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Cognizance – In Light, No Shape Review

A “faster is better” philosophy has long defined technical death metal, with bands regularly operating at breakneck speeds.…
#NewsBeep #News #Music #2026 #3.5 #Archspire #BritishMetal #CA #Canada #Cognizance #DeathMetal #Entertainment #InLight #May26 #NoShape #Obscura #progressivedeathmetal #review #reviews #Revocation #TechnicalDeathMetal #TheFaceless #TheZenithpassage #WillowtipRecords
https://www.newsbeep.com/ca/643815/

A “faster is better” philosophy has long defined technical death metal, with bands regularly operating at breakneck speeds. While that approach requires undeniable virtuosity, I’ve always gravitated toward the genre’s more restrained, focused, and groove-oriented side. Cognizance initially walked the well-trodden path of bands like The Faceless and The Zenith Passage on their debut, Malignant Dominion, displaying speed and technicality in equal measure, but doing little to distinguish themselves from a crowded field. However, to their credit, the international quintet-turned-quartet has spent the past three albums gradually cementing their identity, culminating with 2024’s Phantazein. Though it got Stuck in the Filter, the record was packed with punishing grooves, strong songwriting, and phenomenal performances, containing all the qualities that keep me returning to the genre regularly. Two short years later, Cognizance returns with In Light, No Shape.

Much of Cognizance’s growth over the years stems from its stable lineup, though the recent departure of longtime vocalist Henry “Big Mac” Pryce disrupted that continuity. Guitarist Alex Baillie has since assumed vocal duties, marking a shift in the group’s sound. Baillie fills the role admirably, trading Pryce’s deathcore-leaning growls for a style closer to David Davidson (Revocation). In fact, In Light, No Shape—particularly tracks like “Vertical Illusion,” “Witness Marks,” “Chasm,” and “The Zone”—leans heavily into Revocation’s progressive stylings to its benefit. Drummers and longtime fans should already know the name David Diepold (ex-Obscura), but for anyone who doesn’t, consider this your required introduction. The dude absolutely cooks on this record. Whether through artful fills or splashy accents, he commands the material like a conductor leading an orchestra, sitting front and center in the record’s solid mix. Not to be outdone, guitarists Apostolis Karydis and Baillie, along with bassist Chris Binns, lock with Diepold effortlessly, never once sounding strained as they ebb between calibrated riffing, evocative solos, and ornate passages across the record’s 37 minutes.

Rather than following the Archspire school of extravagance, In Light, No Shape shows Karydis and Baillie easing off the accelerator, leaning more into atmosphere than velocity, with Diepold shouldering most of the speed. The duo utilizes more spacey arpeggiated passages (“A Reconfiguration,” “Witness Marks,” “A Game of Proliferation”) than on Phantazein, giving In Light, No Shape a feeling of dynamism and expansiveness. Accordingly, the songwriting strikes a keen balance between technical, immersive, and hooky, while leaving room for each element to breathe. Opener “Transient Fixations” wastes no time launching into hyperdrive, blasting and chugging through its sub‑three‑minute runtime, essentially functioning as an intro track that reaffirms that this is still the Cognizance fans will know. And while it feels a bit short, it flows seamlessly into “Inflection Chants'” groovy opening, making it work. Later, the surges of melodic tremolos and blasts that fuel “Chasm” give way to a haunting, aura-rich soundscape, where cymbal accents melt into jaunty tom fills before everything cascades back into overdrive. Similar structures drive tracks like “The Zone” and Song o’ the Year candidate “A Game of Proliferation,” while others (“Induced Contortions,” “Subterranean Incantation”) stick closer to standard tech death.

To state the obvious, tech death production usually sucks. Thankfully, In Light, No Shape isn’t totally brickwalled to hell, clocking in at a DR of 6. While that number looks average on paper,1 the mix retains a surprisingly natural edge while still delivering the punch and low-end presence needed to let the intricacies of the performances shine. Yes, it’s still compressed, but it never totally collapses on itself either. The guitars carry plenty of bite, avoiding the trap of sounding overly synthetic or overproduced, though the solos sit too far back in the mix for my liking. Likewise, the use of robotic spoken word interludes on tracks like “Inflection Chants” and “Transient Fixations” is conceptually fine, but they get lost behind the loud drums and end up feeling pointless. It’s a trade-off I can ultimately live with, though.

After multiple spins, In Light, No Shape stands toe-to-toe with Phantazein. Overcoming a key member’s departure isn’t easy, and while the album’s stylistic changes may feel reactive or too familiar, most come across as deliberate, pointing to a group resettling their identity. Cognizance continues to emerge as one of tech death’s most compelling acts and In Light, No Shape highlights what the genre can achieve when done right.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Willowtip Records
Websites: cognizance.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/cognizanceband
Releases Worldwide: May 1st, 2026

A “faster is better” philosophy has long defined technical death metal, with bands regularly operating at breakneck speeds. While that approach requires undeniable virtuosity, I’ve always gravitated toward the genre’s more restrained, focused, and groove-oriented side. Cognizance initially walked the well-trodden path of bands like The Faceless and The Zenith Passage on their debut, Malignant Dominion, displaying speed and technicality in equal measure, but doing little to distinguish themselves from a crowded field. However, to their credit, the international quintet-turned-quartet has spent the past three albums gradually cementing their identity, culminating with 2024’s Phantazein. Though it got Stuck in the Filter, the record was packed with punishing grooves, strong songwriting, and phenomenal performances, containing all the qualities that keep me returning to the genre regularly. Two short years later, Cognizance returns with In Light, No Shape.

Much of Cognizance’s growth over the years stems from its stable lineup, though the recent departure of longtime vocalist Henry “Big Mac” Pryce disrupted that continuity. Guitarist Alex Baillie has since assumed vocal duties, marking a shift in the group’s sound. Baillie fills the role admirably, trading Pryce’s deathcore-leaning growls for a style closer to David Davidson (Revocation). In fact, In Light, No Shape—particularly tracks like “Vertical Illusion,” “Witness Marks,” “Chasm,” and “The Zone”—leans heavily into Revocation’s progressive stylings to its benefit. Drummers and longtime fans should already know the name David Diepold (ex-Obscura), but for anyone who doesn’t, consider this your required introduction. The dude absolutely cooks on this record. Whether through artful fills or splashy accents, he commands the material like a conductor leading an orchestra, sitting front and center in the record’s solid mix. Not to be outdone, guitarists Apostolis Karydis and Baillie, along with bassist Chris Binns, lock with Diepold effortlessly, never once sounding strained as they ebb between calibrated riffing, evocative solos, and ornate passages across the record’s 37 minutes.

Rather than following the Archspire school of extravagance, In Light, No Shape shows Karydis and Baillie easing off the accelerator, leaning more into atmosphere than velocity, with Diepold shouldering most of the speed. The duo utilizes more spacey arpeggiated passages (“A Reconfiguration,” “Witness Marks,” “A Game of Proliferation”) than on Phantazein, giving In Light, No Shape a feeling of dynamism and expansiveness. Accordingly, the songwriting strikes a keen balance between technical, immersive, and hooky, while leaving room for each element to breathe. Opener “Transient Fixations” wastes no time launching into hyperdrive, blasting and chugging through its sub‑three‑minute runtime, essentially functioning as an intro track that reaffirms that this is still the Cognizance fans will know. And while it feels a bit short, it flows seamlessly into “Inflection Chants'” groovy opening, making it work. Later, the surges of melodic tremolos and blasts that fuel “Chasm” give way to a haunting, aura-rich soundscape, where cymbal accents melt into jaunty tom fills before everything cascades back into overdrive. Similar structures drive tracks like “The Zone” and Song o’ the Year candidate “A Game of Proliferation,” while others (“Induced Contortions,” “Subterranean Incantation”) stick closer to standard tech death.

To state the obvious, tech death production usually sucks. Thankfully, In Light, No Shape isn’t totally brickwalled to hell, clocking in at a DR of 6. While that number looks average on paper,1 the mix retains a surprisingly natural edge while still delivering the punch and low-end presence needed to let the intricacies of the performances shine. Yes, it’s still compressed, but it never totally collapses on itself either. The guitars carry plenty of bite, avoiding the trap of sounding overly synthetic or overproduced, though the solos sit too far back in the mix for my liking. Likewise, the use of robotic spoken word interludes on tracks like “Inflection Chants” and “Transient Fixations” is conceptually fine, but they get lost behind the loud drums and end up feeling pointless. It’s a trade-off I can ultimately live with, though.

After multiple spins, In Light, No Shape stands toe-to-toe with Phantazein. Overcoming a key member’s departure isn’t easy, and while the album’s stylistic changes may feel reactive or too familiar, most come across as deliberate, pointing to a group resettling their identity. Cognizance continues to emerge as one of tech death’s most compelling acts and In Light, No Shape highlights what the genre can achieve when done right.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Willowtip Records
Websites: cognizance.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/cognizanceband
Releases Worldwide: May 1st, 2026

A “faster is better” philosophy has long defined technical death metal, with bands regularly operating at breakneck speeds. While that approach requires undeniable virtuosity, I’ve always gravitated toward the genre’s more restrained, focused, and groove-oriented side. Cognizance initially walked the well-trodden path of bands like The Faceless and The Zenith Passage on their debut, Malignant Dominion, displaying speed and technicality in equal measure, but doing little to distinguish themselves from a crowded field. However, to their credit, the international quintet-turned-quartet has spent the past three albums gradually cementing their identity, culminating with 2024’s Phantazein. Though it got Stuck in the Filter, the record was packed with punishing grooves, strong songwriting, and phenomenal performances, containing all the qualities that keep me returning to the genre regularly. Two short years later, Cognizance returns with In Light, No Shape.

Much of Cognizance’s growth over the years stems from its stable lineup, though the recent departure of longtime vocalist Henry “Big Mac” Pryce disrupted that continuity. Guitarist Alex Baillie has since assumed vocal duties, marking a shift in the group’s sound. Baillie fills the role admirably, trading Pryce’s deathcore-leaning growls for a style closer to David Davidson (Revocation). In fact, In Light, No Shape—particularly tracks like “Vertical Illusion,” “Witness Marks,” “Chasm,” and “The Zone”—leans heavily into Revocation’s progressive stylings to its benefit. Drummers and longtime fans should already know the name David Diepold (ex-Obscura), but for anyone who doesn’t, consider this your required introduction. The dude absolutely cooks on this record. Whether through artful fills or splashy accents, he commands the material like a conductor leading an orchestra, sitting front and center in the record’s solid mix. Not to be outdone, guitarists Apostolis Karydis and Baillie, along with bassist Chris Binns, lock with Diepold effortlessly, never once sounding strained as they ebb between calibrated riffing, evocative solos, and ornate passages across the record’s 37 minutes.

Rather than following the Archspire school of extravagance, In Light, No Shape shows Karydis and Baillie easing off the accelerator, leaning more into atmosphere than velocity, with Diepold shouldering most of the speed. The duo utilizes more spacey arpeggiated passages (“A Reconfiguration,” “Witness Marks,” “A Game of Proliferation”) than on Phantazein, giving In Light, No Shape a feeling of dynamism and expansiveness. Accordingly, the songwriting strikes a keen balance between technical, immersive, and hooky, while leaving room for each element to breathe. Opener “Transient Fixations” wastes no time launching into hyperdrive, blasting and chugging through its sub‑three‑minute runtime, essentially functioning as an intro track that reaffirms that this is still the Cognizance fans will know. And while it feels a bit short, it flows seamlessly into “Inflection Chants'” groovy opening, making it work. Later, the surges of melodic tremolos and blasts that fuel “Chasm” give way to a haunting, aura-rich soundscape, where cymbal accents melt into jaunty tom fills before everything cascades back into overdrive. Similar structures drive tracks like “The Zone” and Song o’ the Year candidate “A Game of Proliferation,” while others (“Induced Contortions,” “Subterranean Incantation”) stick closer to standard tech death.

To state the obvious, tech death production usually sucks. Thankfully, In Light, No Shape isn’t totally brickwalled to hell, clocking in at a DR of 6. While that number looks average on paper,1 the mix retains a surprisingly natural edge while still delivering the punch and low-end presence needed to let the intricacies of the performances shine. Yes, it’s still compressed, but it never totally collapses on itself either. The guitars carry plenty of bite, avoiding the trap of sounding overly synthetic or overproduced, though the solos sit too far back in the mix for my liking. Likewise, the use of robotic spoken word interludes on tracks like “Inflection Chants” and “Transient Fixations” is conceptually fine, but they get lost behind the loud drums and end up feeling pointless. It’s a trade-off I can ultimately live with, though.

After multiple spins, In Light, No Shape stands toe-to-toe with Phantazein. Overcoming a key member’s departure isn’t easy, and while the album’s stylistic changes may feel reactive or too familiar, most come across as deliberate, pointing to a group resettling their identity. Cognizance continues to emerge as one of tech death’s most compelling acts and In Light, No Shape highlights what the genre can achieve when done right.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Willowtip Records
Websites: cognizance.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/cognizanceband
Releases Worldwide: May 1st, 2026

A “faster is better” philosophy has long defined technical death metal, with bands regularly operating at breakneck speeds. While that approach requires undeniable virtuosity, I’ve always gravitated toward the genre’s more restrained, focused, and groove-oriented side. Cognizance initially walked the well-trodden path of bands like The Faceless and The Zenith Passage on their debut, Malignant Dominion, displaying speed and technicality in equal measure, but doing little to distinguish themselves from a crowded field. However, to their credit, the international quintet-turned-quartet has spent the past three albums gradually cementing their identity, culminating with 2024’s Phantazein. Though it got Stuck in the Filter, the record was packed with punishing grooves, strong songwriting, and phenomenal performances, containing all the qualities that keep me returning to the genre regularly. Two short years later, Cognizance returns with In Light, No Shape.

Much of Cognizance’s growth over the years stems from its stable lineup, though the recent departure of longtime vocalist Henry “Big Mac” Pryce disrupted that continuity. Guitarist Alex Baillie has since assumed vocal duties, marking a shift in the group’s sound. Baillie fills the role admirably, trading Pryce’s deathcore-leaning growls for a style closer to David Davidson (Revocation). In fact, In Light, No Shape—particularly tracks like “Vertical Illusion,” “Witness Marks,” “Chasm,” and “The Zone”—leans heavily into Revocation’s progressive stylings to its benefit. Drummers and longtime fans should already know the name David Diepold (ex-Obscura), but for anyone who doesn’t, consider this your required introduction. The dude absolutely cooks on this record. Whether through artful fills or splashy accents, he commands the material like a conductor leading an orchestra, sitting front and center in the record’s solid mix. Not to be outdone, guitarists Apostolis Karydis and Baillie, along with bassist Chris Binns, lock with Diepold effortlessly, never once sounding strained as they ebb between calibrated riffing, evocative solos, and ornate passages across the record’s 37 minutes.

