#ukmetal — Public Fediverse posts

In case you’re unfamiliar, The Epic of Gilgamesh is an ancient Mesopotamian poetic narrative, whose first complete form is dated to approximately 1800 BCE. It follows a story of King Gilgamesh and his dealings with gods and other mythic monsters, culminating in a journey for the secret of immortality.1 What better way could there be to consume this rich, literary epic than have it interpreted by the collection of artists behind From the Waters of Death? Obscure black/doom duo Swords of Dis; death metal veteran and experimenter Serpent Ascending; Neptunian Maximalism’s darker, heavier incarnation Ôros Kaù; and ambient-black dreamer Midnight Odyssey. All are infamous—if you know who they are—for their strange, unconventional styles and love for long-form expression that borders on the self-indulgent, which may make them ideally suited to a Gilgamesh retelling. You may already be experiencing a sinking feeling of dread at those name-drops. But together these artists achieve something that exceeded my expectations even as it met them squarely.

While appearing to be a split, Waters is more of a collaboration as each individual contributes vocal or instrumental talents across multiple songs, including on those they wrote and take the lead in themselves. Spearheading the whole thing are Richard and Alice Corvinus of Swords of Dis, who have a hand in all lyrics and appear on every track. These lyrics, inspired by the words of the epic itself, consist of narration interspersed with dialogue between the various characters, and the five musicians rotate and share roles depending on who is involved in the corresponding part of the story. 2 This improves the album’s internal coherence—which might otherwise be hindered in a split format—whilst also allowing each movement to take on the personality of its lead artist. As a form of adaptation, the five tracks of reverb-filled, noisy, strange, melodramatically or demoniacally vocally-led, black-adjacent fringe metal lean into the grand, frightening side to the tale whose gravity us modern-age folk probably can’t appreciate properly. And it’s that excessive, almost absurd commitment to being different, which—and I can’t believe I’m saying this—actually works.

From The Waters Of Death by SWORDS OF DIS

Drama is at the heart of oral poetic tradition, and it’s Waters’ drama that similarly grounds its best aspects. Utmost credit goes to Alice Corvinus and her fierce (“From Egalmah They Rode…”3, operatic (“Araru Births the Lord of the Wilderness,” “From Egalmah…,” “Blood Stains The Altar…”4), sometimes eerie (“Into the Wailing Darkness”5) vocal performance. Her presence dominates as she provides some narration in addition to voicing every female character (and there are a lot of goddesses involved). Dark, minor tremolo refrains and Middle-Eastern-inspired melodies support her delivery, and the theatrical, flowing style Swords of Dis employ lends itself to this expression perfectly. In a different vein, the inhumanly gurgling snarls of Guillaume Cazalet (Ôros Kaù) make for a barbed contrast to otherwise vague, even beautiful, passages (“Blood…”), and can be genuinely frightening (“Into The Wailing Darkness”). All vocals—clean or harsh—are odd to a degree, sometimes even off-putting (“Araru…”). Yet most breaches of the cringe line are brief, and ameliorated by interesting instrumentation (“Blood…,” “From the Setting…”6). Those totally averse to what we anaemically refer to as ‘avant-garde’ in extreme metal can beg to differ, but the back and forth between dissonance and harmony (“Araru…,” “Blood…”), and between uncomfortable slowness and sudden speed (“From the Setting…”), is not only well-performed, it makes sense for the record’s narrative concept. A journey represented through a monotonous pattern (“From Egalmah…,” “From the Setting…”), the fury of a deity by means of an operatic surge (“From Egalmah…”).

Waters embodies the manner of epic poetry so well, however, that its digestibility is harmed as well as helped. Whether appropriate or not, its near-90-minute runtime makes engaging with its entirety a daunting prospect, and this is a record that fares best when you do give it the time and space to immerse you.7 The very aptness of the compositional style—long repetitive sections on the one hand, and frequent switches between tempo, melody, and vocalist on the other—which mimics recitation amongst orators, can prove taxing. It creates a dynamic of brilliant moments and stand-out performances, scattered unevenly inside overextended filling. It’s perhaps not a coincidence that the album’s midsection—the two tracks led by masterminds Swords of Dis—is by far the best and most even in quality, whereas its final act—Midnight Odyssey’s—is the least engaging and unable to support its length.8

Though Waters cannot escape the idiosyncrasies of the artists behind it—and so inherently restricts its audience—as an expression of this epic poem, these approaches to black metal are surprisingly apt. If you have the time to go on this adventure with Serpent Ascending, Ôros Kaù, Swords of Dis, and Midnight Odyssey, there’s plenty to enjoy. But if nothing else, let it be an excuse to learn about the original myth that inspires such weird, sometimes wonderful music.

