#usmetal — Public Fediverse posts

Il Segreto del Vero Rock: Perché la Tua Chitarra Ha Bisogno di un Mastro Liutaio (E Dove Trovarlo!)

https://metal-lore.com/2026/07/20/il-segreto-del-vero-rock-perche-la-tua-chitarra-ha-bisogno-di-un-mastro-liutaio-e-dove-trovarlo/

Il Segreto del Vero Rock: Perché la Tua Chitarra Ha Bisogno di un Mastro Liutaio (E Dove Trovarlo!)

https://metal-lore.com/2026/07/20/il-segreto-del-vero-rock-perche-la-tua-chitarra-ha-bisogno-di-un-mastro-liutaio-e-dove-trovarlo/

Quite like its illustrious barbecue, North Carolina’s sludge offers a variety of flavors. Raleigh’s own COC serves the slow-smoked standard, Wilmington’s Weedeater plate a vinegary take on the subgenre, and even Asheville’s Bask season their heavy Americana with sludge. To stand out in this vibrant culinary scene, MAKE brand theirs as ‘thematic psychedelic noise-sludge.’ Formed in Raleigh in 2008 by Scott Endres (guitar, vocals) and Spencer Lee (bass, guitar, vocals), MAKE made waves in 2016 when they aligned with Accident Prone Records for their Pilgrimage of Loathing. Joining Endres and Lee for Exegesis at the End of Time, the band’s fourth full-length (and first in a decade), are drummer John Crouch and bassist/vocalist/synthesizer-ist Aaron Smithers.1 MAKE’s self-description suggests a whole-hog approach2 to extreme metal/rock, but branding is not execution—these ingredients must coalesce into a delicious, satisfying tray.

Exegesis at the End of Time amiably shares a table with formative noise-sludge outfits. Not just because their names rhyme, MAKE reminds me most of Rwake, insofar as a panoply of extreme vocal stylings—gutturals, anguished shrieks, shout-singing—dresses longish songs with a Southern flair (“The End of the Night”). The paradigmatic dynamism of Neurosis also makes appearances, with quiet, bass-driven incantations giving way to harsh punctuations of razor-wire riffing (“Forking Paths”). The frequent centrality of the bass also recalls Isis; MAKE similarly thrives when the low end establishes a melodic groove that opens the door to crushing dirges (“The Augur”). Though its production isn’t as thick n’ rich as I would like for a sludge record, Exegesis skillfully balances its ingredients, ensuring that riffs never get lost in the sauce.

Despite its branding, Exegesis at the End of Time doesn’t strike me as particularly ‘psychedelic.’ I think of psychedelic music as requiring acquiescence to agents of transcendence from below, so as to ascend to the noumenon. MAKE does make the effort to put listeners into a meditative headspace. “The End of the Night” opens the album with three minutes of rhythmless synth/guitar shimmering before a simple, bluesy bass line emerges. Mid-album track “Forking Path” and closer “The Augur” make similar moves: ritualistic bass sets a droning tone, an abrasive sludge-hammer responds. It is in moments like these that MAKE falters a bit as a purportedly ‘psychedelic’ act. The heavy responses frequently pulverize, but they don’t uplift to a new plane of existence. “Chimera,” one of the most straightforward songs on Exegesis, stands as something of an exception. Its chaotic ending, layering heavily-effected, high-register guitar noise over a stank-faced head-bobber, does induce a degree of transcendence.

On the ‘thematic’ side of its branding, Exegesis at the End of Time grows in enjoyment with knowledge of its lyrics, even as it feels thematically divided. In their promo materials, MAKE speaks of a singular ‘concept’: ‘[T]he order that rules our world represents a cosmic violence that will destroy us if we don’t conquer it.’3 The distorted, dissonant chords punctuating the chill spaciness of opener “The End of the Night” sonically establish earthly violence impinging upon a serene cosmos. But despite their singular concept, MAKE also outlines multiple literary influences: McCarthy, Pynchon, DeBord. The labyrinth adorning the cover suggests that “Forking Paths,” a song dramatizing the disorienting temporality of the Borgesian labyrinth, connects the album’s overarching concept to its particular literary allusions. As a retelling of “The Garden of Forking Paths,” though, the song removes [SPOILER ALERT] the climactic gunshot [END SPOILER ALERT]. In my deeper dive, the album felt like it forked between paths puzzling over possible futures (“The End of the Night”) and those explicating our destructive present (“Chimera,” “The Spectacle”). Still, the lyrics almost always enhance the tracks—the seemingly-endless tension chord in the middle of “The Augur,” for one, excellently captures Sisyphus futilely pushing the boulder up the hill.

More a conceptual record than a concept record, Exegesis at the End of Time nevertheless comprises a worthy tray. ‘Exegesis’ usually connotes long-windedness, but MAKE’s fourth album is relatively concise at 41 minutes, leaving me full but not overstuffed. It may imply a scope it doesn’t realize, but Exegesis delivers a well-sequenced smattering of thinking-man’s sludge brimming with potential. It’s not a spot to necessarily frequent, but it’s a spot that satisfies all the same.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Accident Prone Records
Websites: Instagram
Releases Worldwide: June 12th, 2026

Quite like its illustrious barbecue, North Carolina’s sludge offers a variety of flavors. Raleigh’s own COC serves the slow-smoked standard, Wilmington’s Weedeater plate a vinegary take on the subgenre, and even Asheville’s Bask season their heavy Americana with sludge. To stand out in this vibrant culinary scene, MAKE brand theirs as ‘thematic psychedelic noise-sludge.’ Formed in Raleigh in 2008 by Scott Endres (guitar, vocals) and Spencer Lee (bass, guitar, vocals), MAKE made waves in 2016 when they aligned with Accident Prone Records for their Pilgrimage of Loathing. Joining Endres and Lee for Exegesis at the End of Time, the band’s fourth full-length (and first in a decade), are drummer John Crouch and bassist/vocalist/synthesizer-ist Aaron Smithers.1 MAKE’s self-description suggests a whole-hog approach2 to extreme metal/rock, but branding is not execution—these ingredients must coalesce into a delicious, satisfying tray.

Exegesis at the End of Time amiably shares a table with formative noise-sludge outfits. Not just because their names rhyme, MAKE reminds me most of Rwake, insofar as a panoply of extreme vocal stylings—gutturals, anguished shrieks, shout-singing—dresses longish songs with a Southern flair (“The End of the Night”). The paradigmatic dynamism of Neurosis also makes appearances, with quiet, bass-driven incantations giving way to harsh punctuations of razor-wire riffing (“Forking Paths”). The frequent centrality of the bass also recalls Isis; MAKE similarly thrives when the low end establishes a melodic groove that opens the door to crushing dirges (“The Augur”). Though its production isn’t as thick n’ rich as I would like for a sludge record, Exegesis skillfully balances its ingredients, ensuring that riffs never get lost in the sauce.

Despite its branding, Exegesis at the End of Time doesn’t strike me as particularly ‘psychedelic.’ I think of psychedelic music as requiring acquiescence to agents of transcendence from below, so as to ascend to the noumenon. MAKE does make the effort to put listeners into a meditative headspace. “The End of the Night” opens the album with three minutes of rhythmless synth/guitar shimmering before a simple, bluesy bass line emerges. Mid-album track “Forking Path” and closer “The Augur” make similar moves: ritualistic bass sets a droning tone, an abrasive sludge-hammer responds. It is in moments like these that MAKE falters a bit as a purportedly ‘psychedelic’ act. The heavy responses frequently pulverize, but they don’t uplift to a new plane of existence. “Chimera,” one of the most straightforward songs on Exegesis, stands as something of an exception. Its chaotic ending, layering heavily-effected, high-register guitar noise over a stank-faced head-bobber, does induce a degree of transcendence.

On the ‘thematic’ side of its branding, Exegesis at the End of Time grows in enjoyment with knowledge of its lyrics, even as it feels thematically divided. In their promo materials, MAKE speaks of a singular ‘concept’: ‘[T]he order that rules our world represents a cosmic violence that will destroy us if we don’t conquer it.’3 The distorted, dissonant chords punctuating the chill spaciness of opener “The End of the Night” sonically establish earthly violence impinging upon a serene cosmos. But despite their singular concept, MAKE also outlines multiple literary influences: McCarthy, Pynchon, DeBord. The labyrinth adorning the cover suggests that “Forking Paths,” a song dramatizing the disorienting temporality of the Borgesian labyrinth, connects the album’s overarching concept to its particular literary allusions. As a retelling of “The Garden of Forking Paths,” though, the song removes [SPOILER ALERT] the climactic gunshot [END SPOILER ALERT]. In my deeper dive, the album felt like it forked between paths puzzling over possible futures (“The End of the Night”) and those explicating our destructive present (“Chimera,” “The Spectacle”). Still, the lyrics almost always enhance the tracks—the seemingly-endless tension chord in the middle of “The Augur,” for one, excellently captures Sisyphus futilely pushing the boulder up the hill.

More a conceptual record than a concept record, Exegesis at the End of Time nevertheless comprises a worthy tray. ‘Exegesis’ usually connotes long-windedness, but MAKE’s fourth album is relatively concise at 41 minutes, leaving me full but not overstuffed. It may imply a scope it doesn’t realize, but Exegesis delivers a well-sequenced smattering of thinking-man’s sludge brimming with potential. It’s not a spot to necessarily frequent, but it’s a spot that satisfies all the same.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Accident Prone Records
Websites: Instagram
Releases Worldwide: June 12th, 2026

Show 3 footnotes

1. Yes, the band seems to have two bassists. ↩
2. Eastern style FTW. ↩
3. Lyrically, the album doesn’t really focus on the ‘if we don’t conquer it’ part of that statement. MAKE offers, however, wise advice in their liner notes worth sharing: ‘Get involved with your local community and remember you are not alone.’ ↩

Quite like its illustrious barbecue, North Carolina’s sludge offers a variety of flavors. Raleigh’s own COC serves the slow-smoked standard, Wilmington’s Weedeater plate a vinegary take on the subgenre, and even Asheville’s Bask season their heavy Americana with sludge. To stand out in this vibrant culinary scene, MAKE brand theirs as ‘thematic psychedelic noise-sludge.’ Formed in Raleigh in 2008 by Scott Endres (guitar, vocals) and Spencer Lee (bass, guitar, vocals), MAKE made waves in 2016 when they aligned with Accident Prone Records for their Pilgrimage of Loathing. Joining Endres and Lee for Exegesis at the End of Time, the band’s fourth full-length (and first in a decade), are drummer John Crouch and bassist/vocalist/synthesizer-ist Aaron Smithers.1 MAKE’s self-description suggests a whole-hog approach2 to extreme metal/rock, but branding is not execution—these ingredients must coalesce into a delicious, satisfying tray.

Exegesis at the End of Time amiably shares a table with formative noise-sludge outfits. Not just because their names rhyme, MAKE reminds me most of Rwake, insofar as a panoply of extreme vocal stylings—gutturals, anguished shrieks, shout-singing—dresses longish songs with a Southern flair (“The End of the Night”). The paradigmatic dynamism of Neurosis also makes appearances, with quiet, bass-driven incantations giving way to harsh punctuations of razor-wire riffing (“Forking Paths”). The frequent centrality of the bass also recalls Isis; MAKE similarly thrives when the low end establishes a melodic groove that opens the door to crushing dirges (“The Augur”). Though its production isn’t as thick n’ rich as I would like for a sludge record, Exegesis skillfully balances its ingredients, ensuring that riffs never get lost in the sauce.

Despite its branding, Exegesis at the End of Time doesn’t strike me as particularly ‘psychedelic.’ I think of psychedelic music as requiring acquiescence to agents of transcendence from below, so as to ascend to the noumenon. MAKE does make the effort to put listeners into a meditative headspace. “The End of the Night” opens the album with three minutes of rhythmless synth/guitar shimmering before a simple, bluesy bass line emerges. Mid-album track “Forking Path” and closer “The Augur” make similar moves: ritualistic bass sets a droning tone, an abrasive sludge-hammer responds. It is in moments like these that MAKE falters a bit as a purportedly ‘psychedelic’ act. The heavy responses frequently pulverize, but they don’t uplift to a new plane of existence. “Chimera,” one of the most straightforward songs on Exegesis, stands as something of an exception. Its chaotic ending, layering heavily-effected, high-register guitar noise over a stank-faced head-bobber, does induce a degree of transcendence.

On the ‘thematic’ side of its branding, Exegesis at the End of Time grows in enjoyment with knowledge of its lyrics, even as it feels thematically divided. In their promo materials, MAKE speaks of a singular ‘concept’: ‘[T]he order that rules our world represents a cosmic violence that will destroy us if we don’t conquer it.’3 The distorted, dissonant chords punctuating the chill spaciness of opener “The End of the Night” sonically establish earthly violence impinging upon a serene cosmos. But despite their singular concept, MAKE also outlines multiple literary influences: McCarthy, Pynchon, DeBord. The labyrinth adorning the cover suggests that “Forking Paths,” a song dramatizing the disorienting temporality of the Borgesian labyrinth, connects the album’s overarching concept to its particular literary allusions. As a retelling of “The Garden of Forking Paths,” though, the song removes [SPOILER ALERT] the climactic gunshot [END SPOILER ALERT]. In my deeper dive, the album felt like it forked between paths puzzling over possible futures (“The End of the Night”) and those explicating our destructive present (“Chimera,” “The Spectacle”). Still, the lyrics almost always enhance the tracks—the seemingly-endless tension chord in the middle of “The Augur,” for one, excellently captures Sisyphus futilely pushing the boulder up the hill.

More a conceptual record than a concept record, Exegesis at the End of Time nevertheless comprises a worthy tray. ‘Exegesis’ usually connotes long-windedness, but MAKE’s fourth album is relatively concise at 41 minutes, leaving me full but not overstuffed. It may imply a scope it doesn’t realize, but Exegesis delivers a well-sequenced smattering of thinking-man’s sludge brimming with potential. It’s not a spot to necessarily frequent, but it’s a spot that satisfies all the same.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Accident Prone Records
Websites: Instagram
Releases Worldwide: June 12th, 2026

Quite like its illustrious barbecue, North Carolina’s sludge offers a variety of flavors. Raleigh’s own COC serves the slow-smoked standard, Wilmington’s Weedeater plate a vinegary take on the subgenre, and even Asheville’s Bask season their heavy Americana with sludge. To stand out in this vibrant culinary scene, MAKE brand theirs as ‘thematic psychedelic noise-sludge.’ Formed in Raleigh in 2008 by Scott Endres (guitar, vocals) and Spencer Lee (bass, guitar, vocals), MAKE made waves in 2016 when they aligned with Accident Prone Records for their Pilgrimage of Loathing. Joining Endres and Lee for Exegesis at the End of Time, the band’s fourth full-length (and first in a decade), are drummer John Crouch and bassist/vocalist/synthesizer-ist Aaron Smithers.1 MAKE’s self-description suggests a whole-hog approach2 to extreme metal/rock, but branding is not execution—these ingredients must coalesce into a delicious, satisfying tray.

Exegesis at the End of Time amiably shares a table with formative noise-sludge outfits. Not just because their names rhyme, MAKE reminds me most of Rwake, insofar as a panoply of extreme vocal stylings—gutturals, anguished shrieks, shout-singing—dresses longish songs with a Southern flair (“The End of the Night”). The paradigmatic dynamism of Neurosis also makes appearances, with quiet, bass-driven incantations giving way to harsh punctuations of razor-wire riffing (“Forking Paths”). The frequent centrality of the bass also recalls Isis; MAKE similarly thrives when the low end establishes a melodic groove that opens the door to crushing dirges (“The Augur”). Though its production isn’t as thick n’ rich as I would like for a sludge record, Exegesis skillfully balances its ingredients, ensuring that riffs never get lost in the sauce.

Despite its branding, Exegesis at the End of Time doesn’t strike me as particularly ‘psychedelic.’ I think of psychedelic music as requiring acquiescence to agents of transcendence from below, so as to ascend to the noumenon. MAKE does make the effort to put listeners into a meditative headspace. “The End of the Night” opens the album with three minutes of rhythmless synth/guitar shimmering before a simple, bluesy bass line emerges. Mid-album track “Forking Path” and closer “The Augur” make similar moves: ritualistic bass sets a droning tone, an abrasive sludge-hammer responds. It is in moments like these that MAKE falters a bit as a purportedly ‘psychedelic’ act. The heavy responses frequently pulverize, but they don’t uplift to a new plane of existence. “Chimera,” one of the most straightforward songs on Exegesis, stands as something of an exception. Its chaotic ending, layering heavily-effected, high-register guitar noise over a stank-faced head-bobber, does induce a degree of transcendence.

On the ‘thematic’ side of its branding, Exegesis at the End of Time grows in enjoyment with knowledge of its lyrics, even as it feels thematically divided. In their promo materials, MAKE speaks of a singular ‘concept’: ‘[T]he order that rules our world represents a cosmic violence that will destroy us if we don’t conquer it.’3 The distorted, dissonant chords punctuating the chill spaciness of opener “The End of the Night” sonically establish earthly violence impinging upon a serene cosmos. But despite their singular concept, MAKE also outlines multiple literary influences: McCarthy, Pynchon, DeBord. The labyrinth adorning the cover suggests that “Forking Paths,” a song dramatizing the disorienting temporality of the Borgesian labyrinth, connects the album’s overarching concept to its particular literary allusions. As a retelling of “The Garden of Forking Paths,” though, the song removes [SPOILER ALERT] the climactic gunshot [END SPOILER ALERT]. In my deeper dive, the album felt like it forked between paths puzzling over possible futures (“The End of the Night”) and those explicating our destructive present (“Chimera,” “The Spectacle”). Still, the lyrics almost always enhance the tracks—the seemingly-endless tension chord in the middle of “The Augur,” for one, excellently captures Sisyphus futilely pushing the boulder up the hill.

More a conceptual record than a concept record, Exegesis at the End of Time nevertheless comprises a worthy tray. ‘Exegesis’ usually connotes long-windedness, but MAKE’s fourth album is relatively concise at 41 minutes, leaving me full but not overstuffed. It may imply a scope it doesn’t realize, but Exegesis delivers a well-sequenced smattering of thinking-man’s sludge brimming with potential. It’s not a spot to necessarily frequent, but it’s a spot that satisfies all the same.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Accident Prone Records
Websites: Instagram
Releases Worldwide: June 12th, 2026

Quite like its illustrious barbecue, North Carolina’s sludge offers a variety of flavors. Raleigh’s own COC serves the slow-smoked standard, Wilmington’s Weedeater plate a vinegary take on the subgenre, and even Asheville’s Bask season their heavy Americana with sludge. To stand out in this vibrant culinary scene, MAKE brand theirs as ‘thematic psychedelic noise-sludge.’ Formed in Raleigh in 2008 by Scott Endres (guitar, vocals) and Spencer Lee (bass, guitar, vocals), MAKE made waves in 2016 when they aligned with Accident Prone Records for their Pilgrimage of Loathing. Joining Endres and Lee for Exegesis at the End of Time, the band’s fourth full-length (and first in a decade), are drummer John Crouch and bassist/vocalist/synthesizer-ist Aaron Smithers.1 MAKE’s self-description suggests a whole-hog approach2 to extreme metal/rock, but branding is not execution—these ingredients must coalesce into a delicious, satisfying tray.