Rather than following the Archspire school of extravagance, In Light, No Shape shows Karydis and Baillie easing off the accelerator, leaning more into atmosphere than velocity, with Diepold shouldering most of the speed. The duo utilizes more spacey arpeggiated passages (“A Reconfiguration,” “Witness Marks,” “A Game of Proliferation”) than on Phantazein, giving In Light, No Shape a feeling of dynamism and expansiveness. Accordingly, the songwriting strikes a keen balance between technical, immersive, and hooky, while leaving room for each element to breathe. Opener “Transient Fixations” wastes no time launching into hyperdrive, blasting and chugging through its sub‑three‑minute runtime, essentially functioning as an intro track that reaffirms that this is still the Cognizance fans will know. And while it feels a bit short, it flows seamlessly into “Inflection Chants'” groovy opening, making it work. Later, the surges of melodic tremolos and blasts that fuel “Chasm” give way to a haunting, aura-rich soundscape, where cymbal accents melt into jaunty tom fills before everything cascades back into overdrive. Similar structures drive tracks like “The Zone” and Song o’ the Year candidate “A Game of Proliferation,” while others (“Induced Contortions,” “Subterranean Incantation”) stick closer to standard tech death.

To state the obvious, tech death production usually sucks. Thankfully, In Light, No Shape isn’t totally brickwalled to hell, clocking in at a DR of 6. While that number looks average on paper,1 the mix retains a surprisingly natural edge while still delivering the punch and low-end presence needed to let the intricacies of the performances shine. Yes, it’s still compressed, but it never totally collapses on itself either. The guitars carry plenty of bite, avoiding the trap of sounding overly synthetic or overproduced, though the solos sit too far back in the mix for my liking. Likewise, the use of robotic spoken word interludes on tracks like “Inflection Chants” and “Transient Fixations” is conceptually fine, but they get lost behind the loud drums and end up feeling pointless. It’s a trade-off I can ultimately live with, though.

After multiple spins, In Light, No Shape stands toe-to-toe with Phantazein. Overcoming a key member’s departure isn’t easy, and while the album’s stylistic changes may feel reactive or too familiar, most come across as deliberate, pointing to a group resettling their identity. Cognizance continues to emerge as one of tech death’s most compelling acts and In Light, No Shape highlights what the genre can achieve when done right.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Willowtip Records
Websites: cognizance.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/cognizanceband
Releases Worldwide: May 1st, 2026

A “faster is better” philosophy has long defined technical death metal, with bands regularly operating at breakneck speeds. While that approach requires undeniable virtuosity, I’ve always gravitated toward the genre’s more restrained, focused, and groove-oriented side. Cognizance initially walked the well-trodden path of bands like The Faceless and The Zenith Passage on their debut, Malignant Dominion, displaying speed and technicality in equal measure, but doing little to distinguish themselves from a crowded field. However, to their credit, the international quintet-turned-quartet has spent the past three albums gradually cementing their identity, culminating with 2024’s Phantazein. Though it got Stuck in the Filter, the record was packed with punishing grooves, strong songwriting, and phenomenal performances, containing all the qualities that keep me returning to the genre regularly. Two short years later, Cognizance returns with In Light, No Shape.

Much of Cognizance’s growth over the years stems from its stable lineup, though the recent departure of longtime vocalist Henry “Big Mac” Pryce disrupted that continuity. Guitarist Alex Baillie has since assumed vocal duties, marking a shift in the group’s sound. Baillie fills the role admirably, trading Pryce’s deathcore-leaning growls for a style closer to David Davidson (Revocation). In fact, In Light, No Shape—particularly tracks like “Vertical Illusion,” “Witness Marks,” “Chasm,” and “The Zone”—leans heavily into Revocation’s progressive stylings to its benefit. Drummers and longtime fans should already know the name David Diepold (ex-Obscura), but for anyone who doesn’t, consider this your required introduction. The dude absolutely cooks on this record. Whether through artful fills or splashy accents, he commands the material like a conductor leading an orchestra, sitting front and center in the record’s solid mix. Not to be outdone, guitarists Apostolis Karydis and Baillie, along with bassist Chris Binns, lock with Diepold effortlessly, never once sounding strained as they ebb between calibrated riffing, evocative solos, and ornate passages across the record’s 37 minutes.

Rather than following the Archspire school of extravagance, In Light, No Shape shows Karydis and Baillie easing off the accelerator, leaning more into atmosphere than velocity, with Diepold shouldering most of the speed. The duo utilizes more spacey arpeggiated passages (“A Reconfiguration,” “Witness Marks,” “A Game of Proliferation”) than on Phantazein, giving In Light, No Shape a feeling of dynamism and expansiveness. Accordingly, the songwriting strikes a keen balance between technical, immersive, and hooky, while leaving room for each element to breathe. Opener “Transient Fixations” wastes no time launching into hyperdrive, blasting and chugging through its sub‑three‑minute runtime, essentially functioning as an intro track that reaffirms that this is still the Cognizance fans will know. And while it feels a bit short, it flows seamlessly into “Inflection Chants'” groovy opening, making it work. Later, the surges of melodic tremolos and blasts that fuel “Chasm” give way to a haunting, aura-rich soundscape, where cymbal accents melt into jaunty tom fills before everything cascades back into overdrive. Similar structures drive tracks like “The Zone” and Song o’ the Year candidate “A Game of Proliferation,” while others (“Induced Contortions,” “Subterranean Incantation”) stick closer to standard tech death.

To state the obvious, tech death production usually sucks. Thankfully, In Light, No Shape isn’t totally brickwalled to hell, clocking in at a DR of 6. While that number looks average on paper,1 the mix retains a surprisingly natural edge while still delivering the punch and low-end presence needed to let the intricacies of the performances shine. Yes, it’s still compressed, but it never totally collapses on itself either. The guitars carry plenty of bite, avoiding the trap of sounding overly synthetic or overproduced, though the solos sit too far back in the mix for my liking. Likewise, the use of robotic spoken word interludes on tracks like “Inflection Chants” and “Transient Fixations” is conceptually fine, but they get lost behind the loud drums and end up feeling pointless. It’s a trade-off I can ultimately live with, though.

After multiple spins, In Light, No Shape stands toe-to-toe with Phantazein. Overcoming a key member’s departure isn’t easy, and while the album’s stylistic changes may feel reactive or too familiar, most come across as deliberate, pointing to a group resettling their identity. Cognizance continues to emerge as one of tech death’s most compelling acts and In Light, No Shape highlights what the genre can achieve when done right.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Willowtip Records
Websites: cognizance.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/cognizanceband
Releases Worldwide: May 1st, 2026

Way too long since I listened to these impeccable records. #TheFaceless

Way too long since I listened to these impeccable records. #TheFaceless

Way too long since I listened to these impeccable records. #TheFaceless

Way too long since I listened to these impeccable records. #TheFaceless

Way too long since I listened to these impeccable records. #TheFaceless

https://www.europesays.com/ie/217881/ Pillars of Cacophony – Paralipomena [Things You Might Have Missed 2025] #2025 #AustrianMetal #DeathMetal #Éire #Entertainment #IE #Ireland #Meshuggah #Music #Necrophagist #Paralipomena #PillarsOfCacophony #TechnicalDeathMetal #TeratogenRecords #TheFaceless #ThingsYouMightHaveMissed2025 #TYMHM #Ulcerate

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

By Owlswald

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

By Owlswald

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

By Owlswald

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

By Owlswald

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

By Owlswald

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wretched – Decay Review

By Dear Hollow

Wretched has always been a strange beast, incorporating the heft of deathcore with the technicality and atmosphere of more progressive acts. While breakout album (and my introduction to the band) Beyond the Gate was an elegantly elegiac deathcore album, swaying between the patient sprawls of “Birthing Sloth” and the bouncy chugs of “My Carrion,” follow-ups Sons of Perdition and Cannibal reflected the changing of the guard at vocals, as Glass Casket frontman Adam Cody injected an unhinged frenetic energy that had the band flirting with grind and thrash. Decay is an important album, released eleven years after its predecessor and existing as a return to form for a band that never had a slump.

While Cody injected the North Carolina act with a sense of urgency, the return of original vocalist Billy Powers returns Wretched to its more elegant and patient approaches. Although deathcore is on the bill, most of the proceeds recall The Black Dahlia Murder and Inferi rather than the Suicide Silences and Whitechapels of the world – landing somewhere in the core- and melo-realm of Vale of Pnath or early The Faceless.1 Yes, you’ll find some sticky chugs that punch through periodically, but the emphasis on the interplay between ominous and melodic shines brightest in Decay, reflecting a concept album that returns to the mythological roots as well as its musical roots – serving as a narrative prequel to the concept behind Beyond the Gate. Retaining that chthonic atmosphere, the balance between the light and dark and newfound experimentation are tantalizing, if imperfect, elements in the rebirth of Wretched.

If Beyond the Gate was your favorite Wretched record, Decay is a welcome return. Waltz-like 6/8 timing, drawn-out passages collapsing into Steve Funderburk’s signature melodic cascades, and periodic breakdowns amid the elegiac, adding a necessary spike to the beautiful melodies. Powers’ vocals, as is the case in debut The Exodus of Anatomy and Beyond the Gate, can feel a bit jarring in their raspier tone and regularly impressive range (feeling asynchronous with the elegant instrumental musings) – but he delivers a charismatic performance that drives the music forward. The bookends of Decay find themselves in this realm, balancing melody with chunky bite and shifting tempos (“Decay,” “The Royal Body,” “Blackout”), while more aggressive rhythms and anthemic lyrics offer bouncy fun (“Malus Incarnate,” “The Golden Tide,” “The Golden Skyway”). While this range works, some tracks feel too rooted in the former, relying on overly long and uninteresting sprawls rooted in semi-heavy open strum patterns (“The Crimson Sky”). Taken as a whole, the first act can be a bit too heavy a mood-setter than a series of interesting songs, as well, due to Wretched’s more subdued approach.

The centerpieces of Decay find Wretched tossing out the template and flipping off the comfort zone. Blessedly, the experimentation is not without an adequate transition, as its simultaneously most brutal and most melodic (“Radiance”) appears to move fluidly into the more experimental meat. Grungy clean vocals and wailing guitar solos move through an almost Southern-fried bluesy melodic template (“Clairvoyance”), a heavenly choral interlude gives rest before the journey (“The Mortal Line”), and the longest Wretched track in its discography: the sixteen-minute long “Behind the Glass”2 moves between moods of despair, forgiveness, and light through layers of guitar leads, violin, flutes, and even accordion, deteriorating into viciously dark chugs. This is capped off by an unsettling foray into dissonance and jagged rhythms (“Lights”), before returning to the more aggressive third act.

At its worst, Wretched offers either dull shimmies of monotonous strums or a progressive edge so wild it can be disorienting. What’s remarkable, though, is that it nonetheless feels distinctly like Wretched, and a return to the mythological heyday of their sophomore effort – that flexibility has been a strength all along. Sure, Powers’ vocals can feel out of place in the gentler moments, some tracks don’t land, the heft is lacking, and the track list is shaped like an epic with weird-ass moments to shake you loose, but the band’s storytelling through its songwriting is well intact, if not better, than eleven years ago. It’s a welcome return to form for Wretched and speaks to avenues of possibility. The fifth full-length suggests more potential than it achieves but the moral is the same: ironically, no decay in sight.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Metal Blade Records
Websites: wretchednc.bandcamp.com | wretchedmusic.com | facebook.com/wretchednc
Releases Worldwide: October 17th, 2025

#2025 #30 #AmericanMetal #Deathcore #Decay #GlassCasket #Inferi #MelodicDeathMetal #MelodicDeathcore #MetalBladeRecords #MirrorOfDeadFaces #Oct25 #ProgressiveDeathMetal #Review #Reviews #SuicideSilence #TechnicalDeathcore #TheBlackDahliaMurder #TheFaceless #ValeOfPnath #Whitechapel #Wretched

Wretched – Decay Review

By Dear Hollow

Wretched has always been a strange beast, incorporating the heft of deathcore with the technicality and atmosphere of more progressive acts. While breakout album (and my introduction to the band) Beyond the Gate was an elegantly elegiac deathcore album, swaying between the patient sprawls of “Birthing Sloth” and the bouncy chugs of “My Carrion,” follow-ups Sons of Perdition and Cannibal reflected the changing of the guard at vocals, as Glass Casket frontman Adam Cody injected an unhinged frenetic energy that had the band flirting with grind and thrash. Decay is an important album, released eleven years after its predecessor and existing as a return to form for a band that never had a slump.

While Cody injected the North Carolina act with a sense of urgency, the return of original vocalist Billy Powers returns Wretched to its more elegant and patient approaches. Although deathcore is on the bill, most of the proceeds recall The Black Dahlia Murder and Inferi rather than the Suicide Silences and Whitechapels of the world – landing somewhere in the core- and melo-realm of Vale of Pnath or early The Faceless.1 Yes, you’ll find some sticky chugs that punch through periodically, but the emphasis on the interplay between ominous and melodic shines brightest in Decay, reflecting a concept album that returns to the mythological roots as well as its musical roots – serving as a narrative prequel to the concept behind Beyond the Gate. Retaining that chthonic atmosphere, the balance between the light and dark and newfound experimentation are tantalizing, if imperfect, elements in the rebirth of Wretched.

If Beyond the Gate was your favorite Wretched record, Decay is a welcome return. Waltz-like 6/8 timing, drawn-out passages collapsing into Steve Funderburk’s signature melodic cascades, and periodic breakdowns amid the elegiac, adding a necessary spike to the beautiful melodies. Powers’ vocals, as is the case in debut The Exodus of Anatomy and Beyond the Gate, can feel a bit jarring in their raspier tone and regularly impressive range (feeling asynchronous with the elegant instrumental musings) – but he delivers a charismatic performance that drives the music forward. The bookends of Decay find themselves in this realm, balancing melody with chunky bite and shifting tempos (“Decay,” “The Royal Body,” “Blackout”), while more aggressive rhythms and anthemic lyrics offer bouncy fun (“Malus Incarnate,” “The Golden Tide,” “The Golden Skyway”). While this range works, some tracks feel too rooted in the former, relying on overly long and uninteresting sprawls rooted in semi-heavy open strum patterns (“The Crimson Sky”). Taken as a whole, the first act can be a bit too heavy a mood-setter than a series of interesting songs, as well, due to Wretched’s more subdued approach.