Rating: Good(!)
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: I, Voidhanger
Websites: Album BC | Serpent Ascending BC | Serpent Ascending FB | Ôros Kaù BC | Ôros Kaù FB | Swords of Dis BC | Swords of Dis FB | Midnight Odyssey BC | Midnight Odyssey FB
Releases Worldwide: February 13th, 2026

In case you’re unfamiliar, The Epic of Gilgamesh is an ancient Mesopotamian poetic narrative, whose first complete form is dated to approximately 1800 BCE. It follows a story of King Gilgamesh and his dealings with gods and other mythic monsters, culminating in a journey for the secret of immortality.1 What better way could there be to consume this rich, literary epic than have it interpreted by the collection of artists behind From the Waters of Death? Obscure black/doom duo Swords of Dis; death metal veteran and experimenter Serpent Ascending; Neptunian Maximalism’s darker, heavier incarnation Ôros Kaù; and ambient-black dreamer Midnight Odyssey. All are infamous—if you know who they are—for their strange, unconventional styles and love for long-form expression that borders on the self-indulgent, which may make them ideally suited to a Gilgamesh retelling. You may already be experiencing a sinking feeling of dread at those name-drops. But together these artists achieve something that exceeded my expectations even as it met them squarely.

While appearing to be a split, Waters is more of a collaboration as each individual contributes vocal or instrumental talents across multiple songs, including on those they wrote and take the lead in themselves. Spearheading the whole thing are Richard and Alice Corvinus of Swords of Dis, who have a hand in all lyrics and appear on every track. These lyrics, inspired by the words of the epic itself, consist of narration interspersed with dialogue between the various characters, and the five musicians rotate and share roles depending on who is involved in the corresponding part of the story. 2 This improves the album’s internal coherence—which might otherwise be hindered in a split format—whilst also allowing each movement to take on the personality of its lead artist. As a form of adaptation, the five tracks of reverb-filled, noisy, strange, melodramatically or demoniacally vocally-led, black-adjacent fringe metal lean into the grand, frightening side to the tale whose gravity us modern-age folk probably can’t appreciate properly. And it’s that excessive, almost absurd commitment to being different, which—and I can’t believe I’m saying this—actually works.

From The Waters Of Death by SWORDS OF DIS

Drama is at the heart of oral poetic tradition, and it’s Waters’ drama that similarly grounds its best aspects. Utmost credit goes to Alice Corvinus and her fierce (“From Egalmah They Rode…”3, operatic (“Araru Births the Lord of the Wilderness,” “From Egalmah…,” “Blood Stains The Altar…”4), sometimes eerie (“Into the Wailing Darkness”5) vocal performance. Her presence dominates as she provides some narration in addition to voicing every female character (and there are a lot of goddesses involved). Dark, minor tremolo refrains and Middle-Eastern-inspired melodies support her delivery, and the theatrical, flowing style Swords of Dis employ lends itself to this expression perfectly. In a different vein, the inhumanly gurgling snarls of Guillaume Cazalet (Ôros Kaù) make for a barbed contrast to otherwise vague, even beautiful, passages (“Blood…”), and can be genuinely frightening (“Into The Wailing Darkness”). All vocals—clean or harsh—are odd to a degree, sometimes even off-putting (“Araru…”). Yet most breaches of the cringe line are brief, and ameliorated by interesting instrumentation (“Blood…,” “From the Setting…”6). Those totally averse to what we anaemically refer to as ‘avant-garde’ in extreme metal can beg to differ, but the back and forth between dissonance and harmony (“Araru…,” “Blood…”), and between uncomfortable slowness and sudden speed (“From the Setting…”), is not only well-performed, it makes sense for the record’s narrative concept. A journey represented through a monotonous pattern (“From Egalmah…,” “From the Setting…”), the fury of a deity by means of an operatic surge (“From Egalmah…”).

Waters embodies the manner of epic poetry so well, however, that its digestibility is harmed as well as helped. Whether appropriate or not, its near-90-minute runtime makes engaging with its entirety a daunting prospect, and this is a record that fares best when you do give it the time and space to immerse you.7 The very aptness of the compositional style—long repetitive sections on the one hand, and frequent switches between tempo, melody, and vocalist on the other—which mimics recitation amongst orators, can prove taxing. It creates a dynamic of brilliant moments and stand-out performances, scattered unevenly inside overextended filling. It’s perhaps not a coincidence that the album’s midsection—the two tracks led by masterminds Swords of Dis—is by far the best and most even in quality, whereas its final act—Midnight Odyssey’s—is the least engaging and unable to support its length.8

Though Waters cannot escape the idiosyncrasies of the artists behind it—and so inherently restricts its audience—as an expression of this epic poem, these approaches to black metal are surprisingly apt. If you have the time to go on this adventure with Serpent Ascending, Ôros Kaù, Swords of Dis, and Midnight Odyssey, there’s plenty to enjoy. But if nothing else, let it be an excuse to learn about the original myth that inspires such weird, sometimes wonderful music.