Exegesis at the End of Time amiably shares a table with formative noise-sludge outfits. Not just because their names rhyme, MAKE reminds me most of Rwake, insofar as a panoply of extreme vocal stylings—gutturals, anguished shrieks, shout-singing—dresses longish songs with a Southern flair (“The End of the Night”). The paradigmatic dynamism of Neurosis also makes appearances, with quiet, bass-driven incantations giving way to harsh punctuations of razor-wire riffing (“Forking Paths”). The frequent centrality of the bass also recalls Isis; MAKE similarly thrives when the low end establishes a melodic groove that opens the door to crushing dirges (“The Augur”). Though its production isn’t as thick n’ rich as I would like for a sludge record, Exegesis skillfully balances its ingredients, ensuring that riffs never get lost in the sauce.

Despite its branding, Exegesis at the End of Time doesn’t strike me as particularly ‘psychedelic.’ I think of psychedelic music as requiring acquiescence to agents of transcendence from below, so as to ascend to the noumenon. MAKE does make the effort to put listeners into a meditative headspace. “The End of the Night” opens the album with three minutes of rhythmless synth/guitar shimmering before a simple, bluesy bass line emerges. Mid-album track “Forking Path” and closer “The Augur” make similar moves: ritualistic bass sets a droning tone, an abrasive sludge-hammer responds. It is in moments like these that MAKE falters a bit as a purportedly ‘psychedelic’ act. The heavy responses frequently pulverize, but they don’t uplift to a new plane of existence. “Chimera,” one of the most straightforward songs on Exegesis, stands as something of an exception. Its chaotic ending, layering heavily-effected, high-register guitar noise over a stank-faced head-bobber, does induce a degree of transcendence.

On the ‘thematic’ side of its branding, Exegesis at the End of Time grows in enjoyment with knowledge of its lyrics, even as it feels thematically divided. In their promo materials, MAKE speaks of a singular ‘concept’: ‘[T]he order that rules our world represents a cosmic violence that will destroy us if we don’t conquer it.’3 The distorted, dissonant chords punctuating the chill spaciness of opener “The End of the Night” sonically establish earthly violence impinging upon a serene cosmos. But despite their singular concept, MAKE also outlines multiple literary influences: McCarthy, Pynchon, DeBord. The labyrinth adorning the cover suggests that “Forking Paths,” a song dramatizing the disorienting temporality of the Borgesian labyrinth, connects the album’s overarching concept to its particular literary allusions. As a retelling of “The Garden of Forking Paths,” though, the song removes [SPOILER ALERT] the climactic gunshot [END SPOILER ALERT]. In my deeper dive, the album felt like it forked between paths puzzling over possible futures (“The End of the Night”) and those explicating our destructive present (“Chimera,” “The Spectacle”). Still, the lyrics almost always enhance the tracks—the seemingly-endless tension chord in the middle of “The Augur,” for one, excellently captures Sisyphus futilely pushing the boulder up the hill.

More a conceptual record than a concept record, Exegesis at the End of Time nevertheless comprises a worthy tray. ‘Exegesis’ usually connotes long-windedness, but MAKE’s fourth album is relatively concise at 41 minutes, leaving me full but not overstuffed. It may imply a scope it doesn’t realize, but Exegesis delivers a well-sequenced smattering of thinking-man’s sludge brimming with potential. It’s not a spot to necessarily frequent, but it’s a spot that satisfies all the same.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Accident Prone Records
Websites: Instagram
Releases Worldwide: June 12th, 2026

Gozu – Gozu VI Review

In my continuing exploration of Boston bands, the promo pit exhaled the latest from a stoner stalwart. Gozu…
#NewsBeep #News #Music #2026 #3.0 #BlacklightMediaRecords #CA #Canada #clutch #CorrosionofConformity #Entertainment #Gozu #GozuVI #May26 #MetalBladeRecords #Motörhead #review #reviews #Soundgarden #StoneTemplePilots #StonerMetal #StonerRock #USMetal
https://www.newsbeep.com/ca/713259/

In my continuing exploration of Boston bands, the promo pit exhaled the latest from a stoner stalwart. Gozu have been dispensing their hybrid strain of stoner rock/metal since 2007, with riffmeisters Marc Gaffney (vocals, guitar) and Doug Sherman (lead guitar) serving as the only consistent members. Current bassist Joseph Grotto joined Gozu for Revival (2016), and Seth Botos began helming the drums on Remedy (2023), the band’s most recent output. Since their move to Metal Blade Records for Equilibrium (2018), Gozu have increasingly poppified their sound as Gaffney grows into a more versatile vocalist. Still, these Boston veterans haven’t abandoned their identity; catchy choruses sweeten a familiar beanpot of droney riffs. Also intact is their tongue-in-cheek humor; this is a band that named a song “Charles Bronson Pinchot” in 2012 and another “Tom Cruise Control” in 2023. As the first Gozu album to be covered on AMG, Gozu VI will achieve ‘wicked pissah’ status by continuing the band’s trend of refining their sound while maintaining their signature charm.

On the stoner continuum, Gozu veers closer to rock than metal while straddling the line. Indeed, this Boston quartet pack Clutch’s shuffling grooves (“Corinthian Leatherface”), Corrosion of Conformity’s bluesy dirges (“Midnight Express”), and Motörhead’s straight-ahead speed (“Banacek”) into their musical chamber. Gaffney and Sherman’s simple yet satisfying riffs hit listeners by way of production as warm and fuzzy as a Bay State bruin. Sometimes, the riffing is just as ferocious. On the excellently titled (and almost certainly referential) “Gimme the Lute,” fretboard gymnastics mingle with driving chugs and soupy sludge that feels more metallic than geological. Though new to the Gozu crew, Grotto and Botos form a serviceable rhythm section that doesn’t necessarily shine, but that understands the assignment: let the riffs (and vocals) pop. Avoiding the monotony of stoner metal and the banality of stoner rock, Gozu VI strikes a salutary balance.

In his role as vocalist, Gaffney elevates Gozu by displaying a varied arsenal of skills. His voice recalls Neil Fallon of Clutch but with a grunge coloring that’s more nose than chin (think Weiland, not Vedder). Gaffney’s choruses shift between nimble croons suiting the livelier tracks (“Corinthian Leatherface”) and diaphragm-ed belts fitting the doomier cuts (“Midnight Express”). Throughout the album, he tucks falsetto harmonies into his main lines, blending major and minor tonality in a manner akin to Soundgarden and Stone Temple Pilots. ”Corner Lariat” stands as Gaffney’s most ambitious and arresting performance, threading tender verses through a big, wistful chorus, broaching power ballad territory. Not every verse and chorus on Gozu VI knocks it out of Fenway, but enough do to give Gozu a pure listenability that most stoner acts do not possess.

At 8 tracks in 46 minutes, Gozu VI mostly delivers a cohesive album experience. “Corinthian Leatherface” gets this Boston Tea Party started strong, effortlessly tossing energetic riffs and sugary hooks off the side of the Stoner Ship in a rebellious yet controlled demonstration.1 From there, the album intermittently slows down, culminating with the pensive power of “Corner Lariat.” This is a solid run of tracks, though “Killer Khan” comes off as a bit redundant (and has some ham-fisted profanities). “Banacek” picks the pace back up, adding a unique freneticism to the album via interplay between Gaffney’s chunky power chords and Sherman’s wild shredding. Closing out the album is a scattershot three-track run. “Gimme the Lute” doles out some of the finest riffwork on Gozu VI, but “They Did Know Karate”2 suffers from bloat, while closer “Corvette Summer” anticlimactically fades out.

Gozu VI is, undoubtedly, a pissah. Gaffney, Sherman, and crew are pros who know how to produce high-quality jams built around strong riffs and vocal hooks. Stoner rock/metal proves a challenging paradigm within which to produce truly standout material, but Gozu come as close as I could imagine with their sixth LP. There’s nothing really innovative about Gozu VI, but there’s also nothing terribly wrong with it, and a lot to enjoy. While I hesitate to qualify their latest offering as ‘wicked,’ I don’t at all hesitate to recommend Gozu VI to anyone looking for a familiar, fun time.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Metal Blade Records | Blacklight Media Records
Websites: Official | Bandcamp | Facebook | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: May 15th, 2026

In my continuing exploration of Boston bands, the promo pit exhaled the latest from a stoner stalwart. Gozu have been dispensing their hybrid strain of stoner rock/metal since 2007, with riffmeisters Marc Gaffney (vocals, guitar) and Doug Sherman (lead guitar) serving as the only consistent members. Current bassist Joseph Grotto joined Gozu for Revival (2016), and Seth Botos began helming the drums on Remedy (2023), the band’s most recent output. Since their move to Metal Blade Records for Equilibrium (2018), Gozu have increasingly poppified their sound as Gaffney grows into a more versatile vocalist. Still, these Boston veterans haven’t abandoned their identity; catchy choruses sweeten a familiar beanpot of droney riffs. Also intact is their tongue-in-cheek humor; this is a band that named a song “Charles Bronson Pinchot” in 2012 and another “Tom Cruise Control” in 2023. As the first Gozu album to be covered on AMG, Gozu VI will achieve ‘wicked pissah’ status by continuing the band’s trend of refining their sound while maintaining their signature charm.

On the stoner continuum, Gozu veers closer to rock than metal while straddling the line. Indeed, this Boston quartet pack Clutch’s shuffling grooves (“Corinthian Leatherface”), Corrosion of Conformity’s bluesy dirges (“Midnight Express”), and Motörhead’s straight-ahead speed (“Banacek”) into their musical chamber. Gaffney and Sherman’s simple yet satisfying riffs hit listeners by way of production as warm and fuzzy as a Bay State bruin. Sometimes, the riffing is just as ferocious. On the excellently titled (and almost certainly referential) “Gimme the Lute,” fretboard gymnastics mingle with driving chugs and soupy sludge that feels more metallic than geological. Though new to the Gozu crew, Grotto and Botos form a serviceable rhythm section that doesn’t necessarily shine, but that understands the assignment: let the riffs (and vocals) pop. Avoiding the monotony of stoner metal and the banality of stoner rock, Gozu VI strikes a salutary balance.

In his role as vocalist, Gaffney elevates Gozu by displaying a varied arsenal of skills. His voice recalls Neil Fallon of Clutch but with a grunge coloring that’s more nose than chin (think Weiland, not Vedder). Gaffney’s choruses shift between nimble croons suiting the livelier tracks (“Corinthian Leatherface”) and diaphragm-ed belts fitting the doomier cuts (“Midnight Express”). Throughout the album, he tucks falsetto harmonies into his main lines, blending major and minor tonality in a manner akin to Soundgarden and Stone Temple Pilots. ”Corner Lariat” stands as Gaffney’s most ambitious and arresting performance, threading tender verses through a big, wistful chorus, broaching power ballad territory. Not every verse and chorus on Gozu VI knocks it out of Fenway, but enough do to give Gozu a pure listenability that most stoner acts do not possess.

At 8 tracks in 46 minutes, Gozu VI mostly delivers a cohesive album experience. “Corinthian Leatherface” gets this Boston Tea Party started strong, effortlessly tossing energetic riffs and sugary hooks off the side of the Stoner Ship in a rebellious yet controlled demonstration.1 From there, the album intermittently slows down, culminating with the pensive power of “Corner Lariat.” This is a solid run of tracks, though “Killer Khan” comes off as a bit redundant (and has some ham-fisted profanities). “Banacek” picks the pace back up, adding a unique freneticism to the album via interplay between Gaffney’s chunky power chords and Sherman’s wild shredding. Closing out the album is a scattershot three-track run. “Gimme the Lute” doles out some of the finest riffwork on Gozu VI, but “They Did Know Karate”2 suffers from bloat, while closer “Corvette Summer” anticlimactically fades out.

Gozu VI is, undoubtedly, a pissah. Gaffney, Sherman, and crew are pros who know how to produce high-quality jams built around strong riffs and vocal hooks. Stoner rock/metal proves a challenging paradigm within which to produce truly standout material, but Gozu come as close as I could imagine with their sixth LP. There’s nothing really innovative about Gozu VI, but there’s also nothing terribly wrong with it, and a lot to enjoy. While I hesitate to qualify their latest offering as ‘wicked,’ I don’t at all hesitate to recommend Gozu VI to anyone looking for a familiar, fun time.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Metal Blade Records | Blacklight Media Records
Websites: Official | Bandcamp | Facebook | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: May 15th, 2026

In my continuing exploration of Boston bands, the promo pit exhaled the latest from a stoner stalwart. Gozu have been dispensing their hybrid strain of stoner rock/metal since 2007, with riffmeisters Marc Gaffney (vocals, guitar) and Doug Sherman (lead guitar) serving as the only consistent members. Current bassist Joseph Grotto joined Gozu for Revival (2016), and Seth Botos began helming the drums on Remedy (2023), the band’s most recent output. Since their move to Metal Blade Records for Equilibrium (2018), Gozu have increasingly poppified their sound as Gaffney grows into a more versatile vocalist. Still, these Boston veterans haven’t abandoned their identity; catchy choruses sweeten a familiar beanpot of droney riffs. Also intact is their tongue-in-cheek humor; this is a band that named a song “Charles Bronson Pinchot” in 2012 and another “Tom Cruise Control” in 2023. As the first Gozu album to be covered on AMG, Gozu VI will achieve ‘wicked pissah’ status by continuing the band’s trend of refining their sound while maintaining their signature charm.

On the stoner continuum, Gozu veers closer to rock than metal while straddling the line. Indeed, this Boston quartet pack Clutch’s shuffling grooves (“Corinthian Leatherface”), Corrosion of Conformity’s bluesy dirges (“Midnight Express”), and Motörhead’s straight-ahead speed (“Banacek”) into their musical chamber. Gaffney and Sherman’s simple yet satisfying riffs hit listeners by way of production as warm and fuzzy as a Bay State bruin. Sometimes, the riffing is just as ferocious. On the excellently titled (and almost certainly referential) “Gimme the Lute,” fretboard gymnastics mingle with driving chugs and soupy sludge that feels more metallic than geological. Though new to the Gozu crew, Grotto and Botos form a serviceable rhythm section that doesn’t necessarily shine, but that understands the assignment: let the riffs (and vocals) pop. Avoiding the monotony of stoner metal and the banality of stoner rock, Gozu VI strikes a salutary balance.

In his role as vocalist, Gaffney elevates Gozu by displaying a varied arsenal of skills. His voice recalls Neil Fallon of Clutch but with a grunge coloring that’s more nose than chin (think Weiland, not Vedder). Gaffney’s choruses shift between nimble croons suiting the livelier tracks (“Corinthian Leatherface”) and diaphragm-ed belts fitting the doomier cuts (“Midnight Express”). Throughout the album, he tucks falsetto harmonies into his main lines, blending major and minor tonality in a manner akin to Soundgarden and Stone Temple Pilots. ”Corner Lariat” stands as Gaffney’s most ambitious and arresting performance, threading tender verses through a big, wistful chorus, broaching power ballad territory. Not every verse and chorus on Gozu VI knocks it out of Fenway, but enough do to give Gozu a pure listenability that most stoner acts do not possess.

At 8 tracks in 46 minutes, Gozu VI mostly delivers a cohesive album experience. “Corinthian Leatherface” gets this Boston Tea Party started strong, effortlessly tossing energetic riffs and sugary hooks off the side of the Stoner Ship in a rebellious yet controlled demonstration.1 From there, the album intermittently slows down, culminating with the pensive power of “Corner Lariat.” This is a solid run of tracks, though “Killer Khan” comes off as a bit redundant (and has some ham-fisted profanities). “Banacek” picks the pace back up, adding a unique freneticism to the album via interplay between Gaffney’s chunky power chords and Sherman’s wild shredding. Closing out the album is a scattershot three-track run. “Gimme the Lute” doles out some of the finest riffwork on Gozu VI, but “They Did Know Karate”2 suffers from bloat, while closer “Corvette Summer” anticlimactically fades out.

Gozu VI is, undoubtedly, a pissah. Gaffney, Sherman, and crew are pros who know how to produce high-quality jams built around strong riffs and vocal hooks. Stoner rock/metal proves a challenging paradigm within which to produce truly standout material, but Gozu come as close as I could imagine with their sixth LP. There’s nothing really innovative about Gozu VI, but there’s also nothing terribly wrong with it, and a lot to enjoy. While I hesitate to qualify their latest offering as ‘wicked,’ I don’t at all hesitate to recommend Gozu VI to anyone looking for a familiar, fun time.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Metal Blade Records | Blacklight Media Records
Websites: Official | Bandcamp | Facebook | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: May 15th, 2026

In my continuing exploration of Boston bands, the promo pit exhaled the latest from a stoner stalwart. Gozu have been dispensing their hybrid strain of stoner rock/metal since 2007, with riffmeisters Marc Gaffney (vocals, guitar) and Doug Sherman (lead guitar) serving as the only consistent members. Current bassist Joseph Grotto joined Gozu for Revival (2016), and Seth Botos began helming the drums on Remedy (2023), the band’s most recent output. Since their move to Metal Blade Records for Equilibrium (2018), Gozu have increasingly poppified their sound as Gaffney grows into a more versatile vocalist. Still, these Boston veterans haven’t abandoned their identity; catchy choruses sweeten a familiar beanpot of droney riffs. Also intact is their tongue-in-cheek humor; this is a band that named a song “Charles Bronson Pinchot” in 2012 and another “Tom Cruise Control” in 2023. As the first Gozu album to be covered on AMG, Gozu VI will achieve ‘wicked pissah’ status by continuing the band’s trend of refining their sound while maintaining their signature charm.

On the stoner continuum, Gozu veers closer to rock than metal while straddling the line. Indeed, this Boston quartet pack Clutch’s shuffling grooves (“Corinthian Leatherface”), Corrosion of Conformity’s bluesy dirges (“Midnight Express”), and Motörhead’s straight-ahead speed (“Banacek”) into their musical chamber. Gaffney and Sherman’s simple yet satisfying riffs hit listeners by way of production as warm and fuzzy as a Bay State bruin. Sometimes, the riffing is just as ferocious. On the excellently titled (and almost certainly referential) “Gimme the Lute,” fretboard gymnastics mingle with driving chugs and soupy sludge that feels more metallic than geological. Though new to the Gozu crew, Grotto and Botos form a serviceable rhythm section that doesn’t necessarily shine, but that understands the assignment: let the riffs (and vocals) pop. Avoiding the monotony of stoner metal and the banality of stoner rock, Gozu VI strikes a salutary balance.