The centerpieces of Decay find Wretched tossing out the template and flipping off the comfort zone. Blessedly, the experimentation is not without an adequate transition, as its simultaneously most brutal and most melodic (“Radiance”) appears to move fluidly into the more experimental meat. Grungy clean vocals and wailing guitar solos move through an almost Southern-fried bluesy melodic template (“Clairvoyance”), a heavenly choral interlude gives rest before the journey (“The Mortal Line”), and the longest Wretched track in its discography: the sixteen-minute long “Behind the Glass”2 moves between moods of despair, forgiveness, and light through layers of guitar leads, violin, flutes, and even accordion, deteriorating into viciously dark chugs. This is capped off by an unsettling foray into dissonance and jagged rhythms (“Lights”), before returning to the more aggressive third act.

At its worst, Wretched offers either dull shimmies of monotonous strums or a progressive edge so wild it can be disorienting. What’s remarkable, though, is that it nonetheless feels distinctly like Wretched, and a return to the mythological heyday of their sophomore effort – that flexibility has been a strength all along. Sure, Powers’ vocals can feel out of place in the gentler moments, some tracks don’t land, the heft is lacking, and the track list is shaped like an epic with weird-ass moments to shake you loose, but the band’s storytelling through its songwriting is well intact, if not better, than eleven years ago. It’s a welcome return to form for Wretched and speaks to avenues of possibility. The fifth full-length suggests more potential than it achieves but the moral is the same: ironically, no decay in sight.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Metal Blade Records
Websites: wretchednc.bandcamp.com | wretchedmusic.com | facebook.com/wretchednc
Releases Worldwide: October 17th, 2025

#2025 #30 #AmericanMetal #Deathcore #Decay #GlassCasket #Inferi #MelodicDeathMetal #MelodicDeathcore #MetalBladeRecords #MirrorOfDeadFaces #Oct25 #ProgressiveDeathMetal #Review #Reviews #SuicideSilence #TechnicalDeathcore #TheBlackDahliaMurder #TheFaceless #ValeOfPnath #Whitechapel #Wretched

Wretched – Decay Review

By Dear Hollow

Wretched has always been a strange beast, incorporating the heft of deathcore with the technicality and atmosphere of more progressive acts. While breakout album (and my introduction to the band) Beyond the Gate was an elegantly elegiac deathcore album, swaying between the patient sprawls of “Birthing Sloth” and the bouncy chugs of “My Carrion,” follow-ups Sons of Perdition and Cannibal reflected the changing of the guard at vocals, as Glass Casket frontman Adam Cody injected an unhinged frenetic energy that had the band flirting with grind and thrash. Decay is an important album, released eleven years after its predecessor and existing as a return to form for a band that never had a slump.

While Cody injected the North Carolina act with a sense of urgency, the return of original vocalist Billy Powers returns Wretched to its more elegant and patient approaches. Although deathcore is on the bill, most of the proceeds recall The Black Dahlia Murder and Inferi rather than the Suicide Silences and Whitechapels of the world – landing somewhere in the core- and melo-realm of Vale of Pnath or early The Faceless.1 Yes, you’ll find some sticky chugs that punch through periodically, but the emphasis on the interplay between ominous and melodic shines brightest in Decay, reflecting a concept album that returns to the mythological roots as well as its musical roots – serving as a narrative prequel to the concept behind Beyond the Gate. Retaining that chthonic atmosphere, the balance between the light and dark and newfound experimentation are tantalizing, if imperfect, elements in the rebirth of Wretched.

If Beyond the Gate was your favorite Wretched record, Decay is a welcome return. Waltz-like 6/8 timing, drawn-out passages collapsing into Steve Funderburk’s signature melodic cascades, and periodic breakdowns amid the elegiac, adding a necessary spike to the beautiful melodies. Powers’ vocals, as is the case in debut The Exodus of Anatomy and Beyond the Gate, can feel a bit jarring in their raspier tone and regularly impressive range (feeling asynchronous with the elegant instrumental musings) – but he delivers a charismatic performance that drives the music forward. The bookends of Decay find themselves in this realm, balancing melody with chunky bite and shifting tempos (“Decay,” “The Royal Body,” “Blackout”), while more aggressive rhythms and anthemic lyrics offer bouncy fun (“Malus Incarnate,” “The Golden Tide,” “The Golden Skyway”). While this range works, some tracks feel too rooted in the former, relying on overly long and uninteresting sprawls rooted in semi-heavy open strum patterns (“The Crimson Sky”). Taken as a whole, the first act can be a bit too heavy a mood-setter than a series of interesting songs, as well, due to Wretched’s more subdued approach.

The centerpieces of Decay find Wretched tossing out the template and flipping off the comfort zone. Blessedly, the experimentation is not without an adequate transition, as its simultaneously most brutal and most melodic (“Radiance”) appears to move fluidly into the more experimental meat. Grungy clean vocals and wailing guitar solos move through an almost Southern-fried bluesy melodic template (“Clairvoyance”), a heavenly choral interlude gives rest before the journey (“The Mortal Line”), and the longest Wretched track in its discography: the sixteen-minute long “Behind the Glass”2 moves between moods of despair, forgiveness, and light through layers of guitar leads, violin, flutes, and even accordion, deteriorating into viciously dark chugs. This is capped off by an unsettling foray into dissonance and jagged rhythms (“Lights”), before returning to the more aggressive third act.

At its worst, Wretched offers either dull shimmies of monotonous strums or a progressive edge so wild it can be disorienting. What’s remarkable, though, is that it nonetheless feels distinctly like Wretched, and a return to the mythological heyday of their sophomore effort – that flexibility has been a strength all along. Sure, Powers’ vocals can feel out of place in the gentler moments, some tracks don’t land, the heft is lacking, and the track list is shaped like an epic with weird-ass moments to shake you loose, but the band’s storytelling through its songwriting is well intact, if not better, than eleven years ago. It’s a welcome return to form for Wretched and speaks to avenues of possibility. The fifth full-length suggests more potential than it achieves but the moral is the same: ironically, no decay in sight.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Metal Blade Records
Websites: wretchednc.bandcamp.com | wretchedmusic.com | facebook.com/wretchednc
Releases Worldwide: October 17th, 2025

#2025 #30 #AmericanMetal #Deathcore #Decay #GlassCasket #Inferi #MelodicDeathMetal #MelodicDeathcore #MetalBladeRecords #MirrorOfDeadFaces #Oct25 #ProgressiveDeathMetal #Review #Reviews #SuicideSilence #TechnicalDeathcore #TheBlackDahliaMurder #TheFaceless #ValeOfPnath #Whitechapel #Wretched

Wretched – Decay Review

By Dear Hollow

Wretched has always been a strange beast, incorporating the heft of deathcore with the technicality and atmosphere of more progressive acts. While breakout album (and my introduction to the band) Beyond the Gate was an elegantly elegiac deathcore album, swaying between the patient sprawls of “Birthing Sloth” and the bouncy chugs of “My Carrion,” follow-ups Sons of Perdition and Cannibal reflected the changing of the guard at vocals, as Glass Casket frontman Adam Cody injected an unhinged frenetic energy that had the band flirting with grind and thrash. Decay is an important album, released eleven years after its predecessor and existing as a return to form for a band that never had a slump.

While Cody injected the North Carolina act with a sense of urgency, the return of original vocalist Billy Powers returns Wretched to its more elegant and patient approaches. Although deathcore is on the bill, most of the proceeds recall The Black Dahlia Murder and Inferi rather than the Suicide Silences and Whitechapels of the world – landing somewhere in the core- and melo-realm of Vale of Pnath or early The Faceless.1 Yes, you’ll find some sticky chugs that punch through periodically, but the emphasis on the interplay between ominous and melodic shines brightest in Decay, reflecting a concept album that returns to the mythological roots as well as its musical roots – serving as a narrative prequel to the concept behind Beyond the Gate. Retaining that chthonic atmosphere, the balance between the light and dark and newfound experimentation are tantalizing, if imperfect, elements in the rebirth of Wretched.

If Beyond the Gate was your favorite Wretched record, Decay is a welcome return. Waltz-like 6/8 timing, drawn-out passages collapsing into Steve Funderburk’s signature melodic cascades, and periodic breakdowns amid the elegiac, adding a necessary spike to the beautiful melodies. Powers’ vocals, as is the case in debut The Exodus of Anatomy and Beyond the Gate, can feel a bit jarring in their raspier tone and regularly impressive range (feeling asynchronous with the elegant instrumental musings) – but he delivers a charismatic performance that drives the music forward. The bookends of Decay find themselves in this realm, balancing melody with chunky bite and shifting tempos (“Decay,” “The Royal Body,” “Blackout”), while more aggressive rhythms and anthemic lyrics offer bouncy fun (“Malus Incarnate,” “The Golden Tide,” “The Golden Skyway”). While this range works, some tracks feel too rooted in the former, relying on overly long and uninteresting sprawls rooted in semi-heavy open strum patterns (“The Crimson Sky”). Taken as a whole, the first act can be a bit too heavy a mood-setter than a series of interesting songs, as well, due to Wretched’s more subdued approach.

The centerpieces of Decay find Wretched tossing out the template and flipping off the comfort zone. Blessedly, the experimentation is not without an adequate transition, as its simultaneously most brutal and most melodic (“Radiance”) appears to move fluidly into the more experimental meat. Grungy clean vocals and wailing guitar solos move through an almost Southern-fried bluesy melodic template (“Clairvoyance”), a heavenly choral interlude gives rest before the journey (“The Mortal Line”), and the longest Wretched track in its discography: the sixteen-minute long “Behind the Glass”2 moves between moods of despair, forgiveness, and light through layers of guitar leads, violin, flutes, and even accordion, deteriorating into viciously dark chugs. This is capped off by an unsettling foray into dissonance and jagged rhythms (“Lights”), before returning to the more aggressive third act.

At its worst, Wretched offers either dull shimmies of monotonous strums or a progressive edge so wild it can be disorienting. What’s remarkable, though, is that it nonetheless feels distinctly like Wretched, and a return to the mythological heyday of their sophomore effort – that flexibility has been a strength all along. Sure, Powers’ vocals can feel out of place in the gentler moments, some tracks don’t land, the heft is lacking, and the track list is shaped like an epic with weird-ass moments to shake you loose, but the band’s storytelling through its songwriting is well intact, if not better, than eleven years ago. It’s a welcome return to form for Wretched and speaks to avenues of possibility. The fifth full-length suggests more potential than it achieves but the moral is the same: ironically, no decay in sight.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Metal Blade Records
Websites: wretchednc.bandcamp.com | wretchedmusic.com | facebook.com/wretchednc
Releases Worldwide: October 17th, 2025

#2025 #30 #AmericanMetal #Deathcore #Decay #GlassCasket #Inferi #MelodicDeathMetal #MelodicDeathcore #MetalBladeRecords #MirrorOfDeadFaces #Oct25 #ProgressiveDeathMetal #Review #Reviews #SuicideSilence #TechnicalDeathcore #TheBlackDahliaMurder #TheFaceless #ValeOfPnath #Whitechapel #Wretched

Wretched – Decay Review

By Dear Hollow

Wretched has always been a strange beast, incorporating the heft of deathcore with the technicality and atmosphere of more progressive acts. While breakout album (and my introduction to the band) Beyond the Gate was an elegantly elegiac deathcore album, swaying between the patient sprawls of “Birthing Sloth” and the bouncy chugs of “My Carrion,” follow-ups Sons of Perdition and Cannibal reflected the changing of the guard at vocals, as Glass Casket frontman Adam Cody injected an unhinged frenetic energy that had the band flirting with grind and thrash. Decay is an important album, released eleven years after its predecessor and existing as a return to form for a band that never had a slump.

While Cody injected the North Carolina act with a sense of urgency, the return of original vocalist Billy Powers returns Wretched to its more elegant and patient approaches. Although deathcore is on the bill, most of the proceeds recall The Black Dahlia Murder and Inferi rather than the Suicide Silences and Whitechapels of the world – landing somewhere in the core- and melo-realm of Vale of Pnath or early The Faceless.1 Yes, you’ll find some sticky chugs that punch through periodically, but the emphasis on the interplay between ominous and melodic shines brightest in Decay, reflecting a concept album that returns to the mythological roots as well as its musical roots – serving as a narrative prequel to the concept behind Beyond the Gate. Retaining that chthonic atmosphere, the balance between the light and dark and newfound experimentation are tantalizing, if imperfect, elements in the rebirth of Wretched.

If Beyond the Gate was your favorite Wretched record, Decay is a welcome return. Waltz-like 6/8 timing, drawn-out passages collapsing into Steve Funderburk’s signature melodic cascades, and periodic breakdowns amid the elegiac, adding a necessary spike to the beautiful melodies. Powers’ vocals, as is the case in debut The Exodus of Anatomy and Beyond the Gate, can feel a bit jarring in their raspier tone and regularly impressive range (feeling asynchronous with the elegant instrumental musings) – but he delivers a charismatic performance that drives the music forward. The bookends of Decay find themselves in this realm, balancing melody with chunky bite and shifting tempos (“Decay,” “The Royal Body,” “Blackout”), while more aggressive rhythms and anthemic lyrics offer bouncy fun (“Malus Incarnate,” “The Golden Tide,” “The Golden Skyway”). While this range works, some tracks feel too rooted in the former, relying on overly long and uninteresting sprawls rooted in semi-heavy open strum patterns (“The Crimson Sky”). Taken as a whole, the first act can be a bit too heavy a mood-setter than a series of interesting songs, as well, due to Wretched’s more subdued approach.

The centerpieces of Decay find Wretched tossing out the template and flipping off the comfort zone. Blessedly, the experimentation is not without an adequate transition, as its simultaneously most brutal and most melodic (“Radiance”) appears to move fluidly into the more experimental meat. Grungy clean vocals and wailing guitar solos move through an almost Southern-fried bluesy melodic template (“Clairvoyance”), a heavenly choral interlude gives rest before the journey (“The Mortal Line”), and the longest Wretched track in its discography: the sixteen-minute long “Behind the Glass”2 moves between moods of despair, forgiveness, and light through layers of guitar leads, violin, flutes, and even accordion, deteriorating into viciously dark chugs. This is capped off by an unsettling foray into dissonance and jagged rhythms (“Lights”), before returning to the more aggressive third act.