Rating: Good(!)
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: I, Voidhanger
Websites: Album BC | Serpent Ascending BC | Serpent Ascending FB | Ôros Kaù BC | Ôros Kaù FB | Swords of Dis BC | Swords of Dis FB | Midnight Odyssey BC | Midnight Odyssey FB
Releases Worldwide: February 13th, 2026

In case you’re unfamiliar, The Epic of Gilgamesh is an ancient Mesopotamian poetic narrative, whose first complete form is dated to approximately 1800 BCE. It follows a story of King Gilgamesh and his dealings with gods and other mythic monsters, culminating in a journey for the secret of immortality.1 What better way could there be to consume this rich, literary epic than have it interpreted by the collection of artists behind From the Waters of Death? Obscure black/doom duo Swords of Dis; death metal veteran and experimenter Serpent Ascending; Neptunian Maximalism’s darker, heavier incarnation Ôros Kaù; and ambient-black dreamer Midnight Odyssey. All are infamous—if you know who they are—for their strange, unconventional styles and love for long-form expression that borders on the self-indulgent, which may make them ideally suited to a Gilgamesh retelling. You may already be experiencing a sinking feeling of dread at those name-drops. But together these artists achieve something that exceeded my expectations even as it met them squarely.

While appearing to be a split, Waters is more of a collaboration as each individual contributes vocal or instrumental talents across multiple songs, including on those they wrote and take the lead in themselves. Spearheading the whole thing are Richard and Alice Corvinus of Swords of Dis, who have a hand in all lyrics and appear on every track. These lyrics, inspired by the words of the epic itself, consist of narration interspersed with dialogue between the various characters, and the five musicians rotate and share roles depending on who is involved in the corresponding part of the story. 2 This improves the album’s internal coherence—which might otherwise be hindered in a split format—whilst also allowing each movement to take on the personality of its lead artist. As a form of adaptation, the five tracks of reverb-filled, noisy, strange, melodramatically or demoniacally vocally-led, black-adjacent fringe metal lean into the grand, frightening side to the tale whose gravity us modern-age folk probably can’t appreciate properly. And it’s that excessive, almost absurd commitment to being different, which—and I can’t believe I’m saying this—actually works.

From The Waters Of Death by SWORDS OF DIS

Drama is at the heart of oral poetic tradition, and it’s Waters’ drama that similarly grounds its best aspects. Utmost credit goes to Alice Corvinus and her fierce (“From Egalmah They Rode…”3, operatic (“Araru Births the Lord of the Wilderness,” “From Egalmah…,” “Blood Stains The Altar…”4), sometimes eerie (“Into the Wailing Darkness”5) vocal performance. Her presence dominates as she provides some narration in addition to voicing every female character (and there are a lot of goddesses involved). Dark, minor tremolo refrains and Middle-Eastern-inspired melodies support her delivery, and the theatrical, flowing style Swords of Dis employ lends itself to this expression perfectly. In a different vein, the inhumanly gurgling snarls of Guillaume Cazalet (Ôros Kaù) make for a barbed contrast to otherwise vague, even beautiful, passages (“Blood…”), and can be genuinely frightening (“Into The Wailing Darkness”). All vocals—clean or harsh—are odd to a degree, sometimes even off-putting (“Araru…”). Yet most breaches of the cringe line are brief, and ameliorated by interesting instrumentation (“Blood…,” “From the Setting…”6). Those totally averse to what we anaemically refer to as ‘avant-garde’ in extreme metal can beg to differ, but the back and forth between dissonance and harmony (“Araru…,” “Blood…”), and between uncomfortable slowness and sudden speed (“From the Setting…”), is not only well-performed, it makes sense for the record’s narrative concept. A journey represented through a monotonous pattern (“From Egalmah…,” “From the Setting…”), the fury of a deity by means of an operatic surge (“From Egalmah…”).