In his role as vocalist, Gaffney elevates Gozu by displaying a varied arsenal of skills. His voice recalls Neil Fallon of Clutch but with a grunge coloring that’s more nose than chin (think Weiland, not Vedder). Gaffney’s choruses shift between nimble croons suiting the livelier tracks (“Corinthian Leatherface”) and diaphragm-ed belts fitting the doomier cuts (“Midnight Express”). Throughout the album, he tucks falsetto harmonies into his main lines, blending major and minor tonality in a manner akin to Soundgarden and Stone Temple Pilots. ”Corner Lariat” stands as Gaffney’s most ambitious and arresting performance, threading tender verses through a big, wistful chorus, broaching power ballad territory. Not every verse and chorus on Gozu VI knocks it out of Fenway, but enough do to give Gozu a pure listenability that most stoner acts do not possess.

At 8 tracks in 46 minutes, Gozu VI mostly delivers a cohesive album experience. “Corinthian Leatherface” gets this Boston Tea Party started strong, effortlessly tossing energetic riffs and sugary hooks off the side of the Stoner Ship in a rebellious yet controlled demonstration.1 From there, the album intermittently slows down, culminating with the pensive power of “Corner Lariat.” This is a solid run of tracks, though “Killer Khan” comes off as a bit redundant (and has some ham-fisted profanities). “Banacek” picks the pace back up, adding a unique freneticism to the album via interplay between Gaffney’s chunky power chords and Sherman’s wild shredding. Closing out the album is a scattershot three-track run. “Gimme the Lute” doles out some of the finest riffwork on Gozu VI, but “They Did Know Karate”2 suffers from bloat, while closer “Corvette Summer” anticlimactically fades out.

Gozu VI is, undoubtedly, a pissah. Gaffney, Sherman, and crew are pros who know how to produce high-quality jams built around strong riffs and vocal hooks. Stoner rock/metal proves a challenging paradigm within which to produce truly standout material, but Gozu come as close as I could imagine with their sixth LP. There’s nothing really innovative about Gozu VI, but there’s also nothing terribly wrong with it, and a lot to enjoy. While I hesitate to qualify their latest offering as ‘wicked,’ I don’t at all hesitate to recommend Gozu VI to anyone looking for a familiar, fun time.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Metal Blade Records | Blacklight Media Records
Websites: Official | Bandcamp | Facebook | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: May 15th, 2026

In my continuing exploration of Boston bands, the promo pit exhaled the latest from a stoner stalwart. Gozu have been dispensing their hybrid strain of stoner rock/metal since 2007, with riffmeisters Marc Gaffney (vocals, guitar) and Doug Sherman (lead guitar) serving as the only consistent members. Current bassist Joseph Grotto joined Gozu for Revival (2016), and Seth Botos began helming the drums on Remedy (2023), the band’s most recent output. Since their move to Metal Blade Records for Equilibrium (2018), Gozu have increasingly poppified their sound as Gaffney grows into a more versatile vocalist. Still, these Boston veterans haven’t abandoned their identity; catchy choruses sweeten a familiar beanpot of droney riffs. Also intact is their tongue-in-cheek humor; this is a band that named a song “Charles Bronson Pinchot” in 2012 and another “Tom Cruise Control” in 2023. As the first Gozu album to be covered on AMG, Gozu VI will achieve ‘wicked pissah’ status by continuing the band’s trend of refining their sound while maintaining their signature charm.

On the stoner continuum, Gozu veers closer to rock than metal while straddling the line. Indeed, this Boston quartet pack Clutch’s shuffling grooves (“Corinthian Leatherface”), Corrosion of Conformity’s bluesy dirges (“Midnight Express”), and Motörhead’s straight-ahead speed (“Banacek”) into their musical chamber. Gaffney and Sherman’s simple yet satisfying riffs hit listeners by way of production as warm and fuzzy as a Bay State bruin. Sometimes, the riffing is just as ferocious. On the excellently titled (and almost certainly referential) “Gimme the Lute,” fretboard gymnastics mingle with driving chugs and soupy sludge that feels more metallic than geological. Though new to the Gozu crew, Grotto and Botos form a serviceable rhythm section that doesn’t necessarily shine, but that understands the assignment: let the riffs (and vocals) pop. Avoiding the monotony of stoner metal and the banality of stoner rock, Gozu VI strikes a salutary balance.

In his role as vocalist, Gaffney elevates Gozu by displaying a varied arsenal of skills. His voice recalls Neil Fallon of Clutch but with a grunge coloring that’s more nose than chin (think Weiland, not Vedder). Gaffney’s choruses shift between nimble croons suiting the livelier tracks (“Corinthian Leatherface”) and diaphragm-ed belts fitting the doomier cuts (“Midnight Express”). Throughout the album, he tucks falsetto harmonies into his main lines, blending major and minor tonality in a manner akin to Soundgarden and Stone Temple Pilots. ”Corner Lariat” stands as Gaffney’s most ambitious and arresting performance, threading tender verses through a big, wistful chorus, broaching power ballad territory. Not every verse and chorus on Gozu VI knocks it out of Fenway, but enough do to give Gozu a pure listenability that most stoner acts do not possess.

At 8 tracks in 46 minutes, Gozu VI mostly delivers a cohesive album experience. “Corinthian Leatherface” gets this Boston Tea Party started strong, effortlessly tossing energetic riffs and sugary hooks off the side of the Stoner Ship in a rebellious yet controlled demonstration.1 From there, the album intermittently slows down, culminating with the pensive power of “Corner Lariat.” This is a solid run of tracks, though “Killer Khan” comes off as a bit redundant (and has some ham-fisted profanities). “Banacek” picks the pace back up, adding a unique freneticism to the album via interplay between Gaffney’s chunky power chords and Sherman’s wild shredding. Closing out the album is a scattershot three-track run. “Gimme the Lute” doles out some of the finest riffwork on Gozu VI, but “They Did Know Karate”2 suffers from bloat, while closer “Corvette Summer” anticlimactically fades out.

Gozu VI is, undoubtedly, a pissah. Gaffney, Sherman, and crew are pros who know how to produce high-quality jams built around strong riffs and vocal hooks. Stoner rock/metal proves a challenging paradigm within which to produce truly standout material, but Gozu come as close as I could imagine with their sixth LP. There’s nothing really innovative about Gozu VI, but there’s also nothing terribly wrong with it, and a lot to enjoy. While I hesitate to qualify their latest offering as ‘wicked,’ I don’t at all hesitate to recommend Gozu VI to anyone looking for a familiar, fun time.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Metal Blade Records | Blacklight Media Records
Websites: Official | Bandcamp | Facebook | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: May 15th, 2026

Seeking revenge for her son’s death, Grendel’s mother thrusts her sword at Beowulf. ‘Him on eaxle læg / breostnet broden,’ the Beowulf poet pens,1 ‘þæt gebearh feore, / wið ord ond wið ecge ingang forstod.’ For those unfluent in Old English: Beowulf’s chainmail saved his life, withstanding both the edge and ‘ord’ (tip/spear) of the vengeful matriarch’s sword. From this archaic term for the spear of a sword, Ordh derives its appellation, which may suggest to readers an Anglo-Saxon-themed war metal outfit. That (killer) Paolo Girardi artwork, however, screams cosmic-prog death,2 with Blind in Abyssal Realms being the Vermont quartet’s first full-length lunge at the metal community. Ordh will need to be sharper than the sword of Grendel’s mother, though, for the generic chainmail of progressive death metal is more tightly braided than that adorned by the King of the Geats.3

The cosmic-prog death of Blind in Abyssal Realms claims roots in an earthier subgenre. After the dissolution of progressive sludgers Barishi, guitarist Graham Brooks joined forces with vocalist Jonathan Hébert of sludge-doomers Come to Grief to form a new band. In shifting from the slurry of sludge to the heft of death metal while retaining progressive and doom elements, Ordh ends up sounding like an atmospheric Mortiferum. Brooks’s riffs, whether on low or high strings, always possess grandeur, and his solos splotch like Jackson Pollock splashing paint across a canvas. Brooks also engineered the album’s synths, which are noticeable but never overpower the guitarwork. Hébert’s gutturals keep things terrestrial, hollering at the heavens from his earth-bound cave. Joining Brooks and Hébert are rhythm section Josh Smith (bass) and Dylan Blake (drums, ex-Barishi). Blake especially shines, mixing typical death-metal pounding with jazzy roving and glorious rototom runs. Given Ordh’s previous experience in sludge, it’s impressive how sharp their first attempt at cosmic-prog death is, standing toe to toe with the likes of Cosmic Putrefaction and Blood Incantation.

Blind in Abyssal Realms by Ordh

What makes Blind in Abyssal Realms cut deep is its balancing of atmosphere with instantly memorable riffs. Opener “Apis Bull” perfectly demonstrates this dichotomy; its big, bendy Oldpeth figure alternates with a spacey, higher-register version of itself before exploring new terrain. Similarly, “Moon of Urd” rises with a delightfully demented earworm that reveals a lush blanket of pure psych twilight. “Phlegraean Fields,” the most adventurous song on here, builds an ever-morphing, synth-laden melody, capturing a stranger surveying a mythical landscape with terror-tinged curiosity.4 Right out the gate, Ordh understands that the ‘cosmic’ in ‘cosmic-prog death’ should not be cosmetic. Indeed, the synths support consistently superb riffs on this debut, imbuing them with enriching depth.

Some aspects of Blind in Abyssal Realms dull its attack. Production-wise, the record sounds good but lacks a bit of low end. The caveman parts don’t hit as hard as they should; Blake’s kick drum could use more oomph, and Smith’s bass is frequently hard to detect in anything other than clean sections. Concerning the album’s pacing, the last two tracks don’t quite measure up to the ascending quality of the opening trio. “Blind in Abyssal Realms” is a strong song that, at over 12 minutes, could use editing. “Hierothesion” refreshingly closes out the record as its most straightforward pummeler, but similarly, some concision would amplify its effect. And as for originality, Ordh mostly sounds like itself, though occasionally, combinations of blast beats, dive bombs, and ‘aaaghs!’ are a bit too on the Blood Incantation nose.

Nitpicks aside, Ordh drives home its point with Blind in Abyssal Realms. This is an impressive debut that makes a mark on progressive death metal. Comprised of five tracks at just under 45 minutes, Blind in Abyssal Realms advances as a filler-free affair, trading violent slashes with chilled-out parries in a manner inviting repeat engagements. Fans of the genre should definitely spar with this sonic sword. Swīðe gōd weorc, Ordh!

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Pulverised Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Instagram | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: April 17th, 2026

Seeking revenge for her son’s death, Grendel’s mother thrusts her sword at Beowulf. ‘Him on eaxle læg / breostnet broden,’ the Beowulf poet pens,1 ‘þæt gebearh feore, / wið ord ond wið ecge ingang forstod.’ For those unfluent in Old English: Beowulf’s chainmail saved his life, withstanding both the edge and ‘ord’ (tip/spear) of the vengeful matriarch’s sword. From this archaic term for the spear of a sword, Ordh derives its appellation, which may suggest to readers an Anglo-Saxon-themed war metal outfit. That (killer) Paolo Girardi artwork, however, screams cosmic-prog death,2 with Blind in Abyssal Realms being the Vermont quartet’s first full-length lunge at the metal community. Ordh will need to be sharper than the sword of Grendel’s mother, though, for the generic chainmail of progressive death metal is more tightly braided than that adorned by the King of the Geats.3

The cosmic-prog death of Blind in Abyssal Realms claims roots in an earthier subgenre. After the dissolution of progressive sludgers Barishi, guitarist Graham Brooks joined forces with vocalist Jonathan Hébert of sludge-doomers Come to Grief to form a new band. In shifting from the slurry of sludge to the heft of death metal while retaining progressive and doom elements, Ordh ends up sounding like an atmospheric Mortiferum. Brooks’s riffs, whether on low or high strings, always possess grandeur, and his solos splotch like Jackson Pollock splashing paint across a canvas. Brooks also engineered the album’s synths, which are noticeable but never overpower the guitarwork. Hébert’s gutturals keep things terrestrial, hollering at the heavens from his earth-bound cave. Joining Brooks and Hébert are rhythm section Josh Smith (bass) and Dylan Blake (drums, ex-Barishi). Blake especially shines, mixing typical death-metal pounding with jazzy roving and glorious rototom runs. Given Ordh’s previous experience in sludge, it’s impressive how sharp their first attempt at cosmic-prog death is, standing toe to toe with the likes of Cosmic Putrefaction and Blood Incantation.

Blind in Abyssal Realms by Ordh

What makes Blind in Abyssal Realms cut deep is its balancing of atmosphere with instantly memorable riffs. Opener “Apis Bull” perfectly demonstrates this dichotomy; its big, bendy Oldpeth figure alternates with a spacey, higher-register version of itself before exploring new terrain. Similarly, “Moon of Urd” rises with a delightfully demented earworm that reveals a lush blanket of pure psych twilight. “Phlegraean Fields,” the most adventurous song on here, builds an ever-morphing, synth-laden melody, capturing a stranger surveying a mythical landscape with terror-tinged curiosity.4 Right out the gate, Ordh understands that the ‘cosmic’ in ‘cosmic-prog death’ should not be cosmetic. Indeed, the synths support consistently superb riffs on this debut, imbuing them with enriching depth.

Some aspects of Blind in Abyssal Realms dull its attack. Production-wise, the record sounds good but lacks a bit of low end. The caveman parts don’t hit as hard as they should; Blake’s kick drum could use more oomph, and Smith’s bass is frequently hard to detect in anything other than clean sections. Concerning the album’s pacing, the last two tracks don’t quite measure up to the ascending quality of the opening trio. “Blind in Abyssal Realms” is a strong song that, at over 12 minutes, could use editing. “Hierothesion” refreshingly closes out the record as its most straightforward pummeler, but similarly, some concision would amplify its effect. And as for originality, Ordh mostly sounds like itself, though occasionally, combinations of blast beats, dive bombs, and ‘aaaghs!’ are a bit too on the Blood Incantation nose.

Nitpicks aside, Ordh drives home its point with Blind in Abyssal Realms. This is an impressive debut that makes a mark on progressive death metal. Comprised of five tracks at just under 45 minutes, Blind in Abyssal Realms advances as a filler-free affair, trading violent slashes with chilled-out parries in a manner inviting repeat engagements. Fans of the genre should definitely spar with this sonic sword. Swīðe gōd weorc, Ordh!

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Pulverised Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Instagram | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: April 17th, 2026

Seeking revenge for her son’s death, Grendel’s mother thrusts her sword at Beowulf. ‘Him on eaxle læg / breostnet broden,’ the Beowulf poet pens,1 ‘þæt gebearh feore, / wið ord ond wið ecge ingang forstod.’ For those unfluent in Old English: Beowulf’s chainmail saved his life, withstanding both the edge and ‘ord’ (tip/spear) of the vengeful matriarch’s sword. From this archaic term for the spear of a sword, Ordh derives its appellation, which may suggest to readers an Anglo-Saxon-themed war metal outfit. That (killer) Paolo Girardi artwork, however, screams cosmic-prog death,2 with Blind in Abyssal Realms being the Vermont quartet’s first full-length lunge at the metal community. Ordh will need to be sharper than the sword of Grendel’s mother, though, for the generic chainmail of progressive death metal is more tightly braided than that adorned by the King of the Geats.3

The cosmic-prog death of Blind in Abyssal Realms claims roots in an earthier subgenre. After the dissolution of progressive sludgers Barishi, guitarist Graham Brooks joined forces with vocalist Jonathan Hébert of sludge-doomers Come to Grief to form a new band. In shifting from the slurry of sludge to the heft of death metal while retaining progressive and doom elements, Ordh ends up sounding like an atmospheric Mortiferum. Brooks’s riffs, whether on low or high strings, always possess grandeur, and his solos splotch like Jackson Pollock splashing paint across a canvas. Brooks also engineered the album’s synths, which are noticeable but never overpower the guitarwork. Hébert’s gutturals keep things terrestrial, hollering at the heavens from his earth-bound cave. Joining Brooks and Hébert are rhythm section Josh Smith (bass) and Dylan Blake (drums, ex-Barishi). Blake especially shines, mixing typical death-metal pounding with jazzy roving and glorious rototom runs. Given Ordh’s previous experience in sludge, it’s impressive how sharp their first attempt at cosmic-prog death is, standing toe to toe with the likes of Cosmic Putrefaction and Blood Incantation.

Blind in Abyssal Realms by Ordh

What makes Blind in Abyssal Realms cut deep is its balancing of atmosphere with instantly memorable riffs. Opener “Apis Bull” perfectly demonstrates this dichotomy; its big, bendy Oldpeth figure alternates with a spacey, higher-register version of itself before exploring new terrain. Similarly, “Moon of Urd” rises with a delightfully demented earworm that reveals a lush blanket of pure psych twilight. “Phlegraean Fields,” the most adventurous song on here, builds an ever-morphing, synth-laden melody, capturing a stranger surveying a mythical landscape with terror-tinged curiosity.4 Right out the gate, Ordh understands that the ‘cosmic’ in ‘cosmic-prog death’ should not be cosmetic. Indeed, the synths support consistently superb riffs on this debut, imbuing them with enriching depth.

Some aspects of Blind in Abyssal Realms dull its attack. Production-wise, the record sounds good but lacks a bit of low end. The caveman parts don’t hit as hard as they should; Blake’s kick drum could use more oomph, and Smith’s bass is frequently hard to detect in anything other than clean sections. Concerning the album’s pacing, the last two tracks don’t quite measure up to the ascending quality of the opening trio. “Blind in Abyssal Realms” is a strong song that, at over 12 minutes, could use editing. “Hierothesion” refreshingly closes out the record as its most straightforward pummeler, but similarly, some concision would amplify its effect. And as for originality, Ordh mostly sounds like itself, though occasionally, combinations of blast beats, dive bombs, and ‘aaaghs!’ are a bit too on the Blood Incantation nose.

Nitpicks aside, Ordh drives home its point with Blind in Abyssal Realms. This is an impressive debut that makes a mark on progressive death metal. Comprised of five tracks at just under 45 minutes, Blind in Abyssal Realms advances as a filler-free affair, trading violent slashes with chilled-out parries in a manner inviting repeat engagements. Fans of the genre should definitely spar with this sonic sword. Swīðe gōd weorc, Ordh!