At its worst, Wretched offers either dull shimmies of monotonous strums or a progressive edge so wild it can be disorienting. What’s remarkable, though, is that it nonetheless feels distinctly like Wretched, and a return to the mythological heyday of their sophomore effort – that flexibility has been a strength all along. Sure, Powers’ vocals can feel out of place in the gentler moments, some tracks don’t land, the heft is lacking, and the track list is shaped like an epic with weird-ass moments to shake you loose, but the band’s storytelling through its songwriting is well intact, if not better, than eleven years ago. It’s a welcome return to form for Wretched and speaks to avenues of possibility. The fifth full-length suggests more potential than it achieves but the moral is the same: ironically, no decay in sight.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Metal Blade Records
Websites: wretchednc.bandcamp.com | wretchedmusic.com | facebook.com/wretchednc
Releases Worldwide: October 17th, 2025

#2025 #30 #AmericanMetal #Deathcore #Decay #GlassCasket #Inferi #MelodicDeathMetal #MelodicDeathcore #MetalBladeRecords #MirrorOfDeadFaces #Oct25 #ProgressiveDeathMetal #Review #Reviews #SuicideSilence #TechnicalDeathcore #TheBlackDahliaMurder #TheFaceless #ValeOfPnath #Whitechapel #Wretched

Fallujah – Xenotaph Review

By Dolphin Whisperer

Whatever mood suits you—perhaps none at all if you prefer deathly excursions of the older and fetid variety—Fallujah’s alien guitar identity consistently earns them a notch on the altar atop many a post-The Faceless tech death connoisseur’s mantle. Yet, the path that Fallujah walks has not always been one of extreme innovation. Rather, in spindly idiosyncrasies and heavyweight melodic ripples, the California riffslingers have whipped their way from roots in crushing yet entrancing death metal (The Harvest Wombs, The Flesh Prevails), through increasing gazey atmospherics (Dreamless, Undying Light), and into a flexed, teched out expression of all their past lives (Empyrean). And in that same vein of iterative development within a crystallizing, whammy-fluid style, Xenotaph looks to enrich the treble palate of a wanting audience.

Taking pleasure in the brighter vibrations of an extended-range string supply, founding guitarist Scott Carstairs, in closed-eye bends and chord quivers, defines the breathy ambience of Fallujah’s jittery developments. Not world’s away from 2023’s Empyrean, Xenotaph finds a harmonic shell in lush guitar layers that skirt the line between deep atmosphere and technical bounce. And breezing through with a trim song set that navigates a bevy of Cynic-coded trickling riffage (“Labyrinth of Stone,” “The Crystalline Veil”) and kick-saturated sprints (“Kaleidoscopic Waves,” “Xenotaph”) alike, Fallujah weaves a through line of sticky guitar candy. Returning vocalist Kyle Schaefer continues to be a chameleonic—if polarizing to the oldest fans—presence that stitches with aggressive, pitched yells, towering, gruff barks, and glistening, melodic core cleans, allowing Xenotaph to saunter down a familiar but kindly bent road.

In turn, guitar pyrotechnics come stock in the Fallujah package. Carstairs and new recruit Sam Mooradian (Inhale Existence) use their fiery and slippery talents to skew Xenotaph toward flypaper melodies and crunchy atmosphere rather than directionless, shreddy excess. Whether at the twinkle of gentle reverb on clean drives (“In Stars We Drown,” “A Parasitic Dream,” “The Obsidian Architect”), dancing play of panning refrains (“Kaleidoscopic Waves,” “Step…,” “Xenotaph”), or furious tremolo-bouncing riffage, this well-practiced duo makes every stutter-loaded passage feel buttery. In response, the inherent wandering nature of a soundscape that threatens the relaxing alien jazz of a Holdsworth1 finds a grounded landing in Thordendal (Meshuggah, Fredrik Thordendal‘s Special Defects) solo bleating (“Xenotaph”) and the kind of staccato The Faceless riffage that has defined a generation of low-gain, techy endeavors. In a slight step back on the production front, Xenotaph sees bass virtuoso Evan Brewer (Entheos,2 ex-Animosity) relegated to popping backing on skronky chord stabs, muffled boom alongside pitter-patter kick, and light rumble accent. The Otero compression method does succeed, though, in ensuring that each and every guitar passage cuts and twirls and dives with all the precision required to bore deep into a tablature-gawking mind.

Even if some tones find too much restraint, the endless and lush guitar layers that scaffold Xenotaph add to a rewarding, repeatable listen. While Fallujah hasn’t ever dabbled fully in the concept album world, recurring melodies flicker and warp and recontextualize throughout, tying tight pseudo-suites between Xenotaph’s strongest moments (“Labyrinth…” through “Step…,” “A Parasitic Dream” through “Xenotaph”). With this kind of blended and moment-blurry track timeline, though, placing an exact finger on the pulse that penetrates through to memory can be tough. It’s easy to get stuck in which rapid fire kick run3 was it that built tension before a wild solo, or which bent and wobbled dreamy lead carried that choppy riff to another choppy riff or which breakaway melodic chorus punched away to a meditative bridge. But Fallujah revels in extreme detail—the choral recollection that both opens and closes Xenotaph in loop, the chewiest melodic chorus this side of peak Tesseract (“The Crystalline Veil”), the flippant vocal modulations that run wild (“Labyrinth…, “The Obsidian Architect”). In novel pleasantries, Xenotaph finds a comfortable and developmental home.

Fallujah wears a collected calm and fun that can be hard for a veteran tech act to maintain. In Carstairs’ unique and effortless play—the backbone of all this act’s modern efforts—high note count riffage and solos find space to expand and nestle, and flourish. And in his reliable supporting cast, one seemingly cultivated of friendship, Xenotaph follows that same sentiment despite seeing Fallujah again fall into modern production stylings that raise more philosophical sound debate than I’d prefer. But if these are the kinds of questions Fallujah has to ask of their sound to keep growing, I’m content to bear witness to the fruits of their particular brand of floating and flamboyant internal dialogue.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Nuclear Blast | Bandcamp
Websites: fallujah.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/fallujahofficial
Releases Worldwide: June 13th, 20254

#2025 #35 #AmericanMetal #AtmosphericDeathMetal #Cynic #Entheos #Fallujah #Jun25 #Meshuggah #ProgressiveDeathMetal #ProgressiveMetalcore #Review #Reviews #TechnicalDeathMetal #TheFaceless #VvonDogmaI #Xenotaph

Fallujah – Xenotaph Review

By Dolphin Whisperer

Whatever mood suits you—perhaps none at all if you prefer deathly excursions of the older and fetid variety—Fallujah’s alien guitar identity consistently earns them a notch on the altar atop many a post-The Faceless tech death connoisseur’s mantle. Yet, the path that Fallujah walks has not always been one of extreme innovation. Rather, in spindly idiosyncrasies and heavyweight melodic ripples, the California riffslingers have whipped their way from roots in crushing yet entrancing death metal (The Harvest Wombs, The Flesh Prevails), through increasing gazey atmospherics (Dreamless, Undying Light), and into a flexed, teched out expression of all their past lives (Empyrean). And in that same vein of iterative development within a crystallizing, whammy-fluid style, Xenotaph looks to enrich the treble palate of a wanting audience.

Taking pleasure in the brighter vibrations of an extended-range string supply, founding guitarist Scott Carstairs, in closed-eye bends and chord quivers, defines the breathy ambience of Fallujah’s jittery developments. Not world’s away from 2023’s Empyrean, Xenotaph finds a harmonic shell in lush guitar layers that skirt the line between deep atmosphere and technical bounce. And breezing through with a trim song set that navigates a bevy of Cynic-coded trickling riffage (“Labyrinth of Stone,” “The Crystalline Veil”) and kick-saturated sprints (“Kaleidoscopic Waves,” “Xenotaph”) alike, Fallujah weaves a through line of sticky guitar candy. Returning vocalist Kyle Schaefer continues to be a chameleonic—if polarizing to the oldest fans—presence that stitches with aggressive, pitched yells, towering, gruff barks, and glistening, melodic core cleans, allowing Xenotaph to saunter down a familiar but kindly bent road.

In turn, guitar pyrotechnics come stock in the Fallujah package. Carstairs and new recruit Sam Mooradian (Inhale Existence) use their fiery and slippery talents to skew Xenotaph toward flypaper melodies and crunchy atmosphere rather than directionless, shreddy excess. Whether at the twinkle of gentle reverb on clean drives (“In Stars We Drown,” “A Parasitic Dream,” “The Obsidian Architect”), dancing play of panning refrains (“Kaleidoscopic Waves,” “Step…,” “Xenotaph”), or furious tremolo-bouncing riffage, this well-practiced duo makes every stutter-loaded passage feel buttery. In response, the inherent wandering nature of a soundscape that threatens the relaxing alien jazz of a Holdsworth1 finds a grounded landing in Thordendal (Meshuggah, Fredrik Thordendal‘s Special Defects) solo bleating (“Xenotaph”) and the kind of staccato The Faceless riffage that has defined a generation of low-gain, techy endeavors. In a slight step back on the production front, Xenotaph sees bass virtuoso Evan Brewer (Entheos,2 ex-Animosity) relegated to popping backing on skronky chord stabs, muffled boom alongside pitter-patter kick, and light rumble accent. The Otero compression method does succeed, though, in ensuring that each and every guitar passage cuts and twirls and dives with all the precision required to bore deep into a tablature-gawking mind.

Even if some tones find too much restraint, the endless and lush guitar layers that scaffold Xenotaph add to a rewarding, repeatable listen. While Fallujah hasn’t ever dabbled fully in the concept album world, recurring melodies flicker and warp and recontextualize throughout, tying tight pseudo-suites between Xenotaph’s strongest moments (“Labyrinth…” through “Step…,” “A Parasitic Dream” through “Xenotaph”). With this kind of blended and moment-blurry track timeline, though, placing an exact finger on the pulse that penetrates through to memory can be tough. It’s easy to get stuck in which rapid fire kick run3 was it that built tension before a wild solo, or which bent and wobbled dreamy lead carried that choppy riff to another choppy riff or which breakaway melodic chorus punched away to a meditative bridge. But Fallujah revels in extreme detail—the choral recollection that both opens and closes Xenotaph in loop, the chewiest melodic chorus this side of peak Tesseract (“The Crystalline Veil”), the flippant vocal modulations that run wild (“Labyrinth…, “The Obsidian Architect”). In novel pleasantries, Xenotaph finds a comfortable and developmental home.

Fallujah wears a collected calm and fun that can be hard for a veteran tech act to maintain. In Carstairs’ unique and effortless play—the backbone of all this act’s modern efforts—high note count riffage and solos find space to expand and nestle, and flourish. And in his reliable supporting cast, one seemingly cultivated of friendship, Xenotaph follows that same sentiment despite seeing Fallujah again fall into modern production stylings that raise more philosophical sound debate than I’d prefer. But if these are the kinds of questions Fallujah has to ask of their sound to keep growing, I’m content to bear witness to the fruits of their particular brand of floating and flamboyant internal dialogue.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Nuclear Blast | Bandcamp
Websites: fallujah.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/fallujahofficial
Releases Worldwide: June 13th, 20254

#2025 #35 #AmericanMetal #AtmosphericDeathMetal #Cynic #Entheos #Fallujah #Jun25 #Meshuggah #ProgressiveDeathMetal #ProgressiveMetalcore #Review #Reviews #TechnicalDeathMetal #TheFaceless #VvonDogmaI #Xenotaph

Fallujah – Xenotaph Review

By Dolphin Whisperer

Whatever mood suits you—perhaps none at all if you prefer deathly excursions of the older and fetid variety—Fallujah’s alien guitar identity consistently earns them a notch on the altar atop many a post-The Faceless tech death connoisseur’s mantle. Yet, the path that Fallujah walks has not always been one of extreme innovation. Rather, in spindly idiosyncrasies and heavyweight melodic ripples, the California riffslingers have whipped their way from roots in crushing yet entrancing death metal (The Harvest Wombs, The Flesh Prevails), through increasing gazey atmospherics (Dreamless, Undying Light), and into a flexed, teched out expression of all their past lives (Empyrean). And in that same vein of iterative development within a crystallizing, whammy-fluid style, Xenotaph looks to enrich the treble palate of a wanting audience.

Taking pleasure in the brighter vibrations of an extended-range string supply, founding guitarist Scott Carstairs, in closed-eye bends and chord quivers, defines the breathy ambience of Fallujah’s jittery developments. Not world’s away from 2023’s Empyrean, Xenotaph finds a harmonic shell in lush guitar layers that skirt the line between deep atmosphere and technical bounce. And breezing through with a trim song set that navigates a bevy of Cynic-coded trickling riffage (“Labyrinth of Stone,” “The Crystalline Veil”) and kick-saturated sprints (“Kaleidoscopic Waves,” “Xenotaph”) alike, Fallujah weaves a through line of sticky guitar candy. Returning vocalist Kyle Schaefer continues to be a chameleonic—if polarizing to the oldest fans—presence that stitches with aggressive, pitched yells, towering, gruff barks, and glistening, melodic core cleans, allowing Xenotaph to saunter down a familiar but kindly bent road.

In turn, guitar pyrotechnics come stock in the Fallujah package. Carstairs and new recruit Sam Mooradian (Inhale Existence) use their fiery and slippery talents to skew Xenotaph toward flypaper melodies and crunchy atmosphere rather than directionless, shreddy excess. Whether at the twinkle of gentle reverb on clean drives (“In Stars We Drown,” “A Parasitic Dream,” “The Obsidian Architect”), dancing play of panning refrains (“Kaleidoscopic Waves,” “Step…,” “Xenotaph”), or furious tremolo-bouncing riffage, this well-practiced duo makes every stutter-loaded passage feel buttery. In response, the inherent wandering nature of a soundscape that threatens the relaxing alien jazz of a Holdsworth1 finds a grounded landing in Thordendal (Meshuggah, Fredrik Thordendal‘s Special Defects) solo bleating (“Xenotaph”) and the kind of staccato The Faceless riffage that has defined a generation of low-gain, techy endeavors. In a slight step back on the production front, Xenotaph sees bass virtuoso Evan Brewer (Entheos,2 ex-Animosity) relegated to popping backing on skronky chord stabs, muffled boom alongside pitter-patter kick, and light rumble accent. The Otero compression method does succeed, though, in ensuring that each and every guitar passage cuts and twirls and dives with all the precision required to bore deep into a tablature-gawking mind.