Waters embodies the manner of epic poetry so well, however, that its digestibility is harmed as well as helped. Whether appropriate or not, its near-90-minute runtime makes engaging with its entirety a daunting prospect, and this is a record that fares best when you do give it the time and space to immerse you.7 The very aptness of the compositional style—long repetitive sections on the one hand, and frequent switches between tempo, melody, and vocalist on the other—which mimics recitation amongst orators, can prove taxing. It creates a dynamic of brilliant moments and stand-out performances, scattered unevenly inside overextended filling. It’s perhaps not a coincidence that the album’s midsection—the two tracks led by masterminds Swords of Dis—is by far the best and most even in quality, whereas its final act—Midnight Odyssey’s—is the least engaging and unable to support its length.8

Though Waters cannot escape the idiosyncrasies of the artists behind it—and so inherently restricts its audience—as an expression of this epic poem, these approaches to black metal are surprisingly apt. If you have the time to go on this adventure with Serpent Ascending, Ôros Kaù, Swords of Dis, and Midnight Odyssey, there’s plenty to enjoy. But if nothing else, let it be an excuse to learn about the original myth that inspires such weird, sometimes wonderful music.

Rating: Good(!)
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: I, Voidhanger
Websites: Album BC | Serpent Ascending BC | Serpent Ascending FB | Ôros Kaù BC | Ôros Kaù FB | Swords of Dis BC | Swords of Dis FB | Midnight Odyssey BC | Midnight Odyssey FB
Releases Worldwide: February 13th, 2026

In case you’re unfamiliar, The Epic of Gilgamesh is an ancient Mesopotamian poetic narrative, whose first complete form is dated to approximately 1800 BCE. It follows a story of King Gilgamesh and his dealings with gods and other mythic monsters, culminating in a journey for the secret of immortality.1 What better way could there be to consume this rich, literary epic than have it interpreted by the collection of artists behind From the Waters of Death? Obscure black/doom duo Swords of Dis; death metal veteran and experimenter Serpent Ascending; Neptunian Maximalism’s darker, heavier incarnation Ôros Kaù; and ambient-black dreamer Midnight Odyssey. All are infamous—if you know who they are—for their strange, unconventional styles and love for long-form expression that borders on the self-indulgent, which may make them ideally suited to a Gilgamesh retelling. You may already be experiencing a sinking feeling of dread at those name-drops. But together these artists achieve something that exceeded my expectations even as it met them squarely.

While appearing to be a split, Waters is more of a collaboration as each individual contributes vocal or instrumental talents across multiple songs, including on those they wrote and take the lead in themselves. Spearheading the whole thing are Richard and Alice Corvinus of Swords of Dis, who have a hand in all lyrics and appear on every track. These lyrics, inspired by the words of the epic itself, consist of narration interspersed with dialogue between the various characters, and the five musicians rotate and share roles depending on who is involved in the corresponding part of the story. 2 This improves the album’s internal coherence—which might otherwise be hindered in a split format—whilst also allowing each movement to take on the personality of its lead artist. As a form of adaptation, the five tracks of reverb-filled, noisy, strange, melodramatically or demoniacally vocally-led, black-adjacent fringe metal lean into the grand, frightening side to the tale whose gravity us modern-age folk probably can’t appreciate properly. And it’s that excessive, almost absurd commitment to being different, which—and I can’t believe I’m saying this—actually works.

From The Waters Of Death by SWORDS OF DIS

Drama is at the heart of oral poetic tradition, and it’s Waters’ drama that similarly grounds its best aspects. Utmost credit goes to Alice Corvinus and her fierce (“From Egalmah They Rode…”3, operatic (“Araru Births the Lord of the Wilderness,” “From Egalmah…,” “Blood Stains The Altar…”4), sometimes eerie (“Into the Wailing Darkness”5) vocal performance. Her presence dominates as she provides some narration in addition to voicing every female character (and there are a lot of goddesses involved). Dark, minor tremolo refrains and Middle-Eastern-inspired melodies support her delivery, and the theatrical, flowing style Swords of Dis employ lends itself to this expression perfectly. In a different vein, the inhumanly gurgling snarls of Guillaume Cazalet (Ôros Kaù) make for a barbed contrast to otherwise vague, even beautiful, passages (“Blood…”), and can be genuinely frightening (“Into The Wailing Darkness”). All vocals—clean or harsh—are odd to a degree, sometimes even off-putting (“Araru…”). Yet most breaches of the cringe line are brief, and ameliorated by interesting instrumentation (“Blood…,” “From the Setting…”6). Those totally averse to what we anaemically refer to as ‘avant-garde’ in extreme metal can beg to differ, but the back and forth between dissonance and harmony (“Araru…,” “Blood…”), and between uncomfortable slowness and sudden speed (“From the Setting…”), is not only well-performed, it makes sense for the record’s narrative concept. A journey represented through a monotonous pattern (“From Egalmah…,” “From the Setting…”), the fury of a deity by means of an operatic surge (“From Egalmah…”).

