quite linear, driven by a collection of effective riffs and Browning’s kinda-sorta harsh vocals. The keyboards are still very present, lending atmosphere and a cinematic dimension. It leaves you excited for what’s to come and shows the band is tight, mean, and hungry. “CephaloGod” keeps the positive momentum with a thrashy attack and a respectable number of twists and turns, but as things progress, Browning’s uniform, staccato shout-vocals start becoming tedious. Things don’t go completely prog-wonky until the nearly 9 minutes of “Mesolithic” arrive. Here we wander from tribal drumming through progressive tech-thrash segments that remind of Atheist one minute, and Mordred and Faith No More the next. As riffs swirl and corkscrew in dizzying patterns, cinematic keyboards swell and crest, making for impressive moments. As a song, however, it sometimes feels stitched and bolted together like some kind of space-age Frankenstein.

The best moments arrive on the back half of the album, which continues Paradox’s saga of Dr. Magus and his quest to conquer the Kabbalistic Tree of Life. “Mission Malkuth” runs heavier and meaner with references to The Key more obviously as it plows your lawn with wild riffs and ever-shifting tempos. There’s a grand scale to the music that commands your attention, the thrashy leads have bite and heft, but things run too long at over 7 minutes. “Hod, the Stellar Light” is the high point, with a thrashy energy that recalls Vektor’s best moments and the music also nods to Dimension Hatross era Voivod. “Netzach, the Fire of Victory” is probably the least impactful main track, with a sleepy, stop-start, slow-fast dynamic that never seems to evolve meaningfully. The instrumental outro that follows is also underwhelming and I’m not a fan of its 1950s sci-fi keyboards which read as cheeeball rather than quaintly retro. The combined 11-plus minutes of these so-so final tracks end Unicursal with a tired whimper. With an hour of dense prog/tech misbehavior, Unicursal feels like too much of a wild thing, and by the time I get to the end, I’m plenty fatigued. Excessive lengths partially undermine good songs, but this is prog so that’s to be expected. Some self-editing would have gone a long way regardless.

The talent here is unquestionable. Demian Heftel and William Koblak are insane guitar phenoms bringing endless streams of technical thunder to the material. They craft sharp thrash leads, amazing harmonies, and jaw-dropping solos. It would be hard to ask more of them. Josh Holdren’s keyboards are interesting and versatile, adding muted textures and prominent cinematic flourishes as the songs may require. At times the push-pull between the heavy guitars and the melodic keys can become awkward but more often it creates a fascinating tension. Unfortunately, Mike Browning’s vocals don’t add much to the musical maelstrom. He no longer does death vocals and his mostly powerless delivery sits between spoken word and monotone shouting. Where he used a blackened snarl on much of Paradox with backing guttural death roars from William Koblak, that’s all gone now. It’s the main weakness here and it saps vitality and danger from the sound.

I didn’t come in expecting Unicursal to recapture the magic of the past, though there are flashes of that ancient brilliance. Nocturnus AD isn’t really playing death metal anymore and I wish this was much heavier, but it’s a mostly fun, energetic outing sure to please fans of techy thrash. Now go blast The Key.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Profound Lore
Websites: facebook.com/nocturnusad | instagram.com/nocturnusad
Releases Worldwide: May 17th, 2024

#2024 #30 #AmericanMetal #Atheist #May24 #NocturnusAD #Paradox #ProfoundLoreRecords #ProgressiveMetal #ProgressiveThrashMetal #Review #Reviews #TechnicalThrashMetal #TheKey #Unicursal #Voivod

Nocturnus AD – Unicursal Review

By Steel Druhm

The memories of my first spin of Nocturnus’ seminal debut The Key way back in 1990 are still fresh in my ancient brain. In a time when death metal was still fairly new and evolving in different directions, the quirky and inventive sci-fi style of Nocturnus made an impression. Formed by Morbid Angel ex-pat Mike Browning, his brainchild was different and dynamic. It sounded like nothing that came before and promised a new world of musical adventure. Sadly, that promise was never completely fulfilled. 1992s Thresholds was less interesting, and by the time 1999 Ethereal Tomb showed up, the thrill was gone. When Browning reformed his project as Nocturnus AD and dropped 2019s Paradox, it ignited a fresh rush of possibility. Was this the long-awaited successor to The Key? Sadly, it was not, though it was a rip-roaring dose of proggy death with a grand scope. Now we get Unicursal and like its predecessor, the ambition is on full display as Browning and company strive to create a new world of unusual soundscapes. It’s an hour of wild time signatures, twisting tempo shifts, and enough technical chops to overdose on, but is it the Nocturnus album we dream about like so many electric sheep?