Even if some tones find too much restraint, the endless and lush guitar layers that scaffold Xenotaph add to a rewarding, repeatable listen. While Fallujah hasn’t ever dabbled fully in the concept album world, recurring melodies flicker and warp and recontextualize throughout, tying tight pseudo-suites between Xenotaph’s strongest moments (“Labyrinth…” through “Step…,” “A Parasitic Dream” through “Xenotaph”). With this kind of blended and moment-blurry track timeline, though, placing an exact finger on the pulse that penetrates through to memory can be tough. It’s easy to get stuck in which rapid fire kick run3 was it that built tension before a wild solo, or which bent and wobbled dreamy lead carried that choppy riff to another choppy riff or which breakaway melodic chorus punched away to a meditative bridge. But Fallujah revels in extreme detail—the choral recollection that both opens and closes Xenotaph in loop, the chewiest melodic chorus this side of peak Tesseract (“The Crystalline Veil”), the flippant vocal modulations that run wild (“Labyrinth…, “The Obsidian Architect”). In novel pleasantries, Xenotaph finds a comfortable and developmental home.

Fallujah wears a collected calm and fun that can be hard for a veteran tech act to maintain. In Carstairs’ unique and effortless play—the backbone of all this act’s modern efforts—high note count riffage and solos find space to expand and nestle, and flourish. And in his reliable supporting cast, one seemingly cultivated of friendship, Xenotaph follows that same sentiment despite seeing Fallujah again fall into modern production stylings that raise more philosophical sound debate than I’d prefer. But if these are the kinds of questions Fallujah has to ask of their sound to keep growing, I’m content to bear witness to the fruits of their particular brand of floating and flamboyant internal dialogue.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Nuclear Blast | Bandcamp
Websites: fallujah.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/fallujahofficial
Releases Worldwide: June 13th, 20254

#2025 #35 #AmericanMetal #AtmosphericDeathMetal #Cynic #Entheos #Fallujah #Jun25 #Meshuggah #ProgressiveDeathMetal #ProgressiveMetalcore #Review #Reviews #TechnicalDeathMetal #TheFaceless #VvonDogmaI #Xenotaph

Fallujah – Xenotaph Review

By Dolphin Whisperer

Whatever mood suits you—perhaps none at all if you prefer deathly excursions of the older and fetid variety—Fallujah’s alien guitar identity consistently earns them a notch on the altar atop many a post-The Faceless tech death connoisseur’s mantle. Yet, the path that Fallujah walks has not always been one of extreme innovation. Rather, in spindly idiosyncrasies and heavyweight melodic ripples, the California riffslingers have whipped their way from roots in crushing yet entrancing death metal (The Harvest Wombs, The Flesh Prevails), through increasing gazey atmospherics (Dreamless, Undying Light), and into a flexed, teched out expression of all their past lives (Empyrean). And in that same vein of iterative development within a crystallizing, whammy-fluid style, Xenotaph looks to enrich the treble palate of a wanting audience.

Taking pleasure in the brighter vibrations of an extended-range string supply, founding guitarist Scott Carstairs, in closed-eye bends and chord quivers, defines the breathy ambience of Fallujah’s jittery developments. Not world’s away from 2023’s Empyrean, Xenotaph finds a harmonic shell in lush guitar layers that skirt the line between deep atmosphere and technical bounce. And breezing through with a trim song set that navigates a bevy of Cynic-coded trickling riffage (“Labyrinth of Stone,” “The Crystalline Veil”) and kick-saturated sprints (“Kaleidoscopic Waves,” “Xenotaph”) alike, Fallujah weaves a through line of sticky guitar candy. Returning vocalist Kyle Schaefer continues to be a chameleonic—if polarizing to the oldest fans—presence that stitches with aggressive, pitched yells, towering, gruff barks, and glistening, melodic core cleans, allowing Xenotaph to saunter down a familiar but kindly bent road.

In turn, guitar pyrotechnics come stock in the Fallujah package. Carstairs and new recruit Sam Mooradian (Inhale Existence) use their fiery and slippery talents to skew Xenotaph toward flypaper melodies and crunchy atmosphere rather than directionless, shreddy excess. Whether at the twinkle of gentle reverb on clean drives (“In Stars We Drown,” “A Parasitic Dream,” “The Obsidian Architect”), dancing play of panning refrains (“Kaleidoscopic Waves,” “Step…,” “Xenotaph”), or furious tremolo-bouncing riffage, this well-practiced duo makes every stutter-loaded passage feel buttery. In response, the inherent wandering nature of a soundscape that threatens the relaxing alien jazz of a Holdsworth1 finds a grounded landing in Thordendal (Meshuggah, Fredrik Thordendal‘s Special Defects) solo bleating (“Xenotaph”) and the kind of staccato The Faceless riffage that has defined a generation of low-gain, techy endeavors. In a slight step back on the production front, Xenotaph sees bass virtuoso Evan Brewer (Entheos,2 ex-Animosity) relegated to popping backing on skronky chord stabs, muffled boom alongside pitter-patter kick, and light rumble accent. The Otero compression method does succeed, though, in ensuring that each and every guitar passage cuts and twirls and dives with all the precision required to bore deep into a tablature-gawking mind.

Even if some tones find too much restraint, the endless and lush guitar layers that scaffold Xenotaph add to a rewarding, repeatable listen. While Fallujah hasn’t ever dabbled fully in the concept album world, recurring melodies flicker and warp and recontextualize throughout, tying tight pseudo-suites between Xenotaph’s strongest moments (“Labyrinth…” through “Step…,” “A Parasitic Dream” through “Xenotaph”). With this kind of blended and moment-blurry track timeline, though, placing an exact finger on the pulse that penetrates through to memory can be tough. It’s easy to get stuck in which rapid fire kick run3 was it that built tension before a wild solo, or which bent and wobbled dreamy lead carried that choppy riff to another choppy riff or which breakaway melodic chorus punched away to a meditative bridge. But Fallujah revels in extreme detail—the choral recollection that both opens and closes Xenotaph in loop, the chewiest melodic chorus this side of peak Tesseract (“The Crystalline Veil”), the flippant vocal modulations that run wild (“Labyrinth…, “The Obsidian Architect”). In novel pleasantries, Xenotaph finds a comfortable and developmental home.

Fallujah wears a collected calm and fun that can be hard for a veteran tech act to maintain. In Carstairs’ unique and effortless play—the backbone of all this act’s modern efforts—high note count riffage and solos find space to expand and nestle, and flourish. And in his reliable supporting cast, one seemingly cultivated of friendship, Xenotaph follows that same sentiment despite seeing Fallujah again fall into modern production stylings that raise more philosophical sound debate than I’d prefer. But if these are the kinds of questions Fallujah has to ask of their sound to keep growing, I’m content to bear witness to the fruits of their particular brand of floating and flamboyant internal dialogue.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Nuclear Blast | Bandcamp
Websites: fallujah.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/fallujahofficial
Releases Worldwide: June 13th, 20254

#2025 #35 #AmericanMetal #AtmosphericDeathMetal #Cynic #Entheos #Fallujah #Jun25 #Meshuggah #ProgressiveDeathMetal #ProgressiveMetalcore #Review #Reviews #TechnicalDeathMetal #TheFaceless #VvonDogmaI #Xenotaph

Affliction Vector – Contra Hominem Review

By Alekhines Gun

Sometimes you encounter a piece of work that stands as a testament to everything you love in music. Lovers of heavy tones and brutal riffs in all their permutations are constantly chasing that dragon, seeking the brutality to return us to our more joyful youth, or the blackened assaults that turn melted frowns into jubilant smiles. Some bands accomplish this through interesting cross-pollinations of sound, while others adhere to the straight and narrow definitions set by the genre’s torchbearers, who earn their merit through the strength of their songcraft and adherence to proper production. Either way, the quest is the same: create something to make audience and reviewer alike point in awe, stand smitten with horns raised high and tequila on our breath (or apple juice if you’re wholesome like Killjoy) and love in our hearts as we declare “This is good! This is real! This is excellent!” Fortunately for my limited well of superlatives, Contra Hominem is not such an album, and it’s not even close.

Affliction Vector have presented an album whose production is devoid of any real defining features. Somehow, at once lo-fi in mix yet hi-fi in tone, Contra Hominem offers a listen which avoids the abrasive, sharp tones of the brutal assault it pretends to offer, yet blends any melodies or riffs down into the mix until the entire album passes by in a listless haze. The aural equivalent of a glass of water, its sounds are featureless, smoothed over, and bland, with no sound grabbing the listener’s ear or providing any engagement despite its short 28-minute runtime. Faceless blast after faceless blast, so flavorless I’m offended a Faceless band name has already been taken, make attempts to walk in the cleft hoof of Teitanblood, but without the proper sound quality to match the necessary assault. Contra Hominem sounds lazy, meandering, and manages to take a package of high BPM assemblages somehow and make them sound as lethargic as the color scheme “adorning” the art.

But Gun! I hear you cry, what of the riffs? To be sure, this glass of water does contain a few ice cubes to chew on. Unfortunately, two of the biggest and most distinct cubes come in the shape of two interludes, one of which is nothing but the sound of running water. I’m more into album intros and interludes than some of my colleagues, but a sub-half-hour album has no need for interludes, let alone mere sound effects. The album opens with a twangy piano intro in an attempt to be spooky, but the melody is so protracted as to grate more than intimidate. “Lethal” manages to work a memorable moment above the deluge of textureless soundscapes, as does “Nero Gorgo”. The latter is the best song, with creative organ layering and a monster drop of a groove, which causes the ears to perk up in joy at the oasis in the barren desert across the rest of the album.

Performances by the members of Affliction Vector are serviceable in their delivery of mediocrity. Stefano S. handles drums, and the production does allow his kick to come through with meaty oomph, rendering blasts pleasing to the ear. Occasionally, he slows down enough to flirt with industrial tempos, particularly in “Ephemeral Lifeless.” Ans handles all other duties and shows competence in the delivery of solos. There’s a nifty time change in “Animalis Irae”, and he really lets his voice hit fever pitch at “To Lucifer.” But ultimately, these are fleeting moments in a lifeless experience, a few merciful snapshots of technical capability raising their head from the miasma of gray within.

Sorry to say, Contra Hominem is boring. The promo sheet described the album as trying to summon noise, which could bridge the gap between Heaven and Hell, but unfortunately, that’s a pretty big bridge to build. The first step is successfully crossing the gap in the points between my attention span, and in that goal, it has proven to be a cataclysmic failure. It’s boring in how it’s produced. It’s boring in how it’s performed. It’s boring in how it’s composed. Any one of the three are surmountable if the other two are used as strength (just see how the admittedly good production on the last Rivers album has people convinced the music itself is good) but this trifecta of drab and dreary only solidifies this album as memorable in how much I’ve not enjoyed my time with it, despite allowing numerable replays in a chance to win me over.

Rating: 1.5/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Iron Bonehead Productions
Websites: afflictionvector.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/AnsAV666
Releases Worldwide: June 6th, 2025

#15 #2025 #AfflictionVector #BlackMetal #ContraHominem #IronBoneheadProductions #ItalianMetal #Jun25 #Review #Reviews #RiversOfNihil #Teitanblood #TheFaceless

Affliction Vector – Contra Hominem Review

By Alekhines Gun

Sometimes you encounter a piece of work that stands as a testament to everything you love in music. Lovers of heavy tones and brutal riffs in all their permutations are constantly chasing that dragon, seeking the brutality to return us to our more joyful youth, or the blackened assaults that turn melted frowns into jubilant smiles. Some bands accomplish this through interesting cross-pollinations of sound, while others adhere to the straight and narrow definitions set by the genre’s torchbearers, who earn their merit through the strength of their songcraft and adherence to proper production. Either way, the quest is the same: create something to make audience and reviewer alike point in awe, stand smitten with horns raised high and tequila on our breath (or apple juice if you’re wholesome like Killjoy) and love in our hearts as we declare “This is good! This is real! This is excellent!” Fortunately for my limited well of superlatives, Contra Hominem is not such an album, and it’s not even close.

Affliction Vector have presented an album whose production is devoid of any real defining features. Somehow, at once lo-fi in mix yet hi-fi in tone, Contra Hominem offers a listen which avoids the abrasive, sharp tones of the brutal assault it pretends to offer, yet blends any melodies or riffs down into the mix until the entire album passes by in a listless haze. The aural equivalent of a glass of water, its sounds are featureless, smoothed over, and bland, with no sound grabbing the listener’s ear or providing any engagement despite its short 28-minute runtime. Faceless blast after faceless blast, so flavorless I’m offended a Faceless band name has already been taken, make attempts to walk in the cleft hoof of Teitanblood, but without the proper sound quality to match the necessary assault. Contra Hominem sounds lazy, meandering, and manages to take a package of high BPM assemblages somehow and make them sound as lethargic as the color scheme “adorning” the art.

But Gun! I hear you cry, what of the riffs? To be sure, this glass of water does contain a few ice cubes to chew on. Unfortunately, two of the biggest and most distinct cubes come in the shape of two interludes, one of which is nothing but the sound of running water. I’m more into album intros and interludes than some of my colleagues, but a sub-half-hour album has no need for interludes, let alone mere sound effects. The album opens with a twangy piano intro in an attempt to be spooky, but the melody is so protracted as to grate more than intimidate. “Lethal” manages to work a memorable moment above the deluge of textureless soundscapes, as does “Nero Gorgo”. The latter is the best song, with creative organ layering and a monster drop of a groove, which causes the ears to perk up in joy at the oasis in the barren desert across the rest of the album.

Performances by the members of Affliction Vector are serviceable in their delivery of mediocrity. Stefano S. handles drums, and the production does allow his kick to come through with meaty oomph, rendering blasts pleasing to the ear. Occasionally, he slows down enough to flirt with industrial tempos, particularly in “Ephemeral Lifeless.” Ans handles all other duties and shows competence in the delivery of solos. There’s a nifty time change in “Animalis Irae”, and he really lets his voice hit fever pitch at “To Lucifer.” But ultimately, these are fleeting moments in a lifeless experience, a few merciful snapshots of technical capability raising their head from the miasma of gray within.