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Pulverised Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Instagram | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: April 17th, 2026

Seeking revenge for her son’s death, Grendel’s mother thrusts her sword at Beowulf. ‘Him on eaxle læg / breostnet broden,’ the Beowulf poet pens,1 ‘þæt gebearh feore, / wið ord ond wið ecge ingang forstod.’ For those unfluent in Old English: Beowulf’s chainmail saved his life, withstanding both the edge and ‘ord’ (tip/spear) of the vengeful matriarch’s sword. From this archaic term for the spear of a sword, Ordh derives its appellation, which may suggest to readers an Anglo-Saxon-themed war metal outfit. That (killer) Paolo Girardi artwork, however, screams cosmic-prog death,2 with Blind in Abyssal Realms being the Vermont quartet’s first full-length lunge at the metal community. Ordh will need to be sharper than the sword of Grendel’s mother, though, for the generic chainmail of progressive death metal is more tightly braided than that adorned by the King of the Geats.3

The cosmic-prog death of Blind in Abyssal Realms claims roots in an earthier subgenre. After the dissolution of progressive sludgers Barishi, guitarist Graham Brooks joined forces with vocalist Jonathan Hébert of sludge-doomers Come to Grief to form a new band. In shifting from the slurry of sludge to the heft of death metal while retaining progressive and doom elements, Ordh ends up sounding like an atmospheric Mortiferum. Brooks’s riffs, whether on low or high strings, always possess grandeur, and his solos splotch like Jackson Pollock splashing paint across a canvas. Brooks also engineered the album’s synths, which are noticeable but never overpower the guitarwork. Hébert’s gutturals keep things terrestrial, hollering at the heavens from his earth-bound cave. Joining Brooks and Hébert are rhythm section Josh Smith (bass) and Dylan Blake (drums, ex-Barishi). Blake especially shines, mixing typical death-metal pounding with jazzy roving and glorious rototom runs. Given Ordh’s previous experience in sludge, it’s impressive how sharp their first attempt at cosmic-prog death is, standing toe to toe with the likes of Cosmic Putrefaction and Blood Incantation.

Blind in Abyssal Realms by Ordh

What makes Blind in Abyssal Realms cut deep is its balancing of atmosphere with instantly memorable riffs. Opener “Apis Bull” perfectly demonstrates this dichotomy; its big, bendy Oldpeth figure alternates with a spacey, higher-register version of itself before exploring new terrain. Similarly, “Moon of Urd” rises with a delightfully demented earworm that reveals a lush blanket of pure psych twilight. “Phlegraean Fields,” the most adventurous song on here, builds an ever-morphing, synth-laden melody, capturing a stranger surveying a mythical landscape with terror-tinged curiosity.4 Right out the gate, Ordh understands that the ‘cosmic’ in ‘cosmic-prog death’ should not be cosmetic. Indeed, the synths support consistently superb riffs on this debut, imbuing them with enriching depth.

Some aspects of Blind in Abyssal Realms dull its attack. Production-wise, the record sounds good but lacks a bit of low end. The caveman parts don’t hit as hard as they should; Blake’s kick drum could use more oomph, and Smith’s bass is frequently hard to detect in anything other than clean sections. Concerning the album’s pacing, the last two tracks don’t quite measure up to the ascending quality of the opening trio. “Blind in Abyssal Realms” is a strong song that, at over 12 minutes, could use editing. “Hierothesion” refreshingly closes out the record as its most straightforward pummeler, but similarly, some concision would amplify its effect. And as for originality, Ordh mostly sounds like itself, though occasionally, combinations of blast beats, dive bombs, and ‘aaaghs!’ are a bit too on the Blood Incantation nose.

Nitpicks aside, Ordh drives home its point with Blind in Abyssal Realms. This is an impressive debut that makes a mark on progressive death metal. Comprised of five tracks at just under 45 minutes, Blind in Abyssal Realms advances as a filler-free affair, trading violent slashes with chilled-out parries in a manner inviting repeat engagements. Fans of the genre should definitely spar with this sonic sword. Swīðe gōd weorc, Ordh!

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Pulverised Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Instagram | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: April 17th, 2026

Seeking revenge for her son’s death, Grendel’s mother thrusts her sword at Beowulf. ‘Him on eaxle læg / breostnet broden,’ the Beowulf poet pens,1 ‘þæt gebearh feore, / wið ord ond wið ecge ingang forstod.’ For those unfluent in Old English: Beowulf’s chainmail saved his life, withstanding both the edge and ‘ord’ (tip/spear) of the vengeful matriarch’s sword. From this archaic term for the spear of a sword, Ordh derives its appellation, which may suggest to readers an Anglo-Saxon-themed war metal outfit. That (killer) Paolo Girardi artwork, however, screams cosmic-prog death,2 with Blind in Abyssal Realms being the Vermont quartet’s first full-length lunge at the metal community. Ordh will need to be sharper than the sword of Grendel’s mother, though, for the generic chainmail of progressive death metal is more tightly braided than that adorned by the King of the Geats.3

The cosmic-prog death of Blind in Abyssal Realms claims roots in an earthier subgenre. After the dissolution of progressive sludgers Barishi, guitarist Graham Brooks joined forces with vocalist Jonathan Hébert of sludge-doomers Come to Grief to form a new band. In shifting from the slurry of sludge to the heft of death metal while retaining progressive and doom elements, Ordh ends up sounding like an atmospheric Mortiferum. Brooks’s riffs, whether on low or high strings, always possess grandeur, and his solos splotch like Jackson Pollock splashing paint across a canvas. Brooks also engineered the album’s synths, which are noticeable but never overpower the guitarwork. Hébert’s gutturals keep things terrestrial, hollering at the heavens from his earth-bound cave. Joining Brooks and Hébert are rhythm section Josh Smith (bass) and Dylan Blake (drums, ex-Barishi). Blake especially shines, mixing typical death-metal pounding with jazzy roving and glorious rototom runs. Given Ordh’s previous experience in sludge, it’s impressive how sharp their first attempt at cosmic-prog death is, standing toe to toe with the likes of Cosmic Putrefaction and Blood Incantation.

Blind in Abyssal Realms by Ordh

What makes Blind in Abyssal Realms cut deep is its balancing of atmosphere with instantly memorable riffs. Opener “Apis Bull” perfectly demonstrates this dichotomy; its big, bendy Oldpeth figure alternates with a spacey, higher-register version of itself before exploring new terrain. Similarly, “Moon of Urd” rises with a delightfully demented earworm that reveals a lush blanket of pure psych twilight. “Phlegraean Fields,” the most adventurous song on here, builds an ever-morphing, synth-laden melody, capturing a stranger surveying a mythical landscape with terror-tinged curiosity.4 Right out the gate, Ordh understands that the ‘cosmic’ in ‘cosmic-prog death’ should not be cosmetic. Indeed, the synths support consistently superb riffs on this debut, imbuing them with enriching depth.

Some aspects of Blind in Abyssal Realms dull its attack. Production-wise, the record sounds good but lacks a bit of low end. The caveman parts don’t hit as hard as they should; Blake’s kick drum could use more oomph, and Smith’s bass is frequently hard to detect in anything other than clean sections. Concerning the album’s pacing, the last two tracks don’t quite measure up to the ascending quality of the opening trio. “Blind in Abyssal Realms” is a strong song that, at over 12 minutes, could use editing. “Hierothesion” refreshingly closes out the record as its most straightforward pummeler, but similarly, some concision would amplify its effect. And as for originality, Ordh mostly sounds like itself, though occasionally, combinations of blast beats, dive bombs, and ‘aaaghs!’ are a bit too on the Blood Incantation nose.

Nitpicks aside, Ordh drives home its point with Blind in Abyssal Realms. This is an impressive debut that makes a mark on progressive death metal. Comprised of five tracks at just under 45 minutes, Blind in Abyssal Realms advances as a filler-free affair, trading violent slashes with chilled-out parries in a manner inviting repeat engagements. Fans of the genre should definitely spar with this sonic sword. Swīðe gōd weorc, Ordh!

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Pulverised Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Instagram | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: April 17th, 2026

https://www.europesays.com/uk/784800/ Necrofier – Transcend into Oblivion Review #2026 #30 #BlackMetal #DevilMaster #Dissection #Emperor #Entertainment #Feb26 #Hulder #MelodicBlackMetal #MetalBladeRecords #music #Necrofier #OceansOfSlumber #Review #Reviews #TranscendIntoOblivion #UK #UnitedKingdom #USMetal #Watain #Worm

Necrofier – Transcend into Oblivion Review

Houston’s Necrofier first came on my radar when they played the 2024 Decibel Magazine Tour with Hulder, Devil…
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Houston’s Necrofier first came on my radar when they played the 2024 Decibel Magazine Tour with Hulder, Devil Master, and Worm. Sadly, I missed their opening set, but gladly, I caught a recording of it on YouTube.1 Their raucous, crowd-pleasing performance compelled me to check out their recordings. At 36 minutes, debut Prophecies of Eternal Darkness (2021) is a lean, mean barrage of melodic black metal, while Burning Shadows in the Southern Night (2023) ups the ante with 47 minutes of stronger, more polished material. Necrofier’s (lone?) star seems to be on the rise since Decibel 2024, as their third album arrives on the mighty Metal Blade Records. Also on the rise are the band’s ambitions; Transcend into Oblivion spreads three three-songs suites and an eponymous closing track across a hefty 59 minutes. Everything is bigger in Texas, sure, but bigger doesn’t always mean better (or good).

Perhaps due to their sweltering abode, Necrofier draws black metal sustenance from the shivering environs of Scandinavia. Dissection is certainly an immediate reference point, if they excised the excursions into folky melodeath. Necrofier’s preferred melodicism swirls as a maelstrom of mobile power chords by guitarists Bakka and Semir Özerkan, propelled by the dexterous drumming of Dobber Beverly.2 The influence of Watain also feels present, especially since Bakka’s rasp sounds quite a bit like E. And early Emperor reigns here as well, before they fully unbound Prometheus. Violins, synthesizers, and harpsichords are felt more than heard outright, balancing a sweet spot production-wise à la Anthems to the Welkin at Dusk. On the unfortunate side of the production is bassist Mat Valentine, who gets lost in the shuffle. Nevertheless, Transcend into Oblivion consistently delivers quality black metal that is melodic but dangerous.

Transcend into Oblivion by Necrofier

Transcend into Oblivion progresses as three suites, each comprised of three songs. Together, they narrate a ‘Luciferian Night of the Dark Soul’: a spiritual awakening incites torment that ultimately engenders rebirth. Individually, they mostly play out as a collection of thematically-linked songs. “Fires of the Apocalypse, Light My Path” immediately kicks the door in (“Fires…I”) before kicking the door in again (“Fires…II”) and again—”Fires…III” is the strongest of the trio, but the listener begins wondering why these songs are presented as holistic units. The “Servants of Darkness, Guide My Way” trilogy comes closest to reaching suiteness. “Servants…I” starts with one of the album’s gnarliest trem riffs, “Servants…II” cools things down with an extended acoustic passage, and “Servants III” delightfully dips into doomy Middle-Eastern territory before black-metal blastoff. As for the “Horns of Destruction, Lift My Blade” triumvirate, it adds variety with d-beats, chunkier riffs, and a gong, but it feels like more of the same this deep into the album. There’s no real filler amongst the suites, but there aren’t any thrilling peaks either.

Keeping with their spiritualism, Necrofier nests numerology into Transcend into Oblivion, punctuating its three-song threesome with three instrumentals. For the most part, they effectively break up the black metal action. On the heels of the opening “Fires” suite, “Behold, the Birth of Ascension” conveys the onset of (re)birth pangs. Repurposing a melody from “Fires…III” with creepy bells and macabre piano, it cleverly inverts the typical function of an interlude, segueing out of a song rather than into one. More in the typical interlude camp is “Mystical Creation of Enlightenment.” Its Spanish-sounding acoustic plucks make for a soothing shift out of the savage “Servants” suite, while its ending modulation prefigures the ornery onset of the “Horns” suite. Oddly enough, it’s the eponymous instrumental that feels superfluous. “Toward the Necrofier” concludes the album with ominous space synths, incantatory spoken word, and tribal rhythms. “Horns…III,” however, ends with its own climax and a piano denouement, which makes the final instrumental feel like a coda to an album that doesn’t need more closure.

“Toward the Necrofier” does function as a serviceable springboard for a second spin of Transcend into Oblivion, an album which I ultimately recommend. It makes sense that Necrofier would cap off a work about rebirth with an eponymous song distilling the more unique elements of their sound. While Necrofier don’t fully realize their conceptual ambition, Transcend into Oblivion is sweet stuff regardless, demonstrating lots of promise for future outings. Black metal zealots of all stripes should strongly consider messing with these Texans.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed:256 kbps mp3
Label: Metal Blade Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Instagram | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: February 27th, 2026

Houston’s Necrofier first came on my radar when they played the 2024 Decibel Magazine Tour with Hulder, Devil Master, and Worm. Sadly, I missed their opening set, but gladly, I caught a recording of it on YouTube.1 Their raucous, crowd-pleasing performance compelled me to check out their recordings. At 36 minutes, debut Prophecies of Eternal Darkness (2021) is a lean, mean barrage of melodic black metal, while Burning Shadows in the Southern Night (2023) ups the ante with 47 minutes of stronger, more polished material. Necrofier’s (lone?) star seems to be on the rise since Decibel 2024, as their third album arrives on the mighty Metal Blade Records. Also on the rise are the band’s ambitions; Transcend into Oblivion spreads three three-songs suites and an eponymous closing track across a hefty 59 minutes. Everything is bigger in Texas, sure, but bigger doesn’t always mean better (or good).

Perhaps due to their sweltering abode, Necrofier draws black metal sustenance from the shivering environs of Scandinavia. Dissection is certainly an immediate reference point, if they excised the excursions into folky melodeath. Necrofier’s preferred melodicism swirls as a maelstrom of mobile power chords by guitarists Bakka and Semir Özerkan, propelled by the dexterous drumming of Dobber Beverly.2 The influence of Watain also feels present, especially since Bakka’s rasp sounds quite a bit like E. And early Emperor reigns here as well, before they fully unbound Prometheus. Violins, synthesizers, and harpsichords are felt more than heard outright, balancing a sweet spot production-wise à la Anthems to the Welkin at Dusk. On the unfortunate side of the production is bassist Mat Valentine, who gets lost in the shuffle. Nevertheless, Transcend into Oblivion consistently delivers quality black metal that is melodic but dangerous.

Transcend into Oblivion by Necrofier

Transcend into Oblivion progresses as three suites, each comprised of three songs. Together, they narrate a ‘Luciferian Night of the Dark Soul’: a spiritual awakening incites torment that ultimately engenders rebirth. Individually, they mostly play out as a collection of thematically-linked songs. “Fires of the Apocalypse, Light My Path” immediately kicks the door in (“Fires…I”) before kicking the door in again (“Fires…II”) and again—”Fires…III” is the strongest of the trio, but the listener begins wondering why these songs are presented as holistic units. The “Servants of Darkness, Guide My Way” trilogy comes closest to reaching suiteness. “Servants…I” starts with one of the album’s gnarliest trem riffs, “Servants…II” cools things down with an extended acoustic passage, and “Servants III” delightfully dips into doomy Middle-Eastern territory before black-metal blastoff. As for the “Horns of Destruction, Lift My Blade” triumvirate, it adds variety with d-beats, chunkier riffs, and a gong, but it feels like more of the same this deep into the album. There’s no real filler amongst the suites, but there aren’t any thrilling peaks either.

Keeping with their spiritualism, Necrofier nests numerology into Transcend into Oblivion, punctuating its three-song threesome with three instrumentals. For the most part, they effectively break up the black metal action. On the heels of the opening “Fires” suite, “Behold, the Birth of Ascension” conveys the onset of (re)birth pangs. Repurposing a melody from “Fires…III” with creepy bells and macabre piano, it cleverly inverts the typical function of an interlude, segueing out of a song rather than into one. More in the typical interlude camp is “Mystical Creation of Enlightenment.” Its Spanish-sounding acoustic plucks make for a soothing shift out of the savage “Servants” suite, while its ending modulation prefigures the ornery onset of the “Horns” suite. Oddly enough, it’s the eponymous instrumental that feels superfluous. “Toward the Necrofier” concludes the album with ominous space synths, incantatory spoken word, and tribal rhythms. “Horns…III,” however, ends with its own climax and a piano denouement, which makes the final instrumental feel like a coda to an album that doesn’t need more closure.

“Toward the Necrofier” does function as a serviceable springboard for a second spin of Transcend into Oblivion, an album which I ultimately recommend. It makes sense that Necrofier would cap off a work about rebirth with an eponymous song distilling the more unique elements of their sound. While Necrofier don’t fully realize their conceptual ambition, Transcend into Oblivion is sweet stuff regardless, demonstrating lots of promise for future outings. Black metal zealots of all stripes should strongly consider messing with these Texans.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed:256 kbps mp3
Label: Metal Blade Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Instagram | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: February 27th, 2026

Houston’s Necrofier first came on my radar when they played the 2024 Decibel Magazine Tour with Hulder, Devil Master, and Worm. Sadly, I missed their opening set, but gladly, I caught a recording of it on YouTube.1 Their raucous, crowd-pleasing performance compelled me to check out their recordings. At 36 minutes, debut Prophecies of Eternal Darkness (2021) is a lean, mean barrage of melodic black metal, while Burning Shadows in the Southern Night (2023) ups the ante with 47 minutes of stronger, more polished material. Necrofier’s (lone?) star seems to be on the rise since Decibel 2024, as their third album arrives on the mighty Metal Blade Records. Also on the rise are the band’s ambitions; Transcend into Oblivion spreads three three-songs suites and an eponymous closing track across a hefty 59 minutes. Everything is bigger in Texas, sure, but bigger doesn’t always mean better (or good).

Perhaps due to their sweltering abode, Necrofier draws black metal sustenance from the shivering environs of Scandinavia. Dissection is certainly an immediate reference point, if they excised the excursions into folky melodeath. Necrofier’s preferred melodicism swirls as a maelstrom of mobile power chords by guitarists Bakka and Semir Özerkan, propelled by the dexterous drumming of Dobber Beverly.2 The influence of Watain also feels present, especially since Bakka’s rasp sounds quite a bit like E. And early Emperor reigns here as well, before they fully unbound Prometheus. Violins, synthesizers, and harpsichords are felt more than heard outright, balancing a sweet spot production-wise à la Anthems to the Welkin at Dusk. On the unfortunate side of the production is bassist Mat Valentine, who gets lost in the shuffle. Nevertheless, Transcend into Oblivion consistently delivers quality black metal that is melodic but dangerous.

Transcend into Oblivion by Necrofier

Transcend into Oblivion progresses as three suites, each comprised of three songs. Together, they narrate a ‘Luciferian Night of the Dark Soul’: a spiritual awakening incites torment that ultimately engenders rebirth. Individually, they mostly play out as a collection of thematically-linked songs. “Fires of the Apocalypse, Light My Path” immediately kicks the door in (“Fires…I”) before kicking the door in again (“Fires…II”) and again—”Fires…III” is the strongest of the trio, but the listener begins wondering why these songs are presented as holistic units. The “Servants of Darkness, Guide My Way” trilogy comes closest to reaching suiteness. “Servants…I” starts with one of the album’s gnarliest trem riffs, “Servants…II” cools things down with an extended acoustic passage, and “Servants III” delightfully dips into doomy Middle-Eastern territory before black-metal blastoff. As for the “Horns of Destruction, Lift My Blade” triumvirate, it adds variety with d-beats, chunkier riffs, and a gong, but it feels like more of the same this deep into the album. There’s no real filler amongst the suites, but there aren’t any thrilling peaks either.