With the same lineup that made Paradox such a wild ride, Nocturnus AD come out swinging with confidence and swagger on proper opener “The Ascension Throne of Osiris.” No time is wasted blasting you with frantic riffs that constantly mutate, and it’s easy to hear nods to the early days as the band runs amok. It’s satisfyingly heavy and quite linear, driven by a collection of effective riffs and Browning’s kinda-sorta harsh vocals. The keyboards are still very present, lending atmosphere and a cinematic dimension. It leaves you excited for what’s to come and shows the band is tight, mean, and hungry. “CephaloGod” keeps the positive momentum with a thrashy attack and a respectable number of twists and turns, but as things progress, Browning’s uniform, staccato shout-vocals start becoming tedious. Things don’t go completely prog-wonky until the nearly 9 minutes of “Mesolithic” arrive. Here we wander from tribal drumming through progressive tech-thrash segments that remind of Atheist one minute, and Mordred and Faith No More the next. As riffs swirl and corkscrew in dizzying patterns, cinematic keyboards swell and crest, making for impressive moments. As a song, however, it sometimes feels stitched and bolted together like some kind of space-age Frankenstein.

The best moments arrive on the back half of the album, which continues Paradox’s saga of Dr. Magus and his quest to conquer the Kabbalistic Tree of Life. “Mission Malkuth” runs heavier and meaner with references to The Key more obviously as it plows your lawn with wild riffs and ever-shifting tempos. There’s a grand scale to the music that commands your attention, the thrashy leads have bite and heft, but things run too long at over 7 minutes. “Hod, the Stellar Light” is the high point, with a thrashy energy that recalls Vektor’s best moments and the music also nods to Dimension Hatross era Voivod. “Netzach, the Fire of Victory” is probably the least impactful main track, with a sleepy, stop-start, slow-fast dynamic that never seems to evolve meaningfully. The instrumental outro that follows is also underwhelming and I’m not a fan of its 1950s sci-fi keyboards which read as cheeeball rather than quaintly retro. The combined 11-plus minutes of these so-so final tracks end Unicursal with a tired whimper. With an hour of dense prog/tech misbehavior, Unicursal feels like too much of a wild thing, and by the time I get to the end, I’m plenty fatigued. Excessive lengths partially undermine good songs, but this is prog so that’s to be expected. Some self-editing would have gone a long way regardless.

The talent here is unquestionable. Demian Heftel and William Koblak are insane guitar phenoms bringing endless streams of technical thunder to the material. They craft sharp thrash leads, amazing harmonies, and jaw-dropping solos. It would be hard to ask more of them. Josh Holdren’s keyboards are interesting and versatile, adding muted textures and prominent cinematic flourishes as the songs may require. At times the push-pull between the heavy guitars and the melodic keys can become awkward but more often it creates a fascinating tension. Unfortunately, Mike Browning’s vocals don’t add much to the musical maelstrom. He no longer does death vocals and his mostly powerless delivery sits between spoken word and monotone shouting. Where he used a blackened snarl on much of Paradox with backing guttural death roars from William Koblak, that’s all gone now. It’s the main weakness here and it saps vitality and danger from the sound.

I didn’t come in expecting Unicursal to recapture the magic of the past, though there are flashes of that ancient brilliance. Nocturnus AD isn’t really playing death metal anymore and I wish this was much heavier, but it’s a mostly fun, energetic outing sure to please fans of techy thrash. Now go blast The Key.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Profound Lore
Websites: facebook.com/nocturnusad | instagram.com/nocturnusad
Releases Worldwide: May 17th, 2024

#2024 #30 #AmericanMetal #Atheist #May24 #NocturnusAD #Paradox #ProfoundLoreRecords #ProgressiveMetal #ProgressiveThrashMetal #Review #Reviews #TechnicalThrashMetal #TheKey #Unicursal #Voivod

#NowPlaying #TheMetalDogIsNowPlaying
#Toxik
World Circus
World Circus

YouTube Search:
https://youtube.com/results?search_query=Toxik+World+Circus+World+Circus

Lyrics:
https://genius.com/Toxik-world-circus-lyrics

#thrashmetal #TechnicalThrashMetal #metal #indie #Progressivemetal