Sorry to say, Contra Hominem is boring. The promo sheet described the album as trying to summon noise, which could bridge the gap between Heaven and Hell, but unfortunately, that’s a pretty big bridge to build. The first step is successfully crossing the gap in the points between my attention span, and in that goal, it has proven to be a cataclysmic failure. It’s boring in how it’s produced. It’s boring in how it’s performed. It’s boring in how it’s composed. Any one of the three are surmountable if the other two are used as strength (just see how the admittedly good production on the last Rivers album has people convinced the music itself is good) but this trifecta of drab and dreary only solidifies this album as memorable in how much I’ve not enjoyed my time with it, despite allowing numerable replays in a chance to win me over.

Rating: 1.5/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Iron Bonehead Productions
Websites: afflictionvector.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/AnsAV666
Releases Worldwide: June 6th, 2025

#15 #2025 #AfflictionVector #BlackMetal #ContraHominem #IronBoneheadProductions #ItalianMetal #Jun25 #Review #Reviews #RiversOfNihil #Teitanblood #TheFaceless

Affliction Vector – Contra Hominem Review

By Alekhines Gun

Sometimes you encounter a piece of work that stands as a testament to everything you love in music. Lovers of heavy tones and brutal riffs in all their permutations are constantly chasing that dragon, seeking the brutality to return us to our more joyful youth, or the blackened assaults that turn melted frowns into jubilant smiles. Some bands accomplish this through interesting cross-pollinations of sound, while others adhere to the straight and narrow definitions set by the genre’s torchbearers, who earn their merit through the strength of their songcraft and adherence to proper production. Either way, the quest is the same: create something to make audience and reviewer alike point in awe, stand smitten with horns raised high and tequila on our breath (or apple juice if you’re wholesome like Killjoy) and love in our hearts as we declare “This is good! This is real! This is excellent!” Fortunately for my limited well of superlatives, Contra Hominem is not such an album, and it’s not even close.

Affliction Vector have presented an album whose production is devoid of any real defining features. Somehow, at once lo-fi in mix yet hi-fi in tone, Contra Hominem offers a listen which avoids the abrasive, sharp tones of the brutal assault it pretends to offer, yet blends any melodies or riffs down into the mix until the entire album passes by in a listless haze. The aural equivalent of a glass of water, its sounds are featureless, smoothed over, and bland, with no sound grabbing the listener’s ear or providing any engagement despite its short 28-minute runtime. Faceless blast after faceless blast, so flavorless I’m offended a Faceless band name has already been taken, make attempts to walk in the cleft hoof of Teitanblood, but without the proper sound quality to match the necessary assault. Contra Hominem sounds lazy, meandering, and manages to take a package of high BPM assemblages somehow and make them sound as lethargic as the color scheme “adorning” the art.

But Gun! I hear you cry, what of the riffs? To be sure, this glass of water does contain a few ice cubes to chew on. Unfortunately, two of the biggest and most distinct cubes come in the shape of two interludes, one of which is nothing but the sound of running water. I’m more into album intros and interludes than some of my colleagues, but a sub-half-hour album has no need for interludes, let alone mere sound effects. The album opens with a twangy piano intro in an attempt to be spooky, but the melody is so protracted as to grate more than intimidate. “Lethal” manages to work a memorable moment above the deluge of textureless soundscapes, as does “Nero Gorgo”. The latter is the best song, with creative organ layering and a monster drop of a groove, which causes the ears to perk up in joy at the oasis in the barren desert across the rest of the album.

Performances by the members of Affliction Vector are serviceable in their delivery of mediocrity. Stefano S. handles drums, and the production does allow his kick to come through with meaty oomph, rendering blasts pleasing to the ear. Occasionally, he slows down enough to flirt with industrial tempos, particularly in “Ephemeral Lifeless.” Ans handles all other duties and shows competence in the delivery of solos. There’s a nifty time change in “Animalis Irae”, and he really lets his voice hit fever pitch at “To Lucifer.” But ultimately, these are fleeting moments in a lifeless experience, a few merciful snapshots of technical capability raising their head from the miasma of gray within.

Sorry to say, Contra Hominem is boring. The promo sheet described the album as trying to summon noise, which could bridge the gap between Heaven and Hell, but unfortunately, that’s a pretty big bridge to build. The first step is successfully crossing the gap in the points between my attention span, and in that goal, it has proven to be a cataclysmic failure. It’s boring in how it’s produced. It’s boring in how it’s performed. It’s boring in how it’s composed. Any one of the three are surmountable if the other two are used as strength (just see how the admittedly good production on the last Rivers album has people convinced the music itself is good) but this trifecta of drab and dreary only solidifies this album as memorable in how much I’ve not enjoyed my time with it, despite allowing numerable replays in a chance to win me over.

Rating: 1.5/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Iron Bonehead Productions
Websites: afflictionvector.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/AnsAV666
Releases Worldwide: June 6th, 2025

#15 #2025 #AfflictionVector #BlackMetal #ContraHominem #IronBoneheadProductions #ItalianMetal #Jun25 #Review #Reviews #RiversOfNihil #Teitanblood #TheFaceless

Affliction Vector – Contra Hominem Review

By Alekhines Gun

Sometimes you encounter a piece of work that stands as a testament to everything you love in music. Lovers of heavy tones and brutal riffs in all their permutations are constantly chasing that dragon, seeking the brutality to return us to our more joyful youth, or the blackened assaults that turn melted frowns into jubilant smiles. Some bands accomplish this through interesting cross-pollinations of sound, while others adhere to the straight and narrow definitions set by the genre’s torchbearers, who earn their merit through the strength of their songcraft and adherence to proper production. Either way, the quest is the same: create something to make audience and reviewer alike point in awe, stand smitten with horns raised high and tequila on our breath (or apple juice if you’re wholesome like Killjoy) and love in our hearts as we declare “This is good! This is real! This is excellent!” Fortunately for my limited well of superlatives, Contra Hominem is not such an album, and it’s not even close.

Affliction Vector have presented an album whose production is devoid of any real defining features. Somehow, at once lo-fi in mix yet hi-fi in tone, Contra Hominem offers a listen which avoids the abrasive, sharp tones of the brutal assault it pretends to offer, yet blends any melodies or riffs down into the mix until the entire album passes by in a listless haze. The aural equivalent of a glass of water, its sounds are featureless, smoothed over, and bland, with no sound grabbing the listener’s ear or providing any engagement despite its short 28-minute runtime. Faceless blast after faceless blast, so flavorless I’m offended a Faceless band name has already been taken, make attempts to walk in the cleft hoof of Teitanblood, but without the proper sound quality to match the necessary assault. Contra Hominem sounds lazy, meandering, and manages to take a package of high BPM assemblages somehow and make them sound as lethargic as the color scheme “adorning” the art.

But Gun! I hear you cry, what of the riffs? To be sure, this glass of water does contain a few ice cubes to chew on. Unfortunately, two of the biggest and most distinct cubes come in the shape of two interludes, one of which is nothing but the sound of running water. I’m more into album intros and interludes than some of my colleagues, but a sub-half-hour album has no need for interludes, let alone mere sound effects. The album opens with a twangy piano intro in an attempt to be spooky, but the melody is so protracted as to grate more than intimidate. “Lethal” manages to work a memorable moment above the deluge of textureless soundscapes, as does “Nero Gorgo”. The latter is the best song, with creative organ layering and a monster drop of a groove, which causes the ears to perk up in joy at the oasis in the barren desert across the rest of the album.

Performances by the members of Affliction Vector are serviceable in their delivery of mediocrity. Stefano S. handles drums, and the production does allow his kick to come through with meaty oomph, rendering blasts pleasing to the ear. Occasionally, he slows down enough to flirt with industrial tempos, particularly in “Ephemeral Lifeless.” Ans handles all other duties and shows competence in the delivery of solos. There’s a nifty time change in “Animalis Irae”, and he really lets his voice hit fever pitch at “To Lucifer.” But ultimately, these are fleeting moments in a lifeless experience, a few merciful snapshots of technical capability raising their head from the miasma of gray within.

Sorry to say, Contra Hominem is boring. The promo sheet described the album as trying to summon noise, which could bridge the gap between Heaven and Hell, but unfortunately, that’s a pretty big bridge to build. The first step is successfully crossing the gap in the points between my attention span, and in that goal, it has proven to be a cataclysmic failure. It’s boring in how it’s produced. It’s boring in how it’s performed. It’s boring in how it’s composed. Any one of the three are surmountable if the other two are used as strength (just see how the admittedly good production on the last Rivers album has people convinced the music itself is good) but this trifecta of drab and dreary only solidifies this album as memorable in how much I’ve not enjoyed my time with it, despite allowing numerable replays in a chance to win me over.

Rating: 1.5/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Iron Bonehead Productions
Websites: afflictionvector.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/AnsAV666
Releases Worldwide: June 6th, 2025

#15 #2025 #AfflictionVector #BlackMetal #ContraHominem #IronBoneheadProductions #ItalianMetal #Jun25 #Review #Reviews #RiversOfNihil #Teitanblood #TheFaceless

Exterminatus – Echoes From a Distant Star Part 1 Review

By Owlswald

“Exterminatus” is a Warhammer 40k term that describes a global mass extinction event authorized by the emperor when the Imperium deems the cost of holding or retaking a planet too high. While I’m naïve about such things, Canadian fivesome Exterminatus certainly isn’t. And these Canucks are here to incinerate your eardrums with a heavy dose of sci-fi inspired tech-death. Originally demoed in 2012, Echoes From a Distant Star Part I was to be the follow-up to Xenocide’s debut album, Galactic Oppression. However, the group disbanded before they completed the album, and its members—including most of the original lineup—subsequently formed Exterminatus. Thirteen years later, these Vancouverites have released two solid albums and are finally prepared to relaunch Echoes after recording and re-recording the material three times. Seeking to venture into deep space through a celestial narrative that investigates interstellar creation and its obscure realities, I’m left wondering if the destination justifies the voyage.

Raising the pace and intensity of its predecessors, Exterminatus mostly operates in overdrive on Echoes, peppering the limited moments of empty space with Faceless-esque grooves and melodic leads. Lead by the dual axe attacks of Tabreez Azad and Elia Baghbaniyan, the duo warps the fabric of reality with their percussive shredding, laser-fire tremolos, and technical articulation, flicking and tapping for thirty minutes across the album’s seven chapters.1 Together with Max Sepulveda’s (The Zenith Passage) ruthless drumming, the trio dominate the record’s linear mix, occasionally permitting Lucas Abreu’s virtuosic basslines to break through the wall of crushing brutality (“The Cloud,” “Suffer in Silence”). Lukas Bresan’s heavy Archspire-like growls provide additional gravity as they narrate Echoes’ grand planetary saga. Drawing inspiration from the famous works of Isaac Asimov and Arthur C. Clarke, as well as the Stargate SG-1 and Mass Effect franchises, Exterminatus explores the universe’s fundamental forces through the familiar and technical movements of tech-death’s stalwarts.

Exterminatus thrive when they back off the accelerator and use their technical expression to manipulate the cosmos in a manner that boosts Echoes’ groove-rich currents. Closer “The Signal,” is a no-frills banger that finishes with a savage dose of syncopated thrash riffs and agile drumming that aptly finds the balance between brutality and accessibility. Abreu’s playful bass lines at the onset of “Cosmic Disturbance” conveys its ominous warning with finesse, while the pulse-driven riffing of the song’s end hits with the power of a supernova. Meanwhile, the heroic solo before the launch of “Starbound” or the melodic leads of “The New Theia” provide moments of respite around outbursts of cosmic turbulence. Though Echoes’ highlights are generally not as memorable as I would like, there are enough amidst the onslaught of staccatos, pummeling double bass, and light speed shifts to provide necessary touchstones and avoid a full system overload.

Still, Exterminatus’ ambitious pursuit fares better in concept than in execution. Track sequencing and songwriting diminish Echoes’ voyage, hindering the whole with abrupt openings and sudden descents that disrupt the journey. Songs like “Primordial Sea,” and “The New Theia” suffer from bloat, while “Suffer in Silence” and “The Signal” seem truncated. Accordingly, Echoes feels more academic than vibrant, a collection of separate tracks that are challenging to connect with, rather than an absorbing cosmic saga. Additionally, the production sacrifices nuance and emotion for volume and intensity, thereby crushing any promise of dynamics. The overly loud mix is too aggressive—particularly the drums and guitars—which fatigued my ears and became frustrating. Likewise, Exterminatus’ reliance on tropey bass drops to replace the lack of energy in Echoes’ peak moments are a distraction, achieving the opposite of their intended effect.

Despite years of development, Echoes doesn’t hit its mark. Exterminatus clearly possess the talent to create something special, and their commitment to crafting an ambitious, sci-fi narrative is commendable. However, the album’s songwriting and production prevent it from reaching its potential, serving instead as a demonstration of what they are capable of. What Echoes lacks in cohesion, it partly compensates for in technical expression and sheer sonic intensity. But if Exterminatus can refine the issues that hinder Echoes, their next venture into the cosmos could be great indeed.

Rating: Mixed
DR: 4 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Self-Released
Websites: exterminatus.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/exterminatusband
Releases Worldwide: April 18, 2025

#25 #2025 #Apr25 #Archspire #CanadianMetal #DeathMetal #EchoesFromADistantStarPart1 #Exterminatus #Review #Reviews #SelfReleased #TechnicalDeathMetal #TheFaceless #TheZenithPassage

Exterminatus – Echoes From a Distant Star Part 1 Review

By Owlswald

“Exterminatus” is a Warhammer 40k term that describes a global mass extinction event authorized by the emperor when the Imperium deems the cost of holding or retaking a planet too high. While I’m naïve about such things, Canadian fivesome Exterminatus certainly isn’t. And these Canucks are here to incinerate your eardrums with a heavy dose of sci-fi inspired tech-death. Originally demoed in 2012, Echoes From a Distant Star Part I was to be the follow-up to Xenocide’s debut album, Galactic Oppression. However, the group disbanded before they completed the album, and its members—including most of the original lineup—subsequently formed Exterminatus. Thirteen years later, these Vancouverites have released two solid albums and are finally prepared to relaunch Echoes after recording and re-recording the material three times. Seeking to venture into deep space through a celestial narrative that investigates interstellar creation and its obscure realities, I’m left wondering if the destination justifies the voyage.