Keeping with their spiritualism, Necrofier nests numerology into Transcend into Oblivion, punctuating its three-song threesome with three instrumentals. For the most part, they effectively break up the black metal action. On the heels of the opening “Fires” suite, “Behold, the Birth of Ascension” conveys the onset of (re)birth pangs. Repurposing a melody from “Fires…III” with creepy bells and macabre piano, it cleverly inverts the typical function of an interlude, segueing out of a song rather than into one. More in the typical interlude camp is “Mystical Creation of Enlightenment.” Its Spanish-sounding acoustic plucks make for a soothing shift out of the savage “Servants” suite, while its ending modulation prefigures the ornery onset of the “Horns” suite. Oddly enough, it’s the eponymous instrumental that feels superfluous. “Toward the Necrofier” concludes the album with ominous space synths, incantatory spoken word, and tribal rhythms. “Horns…III,” however, ends with its own climax and a piano denouement, which makes the final instrumental feel like a coda to an album that doesn’t need more closure.

“Toward the Necrofier” does function as a serviceable springboard for a second spin of Transcend into Oblivion, an album which I ultimately recommend. It makes sense that Necrofier would cap off a work about rebirth with an eponymous song distilling the more unique elements of their sound. While Necrofier don’t fully realize their conceptual ambition, Transcend into Oblivion is sweet stuff regardless, demonstrating lots of promise for future outings. Black metal zealots of all stripes should strongly consider messing with these Texans.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed:256 kbps mp3
Label: Metal Blade Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Instagram | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: February 27th, 2026

Houston’s Necrofier first came on my radar when they played the 2024 Decibel Magazine Tour with Hulder, Devil Master, and Worm. Sadly, I missed their opening set, but gladly, I caught a recording of it on YouTube.1 Their raucous, crowd-pleasing performance compelled me to check out their recordings. At 36 minutes, debut Prophecies of Eternal Darkness (2021) is a lean, mean barrage of melodic black metal, while Burning Shadows in the Southern Night (2023) ups the ante with 47 minutes of stronger, more polished material. Necrofier’s (lone?) star seems to be on the rise since Decibel 2024, as their third album arrives on the mighty Metal Blade Records. Also on the rise are the band’s ambitions; Transcend into Oblivion spreads three three-songs suites and an eponymous closing track across a hefty 59 minutes. Everything is bigger in Texas, sure, but bigger doesn’t always mean better (or good).

Perhaps due to their sweltering abode, Necrofier draws black metal sustenance from the shivering environs of Scandinavia. Dissection is certainly an immediate reference point, if they excised the excursions into folky melodeath. Necrofier’s preferred melodicism swirls as a maelstrom of mobile power chords by guitarists Bakka and Semir Özerkan, propelled by the dexterous drumming of Dobber Beverly.2 The influence of Watain also feels present, especially since Bakka’s rasp sounds quite a bit like E. And early Emperor reigns here as well, before they fully unbound Prometheus. Violins, synthesizers, and harpsichords are felt more than heard outright, balancing a sweet spot production-wise à la Anthems to the Welkin at Dusk. On the unfortunate side of the production is bassist Mat Valentine, who gets lost in the shuffle. Nevertheless, Transcend into Oblivion consistently delivers quality black metal that is melodic but dangerous.

Transcend into Oblivion by Necrofier

Transcend into Oblivion progresses as three suites, each comprised of three songs. Together, they narrate a ‘Luciferian Night of the Dark Soul’: a spiritual awakening incites torment that ultimately engenders rebirth. Individually, they mostly play out as a collection of thematically-linked songs. “Fires of the Apocalypse, Light My Path” immediately kicks the door in (“Fires…I”) before kicking the door in again (“Fires…II”) and again—”Fires…III” is the strongest of the trio, but the listener begins wondering why these songs are presented as holistic units. The “Servants of Darkness, Guide My Way” trilogy comes closest to reaching suiteness. “Servants…I” starts with one of the album’s gnarliest trem riffs, “Servants…II” cools things down with an extended acoustic passage, and “Servants III” delightfully dips into doomy Middle-Eastern territory before black-metal blastoff. As for the “Horns of Destruction, Lift My Blade” triumvirate, it adds variety with d-beats, chunkier riffs, and a gong, but it feels like more of the same this deep into the album. There’s no real filler amongst the suites, but there aren’t any thrilling peaks either.

Keeping with their spiritualism, Necrofier nests numerology into Transcend into Oblivion, punctuating its three-song threesome with three instrumentals. For the most part, they effectively break up the black metal action. On the heels of the opening “Fires” suite, “Behold, the Birth of Ascension” conveys the onset of (re)birth pangs. Repurposing a melody from “Fires…III” with creepy bells and macabre piano, it cleverly inverts the typical function of an interlude, segueing out of a song rather than into one. More in the typical interlude camp is “Mystical Creation of Enlightenment.” Its Spanish-sounding acoustic plucks make for a soothing shift out of the savage “Servants” suite, while its ending modulation prefigures the ornery onset of the “Horns” suite. Oddly enough, it’s the eponymous instrumental that feels superfluous. “Toward the Necrofier” concludes the album with ominous space synths, incantatory spoken word, and tribal rhythms. “Horns…III,” however, ends with its own climax and a piano denouement, which makes the final instrumental feel like a coda to an album that doesn’t need more closure.

“Toward the Necrofier” does function as a serviceable springboard for a second spin of Transcend into Oblivion, an album which I ultimately recommend. It makes sense that Necrofier would cap off a work about rebirth with an eponymous song distilling the more unique elements of their sound. While Necrofier don’t fully realize their conceptual ambition, Transcend into Oblivion is sweet stuff regardless, demonstrating lots of promise for future outings. Black metal zealots of all stripes should strongly consider messing with these Texans.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed:256 kbps mp3
Label: Metal Blade Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Instagram | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: February 27th, 2026

Houston’s Necrofier first came on my radar when they played the 2024 Decibel Magazine Tour with Hulder, Devil Master, and Worm. Sadly, I missed their opening set, but gladly, I caught a recording of it on YouTube.1 Their raucous, crowd-pleasing performance compelled me to check out their recordings. At 36 minutes, debut Prophecies of Eternal Darkness (2021) is a lean, mean barrage of melodic black metal, while Burning Shadows in the Southern Night (2023) ups the ante with 47 minutes of stronger, more polished material. Necrofier’s (lone?) star seems to be on the rise since Decibel 2024, as their third album arrives on the mighty Metal Blade Records. Also on the rise are the band’s ambitions; Transcend into Oblivion spreads three three-songs suites and an eponymous closing track across a hefty 59 minutes. Everything is bigger in Texas, sure, but bigger doesn’t always mean better (or good).

Perhaps due to their sweltering abode, Necrofier draws black metal sustenance from the shivering environs of Scandinavia. Dissection is certainly an immediate reference point, if they excised the excursions into folky melodeath. Necrofier’s preferred melodicism swirls as a maelstrom of mobile power chords by guitarists Bakka and Semir Özerkan, propelled by the dexterous drumming of Dobber Beverly.2 The influence of Watain also feels present, especially since Bakka’s rasp sounds quite a bit like E. And early Emperor reigns here as well, before they fully unbound Prometheus. Violins, synthesizers, and harpsichords are felt more than heard outright, balancing a sweet spot production-wise à la Anthems to the Welkin at Dusk. On the unfortunate side of the production is bassist Mat Valentine, who gets lost in the shuffle. Nevertheless, Transcend into Oblivion consistently delivers quality black metal that is melodic but dangerous.

Transcend into Oblivion by Necrofier

Transcend into Oblivion progresses as three suites, each comprised of three songs. Together, they narrate a ‘Luciferian Night of the Dark Soul’: a spiritual awakening incites torment that ultimately engenders rebirth. Individually, they mostly play out as a collection of thematically-linked songs. “Fires of the Apocalypse, Light My Path” immediately kicks the door in (“Fires…I”) before kicking the door in again (“Fires…II”) and again—”Fires…III” is the strongest of the trio, but the listener begins wondering why these songs are presented as holistic units. The “Servants of Darkness, Guide My Way” trilogy comes closest to reaching suiteness. “Servants…I” starts with one of the album’s gnarliest trem riffs, “Servants…II” cools things down with an extended acoustic passage, and “Servants III” delightfully dips into doomy Middle-Eastern territory before black-metal blastoff. As for the “Horns of Destruction, Lift My Blade” triumvirate, it adds variety with d-beats, chunkier riffs, and a gong, but it feels like more of the same this deep into the album. There’s no real filler amongst the suites, but there aren’t any thrilling peaks either.

Keeping with their spiritualism, Necrofier nests numerology into Transcend into Oblivion, punctuating its three-song threesome with three instrumentals. For the most part, they effectively break up the black metal action. On the heels of the opening “Fires” suite, “Behold, the Birth of Ascension” conveys the onset of (re)birth pangs. Repurposing a melody from “Fires…III” with creepy bells and macabre piano, it cleverly inverts the typical function of an interlude, segueing out of a song rather than into one. More in the typical interlude camp is “Mystical Creation of Enlightenment.” Its Spanish-sounding acoustic plucks make for a soothing shift out of the savage “Servants” suite, while its ending modulation prefigures the ornery onset of the “Horns” suite. Oddly enough, it’s the eponymous instrumental that feels superfluous. “Toward the Necrofier” concludes the album with ominous space synths, incantatory spoken word, and tribal rhythms. “Horns…III,” however, ends with its own climax and a piano denouement, which makes the final instrumental feel like a coda to an album that doesn’t need more closure.

“Toward the Necrofier” does function as a serviceable springboard for a second spin of Transcend into Oblivion, an album which I ultimately recommend. It makes sense that Necrofier would cap off a work about rebirth with an eponymous song distilling the more unique elements of their sound. While Necrofier don’t fully realize their conceptual ambition, Transcend into Oblivion is sweet stuff regardless, demonstrating lots of promise for future outings. Black metal zealots of all stripes should strongly consider messing with these Texans.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed:256 kbps mp3
Label: Metal Blade Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Instagram | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: February 27th, 2026

#newsoftheworld

TOTAL MANIAC - Gutter dwellin' Rock n Roll from Baltimore, MD/USA ! New album out on March 27 !

https://roughtimes.net/news/total-maniac-gutter-dwellin-rock-n-roll-from-baltimore-md-usa-new-album-out-on-march-27

#americanmetal #heavymetal #usmetal #clawhammerpr

Being a non-native Bostonian in Beantown allows me to exercise a dispassionate objectivity towards the city’s musical culture. I vicariously experience the pride of housing The Pixies but don’t feel the shame of inhabiting Aerosmith Land.1 And yet, I’m always curious about local artists who can obliterate this objectivity, making me feel proud of Boston. Bygone, a heavy metal/hard rock sextet, may be able to liberate my revolutionary heart from its Tory shackles. Despite being Boston-based, Bygone have just dropped their debut album on Svart Records, an independent label based in Finland. Svart’s solid track record, coupled with that pulpy sci-fi cover, gives me more than a feeling that Bygone will deliver.

As per their name, Bygone is not really interested in revolution. These Bostonians serve a heavier-than-usual hard rock that had its heyday in the 1970s. But as the band itself so enticingly puts it, Bygone ’feels not so much of the historical past as it does the never-quite-was.’2 To this end, guitarists Noah Stormbringer and Chris Corry lay down driving riffs that feel like a chuggier Deep Purple (“Lightspeed Nights,” “City Living”). The powerful mid-range of vocalist James Kirn fronts a Uriah Heep with more heft than David Byron or John Lawton (“Shadow Rising,” “Take Me Home”). All the while, bassist Cecelia Hale and drummer Connor Donegan hover like a steadier UFO (“Fire in You Fire in Me”). With production wetter than the Charles River, Bygone sounds like the 70s proto-metal record that never was, but now is.

Bygone by Bygone

Bygone packs a tasty psychedelic flavor, largely stemming from its synths. Keyboardist Renato is a key fixture of Bygone, sonically fulfilling the spacey atmosphere suggested by the album cover. His tones span the cosmos, sounding like the stars, the interstellar spaceships traveling to them, and everything in between. “Lightspeed Nights” perfectly exemplifies Renato’s dual role in Bygone. Sometimes, he provides atmospheric background for the sparkling guitars; other times, he’s front and center, swirling like Saturnian rings around the band. But Bygone’s highlights, far and away, come from Renato’s interplays with guitarists Stormbringer and Corry. The bridge of “Shadow Rising,” for example, amplifies its time signature change with some nifty call-and-response triplets. Similarly, but more expansively, “Take Me Home” builds a progressive guitar/keyboard conversation into its DNA. On account of its psychedelic synths, Bygone becomes an album that pairs well with some Green Monster.

Bygone doesn’t go by without flaws. As mentioned, Kirn is a powerful vocalist, harboring a flexible mid-range that can satisfyingly hit higher notes. His verses and choruses, however, often need stronger hooks to differentiate themselves from the infectious guitar and keyboard melodies (“Lightspeed Nights”). Bygone also has some pacing issues. Despite being a fairly consistent 43 minutes, it lacks show-stopping highs (though “Take Me Home” comes close). Some midpoint lag (“Into the Gleam,” “The Last Horses of Avalon”) makes the album feel longer than it is. “City Living,” however, picks things back up before the closer. “Fire in You Fire in Me” stands as the most unique track on Bygone, with gentler, warmer tones recalling Procol Harum. Bygone would do well to make way for more variety of this kind.

Bygone is a good (though not wicked good) debut from a promising band. These Bostonians demonstrate keen awareness of what makes modern retro rock/metal work. Tone is tantamount but not totalizing; you need riffs, and Bygone holds plenty. Fans of the band’s 70s influences and other such contemporaries dealing in musical antiques will love the galactically vintage tones on display here. With a bit more songwriting variety and vocal hooks, Bygone should make Boston (and its iconoclastic transplants) more than proud.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Svart Records
Website: Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: December 12th, 2025

Being a non-native Bostonian in Beantown allows me to exercise a dispassionate objectivity towards the city’s musical culture. I vicariously experience the pride of housing The Pixies but don’t feel the shame of inhabiting Aerosmith Land.1 And yet, I’m always curious about local artists who can obliterate this objectivity, making me feel proud of Boston. Bygone, a heavy metal/hard rock sextet, may be able to liberate my revolutionary heart from its Tory shackles. Despite being Boston-based, Bygone have just dropped their debut album on Svart Records, an independent label based in Finland. Svart’s solid track record, coupled with that pulpy sci-fi cover, gives me more than a feeling that Bygone will deliver.

As per their name, Bygone is not really interested in revolution. These Bostonians serve a heavier-than-usual hard rock that had its heyday in the 1970s. But as the band itself so enticingly puts it, Bygone ’feels not so much of the historical past as it does the never-quite-was.’2 To this end, guitarists Noah Stormbringer and Chris Corry lay down driving riffs that feel like a chuggier Deep Purple (“Lightspeed Nights,” “City Living”). The powerful mid-range of vocalist James Kirn fronts a Uriah Heep with more heft than David Byron or John Lawton (“Shadow Rising,” “Take Me Home”). All the while, bassist Cecelia Hale and drummer Connor Donegan hover like a steadier UFO (“Fire in You Fire in Me”). With production wetter than the Charles River, Bygone sounds like the 70s proto-metal record that never was, but now is.

Bygone by Bygone

Bygone packs a tasty psychedelic flavor, largely stemming from its synths. Keyboardist Renato is a key fixture of Bygone, sonically fulfilling the spacey atmosphere suggested by the album cover. His tones span the cosmos, sounding like the stars, the interstellar spaceships traveling to them, and everything in between. “Lightspeed Nights” perfectly exemplifies Renato’s dual role in Bygone. Sometimes, he provides atmospheric background for the sparkling guitars; other times, he’s front and center, swirling like Saturnian rings around the band. But Bygone’s highlights, far and away, come from Renato’s interplays with guitarists Stormbringer and Corry. The bridge of “Shadow Rising,” for example, amplifies its time signature change with some nifty call-and-response triplets. Similarly, but more expansively, “Take Me Home” builds a progressive guitar/keyboard conversation into its DNA. On account of its psychedelic synths, Bygone becomes an album that pairs well with some Green Monster.

Bygone doesn’t go by without flaws. As mentioned, Kirn is a powerful vocalist, harboring a flexible mid-range that can satisfyingly hit higher notes. His verses and choruses, however, often need stronger hooks to differentiate themselves from the infectious guitar and keyboard melodies (“Lightspeed Nights”). Bygone also has some pacing issues. Despite being a fairly consistent 43 minutes, it lacks show-stopping highs (though “Take Me Home” comes close). Some midpoint lag (“Into the Gleam,” “The Last Horses of Avalon”) makes the album feel longer than it is. “City Living,” however, picks things back up before the closer. “Fire in You Fire in Me” stands as the most unique track on Bygone, with gentler, warmer tones recalling Procol Harum. Bygone would do well to make way for more variety of this kind.

Bygone is a good (though not wicked good) debut from a promising band. These Bostonians demonstrate keen awareness of what makes modern retro rock/metal work. Tone is tantamount but not totalizing; you need riffs, and Bygone holds plenty. Fans of the band’s 70s influences and other such contemporaries dealing in musical antiques will love the galactically vintage tones on display here. With a bit more songwriting variety and vocal hooks, Bygone should make Boston (and its iconoclastic transplants) more than proud.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Svart Records
Website: Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: December 12th, 2025

Being a non-native Bostonian in Beantown allows me to exercise a dispassionate objectivity towards the city’s musical culture. I vicariously experience the pride of housing The Pixies but don’t feel the shame of inhabiting Aerosmith Land.1 And yet, I’m always curious about local artists who can obliterate this objectivity, making me feel proud of Boston. Bygone, a heavy metal/hard rock sextet, may be able to liberate my revolutionary heart from its Tory shackles. Despite being Boston-based, Bygone have just dropped their debut album on Svart Records, an independent label based in Finland. Svart’s solid track record, coupled with that pulpy sci-fi cover, gives me more than a feeling that Bygone will deliver.