Waters embodies the manner of epic poetry so well, however, that its digestibility is harmed as well as helped. Whether appropriate or not, its near-90-minute runtime makes engaging with its entirety a daunting prospect, and this is a record that fares best when you do give it the time and space to immerse you.7 The very aptness of the compositional style—long repetitive sections on the one hand, and frequent switches between tempo, melody, and vocalist on the other—which mimics recitation amongst orators, can prove taxing. It creates a dynamic of brilliant moments and stand-out performances, scattered unevenly inside overextended filling. It’s perhaps not a coincidence that the album’s midsection—the two tracks led by masterminds Swords of Dis—is by far the best and most even in quality, whereas its final act—Midnight Odyssey’s—is the least engaging and unable to support its length.8

Though Waters cannot escape the idiosyncrasies of the artists behind it—and so inherently restricts its audience—as an expression of this epic poem, these approaches to black metal are surprisingly apt. If you have the time to go on this adventure with Serpent Ascending, Ôros Kaù, Swords of Dis, and Midnight Odyssey, there’s plenty to enjoy. But if nothing else, let it be an excuse to learn about the original myth that inspires such weird, sometimes wonderful music.

Rating: Good(!)
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: I, Voidhanger
Websites: Album BC | Serpent Ascending BC | Serpent Ascending FB | Ôros Kaù BC | Ôros Kaù FB | Swords of Dis BC | Swords of Dis FB | Midnight Odyssey BC | Midnight Odyssey FB
Releases Worldwide: February 13th, 2026

In case you’re unfamiliar, The Epic of Gilgamesh is an ancient Mesopotamian poetic narrative, whose first complete form is dated to approximately 1800 BCE. It follows a story of King Gilgamesh and his dealings with gods and other mythic monsters, culminating in a journey for the secret of immortality.1 What better way could there be to consume this rich, literary epic than have it interpreted by the collection of artists behind From the Waters of Death? Obscure black/doom duo Swords of Dis; death metal veteran and experimenter Serpent Ascending; Neptunian Maximalism’s darker, heavier incarnation Ôros Kaù; and ambient-black dreamer Midnight Odyssey. All are infamous—if you know who they are—for their strange, unconventional styles and love for long-form expression that borders on the self-indulgent, which may make them ideally suited to a Gilgamesh retelling. You may already be experiencing a sinking feeling of dread at those name-drops. But together these artists achieve something that exceeded my expectations even as it met them squarely.

While appearing to be a split, Waters is more of a collaboration as each individual contributes vocal or instrumental talents across multiple songs, including on those they wrote and take the lead in themselves. Spearheading the whole thing are Richard and Alice Corvinus of Swords of Dis, who have a hand in all lyrics and appear on every track. These lyrics, inspired by the words of the epic itself, consist of narration interspersed with dialogue between the various characters, and the five musicians rotate and share roles depending on who is involved in the corresponding part of the story. 2 This improves the album’s internal coherence—which might otherwise be hindered in a split format—whilst also allowing each movement to take on the personality of its lead artist. As a form of adaptation, the five tracks of reverb-filled, noisy, strange, melodramatically or demoniacally vocally-led, black-adjacent fringe metal lean into the grand, frightening side to the tale whose gravity us modern-age folk probably can’t appreciate properly. And it’s that excessive, almost absurd commitment to being different, which—and I can’t believe I’m saying this—actually works.

From The Waters Of Death by SWORDS OF DIS

Drama is at the heart of oral poetic tradition, and it’s Waters’ drama that similarly grounds its best aspects. Utmost credit goes to Alice Corvinus and her fierce (“From Egalmah They Rode…”3, operatic (“Araru Births the Lord of the Wilderness,” “From Egalmah…,” “Blood Stains The Altar…”4), sometimes eerie (“Into the Wailing Darkness”5) vocal performance. Her presence dominates as she provides some narration in addition to voicing every female character (and there are a lot of goddesses involved). Dark, minor tremolo refrains and Middle-Eastern-inspired melodies support her delivery, and the theatrical, flowing style Swords of Dis employ lends itself to this expression perfectly. In a different vein, the inhumanly gurgling snarls of Guillaume Cazalet (Ôros Kaù) make for a barbed contrast to otherwise vague, even beautiful, passages (“Blood…”), and can be genuinely frightening (“Into The Wailing Darkness”). All vocals—clean or harsh—are odd to a degree, sometimes even off-putting (“Araru…”). Yet most breaches of the cringe line are brief, and ameliorated by interesting instrumentation (“Blood…,” “From the Setting…”6). Those totally averse to what we anaemically refer to as ‘avant-garde’ in extreme metal can beg to differ, but the back and forth between dissonance and harmony (“Araru…,” “Blood…”), and between uncomfortable slowness and sudden speed (“From the Setting…”), is not only well-performed, it makes sense for the record’s narrative concept. A journey represented through a monotonous pattern (“From Egalmah…,” “From the Setting…”), the fury of a deity by means of an operatic surge (“From Egalmah…”).