Raising the pace and intensity of its predecessors, Exterminatus mostly operates in overdrive on Echoes, peppering the limited moments of empty space with Faceless-esque grooves and melodic leads. Lead by the dual axe attacks of Tabreez Azad and Elia Baghbaniyan, the duo warps the fabric of reality with their percussive shredding, laser-fire tremolos, and technical articulation, flicking and tapping for thirty minutes across the album’s seven chapters.1 Together with Max Sepulveda’s (The Zenith Passage) ruthless drumming, the trio dominate the record’s linear mix, occasionally permitting Lucas Abreu’s virtuosic basslines to break through the wall of crushing brutality (“The Cloud,” “Suffer in Silence”). Lukas Bresan’s heavy Archspire-like growls provide additional gravity as they narrate Echoes’ grand planetary saga. Drawing inspiration from the famous works of Isaac Asimov and Arthur C. Clarke, as well as the Stargate SG-1 and Mass Effect franchises, Exterminatus explores the universe’s fundamental forces through the familiar and technical movements of tech-death’s stalwarts.

Exterminatus thrive when they back off the accelerator and use their technical expression to manipulate the cosmos in a manner that boosts Echoes’ groove-rich currents. Closer “The Signal,” is a no-frills banger that finishes with a savage dose of syncopated thrash riffs and agile drumming that aptly finds the balance between brutality and accessibility. Abreu’s playful bass lines at the onset of “Cosmic Disturbance” conveys its ominous warning with finesse, while the pulse-driven riffing of the song’s end hits with the power of a supernova. Meanwhile, the heroic solo before the launch of “Starbound” or the melodic leads of “The New Theia” provide moments of respite around outbursts of cosmic turbulence. Though Echoes’ highlights are generally not as memorable as I would like, there are enough amidst the onslaught of staccatos, pummeling double bass, and light speed shifts to provide necessary touchstones and avoid a full system overload.

Still, Exterminatus’ ambitious pursuit fares better in concept than in execution. Track sequencing and songwriting diminish Echoes’ voyage, hindering the whole with abrupt openings and sudden descents that disrupt the journey. Songs like “Primordial Sea,” and “The New Theia” suffer from bloat, while “Suffer in Silence” and “The Signal” seem truncated. Accordingly, Echoes feels more academic than vibrant, a collection of separate tracks that are challenging to connect with, rather than an absorbing cosmic saga. Additionally, the production sacrifices nuance and emotion for volume and intensity, thereby crushing any promise of dynamics. The overly loud mix is too aggressive—particularly the drums and guitars—which fatigued my ears and became frustrating. Likewise, Exterminatus’ reliance on tropey bass drops to replace the lack of energy in Echoes’ peak moments are a distraction, achieving the opposite of their intended effect.

Despite years of development, Echoes doesn’t hit its mark. Exterminatus clearly possess the talent to create something special, and their commitment to crafting an ambitious, sci-fi narrative is commendable. However, the album’s songwriting and production prevent it from reaching its potential, serving instead as a demonstration of what they are capable of. What Echoes lacks in cohesion, it partly compensates for in technical expression and sheer sonic intensity. But if Exterminatus can refine the issues that hinder Echoes, their next venture into the cosmos could be great indeed.

Rating: Mixed
DR: 4 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Self-Released
Websites: exterminatus.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/exterminatusband
Releases Worldwide: April 18, 2025

#25 #2025 #Apr25 #Archspire #CanadianMetal #DeathMetal #EchoesFromADistantStarPart1 #Exterminatus #Review #Reviews #SelfReleased #TechnicalDeathMetal #TheFaceless #TheZenithPassage

Exterminatus – Echoes From a Distant Star Part 1 Review

By Owlswald

“Exterminatus” is a Warhammer 40k term that describes a global mass extinction event authorized by the emperor when the Imperium deems the cost of holding or retaking a planet too high. While I’m naïve about such things, Canadian fivesome Exterminatus certainly isn’t. And these Canucks are here to incinerate your eardrums with a heavy dose of sci-fi inspired tech-death. Originally demoed in 2012, Echoes From a Distant Star Part I was to be the follow-up to Xenocide’s debut album, Galactic Oppression. However, the group disbanded before they completed the album, and its members—including most of the original lineup—subsequently formed Exterminatus. Thirteen years later, these Vancouverites have released two solid albums and are finally prepared to relaunch Echoes after recording and re-recording the material three times. Seeking to venture into deep space through a celestial narrative that investigates interstellar creation and its obscure realities, I’m left wondering if the destination justifies the voyage.

Raising the pace and intensity of its predecessors, Exterminatus mostly operates in overdrive on Echoes, peppering the limited moments of empty space with Faceless-esque grooves and melodic leads. Lead by the dual axe attacks of Tabreez Azad and Elia Baghbaniyan, the duo warps the fabric of reality with their percussive shredding, laser-fire tremolos, and technical articulation, flicking and tapping for thirty minutes across the album’s seven chapters.1 Together with Max Sepulveda’s (The Zenith Passage) ruthless drumming, the trio dominate the record’s linear mix, occasionally permitting Lucas Abreu’s virtuosic basslines to break through the wall of crushing brutality (“The Cloud,” “Suffer in Silence”). Lukas Bresan’s heavy Archspire-like growls provide additional gravity as they narrate Echoes’ grand planetary saga. Drawing inspiration from the famous works of Isaac Asimov and Arthur C. Clarke, as well as the Stargate SG-1 and Mass Effect franchises, Exterminatus explores the universe’s fundamental forces through the familiar and technical movements of tech-death’s stalwarts.

Exterminatus thrive when they back off the accelerator and use their technical expression to manipulate the cosmos in a manner that boosts Echoes’ groove-rich currents. Closer “The Signal,” is a no-frills banger that finishes with a savage dose of syncopated thrash riffs and agile drumming that aptly finds the balance between brutality and accessibility. Abreu’s playful bass lines at the onset of “Cosmic Disturbance” conveys its ominous warning with finesse, while the pulse-driven riffing of the song’s end hits with the power of a supernova. Meanwhile, the heroic solo before the launch of “Starbound” or the melodic leads of “The New Theia” provide moments of respite around outbursts of cosmic turbulence. Though Echoes’ highlights are generally not as memorable as I would like, there are enough amidst the onslaught of staccatos, pummeling double bass, and light speed shifts to provide necessary touchstones and avoid a full system overload.

Still, Exterminatus’ ambitious pursuit fares better in concept than in execution. Track sequencing and songwriting diminish Echoes’ voyage, hindering the whole with abrupt openings and sudden descents that disrupt the journey. Songs like “Primordial Sea,” and “The New Theia” suffer from bloat, while “Suffer in Silence” and “The Signal” seem truncated. Accordingly, Echoes feels more academic than vibrant, a collection of separate tracks that are challenging to connect with, rather than an absorbing cosmic saga. Additionally, the production sacrifices nuance and emotion for volume and intensity, thereby crushing any promise of dynamics. The overly loud mix is too aggressive—particularly the drums and guitars—which fatigued my ears and became frustrating. Likewise, Exterminatus’ reliance on tropey bass drops to replace the lack of energy in Echoes’ peak moments are a distraction, achieving the opposite of their intended effect.

Despite years of development, Echoes doesn’t hit its mark. Exterminatus clearly possess the talent to create something special, and their commitment to crafting an ambitious, sci-fi narrative is commendable. However, the album’s songwriting and production prevent it from reaching its potential, serving instead as a demonstration of what they are capable of. What Echoes lacks in cohesion, it partly compensates for in technical expression and sheer sonic intensity. But if Exterminatus can refine the issues that hinder Echoes, their next venture into the cosmos could be great indeed.

Rating: Mixed
DR: 4 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Self-Released
Websites: exterminatus.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/exterminatusband
Releases Worldwide: April 18, 2025

#25 #2025 #Apr25 #Archspire #CanadianMetal #DeathMetal #EchoesFromADistantStarPart1 #Exterminatus #Review #Reviews #SelfReleased #TechnicalDeathMetal #TheFaceless #TheZenithPassage

Exterminatus – Echoes From a Distant Star Part 1 Review

By Owlswald

“Exterminatus” is a Warhammer 40k term that describes a global mass extinction event authorized by the emperor when the Imperium deems the cost of holding or retaking a planet too high. While I’m naïve about such things, Canadian fivesome Exterminatus certainly isn’t. And these Canucks are here to incinerate your eardrums with a heavy dose of sci-fi inspired tech-death. Originally demoed in 2012, Echoes From a Distant Star Part I was to be the follow-up to Xenocide’s debut album, Galactic Oppression. However, the group disbanded before they completed the album, and its members—including most of the original lineup—subsequently formed Exterminatus. Thirteen years later, these Vancouverites have released two solid albums and are finally prepared to relaunch Echoes after recording and re-recording the material three times. Seeking to venture into deep space through a celestial narrative that investigates interstellar creation and its obscure realities, I’m left wondering if the destination justifies the voyage.

Raising the pace and intensity of its predecessors, Exterminatus mostly operates in overdrive on Echoes, peppering the limited moments of empty space with Faceless-esque grooves and melodic leads. Lead by the dual axe attacks of Tabreez Azad and Elia Baghbaniyan, the duo warps the fabric of reality with their percussive shredding, laser-fire tremolos, and technical articulation, flicking and tapping for thirty minutes across the album’s seven chapters.1 Together with Max Sepulveda’s (The Zenith Passage) ruthless drumming, the trio dominate the record’s linear mix, occasionally permitting Lucas Abreu’s virtuosic basslines to break through the wall of crushing brutality (“The Cloud,” “Suffer in Silence”). Lukas Bresan’s heavy Archspire-like growls provide additional gravity as they narrate Echoes’ grand planetary saga. Drawing inspiration from the famous works of Isaac Asimov and Arthur C. Clarke, as well as the Stargate SG-1 and Mass Effect franchises, Exterminatus explores the universe’s fundamental forces through the familiar and technical movements of tech-death’s stalwarts.

Exterminatus thrive when they back off the accelerator and use their technical expression to manipulate the cosmos in a manner that boosts Echoes’ groove-rich currents. Closer “The Signal,” is a no-frills banger that finishes with a savage dose of syncopated thrash riffs and agile drumming that aptly finds the balance between brutality and accessibility. Abreu’s playful bass lines at the onset of “Cosmic Disturbance” conveys its ominous warning with finesse, while the pulse-driven riffing of the song’s end hits with the power of a supernova. Meanwhile, the heroic solo before the launch of “Starbound” or the melodic leads of “The New Theia” provide moments of respite around outbursts of cosmic turbulence. Though Echoes’ highlights are generally not as memorable as I would like, there are enough amidst the onslaught of staccatos, pummeling double bass, and light speed shifts to provide necessary touchstones and avoid a full system overload.

Still, Exterminatus’ ambitious pursuit fares better in concept than in execution. Track sequencing and songwriting diminish Echoes’ voyage, hindering the whole with abrupt openings and sudden descents that disrupt the journey. Songs like “Primordial Sea,” and “The New Theia” suffer from bloat, while “Suffer in Silence” and “The Signal” seem truncated. Accordingly, Echoes feels more academic than vibrant, a collection of separate tracks that are challenging to connect with, rather than an absorbing cosmic saga. Additionally, the production sacrifices nuance and emotion for volume and intensity, thereby crushing any promise of dynamics. The overly loud mix is too aggressive—particularly the drums and guitars—which fatigued my ears and became frustrating. Likewise, Exterminatus’ reliance on tropey bass drops to replace the lack of energy in Echoes’ peak moments are a distraction, achieving the opposite of their intended effect.

Despite years of development, Echoes doesn’t hit its mark. Exterminatus clearly possess the talent to create something special, and their commitment to crafting an ambitious, sci-fi narrative is commendable. However, the album’s songwriting and production prevent it from reaching its potential, serving instead as a demonstration of what they are capable of. What Echoes lacks in cohesion, it partly compensates for in technical expression and sheer sonic intensity. But if Exterminatus can refine the issues that hinder Echoes, their next venture into the cosmos could be great indeed.

Rating: Mixed
DR: 4 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Self-Released
Websites: exterminatus.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/exterminatusband
Releases Worldwide: April 18, 2025

#25 #2025 #Apr25 #Archspire #CanadianMetal #DeathMetal #EchoesFromADistantStarPart1 #Exterminatus #Review #Reviews #SelfReleased #TechnicalDeathMetal #TheFaceless #TheZenithPassage

The Last of Lucy – Godform Review

By Saunders

Record label trust and dependability is a cool thing. It was the catalyst behind the timeline-centric analysis on the Willowtip Files, and there remain many standout labels at the forefront of the current metal scene. Transcending Obscurity’s rise amongst the underground metal label ranks has been rapid, swelling in recent years as they house an increasingly powerful staple of killer bands, with the quality factor generally of a high standard across a packed roster of talented and unique artists. Taking around a decade from band conception to debut LP release, California’s The Last of Lucy have built underground momentum and refined their sound, arriving at their third LP, and second for Transcending Obscurity, entitled Godform. Aside from taste testing some of their previous work, in particular 2022’s Moksha, I largely divulge in this latest endeavor with fresh ears. Residing in the crowded, head-spinning realms of modern technical and brutal death, how does The Last of Lucy fare?

Like many of their modern tech-death peers, The Last of Lucy boast a similarly pristine sonic make-up. Death metal purists in the game for knuckle-dragging, filth-riddled fun will no doubt be flipping the bird to these fleet-fingered tech heads, who in contrast prefer their deathly poison adorned with slick, polished tones and in-your-face production, dispensing with breathing room and dynamics for obnoxious aural beatdowns. The Last of Lucy speckle their frenetic technical death metal formula with deathcore attitude and bombast, brutal uppercuts, and experimental excursions into introspective spacey excursions and jazzy noodling to break up the relentlessness of the bulk of the material comprising the album’s lean 32 minutes. The tight, propulsive, and complex musicianship is on point and clinically executed, spiking the techy punch with genuinely heavy grooves and breakdowns, wall of sound blasts, and speed aplenty.