As per their name, Bygone is not really interested in revolution. These Bostonians serve a heavier-than-usual hard rock that had its heyday in the 1970s. But as the band itself so enticingly puts it, Bygone ’feels not so much of the historical past as it does the never-quite-was.’2 To this end, guitarists Noah Stormbringer and Chris Corry lay down driving riffs that feel like a chuggier Deep Purple (“Lightspeed Nights,” “City Living”). The powerful mid-range of vocalist James Kirn fronts a Uriah Heep with more heft than David Byron or John Lawton (“Shadow Rising,” “Take Me Home”). All the while, bassist Cecelia Hale and drummer Connor Donegan hover like a steadier UFO (“Fire in You Fire in Me”). With production wetter than the Charles River, Bygone sounds like the 70s proto-metal record that never was, but now is.

Bygone by Bygone

Bygone packs a tasty psychedelic flavor, largely stemming from its synths. Keyboardist Renato is a key fixture of Bygone, sonically fulfilling the spacey atmosphere suggested by the album cover. His tones span the cosmos, sounding like the stars, the interstellar spaceships traveling to them, and everything in between. “Lightspeed Nights” perfectly exemplifies Renato’s dual role in Bygone. Sometimes, he provides atmospheric background for the sparkling guitars; other times, he’s front and center, swirling like Saturnian rings around the band. But Bygone’s highlights, far and away, come from Renato’s interplays with guitarists Stormbringer and Corry. The bridge of “Shadow Rising,” for example, amplifies its time signature change with some nifty call-and-response triplets. Similarly, but more expansively, “Take Me Home” builds a progressive guitar/keyboard conversation into its DNA. On account of its psychedelic synths, Bygone becomes an album that pairs well with some Green Monster.

Bygone doesn’t go by without flaws. As mentioned, Kirn is a powerful vocalist, harboring a flexible mid-range that can satisfyingly hit higher notes. His verses and choruses, however, often need stronger hooks to differentiate themselves from the infectious guitar and keyboard melodies (“Lightspeed Nights”). Bygone also has some pacing issues. Despite being a fairly consistent 43 minutes, it lacks show-stopping highs (though “Take Me Home” comes close). Some midpoint lag (“Into the Gleam,” “The Last Horses of Avalon”) makes the album feel longer than it is. “City Living,” however, picks things back up before the closer. “Fire in You Fire in Me” stands as the most unique track on Bygone, with gentler, warmer tones recalling Procol Harum. Bygone would do well to make way for more variety of this kind.

Bygone is a good (though not wicked good) debut from a promising band. These Bostonians demonstrate keen awareness of what makes modern retro rock/metal work. Tone is tantamount but not totalizing; you need riffs, and Bygone holds plenty. Fans of the band’s 70s influences and other such contemporaries dealing in musical antiques will love the galactically vintage tones on display here. With a bit more songwriting variety and vocal hooks, Bygone should make Boston (and its iconoclastic transplants) more than proud.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Svart Records
Website: Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: December 12th, 2025

Being a non-native Bostonian in Beantown allows me to exercise a dispassionate objectivity towards the city’s musical culture. I vicariously experience the pride of housing The Pixies but don’t feel the shame of inhabiting Aerosmith Land.1 And yet, I’m always curious about local artists who can obliterate this objectivity, making me feel proud of Boston. Bygone, a heavy metal/hard rock sextet, may be able to liberate my revolutionary heart from its Tory shackles. Despite being Boston-based, Bygone have just dropped their debut album on Svart Records, an independent label based in Finland. Svart’s solid track record, coupled with that pulpy sci-fi cover, gives me more than a feeling that Bygone will deliver.

As per their name, Bygone is not really interested in revolution. These Bostonians serve a heavier-than-usual hard rock that had its heyday in the 1970s. But as the band itself so enticingly puts it, Bygone ’feels not so much of the historical past as it does the never-quite-was.’2 To this end, guitarists Noah Stormbringer and Chris Corry lay down driving riffs that feel like a chuggier Deep Purple (“Lightspeed Nights,” “City Living”). The powerful mid-range of vocalist James Kirn fronts a Uriah Heep with more heft than David Byron or John Lawton (“Shadow Rising,” “Take Me Home”). All the while, bassist Cecelia Hale and drummer Connor Donegan hover like a steadier UFO (“Fire in You Fire in Me”). With production wetter than the Charles River, Bygone sounds like the 70s proto-metal record that never was, but now is.

Bygone by Bygone

Bygone packs a tasty psychedelic flavor, largely stemming from its synths. Keyboardist Renato is a key fixture of Bygone, sonically fulfilling the spacey atmosphere suggested by the album cover. His tones span the cosmos, sounding like the stars, the interstellar spaceships traveling to them, and everything in between. “Lightspeed Nights” perfectly exemplifies Renato’s dual role in Bygone. Sometimes, he provides atmospheric background for the sparkling guitars; other times, he’s front and center, swirling like Saturnian rings around the band. But Bygone’s highlights, far and away, come from Renato’s interplays with guitarists Stormbringer and Corry. The bridge of “Shadow Rising,” for example, amplifies its time signature change with some nifty call-and-response triplets. Similarly, but more expansively, “Take Me Home” builds a progressive guitar/keyboard conversation into its DNA. On account of its psychedelic synths, Bygone becomes an album that pairs well with some Green Monster.

Bygone doesn’t go by without flaws. As mentioned, Kirn is a powerful vocalist, harboring a flexible mid-range that can satisfyingly hit higher notes. His verses and choruses, however, often need stronger hooks to differentiate themselves from the infectious guitar and keyboard melodies (“Lightspeed Nights”). Bygone also has some pacing issues. Despite being a fairly consistent 43 minutes, it lacks show-stopping highs (though “Take Me Home” comes close). Some midpoint lag (“Into the Gleam,” “The Last Horses of Avalon”) makes the album feel longer than it is. “City Living,” however, picks things back up before the closer. “Fire in You Fire in Me” stands as the most unique track on Bygone, with gentler, warmer tones recalling Procol Harum. Bygone would do well to make way for more variety of this kind.

Bygone is a good (though not wicked good) debut from a promising band. These Bostonians demonstrate keen awareness of what makes modern retro rock/metal work. Tone is tantamount but not totalizing; you need riffs, and Bygone holds plenty. Fans of the band’s 70s influences and other such contemporaries dealing in musical antiques will love the galactically vintage tones on display here. With a bit more songwriting variety and vocal hooks, Bygone should make Boston (and its iconoclastic transplants) more than proud.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Svart Records
Website: Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: December 12th, 2025

Being a non-native Bostonian in Beantown allows me to exercise a dispassionate objectivity towards the city’s musical culture. I vicariously experience the pride of housing The Pixies but don’t feel the shame of inhabiting Aerosmith Land.1 And yet, I’m always curious about local artists who can obliterate this objectivity, making me feel proud of Boston. Bygone, a heavy metal/hard rock sextet, may be able to liberate my revolutionary heart from its Tory shackles. Despite being Boston-based, Bygone have just dropped their debut album on Svart Records, an independent label based in Finland. Svart’s solid track record, coupled with that pulpy sci-fi cover, gives me more than a feeling that Bygone will deliver.

As per their name, Bygone is not really interested in revolution. These Bostonians serve a heavier-than-usual hard rock that had its heyday in the 1970s. But as the band itself so enticingly puts it, Bygone ’feels not so much of the historical past as it does the never-quite-was.’2 To this end, guitarists Noah Stormbringer and Chris Corry lay down driving riffs that feel like a chuggier Deep Purple (“Lightspeed Nights,” “City Living”). The powerful mid-range of vocalist James Kirn fronts a Uriah Heep with more heft than David Byron or John Lawton (“Shadow Rising,” “Take Me Home”). All the while, bassist Cecelia Hale and drummer Connor Donegan hover like a steadier UFO (“Fire in You Fire in Me”). With production wetter than the Charles River, Bygone sounds like the 70s proto-metal record that never was, but now is.

Bygone by Bygone

Bygone packs a tasty psychedelic flavor, largely stemming from its synths. Keyboardist Renato is a key fixture of Bygone, sonically fulfilling the spacey atmosphere suggested by the album cover. His tones span the cosmos, sounding like the stars, the interstellar spaceships traveling to them, and everything in between. “Lightspeed Nights” perfectly exemplifies Renato’s dual role in Bygone. Sometimes, he provides atmospheric background for the sparkling guitars; other times, he’s front and center, swirling like Saturnian rings around the band. But Bygone’s highlights, far and away, come from Renato’s interplays with guitarists Stormbringer and Corry. The bridge of “Shadow Rising,” for example, amplifies its time signature change with some nifty call-and-response triplets. Similarly, but more expansively, “Take Me Home” builds a progressive guitar/keyboard conversation into its DNA. On account of its psychedelic synths, Bygone becomes an album that pairs well with some Green Monster.

Bygone doesn’t go by without flaws. As mentioned, Kirn is a powerful vocalist, harboring a flexible mid-range that can satisfyingly hit higher notes. His verses and choruses, however, often need stronger hooks to differentiate themselves from the infectious guitar and keyboard melodies (“Lightspeed Nights”). Bygone also has some pacing issues. Despite being a fairly consistent 43 minutes, it lacks show-stopping highs (though “Take Me Home” comes close). Some midpoint lag (“Into the Gleam,” “The Last Horses of Avalon”) makes the album feel longer than it is. “City Living,” however, picks things back up before the closer. “Fire in You Fire in Me” stands as the most unique track on Bygone, with gentler, warmer tones recalling Procol Harum. Bygone would do well to make way for more variety of this kind.

Bygone is a good (though not wicked good) debut from a promising band. These Bostonians demonstrate keen awareness of what makes modern retro rock/metal work. Tone is tantamount but not totalizing; you need riffs, and Bygone holds plenty. Fans of the band’s 70s influences and other such contemporaries dealing in musical antiques will love the galactically vintage tones on display here. With a bit more songwriting variety and vocal hooks, Bygone should make Boston (and its iconoclastic transplants) more than proud.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Svart Records
Website: Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: December 12th, 2025

Weeping Sores – The Convalescence Agonies [Things You Might Have Missed 2025]

By Creeping Ivy

Pleasure—as Judas Priest, sadomasochists, and Flagellants teach us—can be found in pain. Doug Moore and Stephen Schwegler, the guitar/drum duo behind Weeping Sores, also teach this lesson with The Convalescence Agonies. As its title suggests, the sophomore Weeping Sores album chronicles Moore’s recovery from a shoulder injury that, quite unfortunately, prevented him from playing guitar.1 Quite fortunately for us, Moore sublimates his agony into the listener’s ecstasy with The Convalescence Agonies. Debut False Confession received high praise here, making the 2019 lists of Saunders (Honorable Mention), Cherd of Doom (#8), and Ferrous Beuller (#4). On its follow-up, Weeping Sores deliver a leaner, lusher, and eminently listable slab of death-doom.

On The Convalescence Agonies, Weeping Sores level up by scaling back. False Confession established that Moore and Schwegler of Pyrrhon fame could successfully craft a more plodding, brooding death metal, sounding like Morbid Angel making proclamations to My Dying Bride. At 56 minutes with multiple 9- and 10-minute songs, however, the album definitely fatigues. In comparison, The Convalescence Agonies clocks in at 43 minutes, energizing the listener by lurking towards its epic compositions. Moore’s climbing guitar and anguished screams in “Arctic Summer” segue into “Empty Vessel Hymn,” a heater showcasing Schwegler’s jazzy hands. The mid-album climax, “Sprawl in the City of Sorrow,” spreads chunky, blasty, and militaristic riffs across 9 breezy minutes. “Pleading for the Scythe” mixes delicate chords, lumbering beatdowns, and off-kilter shredding, setting the stage for the title track. “The Convalescence Agonies,” a 14-minute monster, boasts the stankiest, dumpiest chuggery on the entire album. Without compromising the scope of its songwriting, Weeping Sores have crafted a tighter, better-paced album than the debut.

False Confession stans might weep when learning that the violin of Gina Hendrika Eygenhuysen does not appear on The Convalescence Agonies. In its place is the cello of Annie Blythe, which directs a broader ensemble of ancillary instrumentation. Like Eygenhuysen’s violin, Blythe’s cello often occupies center stage, dramatizing sparse verses (“Arctic Summer”) and blasty tremolos (“The Convalescence Agonies”). Arguably, the deeper tone of the cello better suits the music, feeling like an extension of the scooped guitar tone. Weeping Sores also incorporate keyboards from Brendon Randall-Myers (Scarcity), which add a refined, almost proggy aura to caveman breakdowns and hyperspeed chugging (“Pleading for the Scythe”). There’s even banjo in “Sprawl…,” commingling with Blythe’s percussive cello to make a demented guitar lead far more unsettling.2 Some listeners will miss the brighter, more melodically commanding presence of the violin. The Convalescence Agonies more than makes up for Eygenhuysen’s absence, however, with its wider array of sonic textures.

As Moore howls on the title track, the body’s pain ‘teaches nothing…no gift / But the passion of transfiguration.’3 Pain may not teach anything to the suffering speaker or Moore himself, but The Convalescence Agonies teaches us that Weepings Sores is one of the most promising contemporary death-doom projects. Moore and Schwegler have transfigured False Confession into something more beautiful without sacrificing their disgustingly awesome death metal core. Sadly, this TYMHM treatment may not arrive in time to register during Listurnalia. Consider, then, The Convalescence Agonies an honorary Honorable Mention for me (and several others around here, I suspect).

Tracks to Check Out: “Arctic Summer,” “Sprawl in the City of Sorrow,” “The Convalescence Agonies”

#2025 #DeathDoom #DeathMetal #DoomMetal #IVoidhangerRecords #MorbidAngel #MyDyingBride #Pyrrhon #Scarcity #TheConvalescenceAgonies #ThingsYouMightHaveMissed2025 #TYMHM #USMetal #WeepingSores

Weeping Sores – The Convalescence Agonies [Things You Might Have Missed 2025]

By Creeping Ivy

Pleasure—as Judas Priest, sadomasochists, and Flagellants teach us—can be found in pain. Doug Moore and Stephen Schwegler, the guitar/drum duo behind Weeping Sores, also teach this lesson with The Convalescence Agonies. As its title suggests, the sophomore Weeping Sores album chronicles Moore’s recovery from a shoulder injury that, quite unfortunately, prevented him from playing guitar.1 Quite fortunately for us, Moore sublimates his agony into the listener’s ecstasy with The Convalescence Agonies. Debut False Confession received high praise here, making the 2019 lists of Saunders (Honorable Mention), Cherd of Doom (#8), and Ferrous Beuller (#4). On its follow-up, Weeping Sores deliver a leaner, lusher, and eminently listable slab of death-doom.

On The Convalescence Agonies, Weeping Sores level up by scaling back. False Confession established that Moore and Schwegler of Pyrrhon fame could successfully craft a more plodding, brooding death metal, sounding like Morbid Angel making proclamations to My Dying Bride. At 56 minutes with multiple 9- and 10-minute songs, however, the album definitely fatigues. In comparison, The Convalescence Agonies clocks in at 43 minutes, energizing the listener by lurking towards its epic compositions. Moore’s climbing guitar and anguished screams in “Arctic Summer” segue into “Empty Vessel Hymn,” a heater showcasing Schwegler’s jazzy hands. The mid-album climax, “Sprawl in the City of Sorrow,” spreads chunky, blasty, and militaristic riffs across 9 breezy minutes. “Pleading for the Scythe” mixes delicate chords, lumbering beatdowns, and off-kilter shredding, setting the stage for the title track. “The Convalescence Agonies,” a 14-minute monster, boasts the stankiest, dumpiest chuggery on the entire album. Without compromising the scope of its songwriting, Weeping Sores have crafted a tighter, better-paced album than the debut.

False Confession stans might weep when learning that the violin of Gina Hendrika Eygenhuysen does not appear on The Convalescence Agonies. In its place is the cello of Annie Blythe, which directs a broader ensemble of ancillary instrumentation. Like Eygenhuysen’s violin, Blythe’s cello often occupies center stage, dramatizing sparse verses (“Arctic Summer”) and blasty tremolos (“The Convalescence Agonies”). Arguably, the deeper tone of the cello better suits the music, feeling like an extension of the scooped guitar tone. Weeping Sores also incorporate keyboards from Brendon Randall-Myers (Scarcity), which add a refined, almost proggy aura to caveman breakdowns and hyperspeed chugging (“Pleading for the Scythe”). There’s even banjo in “Sprawl…,” commingling with Blythe’s percussive cello to make a demented guitar lead far more unsettling.2 Some listeners will miss the brighter, more melodically commanding presence of the violin. The Convalescence Agonies more than makes up for Eygenhuysen’s absence, however, with its wider array of sonic textures.

As Moore howls on the title track, the body’s pain ‘teaches nothing…no gift / But the passion of transfiguration.’3 Pain may not teach anything to the suffering speaker or Moore himself, but The Convalescence Agonies teaches us that Weepings Sores is one of the most promising contemporary death-doom projects. Moore and Schwegler have transfigured False Confession into something more beautiful without sacrificing their disgustingly awesome death metal core. Sadly, this TYMHM treatment may not arrive in time to register during Listurnalia. Consider, then, The Convalescence Agonies an honorary Honorable Mention for me (and several others around here, I suspect).

Tracks to Check Out: “Arctic Summer,” “Sprawl in the City of Sorrow,” “The Convalescence Agonies”

#2025 #DeathDoom #DeathMetal #DoomMetal #IVoidhangerRecords #MorbidAngel #MyDyingBride #Pyrrhon #Scarcity #TheConvalescenceAgonies #ThingsYouMightHaveMissed2025 #TYMHM #USMetal #WeepingSores

Weeping Sores – The Convalescence Agonies [Things You Might Have Missed 2025]

By Creeping Ivy

Pleasure—as Judas Priest, sadomasochists, and Flagellants teach us—can be found in pain. Doug Moore and Stephen Schwegler, the guitar/drum duo behind Weeping Sores, also teach this lesson with The Convalescence Agonies. As its title suggests, the sophomore Weeping Sores album chronicles Moore’s recovery from a shoulder injury that, quite unfortunately, prevented him from playing guitar.1 Quite fortunately for us, Moore sublimates his agony into the listener’s ecstasy with The Convalescence Agonies. Debut False Confession received high praise here, making the 2019 lists of Saunders (Honorable Mention), Cherd of Doom (#8), and Ferrous Beuller (#4). On its follow-up, Weeping Sores deliver a leaner, lusher, and eminently listable slab of death-doom.

On The Convalescence Agonies, Weeping Sores level up by scaling back. False Confession established that Moore and Schwegler of Pyrrhon fame could successfully craft a more plodding, brooding death metal, sounding like Morbid Angel making proclamations to My Dying Bride. At 56 minutes with multiple 9- and 10-minute songs, however, the album definitely fatigues. In comparison, The Convalescence Agonies clocks in at 43 minutes, energizing the listener by lurking towards its epic compositions. Moore’s climbing guitar and anguished screams in “Arctic Summer” segue into “Empty Vessel Hymn,” a heater showcasing Schwegler’s jazzy hands. The mid-album climax, “Sprawl in the City of Sorrow,” spreads chunky, blasty, and militaristic riffs across 9 breezy minutes. “Pleading for the Scythe” mixes delicate chords, lumbering beatdowns, and off-kilter shredding, setting the stage for the title track. “The Convalescence Agonies,” a 14-minute monster, boasts the stankiest, dumpiest chuggery on the entire album. Without compromising the scope of its songwriting, Weeping Sores have crafted a tighter, better-paced album than the debut.