Waters embodies the manner of epic poetry so well, however, that its digestibility is harmed as well as helped. Whether appropriate or not, its near-90-minute runtime makes engaging with its entirety a daunting prospect, and this is a record that fares best when you do give it the time and space to immerse you.7 The very aptness of the compositional style—long repetitive sections on the one hand, and frequent switches between tempo, melody, and vocalist on the other—which mimics recitation amongst orators, can prove taxing. It creates a dynamic of brilliant moments and stand-out performances, scattered unevenly inside overextended filling. It’s perhaps not a coincidence that the album’s midsection—the two tracks led by masterminds Swords of Dis—is by far the best and most even in quality, whereas its final act—Midnight Odyssey’s—is the least engaging and unable to support its length.8

Though Waters cannot escape the idiosyncrasies of the artists behind it—and so inherently restricts its audience—as an expression of this epic poem, these approaches to black metal are surprisingly apt. If you have the time to go on this adventure with Serpent Ascending, Ôros Kaù, Swords of Dis, and Midnight Odyssey, there’s plenty to enjoy. But if nothing else, let it be an excuse to learn about the original myth that inspires such weird, sometimes wonderful music.

Rating: Good(!)
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: I, Voidhanger
Websites: Album BC | Serpent Ascending BC | Serpent Ascending FB | Ôros Kaù BC | Ôros Kaù FB | Swords of Dis BC | Swords of Dis FB | Midnight Odyssey BC | Midnight Odyssey FB
Releases Worldwide: February 13th, 2026

Under – What Happened In Roundwood Review

There’s something tantalizing about the brand of metal-adjacent noise rock that’s experienced a renaissance in recent years. It’s…
#NewsBeep #News #Music #2026 #3.0 #APFRecords #ArtRock #ChatPile #CouchSlut #Entertainment #ExperimentalMetal #FreeJazz #Intercourse #Jan26 #Melvins #NoiseRock #PrimitiveMan #review #Reviews #SludgeMetal #Swans #UK #UKMetal #under #UnitedKingdom #WhatHappenedInRoundwood
https://www.newsbeep.com/uk/398177/

https://www.europesays.com/uk/271116/ Calva Louise – Edge of the Abyss Review #2025 #4.0 #CalvaLouise #CoheedAndCambria #crossover #DiabloSwingOrchestra #Dubstep #EdgeOfTheAbyss #Electronica #Entertainment #GrooveMetal #Jul25 #Katatonia #KateBush #KingGoat #MascotLabelGroup #MascotRecords #Metalcore #MonsieurPeriné #Muse #music #PopLatino #ProgressiveMetal #SystemOfADown #TheKovenant #three #UK #UKMetal #UnitedKingdom

Calva Louise – Edge of the Abyss Review

By Angry Metal Guy

Genre is a funny thing. Calva Louise will almost certainly be called “Crossover.” Their sound is a combination of elements that, if I read each one individually, would make me cringe or shrug my shoulders. Seen grouped on the page, I might ask, “How would that even work?” What I wouldn’t expect is an album that excites me. The kind of excitement that drives one to spin the record again immediately. The kind of excitement that leads to sharing the record with anyone who will listen and lengthy discussions of the details of whether someone else noticed the Fleshgod Apocalypse piano arpeggios in track four.1 But Edge of the Abyss is a rare record that manages to feel wild, unpredictable, and yet addictive—evocative—all at once. And while it’s apparently a concept album, the real story that I’m following is the one told in the songs that add up to something greater than the sum of their parts.

The strength of Edge of the Abyss lies in its fusions, and I mean that in every sense. Calva Louise doesn’t blend styles; they smash them together. “Tunnel Vision” rips open the record with a sugar-rush hook, bouncing within three minutes from pop-chorus to dubstep drop to metallic groove. “W.T.F.” is exactly that: frenetic, agitated, and punky. “Aimless,” the album’s first single, is a real highlight, threading unpredictable melodies, classical piano runs, and crunchy metal riffage into something that feels like “Justice for Saint Marie” (Diablo Swing Orchestra) but with a dembow beat.2 Each song can be emphasized for such moments: “Hate in Me” swaps between Katatonia and Kate Bush without skipping a beat; “Under the Skin” gives Lacuna Coil while “Barely a Response” blends 3/Coheed and Cambria and Muse to create something that just vibes right—blending proggy post-punk with The Fall of Hearts.