Godform is a dense, knotty affair, not shy of deviating from traditional song structure or embracing a bombastic, atmospheric edge to complement the predominantly fast, aggressive attack on the senses. “Wormhole” wastes no time smacking the listener upside the cranium with its blistering attack, damaging grooves, and aggro vocal mix. The song serves its role as a meaty, energetic opening statement, featuring brief flashes of their softer touches. “Twin Flame” maximizes heaviness through a pummeling, stuttering crunch, before transitioning into a mellow break with clean vocal melodies and smooth, jazzy inflections. The contrast is jarring at times, but it makes for an intriguing listen. These contrasting softer sections are scattered across the album, offering a mostly interesting counterpoint to the heavier material. Certain songs dispense of the prettier atmospheric breaks in favor of furnace-blasting ferocity and in-your-face thuggery, tapping into melodeath influence through a brutal, technical lens on “Darkest Night of the Soul.” The Last of Lucy generally harness their songwriting into tight, short capsules, packing ample ideas into more concise, heavier cuts like the twisting dynamics and heaving stomp of “Shedim Seance.” Later album nuggets such as the closing title track, exhibit their bombastic impulses and spacey melodic breaks, with solid effect.

Underneath the technical flash and songwriting ambitiousness, does Godform result in an album to get your tech noodle flailing? Amidst the pile-driving grooves, the band’s frenetic percussive assault, intricate guitar work and need for speed creates a frantically intense experience. Unfortunately run of the mill moments and bleeding between songs diminishes the album’s more appealing elements and handful of solid cuts. Monotony creeps in, with much of the material blazing over without leaving a lasting impression. The fat, crushing grooves and deathcore style breakdowns pack a punch in the heaviness department, but several sound fairly stock and generic. Another damaging factor is the overly clean, clinical production and crushed, ear-fatiguing mastering job. It’s loud as shit and even across the album’s lean runtime, proves taxing on your earholes.

Godform offers plenty for like-minded tech death fans to get on board with, such as listeners that favor acts like The Faceless, Inferi and Archspire, and are not opposed to deathcore influences. There is no doubting the talents on display, and the experimental flourishes are intriguing and technical prowess impressive. However, songwriting potency remains fleeting, and when the whole firestorm subsides, lasting substance is questionable. The moments of faceless brutality and ear-smashing sound leaves a hollow final feeling, overshadowing the positive elements on display.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 4 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Transcending Obscurity Records
Websites: facebook.com/thelastoflucyofficial | thelastoflucyband.bandcamp.com/music
Releases Worldwide: May 17th, 2024

#25 #2024 #AmericanMetal #Archspire #DeathMetal #Deathcore #Godform #Inferi #Review #Reviews #TechDeath #TheFaceless #TheLastOfLucy #TranscendingObscurityRecords

The Last of Lucy – Godform Review

By Saunders

Record label trust and dependability is a cool thing. It was the catalyst behind the timeline-centric analysis on the Willowtip Files, and there remain many standout labels at the forefront of the current metal scene. Transcending Obscurity’s rise amongst the underground metal label ranks has been rapid, swelling in recent years as they house an increasingly powerful staple of killer bands, with the quality factor generally of a high standard across a packed roster of talented and unique artists. Taking around a decade from band conception to debut LP release, California’s The Last of Lucy have built underground momentum and refined their sound, arriving at their third LP, and second for Transcending Obscurity, entitled Godform. Aside from taste testing some of their previous work, in particular 2022’s Moksha, I largely divulge in this latest endeavor with fresh ears. Residing in the crowded, head-spinning realms of modern technical and brutal death, how does The Last of Lucy fare?

Like many of their modern tech-death peers, The Last of Lucy boast a similarly pristine sonic make-up. Death metal purists in the game for knuckle-dragging, filth-riddled fun will no doubt be flipping the bird to these fleet-fingered tech heads, who in contrast prefer their deathly poison adorned with slick, polished tones and in-your-face production, dispensing with breathing room and dynamics for obnoxious aural beatdowns. The Last of Lucy speckle their frenetic technical death metal formula with deathcore attitude and bombast, brutal uppercuts, and experimental excursions into introspective spacey excursions and jazzy noodling to break up the relentlessness of the bulk of the material comprising the album’s lean 32 minutes. The tight, propulsive, and complex musicianship is on point and clinically executed, spiking the techy punch with genuinely heavy grooves and breakdowns, wall of sound blasts, and speed aplenty.

Godform is a dense, knotty affair, not shy of deviating from traditional song structure or embracing a bombastic, atmospheric edge to complement the predominantly fast, aggressive attack on the senses. “Wormhole” wastes no time smacking the listener upside the cranium with its blistering attack, damaging grooves, and aggro vocal mix. The song serves its role as a meaty, energetic opening statement, featuring brief flashes of their softer touches. “Twin Flame” maximizes heaviness through a pummeling, stuttering crunch, before transitioning into a mellow break with clean vocal melodies and smooth, jazzy inflections. The contrast is jarring at times, but it makes for an intriguing listen. These contrasting softer sections are scattered across the album, offering a mostly interesting counterpoint to the heavier material. Certain songs dispense of the prettier atmospheric breaks in favor of furnace-blasting ferocity and in-your-face thuggery, tapping into melodeath influence through a brutal, technical lens on “Darkest Night of the Soul.” The Last of Lucy generally harness their songwriting into tight, short capsules, packing ample ideas into more concise, heavier cuts like the twisting dynamics and heaving stomp of “Shedim Seance.” Later album nuggets such as the closing title track, exhibit their bombastic impulses and spacey melodic breaks, with solid effect.

Underneath the technical flash and songwriting ambitiousness, does Godform result in an album to get your tech noodle flailing? Amidst the pile-driving grooves, the band’s frenetic percussive assault, intricate guitar work and need for speed creates a frantically intense experience. Unfortunately run of the mill moments and bleeding between songs diminishes the album’s more appealing elements and handful of solid cuts. Monotony creeps in, with much of the material blazing over without leaving a lasting impression. The fat, crushing grooves and deathcore style breakdowns pack a punch in the heaviness department, but several sound fairly stock and generic. Another damaging factor is the overly clean, clinical production and crushed, ear-fatiguing mastering job. It’s loud as shit and even across the album’s lean runtime, proves taxing on your earholes.

Godform offers plenty for like-minded tech death fans to get on board with, such as listeners that favor acts like The Faceless, Inferi and Archspire, and are not opposed to deathcore influences. There is no doubting the talents on display, and the experimental flourishes are intriguing and technical prowess impressive. However, songwriting potency remains fleeting, and when the whole firestorm subsides, lasting substance is questionable. The moments of faceless brutality and ear-smashing sound leaves a hollow final feeling, overshadowing the positive elements on display.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 4 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Transcending Obscurity Records
Websites: facebook.com/thelastoflucyofficial | thelastoflucyband.bandcamp.com/music
Releases Worldwide: May 17th, 2024

#25 #2024 #AmericanMetal #Archspire #DeathMetal #Deathcore #Godform #Inferi #Review #Reviews #TechDeath #TheFaceless #TheLastOfLucy #TranscendingObscurityRecords

The Last of Lucy – Godform Review

By Saunders

Record label trust and dependability is a cool thing. It was the catalyst behind the timeline-centric analysis on the Willowtip Files, and there remain many standout labels at the forefront of the current metal scene. Transcending Obscurity’s rise amongst the underground metal label ranks has been rapid, swelling in recent years as they house an increasingly powerful staple of killer bands, with the quality factor generally of a high standard across a packed roster of talented and unique artists. Taking around a decade from band conception to debut LP release, California’s The Last of Lucy have built underground momentum and refined their sound, arriving at their third LP, and second for Transcending Obscurity, entitled Godform. Aside from taste testing some of their previous work, in particular 2022’s Moksha, I largely divulge in this latest endeavor with fresh ears. Residing in the crowded, head-spinning realms of modern technical and brutal death, how does The Last of Lucy fare?

Like many of their modern tech-death peers, The Last of Lucy boast a similarly pristine sonic make-up. Death metal purists in the game for knuckle-dragging, filth-riddled fun will no doubt be flipping the bird to these fleet-fingered tech heads, who in contrast prefer their deathly poison adorned with slick, polished tones and in-your-face production, dispensing with breathing room and dynamics for obnoxious aural beatdowns. The Last of Lucy speckle their frenetic technical death metal formula with deathcore attitude and bombast, brutal uppercuts, and experimental excursions into introspective spacey excursions and jazzy noodling to break up the relentlessness of the bulk of the material comprising the album’s lean 32 minutes. The tight, propulsive, and complex musicianship is on point and clinically executed, spiking the techy punch with genuinely heavy grooves and breakdowns, wall of sound blasts, and speed aplenty.

Godform is a dense, knotty affair, not shy of deviating from traditional song structure or embracing a bombastic, atmospheric edge to complement the predominantly fast, aggressive attack on the senses. “Wormhole” wastes no time smacking the listener upside the cranium with its blistering attack, damaging grooves, and aggro vocal mix. The song serves its role as a meaty, energetic opening statement, featuring brief flashes of their softer touches. “Twin Flame” maximizes heaviness through a pummeling, stuttering crunch, before transitioning into a mellow break with clean vocal melodies and smooth, jazzy inflections. The contrast is jarring at times, but it makes for an intriguing listen. These contrasting softer sections are scattered across the album, offering a mostly interesting counterpoint to the heavier material. Certain songs dispense of the prettier atmospheric breaks in favor of furnace-blasting ferocity and in-your-face thuggery, tapping into melodeath influence through a brutal, technical lens on “Darkest Night of the Soul.” The Last of Lucy generally harness their songwriting into tight, short capsules, packing ample ideas into more concise, heavier cuts like the twisting dynamics and heaving stomp of “Shedim Seance.” Later album nuggets such as the closing title track, exhibit their bombastic impulses and spacey melodic breaks, with solid effect.

Underneath the technical flash and songwriting ambitiousness, does Godform result in an album to get your tech noodle flailing? Amidst the pile-driving grooves, the band’s frenetic percussive assault, intricate guitar work and need for speed creates a frantically intense experience. Unfortunately run of the mill moments and bleeding between songs diminishes the album’s more appealing elements and handful of solid cuts. Monotony creeps in, with much of the material blazing over without leaving a lasting impression. The fat, crushing grooves and deathcore style breakdowns pack a punch in the heaviness department, but several sound fairly stock and generic. Another damaging factor is the overly clean, clinical production and crushed, ear-fatiguing mastering job. It’s loud as shit and even across the album’s lean runtime, proves taxing on your earholes.

Godform offers plenty for like-minded tech death fans to get on board with, such as listeners that favor acts like The Faceless, Inferi and Archspire, and are not opposed to deathcore influences. There is no doubting the talents on display, and the experimental flourishes are intriguing and technical prowess impressive. However, songwriting potency remains fleeting, and when the whole firestorm subsides, lasting substance is questionable. The moments of faceless brutality and ear-smashing sound leaves a hollow final feeling, overshadowing the positive elements on display.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 4 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Transcending Obscurity Records
Websites: facebook.com/thelastoflucyofficial | thelastoflucyband.bandcamp.com/music
Releases Worldwide: May 17th, 2024

#25 #2024 #AmericanMetal #Archspire #DeathMetal #Deathcore #Godform #Inferi #Review #Reviews #TechDeath #TheFaceless #TheLastOfLucy #TranscendingObscurityRecords

Another victory in Spirit Island, think we lucked into two Spirits with good synergy (Rampant Green and Thunder)

Then a couple of tries at The Faceless. We almost backed this but this copy we lent from a friend. Glad we passed on it, really didn't click with us. Too much impreciseness. Art was really cool though.

Played 3 plays of #SpiritIsland and #TheFaceless on 2023-11-05, with 2 players #BGStats #Boardgames

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#MetalInjection
MITHRIDATUM (Ex-THE FACELESS & ABHORRENT) Streams Debut Album Harrowing

https://metalinjection.net/av/full-album-stream/mithridatum-ex-the-faceless-abhorrent-streams-debut-album-harrowing

#Mithridatum #MetalInjection #NewAlbum #Harrowing #TheFaceless #Abhorrent #ExMembers #HeavyMetal #MusicNews

#TheMetalDogArticleList
#MetalInjection
MITHRIDATUM (Ex-THE FACELESS & ABHORRENT) Streams Debut Album Harrowing

https://metalinjection.net/av/full-album-stream/mithridatum-ex-the-faceless-abhorrent-streams-debut-album-harrowing

#Mithridatum #MetalInjection #NewAlbum #Harrowing #TheFaceless #Abhorrent #ExMembers #HeavyMetal #MusicNews

#TheMetalDogArticleList
#Metal Injection
MITHRIDATUM (Ex-THE FACELESS & ABHORRENT) Streams Debut Album Harrowing

https://metalinjection.net/av/full-album-stream/mithridatum-ex-the-faceless-abhorrent-streams-debut-album-harrowing

#Mithridatum #MetalInjection #NewAlbum #Harrowing #TheFaceless #Abhorrent #ExMembers #HeavyMetal #MusicNews

#TheMetalDogArticleList
#MetalInjection
MITHRIDATUM (Ex-THE FACELESS & ABHORRENT) Streams Debut Album Harrowing

https://metalinjection.net/av/full-album-stream/mithridatum-ex-the-faceless-abhorrent-streams-debut-album-harrowing

#Mithridatum #MetalInjection #NewAlbum #Harrowing #TheFaceless #Abhorrent #ExMembers #HeavyMetal #MusicNews

I’m pushing through #MECFS symptoms to enjoy some #music (a very rare thing since I’ve become severe) and I shouldn’t, but well.

Listening to #AnimalsAsLeaders’ song The Problem of Other Minds, there’s a high pitched note that concludes the #guitar solo (and the whole build-up leading to it) that is pretty eargasmic.

The only other one I can think of right now is the solo on #TheFaceless’ Autotheism Movement II: Emancipate.

Let me know if you think of other solos like this!

I’m pushing through #MECFS symptoms to enjoy some #music (a very rare thing since I’ve become severe) and I shouldn’t, but well.

Listening to #AnimalsAsLeaders’ song The Problem of Other Minds, there’s a high pitched note that concludes the #guitar solo (and the whole build-up leading to it) that is pretty eargasmic.

The only other one I can think of right now is the solo on #TheFaceless’ Autotheism Movement II: Emancipate.

Let me know if you think of other solos like this!

I’m pushing through #MECFS symptoms to enjoy some #music (a very rare thing since I’ve become severe) and I shouldn’t, but well.

Listening to #AnimalsAsLeaders’ song The Problem of Other Minds, there’s a high pitched note that concludes the #guitar solo (and the whole build-up leading to it) that is pretty eargasmic.

The only other one I can think of right now is the solo on #TheFaceless’ Autotheism Movement II: Emancipate.

Let me know if you think of other solos like this!