False Confession stans might weep when learning that the violin of Gina Hendrika Eygenhuysen does not appear on The Convalescence Agonies. In its place is the cello of Annie Blythe, which directs a broader ensemble of ancillary instrumentation. Like Eygenhuysen’s violin, Blythe’s cello often occupies center stage, dramatizing sparse verses (“Arctic Summer”) and blasty tremolos (“The Convalescence Agonies”). Arguably, the deeper tone of the cello better suits the music, feeling like an extension of the scooped guitar tone. Weeping Sores also incorporate keyboards from Brendon Randall-Myers (Scarcity), which add a refined, almost proggy aura to caveman breakdowns and hyperspeed chugging (“Pleading for the Scythe”). There’s even banjo in “Sprawl…,” commingling with Blythe’s percussive cello to make a demented guitar lead far more unsettling.2 Some listeners will miss the brighter, more melodically commanding presence of the violin. The Convalescence Agonies more than makes up for Eygenhuysen’s absence, however, with its wider array of sonic textures.

As Moore howls on the title track, the body’s pain ‘teaches nothing…no gift / But the passion of transfiguration.’3 Pain may not teach anything to the suffering speaker or Moore himself, but The Convalescence Agonies teaches us that Weepings Sores is one of the most promising contemporary death-doom projects. Moore and Schwegler have transfigured False Confession into something more beautiful without sacrificing their disgustingly awesome death metal core. Sadly, this TYMHM treatment may not arrive in time to register during Listurnalia. Consider, then, The Convalescence Agonies an honorary Honorable Mention for me (and several others around here, I suspect).

Tracks to Check Out: “Arctic Summer,” “Sprawl in the City of Sorrow,” “The Convalescence Agonies”

#2025 #DeathDoom #DeathMetal #DoomMetal #IVoidhangerRecords #MorbidAngel #MyDyingBride #Pyrrhon #Scarcity #TheConvalescenceAgonies #ThingsYouMightHaveMissed2025 #TYMHM #USMetal #WeepingSores

Weeping Sores – The Convalescence Agonies [Things You Might Have Missed 2025]

By Creeping Ivy

Pleasure—as Judas Priest, sadomasochists, and Flagellants teach us—can be found in pain. Doug Moore and Stephen Schwegler, the guitar/drum duo behind Weeping Sores, also teach this lesson with The Convalescence Agonies. As its title suggests, the sophomore Weeping Sores album chronicles Moore’s recovery from a shoulder injury that, quite unfortunately, prevented him from playing guitar.1 Quite fortunately for us, Moore sublimates his agony into the listener’s ecstasy with The Convalescence Agonies. Debut False Confession received high praise here, making the 2019 lists of Saunders (Honorable Mention), Cherd of Doom (#8), and Ferrous Beuller (#4). On its follow-up, Weeping Sores deliver a leaner, lusher, and eminently listable slab of death-doom.

On The Convalescence Agonies, Weeping Sores level up by scaling back. False Confession established that Moore and Schwegler of Pyrrhon fame could successfully craft a more plodding, brooding death metal, sounding like Morbid Angel making proclamations to My Dying Bride. At 56 minutes with multiple 9- and 10-minute songs, however, the album definitely fatigues. In comparison, The Convalescence Agonies clocks in at 43 minutes, energizing the listener by lurking towards its epic compositions. Moore’s climbing guitar and anguished screams in “Arctic Summer” segue into “Empty Vessel Hymn,” a heater showcasing Schwegler’s jazzy hands. The mid-album climax, “Sprawl in the City of Sorrow,” spreads chunky, blasty, and militaristic riffs across 9 breezy minutes. “Pleading for the Scythe” mixes delicate chords, lumbering beatdowns, and off-kilter shredding, setting the stage for the title track. “The Convalescence Agonies,” a 14-minute monster, boasts the stankiest, dumpiest chuggery on the entire album. Without compromising the scope of its songwriting, Weeping Sores have crafted a tighter, better-paced album than the debut.

False Confession stans might weep when learning that the violin of Gina Hendrika Eygenhuysen does not appear on The Convalescence Agonies. In its place is the cello of Annie Blythe, which directs a broader ensemble of ancillary instrumentation. Like Eygenhuysen’s violin, Blythe’s cello often occupies center stage, dramatizing sparse verses (“Arctic Summer”) and blasty tremolos (“The Convalescence Agonies”). Arguably, the deeper tone of the cello better suits the music, feeling like an extension of the scooped guitar tone. Weeping Sores also incorporate keyboards from Brendon Randall-Myers (Scarcity), which add a refined, almost proggy aura to caveman breakdowns and hyperspeed chugging (“Pleading for the Scythe”). There’s even banjo in “Sprawl…,” commingling with Blythe’s percussive cello to make a demented guitar lead far more unsettling.2 Some listeners will miss the brighter, more melodically commanding presence of the violin. The Convalescence Agonies more than makes up for Eygenhuysen’s absence, however, with its wider array of sonic textures.

As Moore howls on the title track, the body’s pain ‘teaches nothing…no gift / But the passion of transfiguration.’3 Pain may not teach anything to the suffering speaker or Moore himself, but The Convalescence Agonies teaches us that Weepings Sores is one of the most promising contemporary death-doom projects. Moore and Schwegler have transfigured False Confession into something more beautiful without sacrificing their disgustingly awesome death metal core. Sadly, this TYMHM treatment may not arrive in time to register during Listurnalia. Consider, then, The Convalescence Agonies an honorary Honorable Mention for me (and several others around here, I suspect).

Tracks to Check Out: “Arctic Summer,” “Sprawl in the City of Sorrow,” “The Convalescence Agonies”

#2025 #DeathDoom #DeathMetal #DoomMetal #IVoidhangerRecords #MorbidAngel #MyDyingBride #Pyrrhon #Scarcity #TheConvalescenceAgonies #ThingsYouMightHaveMissed2025 #TYMHM #USMetal #WeepingSores

Weeping Sores – The Convalescence Agonies [Things You Might Have Missed 2025]

By Creeping Ivy

Pleasure—as Judas Priest, sadomasochists, and Flagellants teach us—can be found in pain. Doug Moore and Stephen Schwegler, the guitar/drum duo behind Weeping Sores, also teach this lesson with The Convalescence Agonies. As its title suggests, the sophomore Weeping Sores album chronicles Moore’s recovery from a shoulder injury that, quite unfortunately, prevented him from playing guitar.1 Quite fortunately for us, Moore sublimates his agony into the listener’s ecstasy with The Convalescence Agonies. Debut False Confession received high praise here, making the 2019 lists of Saunders (Honorable Mention), Cherd of Doom (#8), and Ferrous Beuller (#4). On its follow-up, Weeping Sores deliver a leaner, lusher, and eminently listable slab of death-doom.

On The Convalescence Agonies, Weeping Sores level up by scaling back. False Confession established that Moore and Schwegler of Pyrrhon fame could successfully craft a more plodding, brooding death metal, sounding like Morbid Angel making proclamations to My Dying Bride. At 56 minutes with multiple 9- and 10-minute songs, however, the album definitely fatigues. In comparison, The Convalescence Agonies clocks in at 43 minutes, energizing the listener by lurking towards its epic compositions. Moore’s climbing guitar and anguished screams in “Arctic Summer” segue into “Empty Vessel Hymn,” a heater showcasing Schwegler’s jazzy hands. The mid-album climax, “Sprawl in the City of Sorrow,” spreads chunky, blasty, and militaristic riffs across 9 breezy minutes. “Pleading for the Scythe” mixes delicate chords, lumbering beatdowns, and off-kilter shredding, setting the stage for the title track. “The Convalescence Agonies,” a 14-minute monster, boasts the stankiest, dumpiest chuggery on the entire album. Without compromising the scope of its songwriting, Weeping Sores have crafted a tighter, better-paced album than the debut.

False Confession stans might weep when learning that the violin of Gina Hendrika Eygenhuysen does not appear on The Convalescence Agonies. In its place is the cello of Annie Blythe, which directs a broader ensemble of ancillary instrumentation. Like Eygenhuysen’s violin, Blythe’s cello often occupies center stage, dramatizing sparse verses (“Arctic Summer”) and blasty tremolos (“The Convalescence Agonies”). Arguably, the deeper tone of the cello better suits the music, feeling like an extension of the scooped guitar tone. Weeping Sores also incorporate keyboards from Brendon Randall-Myers (Scarcity), which add a refined, almost proggy aura to caveman breakdowns and hyperspeed chugging (“Pleading for the Scythe”). There’s even banjo in “Sprawl…,” commingling with Blythe’s percussive cello to make a demented guitar lead far more unsettling.2 Some listeners will miss the brighter, more melodically commanding presence of the violin. The Convalescence Agonies more than makes up for Eygenhuysen’s absence, however, with its wider array of sonic textures.

As Moore howls on the title track, the body’s pain ‘teaches nothing…no gift / But the passion of transfiguration.’3 Pain may not teach anything to the suffering speaker or Moore himself, but The Convalescence Agonies teaches us that Weepings Sores is one of the most promising contemporary death-doom projects. Moore and Schwegler have transfigured False Confession into something more beautiful without sacrificing their disgustingly awesome death metal core. Sadly, this TYMHM treatment may not arrive in time to register during Listurnalia. Consider, then, The Convalescence Agonies an honorary Honorable Mention for me (and several others around here, I suspect).

Tracks to Check Out: “Arctic Summer,” “Sprawl in the City of Sorrow,” “The Convalescence Agonies”

#2025 #DeathDoom #DeathMetal #DoomMetal #IVoidhangerRecords #MorbidAngel #MyDyingBride #Pyrrhon #Scarcity #TheConvalescenceAgonies #ThingsYouMightHaveMissed2025 #TYMHM #USMetal #WeepingSores

Defigurement – Endbryo Review

By Grin Reaper

Defigurement’s debut album Endbryo is classified as experimental deathgrind, and though that’s accurate, it doesn’t fully capture what’s on tap. Endbryo is an album in constant flux, never content to lock into one vibe for too long. While experimental, Defigurement still adheres to grindcore’s brutal core tenets: short songs and unfettered aggression. Their sound isn’t limited to just these things, though, as Defigurement adopts crackerjack technicality that contrasts with the blunt drubbing associated with much of the subgenre. Varied paces and some unconventional instrumentation further heighten Endbryo’s unorthodox approach. Dissonant bleats, melodic leads, blast beats, and key-heavy interludes create an engaging atmosphere. Yet it takes more than a wide-ranging assortment of sounds and ideas to fashion an album.

With so many ingredients to unite, you may wonder what Defigurement actually sounds like. Gridlink’s Coronet Juniper, Full of Hell’s Coagulated Bliss, and Beaten to Death’s Sunrise over Rigor Mortis provide apt reference points. These albums imbue deceptively melodic hooks into grindcore’s caustic backdrop, a convention perpetuated on Endbryo. Gridlink’s own Takafumi Matsubara even appears on “Wounded Landscape,” imparting gorgeously malicious riffs. In addition to grindcore influences, Defigurement pays homage to System of a Down via the “Suite Pee”-tinged intro of “Shogun of Sorrow” and the Slayer “Rain in Blood” gallop heard in “Wounded Landscape.” Rather than aping these acts, though, Defigurement forges a stank all their own. Chaos is the name of the game, but not all of it is funneled through uniform, full-tilt abuse. Endbryo’s half-hour pumps blood and rhythm through sixteen tracks, featuring constant shifts in tempos and moods that make the music feel alive and unpredictable. The album is jam-packed with so many morsels that even after dozens of listens, I’m still discovering new details.

Conceiving such a diverse and layered soundscape requires heaps of vitality and musicianship, and Defigurement steps up to answer the challenge. From Mike Heller’s (Changeling, Azure Emote, ex-Fear Factory) atom-blasting drums to Kevin Fetus’s snaking leads and D.M.T.’s gritty bass, Endbryo brims with relentless vigor. Heller’s drum performance in particular elevates Defigurement’s character. Juggling blast beats, disco hi-hat frills (“Open Veins, Visceral Tapestry”), and jazzy phrasing (“We Are the Worst”) shouldn’t be this seamless, yet Heller’s nimble work provides the engine for the album’s mélange of styles. Rounding out the rhythm section, D.M.T.’s meaty bass grumbles and grooves in support, and a couple of intros even throw the spotlight on his throaty purr (“Wounded Landscape,” “Godtopsy”). Guitars attack from every direction, utilizing trem-picked blitzes (“Burnt by the Truth”), plaintive wails (“We Are the Worst”), and glossy shredding (“Godtopsy”). Matthias Joyce’s vocals are capable and versatile, sitting far enough back in the mix that they mesh smoothly with the music rather than overpowering it. Besides Matsubara, several other guests pop in, including Brian Hopp (Cephalic Carnage) and Leon Del Muerte (Impaled, ex-Nails). Endbryo boasts a potpourri of talent, and this bouquet reeks of grind beef.

Endbryo sounds great, even though some moments don’t effortlessly converge. Subgenres like grindcore don’t need much auditory contrast to be effective, but Endbryo boasts a DR7 anyway, benefiting the complex structure of its tracks. The finely-tuned mix allows listeners to appreciate the nuances of the performances within, notably the drumming; a lesser production could have obfuscated Heller’s unhinged sticksmanship. My only complaint is that with such a dense album, Defigurement doesn’t quite achieve the cohesion needed to stitch all of Endbryo’s fragments together. Piano-only interlude “Eternal Dusk” is a beautiful instrumental featured about halfway through. It allows you to take a breath before re-entering the maelstrom, but foreshadowing the melody earlier or including piano elsewhere would have strengthened its inclusion. Similarly, “Left in a Cold Rain” contains slowly swirling synths played under a distorted voice-over. Once again, this skillfully navigates the album’s pacing, but without more tethers to other tracks, it feels isolated from its surroundings. Despite these small shortcomings, Endbryo scores a resounding success.

Defigurement pulls no punches on Endbryo, hewing a slab of great experimental deathgrind. Their ferocity is bruising and their vision unyielding, and it’s rare I encounter music that demands so many repeated spins. This platter is captivating, and each time I think I have Endbryo figured out, the next listen corrects that notion. So many ideas loaded into thirty minutes might seem daunting, but Defigurement expertly balances intrigue and digestibility. Assuming Endbryo is only the beginning, I’ll wait on the edge of my seat to hear how the band’s sound develops.

Rating: Great
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Nefarious Industries
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: October 17th, 2025

#2025 #40 #BeatenToDeath #DeathGrind #DeathMetal #Deathgrind #Defigurement #Endbryo #ExperimentalDeathMetal #ExperimentalDeathgrind #FullOfHell #Gridlink #Grind #NefariousIndustries #Oct25 #Review #Reviews #Slayer #SystemOfADown #USMetal

Defigurement – Endbryo Review

By Grin Reaper

Defigurement’s debut album Endbryo is classified as experimental deathgrind, and though that’s accurate, it doesn’t fully capture what’s on tap. Endbryo is an album in constant flux, never content to lock into one vibe for too long. While experimental, Defigurement still adheres to grindcore’s brutal core tenets: short songs and unfettered aggression. Their sound isn’t limited to just these things, though, as Defigurement adopts crackerjack technicality that contrasts with the blunt drubbing associated with much of the subgenre. Varied paces and some unconventional instrumentation further heighten Endbryo’s unorthodox approach. Dissonant bleats, melodic leads, blast beats, and key-heavy interludes create an engaging atmosphere. Yet it takes more than a wide-ranging assortment of sounds and ideas to fashion an album.

With so many ingredients to unite, you may wonder what Defigurement actually sounds like. Gridlink’s Coronet Juniper, Full of Hell’s Coagulated Bliss, and Beaten to Death’s Sunrise over Rigor Mortis provide apt reference points. These albums imbue deceptively melodic hooks into grindcore’s caustic backdrop, a convention perpetuated on Endbryo. Gridlink’s own Takafumi Matsubara even appears on “Wounded Landscape,” imparting gorgeously malicious riffs. In addition to grindcore influences, Defigurement pays homage to System of a Down via the “Suite Pee”-tinged intro of “Shogun of Sorrow” and the Slayer “Rain in Blood” gallop heard in “Wounded Landscape.” Rather than aping these acts, though, Defigurement forges a stank all their own. Chaos is the name of the game, but not all of it is funneled through uniform, full-tilt abuse. Endbryo’s half-hour pumps blood and rhythm through sixteen tracks, featuring constant shifts in tempos and moods that make the music feel alive and unpredictable. The album is jam-packed with so many morsels that even after dozens of listens, I’m still discovering new details.

Conceiving such a diverse and layered soundscape requires heaps of vitality and musicianship, and Defigurement steps up to answer the challenge. From Mike Heller’s (Changeling, Azure Emote, ex-Fear Factory) atom-blasting drums to Kevin Fetus’s snaking leads and D.M.T.’s gritty bass, Endbryo brims with relentless vigor. Heller’s drum performance in particular elevates Defigurement’s character. Juggling blast beats, disco hi-hat frills (“Open Veins, Visceral Tapestry”), and jazzy phrasing (“We Are the Worst”) shouldn’t be this seamless, yet Heller’s nimble work provides the engine for the album’s mélange of styles. Rounding out the rhythm section, D.M.T.’s meaty bass grumbles and grooves in support, and a couple of intros even throw the spotlight on his throaty purr (“Wounded Landscape,” “Godtopsy”). Guitars attack from every direction, utilizing trem-picked blitzes (“Burnt by the Truth”), plaintive wails (“We Are the Worst”), and glossy shredding (“Godtopsy”). Matthias Joyce’s vocals are capable and versatile, sitting far enough back in the mix that they mesh smoothly with the music rather than overpowering it. Besides Matsubara, several other guests pop in, including Brian Hopp (Cephalic Carnage) and Leon Del Muerte (Impaled, ex-Nails). Endbryo boasts a potpourri of talent, and this bouquet reeks of grind beef.

Endbryo sounds great, even though some moments don’t effortlessly converge. Subgenres like grindcore don’t need much auditory contrast to be effective, but Endbryo boasts a DR7 anyway, benefiting the complex structure of its tracks. The finely-tuned mix allows listeners to appreciate the nuances of the performances within, notably the drumming; a lesser production could have obfuscated Heller’s unhinged sticksmanship. My only complaint is that with such a dense album, Defigurement doesn’t quite achieve the cohesion needed to stitch all of Endbryo’s fragments together. Piano-only interlude “Eternal Dusk” is a beautiful instrumental featured about halfway through. It allows you to take a breath before re-entering the maelstrom, but foreshadowing the melody earlier or including piano elsewhere would have strengthened its inclusion. Similarly, “Left in a Cold Rain” contains slowly swirling synths played under a distorted voice-over. Once again, this skillfully navigates the album’s pacing, but without more tethers to other tracks, it feels isolated from its surroundings. Despite these small shortcomings, Endbryo scores a resounding success.