The balancing act is accomplished by Edge of the Abyss being extremely well-composed. These songs, while poppy—slick, catchy, memorable—aren’t glued together Frankenpop. Instead, they’re meticulously assembled homunculi, each with its own little soul.3 There’s a sense throughout the first half of this record that you’re listening to something much more thoughtful than its surface chaos might suggest. I might be imagining things, but this is where frontwoman and primary composer Jess Allanic’s background in composition seems to play a major role. The fact that Calva Louise can evoke so many different bands, sounds, and seamlessly traverse genre boundaries in seconds—from harmonized vocals over Latin folk beats to crunchy groove to house in moments (“El Umbral”)—without seeming scattered speaks to a deep understanding of music.4

You can feel that deep understanding of music in Edge of the Abyss’s most daring material: its multilingual, rhythmically tangled, and emotionally exposed core. “Lo Que Vale,” which may be my favorite song, strips things back enough to let Allanic’s small-but-commanding voice—reminiscent of Catalina García (Monsieur Periné)—to shine. “Impeccable” evokes The Kovenant’s “New World Order” before erupting into harmonized guitar leads and New Wave vibes. These are songs with giant choruses, and while Allanic has a remarkable presence and extremely deft melodic sense, she never dominates the mix. Whether screaming, speaking, or singing, her voice is expertly integrated, capable of balancing Kate Bush and Jonas Renkse depending on where she is in a song (“Hate in Me”), with harmonic sensibilities that bring me back to 3‘s The End Is Begun. Her presence does for Calva Louise what Serj Tankian did for System of a Down or Trim for King Goat. But unlike the aforementioned vocalists, she’s playing guitar, piano, and writing songs.

Edge of the Abyss is not perfect, however. First, the record’s energy flags a bit in the back half, where “The Abyss” pulls its punches and “Under the Skin” leans too hard on its mid-tempo groove. Nothing here fails, but the band’s frenetic, genre-defying dynamism seems more concentrated in the first six tracks. Still, even at its weakest, Edge of the Abyss brims with detail—piano breaks, synth arpeggios, key changes—that keep it from feeling inert. And repeated listens have only deepened my appreciation for these later tracks. If the front half is where Calva Louise erupts, the back half is where the ash is beginning to fall. Second, while there is supposedly a concept here, I have no idea what it is. In the tradition of Coheed & Cambria, who famously have a massive story but lyrics that read like “girl doesn’t like boy and boy gets mad about it,” a lot of this just reads as angst.

Some records sound big, and some records feel big. Edge of the Abyss does both.5 It feels big because it has ideas, and it succeeds because it commits to those ideas with zero regard for genre gatekeeping, scene politics, or what guys like me think is cool. It’s weird, catchy, and gleefully sophisticated, with every song bringing something unique to the table. Every arrangement counts. It’s a banger parade, and it’s hard not to feel like it’s also smart as hell. Is it perfect? No. But it’s addictive, it’s fun, and it’s going to be the most controversial Record o’ the Month since Gazpacho.

Rating: Great!
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s CBR MP3
Label: Mascot Records
Websites: calvalouise.com | calvalouise.bandcamp.com
Release Date: July 11th, 2025

#2025 #40 #CalvaLouise #CoheedAndCambria #crossover #DiabloSwingOrchestra #Dubstep #EdgeOfTheAbyss #Electronica #GrooveMetal #Jul25 #Katatonia #KateBush #KingGoat #MascotLabelGroup #MascotRecords #Metalcore #MonsieurPeriné #Muse #PopLatino #ProgressiveMetal #SystemOfADown #TheKovenant #Three #UKMetal

Calva Louise – Edge of the Abyss Review

By Angry Metal Guy

Genre is a funny thing. Calva Louise will almost certainly be called “Crossover.” Their sound is a combination of elements that, if I read each one individually, would make me cringe or shrug my shoulders. Seen grouped on the page, I might ask, “How would that even work?” What I wouldn’t expect is an album that excites me. The kind of excitement that drives one to spin the record again immediately. The kind of excitement that leads to sharing the record with anyone who will listen and lengthy discussions of the details of whether someone else noticed the Fleshgod Apocalypse piano arpeggios in track four.1 But Edge of the Abyss is a rare record that manages to feel wild, unpredictable, and yet addictive—evocative—all at once. And while it’s apparently a concept album, the real story that I’m following is the one told in the songs that add up to something greater than the sum of their parts.

The strength of Edge of the Abyss lies in its fusions, and I mean that in every sense. Calva Louise doesn’t blend styles; they smash them together. “Tunnel Vision” rips open the record with a sugar-rush hook, bouncing within three minutes from pop-chorus to dubstep drop to metallic groove. “W.T.F.” is exactly that: frenetic, agitated, and punky. “Aimless,” the album’s first single, is a real highlight, threading unpredictable melodies, classical piano runs, and crunchy metal riffage into something that feels like “Justice for Saint Marie” (Diablo Swing Orchestra) but with a dembow beat.2 Each song can be emphasized for such moments: “Hate in Me” swaps between Katatonia and Kate Bush without skipping a beat; “Under the Skin” gives Lacuna Coil while “Barely a Response” blends 3/Coheed and Cambria and Muse to create something that just vibes right—blending proggy post-punk with The Fall of Hearts.

The balancing act is accomplished by Edge of the Abyss being extremely well-composed. These songs, while poppy—slick, catchy, memorable—aren’t glued together Frankenpop. Instead, they’re meticulously assembled homunculi, each with its own little soul.3 There’s a sense throughout the first half of this record that you’re listening to something much more thoughtful than its surface chaos might suggest. I might be imagining things, but this is where frontwoman and primary composer Jess Allanic’s background in composition seems to play a major role. The fact that Calva Louise can evoke so many different bands, sounds, and seamlessly traverse genre boundaries in seconds—from harmonized vocals over Latin folk beats to crunchy groove to house in moments (“El Umbral”)—without seeming scattered speaks to a deep understanding of music.4

You can feel that deep understanding of music in Edge of the Abyss’s most daring material: its multilingual, rhythmically tangled, and emotionally exposed core. “Lo Que Vale,” which may be my favorite song, strips things back enough to let Allanic’s small-but-commanding voice—reminiscent of Catalina García (Monsieur Periné)—to shine. “Impeccable” evokes The Kovenant’s “New World Order” before erupting into harmonized guitar leads and New Wave vibes. These are songs with giant choruses, and while Allanic has a remarkable presence and extremely deft melodic sense, she never dominates the mix. Whether screaming, speaking, or singing, her voice is expertly integrated, capable of balancing Kate Bush and Jonas Renkse depending on where she is in a song (“Hate in Me”), with harmonic sensibilities that bring me back to 3‘s The End Is Begun. Her presence does for Calva Louise what Serj Tankian did for System of a Down or Trim for King Goat. But unlike the aforementioned vocalists, she’s playing guitar, piano, and writing songs.

Edge of the Abyss is not perfect, however. First, the record’s energy flags a bit in the back half, where “The Abyss” pulls its punches and “Under the Skin” leans too hard on its mid-tempo groove. Nothing here fails, but the band’s frenetic, genre-defying dynamism seems more concentrated in the first six tracks. Still, even at its weakest, Edge of the Abyss brims with detail—piano breaks, synth arpeggios, key changes—that keep it from feeling inert. And repeated listens have only deepened my appreciation for these later tracks. If the front half is where Calva Louise erupts, the back half is where the ash is beginning to fall. Second, while there is supposedly a concept here, I have no idea what it is. In the tradition of Coheed & Cambria, who famously have a massive story but lyrics that read like “girl doesn’t like boy and boy gets mad about it,” a lot of this just reads as angst.

Some records sound big, and some records feel big. Edge of the Abyss does both.5 It feels big because it has ideas, and it succeeds because it commits to those ideas with zero regard for genre gatekeeping, scene politics, or what guys like me think is cool. It’s weird, catchy, and gleefully sophisticated, with every song bringing something unique to the table. Every arrangement counts. It’s a banger parade, and it’s hard not to feel like it’s also smart as hell. Is it perfect? No. But it’s addictive, it’s fun, and it’s going to be the most controversial Record o’ the Month since Gazpacho.

Rating: Great!
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s CBR MP3
Label: Mascot Records
Websites: calvalouise.com | calvalouise.bandcamp.com
Release Date: July 11th, 2025

#2025 #40 #CalvaLouise #CoheedAndCambria #crossover #DiabloSwingOrchestra #Dubstep #EdgeOfTheAbyss #Electronica #GrooveMetal #Jul25 #Katatonia #KateBush #KingGoat #MascotLabelGroup #MascotRecords #Metalcore #MonsieurPeriné #Muse #PopLatino #ProgressiveMetal #SystemOfADown #TheKovenant #Three #UKMetal