Defigurement pulls no punches on Endbryo, hewing a slab of great experimental deathgrind. Their ferocity is bruising and their vision unyielding, and it’s rare I encounter music that demands so many repeated spins. This platter is captivating, and each time I think I have Endbryo figured out, the next listen corrects that notion. So many ideas loaded into thirty minutes might seem daunting, but Defigurement expertly balances intrigue and digestibility. Assuming Endbryo is only the beginning, I’ll wait on the edge of my seat to hear how the band’s sound develops.

Rating: Great
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Nefarious Industries
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: October 17th, 2025

#2025 #40 #BeatenToDeath #DeathGrind #DeathMetal #Deathgrind #Defigurement #Endbryo #ExperimentalDeathMetal #ExperimentalDeathgrind #FullOfHell #Gridlink #Grind #NefariousIndustries #Oct25 #Review #Reviews #Slayer #SystemOfADown #USMetal

Defigurement – Endbryo Review

By Grin Reaper

Defigurement’s debut album Endbryo is classified as experimental deathgrind, and though that’s accurate, it doesn’t fully capture what’s on tap. Endbryo is an album in constant flux, never content to lock into one vibe for too long. While experimental, Defigurement still adheres to grindcore’s brutal core tenets: short songs and unfettered aggression. Their sound isn’t limited to just these things, though, as Defigurement adopts crackerjack technicality that contrasts with the blunt drubbing associated with much of the subgenre. Varied paces and some unconventional instrumentation further heighten Endbryo’s unorthodox approach. Dissonant bleats, melodic leads, blast beats, and key-heavy interludes create an engaging atmosphere. Yet it takes more than a wide-ranging assortment of sounds and ideas to fashion an album.

With so many ingredients to unite, you may wonder what Defigurement actually sounds like. Gridlink’s Coronet Juniper, Full of Hell’s Coagulated Bliss, and Beaten to Death’s Sunrise over Rigor Mortis provide apt reference points. These albums imbue deceptively melodic hooks into grindcore’s caustic backdrop, a convention perpetuated on Endbryo. Gridlink’s own Takafumi Matsubara even appears on “Wounded Landscape,” imparting gorgeously malicious riffs. In addition to grindcore influences, Defigurement pays homage to System of a Down via the “Suite Pee”-tinged intro of “Shogun of Sorrow” and the Slayer “Rain in Blood” gallop heard in “Wounded Landscape.” Rather than aping these acts, though, Defigurement forges a stank all their own. Chaos is the name of the game, but not all of it is funneled through uniform, full-tilt abuse. Endbryo’s half-hour pumps blood and rhythm through sixteen tracks, featuring constant shifts in tempos and moods that make the music feel alive and unpredictable. The album is jam-packed with so many morsels that even after dozens of listens, I’m still discovering new details.

Conceiving such a diverse and layered soundscape requires heaps of vitality and musicianship, and Defigurement steps up to answer the challenge. From Mike Heller’s (Changeling, Azure Emote, ex-Fear Factory) atom-blasting drums to Kevin Fetus’s snaking leads and D.M.T.’s gritty bass, Endbryo brims with relentless vigor. Heller’s drum performance in particular elevates Defigurement’s character. Juggling blast beats, disco hi-hat frills (“Open Veins, Visceral Tapestry”), and jazzy phrasing (“We Are the Worst”) shouldn’t be this seamless, yet Heller’s nimble work provides the engine for the album’s mélange of styles. Rounding out the rhythm section, D.M.T.’s meaty bass grumbles and grooves in support, and a couple of intros even throw the spotlight on his throaty purr (“Wounded Landscape,” “Godtopsy”). Guitars attack from every direction, utilizing trem-picked blitzes (“Burnt by the Truth”), plaintive wails (“We Are the Worst”), and glossy shredding (“Godtopsy”). Matthias Joyce’s vocals are capable and versatile, sitting far enough back in the mix that they mesh smoothly with the music rather than overpowering it. Besides Matsubara, several other guests pop in, including Brian Hopp (Cephalic Carnage) and Leon Del Muerte (Impaled, ex-Nails). Endbryo boasts a potpourri of talent, and this bouquet reeks of grind beef.

Endbryo sounds great, even though some moments don’t effortlessly converge. Subgenres like grindcore don’t need much auditory contrast to be effective, but Endbryo boasts a DR7 anyway, benefiting the complex structure of its tracks. The finely-tuned mix allows listeners to appreciate the nuances of the performances within, notably the drumming; a lesser production could have obfuscated Heller’s unhinged sticksmanship. My only complaint is that with such a dense album, Defigurement doesn’t quite achieve the cohesion needed to stitch all of Endbryo’s fragments together. Piano-only interlude “Eternal Dusk” is a beautiful instrumental featured about halfway through. It allows you to take a breath before re-entering the maelstrom, but foreshadowing the melody earlier or including piano elsewhere would have strengthened its inclusion. Similarly, “Left in a Cold Rain” contains slowly swirling synths played under a distorted voice-over. Once again, this skillfully navigates the album’s pacing, but without more tethers to other tracks, it feels isolated from its surroundings. Despite these small shortcomings, Endbryo scores a resounding success.

Defigurement pulls no punches on Endbryo, hewing a slab of great experimental deathgrind. Their ferocity is bruising and their vision unyielding, and it’s rare I encounter music that demands so many repeated spins. This platter is captivating, and each time I think I have Endbryo figured out, the next listen corrects that notion. So many ideas loaded into thirty minutes might seem daunting, but Defigurement expertly balances intrigue and digestibility. Assuming Endbryo is only the beginning, I’ll wait on the edge of my seat to hear how the band’s sound develops.

Rating: Great
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Nefarious Industries
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: October 17th, 2025

#2025 #40 #BeatenToDeath #DeathGrind #DeathMetal #Deathgrind #Defigurement #Endbryo #ExperimentalDeathMetal #ExperimentalDeathgrind #FullOfHell #Gridlink #Grind #NefariousIndustries #Oct25 #Review #Reviews #Slayer #SystemOfADown #USMetal

Defigurement – Endbryo Review

By Grin Reaper

Defigurement’s debut album Endbryo is classified as experimental deathgrind, and though that’s accurate, it doesn’t fully capture what’s on tap. Endbryo is an album in constant flux, never content to lock into one vibe for too long. While experimental, Defigurement still adheres to grindcore’s brutal core tenets: short songs and unfettered aggression. Their sound isn’t limited to just these things, though, as Defigurement adopts crackerjack technicality that contrasts with the blunt drubbing associated with much of the subgenre. Varied paces and some unconventional instrumentation further heighten Endbryo’s unorthodox approach. Dissonant bleats, melodic leads, blast beats, and key-heavy interludes create an engaging atmosphere. Yet it takes more than a wide-ranging assortment of sounds and ideas to fashion an album.

With so many ingredients to unite, you may wonder what Defigurement actually sounds like. Gridlink’s Coronet Juniper, Full of Hell’s Coagulated Bliss, and Beaten to Death’s Sunrise over Rigor Mortis provide apt reference points. These albums imbue deceptively melodic hooks into grindcore’s caustic backdrop, a convention perpetuated on Endbryo. Gridlink’s own Takafumi Matsubara even appears on “Wounded Landscape,” imparting gorgeously malicious riffs. In addition to grindcore influences, Defigurement pays homage to System of a Down via the “Suite Pee”-tinged intro of “Shogun of Sorrow” and the Slayer “Rain in Blood” gallop heard in “Wounded Landscape.” Rather than aping these acts, though, Defigurement forges a stank all their own. Chaos is the name of the game, but not all of it is funneled through uniform, full-tilt abuse. Endbryo’s half-hour pumps blood and rhythm through sixteen tracks, featuring constant shifts in tempos and moods that make the music feel alive and unpredictable. The album is jam-packed with so many morsels that even after dozens of listens, I’m still discovering new details.

Conceiving such a diverse and layered soundscape requires heaps of vitality and musicianship, and Defigurement steps up to answer the challenge. From Mike Heller’s (Changeling, Azure Emote, ex-Fear Factory) atom-blasting drums to Kevin Fetus’s snaking leads and D.M.T.’s gritty bass, Endbryo brims with relentless vigor. Heller’s drum performance in particular elevates Defigurement’s character. Juggling blast beats, disco hi-hat frills (“Open Veins, Visceral Tapestry”), and jazzy phrasing (“We Are the Worst”) shouldn’t be this seamless, yet Heller’s nimble work provides the engine for the album’s mélange of styles. Rounding out the rhythm section, D.M.T.’s meaty bass grumbles and grooves in support, and a couple of intros even throw the spotlight on his throaty purr (“Wounded Landscape,” “Godtopsy”). Guitars attack from every direction, utilizing trem-picked blitzes (“Burnt by the Truth”), plaintive wails (“We Are the Worst”), and glossy shredding (“Godtopsy”). Matthias Joyce’s vocals are capable and versatile, sitting far enough back in the mix that they mesh smoothly with the music rather than overpowering it. Besides Matsubara, several other guests pop in, including Brian Hopp (Cephalic Carnage) and Leon Del Muerte (Impaled, ex-Nails). Endbryo boasts a potpourri of talent, and this bouquet reeks of grind beef.

Endbryo sounds great, even though some moments don’t effortlessly converge. Subgenres like grindcore don’t need much auditory contrast to be effective, but Endbryo boasts a DR7 anyway, benefiting the complex structure of its tracks. The finely-tuned mix allows listeners to appreciate the nuances of the performances within, notably the drumming; a lesser production could have obfuscated Heller’s unhinged sticksmanship. My only complaint is that with such a dense album, Defigurement doesn’t quite achieve the cohesion needed to stitch all of Endbryo’s fragments together. Piano-only interlude “Eternal Dusk” is a beautiful instrumental featured about halfway through. It allows you to take a breath before re-entering the maelstrom, but foreshadowing the melody earlier or including piano elsewhere would have strengthened its inclusion. Similarly, “Left in a Cold Rain” contains slowly swirling synths played under a distorted voice-over. Once again, this skillfully navigates the album’s pacing, but without more tethers to other tracks, it feels isolated from its surroundings. Despite these small shortcomings, Endbryo scores a resounding success.

Defigurement pulls no punches on Endbryo, hewing a slab of great experimental deathgrind. Their ferocity is bruising and their vision unyielding, and it’s rare I encounter music that demands so many repeated spins. This platter is captivating, and each time I think I have Endbryo figured out, the next listen corrects that notion. So many ideas loaded into thirty minutes might seem daunting, but Defigurement expertly balances intrigue and digestibility. Assuming Endbryo is only the beginning, I’ll wait on the edge of my seat to hear how the band’s sound develops.

Rating: Great
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Nefarious Industries
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: October 17th, 2025

#2025 #40 #BeatenToDeath #DeathGrind #DeathMetal #Deathgrind #Defigurement #Endbryo #ExperimentalDeathMetal #ExperimentalDeathgrind #FullOfHell #Gridlink #Grind #NefariousIndustries #Oct25 #Review #Reviews #Slayer #SystemOfADown #USMetal

Defigurement – Endbryo Review

By Grin Reaper

Defigurement’s debut album Endbryo is classified as experimental deathgrind, and though that’s accurate, it doesn’t fully capture what’s on tap. Endbryo is an album in constant flux, never content to lock into one vibe for too long. While experimental, Defigurement still adheres to grindcore’s brutal core tenets: short songs and unfettered aggression. Their sound isn’t limited to just these things, though, as Defigurement adopts crackerjack technicality that contrasts with the blunt drubbing associated with much of the subgenre. Varied paces and some unconventional instrumentation further heighten Endbryo’s unorthodox approach. Dissonant bleats, melodic leads, blast beats, and key-heavy interludes create an engaging atmosphere. Yet it takes more than a wide-ranging assortment of sounds and ideas to fashion an album.

With so many ingredients to unite, you may wonder what Defigurement actually sounds like. Gridlink’s Coronet Juniper, Full of Hell’s Coagulated Bliss, and Beaten to Death’s Sunrise over Rigor Mortis provide apt reference points. These albums imbue deceptively melodic hooks into grindcore’s caustic backdrop, a convention perpetuated on Endbryo. Gridlink’s own Takafumi Matsubara even appears on “Wounded Landscape,” imparting gorgeously malicious riffs. In addition to grindcore influences, Defigurement pays homage to System of a Down via the “Suite Pee”-tinged intro of “Shogun of Sorrow” and the Slayer “Rain in Blood” gallop heard in “Wounded Landscape.” Rather than aping these acts, though, Defigurement forges a stank all their own. Chaos is the name of the game, but not all of it is funneled through uniform, full-tilt abuse. Endbryo’s half-hour pumps blood and rhythm through sixteen tracks, featuring constant shifts in tempos and moods that make the music feel alive and unpredictable. The album is jam-packed with so many morsels that even after dozens of listens, I’m still discovering new details.

Conceiving such a diverse and layered soundscape requires heaps of vitality and musicianship, and Defigurement steps up to answer the challenge. From Mike Heller’s (Changeling, Azure Emote, ex-Fear Factory) atom-blasting drums to Kevin Fetus’s snaking leads and D.M.T.’s gritty bass, Endbryo brims with relentless vigor. Heller’s drum performance in particular elevates Defigurement’s character. Juggling blast beats, disco hi-hat frills (“Open Veins, Visceral Tapestry”), and jazzy phrasing (“We Are the Worst”) shouldn’t be this seamless, yet Heller’s nimble work provides the engine for the album’s mélange of styles. Rounding out the rhythm section, D.M.T.’s meaty bass grumbles and grooves in support, and a couple of intros even throw the spotlight on his throaty purr (“Wounded Landscape,” “Godtopsy”). Guitars attack from every direction, utilizing trem-picked blitzes (“Burnt by the Truth”), plaintive wails (“We Are the Worst”), and glossy shredding (“Godtopsy”). Matthias Joyce’s vocals are capable and versatile, sitting far enough back in the mix that they mesh smoothly with the music rather than overpowering it. Besides Matsubara, several other guests pop in, including Brian Hopp (Cephalic Carnage) and Leon Del Muerte (Impaled, ex-Nails). Endbryo boasts a potpourri of talent, and this bouquet reeks of grind beef.

Endbryo sounds great, even though some moments don’t effortlessly converge. Subgenres like grindcore don’t need much auditory contrast to be effective, but Endbryo boasts a DR7 anyway, benefiting the complex structure of its tracks. The finely-tuned mix allows listeners to appreciate the nuances of the performances within, notably the drumming; a lesser production could have obfuscated Heller’s unhinged sticksmanship. My only complaint is that with such a dense album, Defigurement doesn’t quite achieve the cohesion needed to stitch all of Endbryo’s fragments together. Piano-only interlude “Eternal Dusk” is a beautiful instrumental featured about halfway through. It allows you to take a breath before re-entering the maelstrom, but foreshadowing the melody earlier or including piano elsewhere would have strengthened its inclusion. Similarly, “Left in a Cold Rain” contains slowly swirling synths played under a distorted voice-over. Once again, this skillfully navigates the album’s pacing, but without more tethers to other tracks, it feels isolated from its surroundings. Despite these small shortcomings, Endbryo scores a resounding success.

Defigurement pulls no punches on Endbryo, hewing a slab of great experimental deathgrind. Their ferocity is bruising and their vision unyielding, and it’s rare I encounter music that demands so many repeated spins. This platter is captivating, and each time I think I have Endbryo figured out, the next listen corrects that notion. So many ideas loaded into thirty minutes might seem daunting, but Defigurement expertly balances intrigue and digestibility. Assuming Endbryo is only the beginning, I’ll wait on the edge of my seat to hear how the band’s sound develops.

Rating: Great
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Nefarious Industries
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: October 17th, 2025

#2025 #40 #BeatenToDeath #DeathGrind #DeathMetal #Deathgrind #Defigurement #Endbryo #ExperimentalDeathMetal #ExperimentalDeathgrind #FullOfHell #Gridlink #Grind #NefariousIndustries #Oct25 #Review #Reviews #Slayer #SystemOfADown #USMetal

Nuclear Dudes – Truth Paste Review

By Thus Spoke

Nuclear Dudes is one step closer to living up to their moniker as they are now officially more than one person.1 Joined by Brandon Nakamura (Doomsday 1999, ex-Teen Cthulu) on vocals, Sandrider’s Jon Weisnewski bounces back from the synthwave moment of Compression Crimes 1 to resume the usual trajectory of insanity. 2023’s Boss Blades—my personal introduction to this madness—was a disarmingly likeable collection of silly and serious sounds heavy and light. It was also surprisingly good. Though I’d partly forgotten this due to its brevity and my sieve-like brain, the band has such character, in name, in vibe, and artwork theme—that a commenter very sensibly pointed out is likely courtesy of Weisnewski’s small child and not his brother as I hilariously assumed—that I was instantly back in the room with Nuclear Dudes, ready for the next trip.

With a permanent2 vocalist alongside Weisnewski’s own contributions, Truth Paste is closer to powerviolence or grind than previous outings. But a vague resemblance to these genres is as close as it gets. The record is a breezy 23 minutes across 11 tracks (check one: very short runtimes), and there are more passages of outright beatdown, screaming, chaotic metallic insanity (check 2: silly heavy and intense). But it’s what’s going on within that runtime, and both during and between those especially heavy moments that matters. Nuclear Dudes don’t waste a second. Opening on a bizarre tribute to Guns ‘n Roses’ “Welcome to the Jungle”—which includes using that song’s literal intro as their own—the duo switch in a flash to an electro-grind(core), erratically accented by an array of eclectic sound effects, which is a recurrent style on the album. Approximately four and a half minutes in, it becomes clear that the preceding two tracks (“Napalm Life,” “Holiday Warfare”) functioned as a violent induction to themes that are to follow, as the title track ramps up to a pure hardcore breakdown to a woman crying “ohhhh myy gawwd it’s—”, and the ensuing chuggery forms the first ‘breather’ for the listener. That concludes the most normal segment on the record.

Truth Paste is weird, but it’s not incoherent. Despite the apparently revolving door of blooping, whirring keys and sound effects, and tempo changes that would give an F1 driver whiplash (“Napalm Life,” “Dirty 20,” “Death at Burning Man”), the whole thing flows remarkably well. Pretty much all songs transition seamlessly from the previous with overlapping samples, humming melodies, basslines, or keyboard something-or-other. Nuclear Dudes hit their peak at moments when the electronica-mixed-with-guitar transforms into synthwave by way of grind, making for ridiculously fun grooves (“Concussion Protocol,” “Space Juice,” “Pelvis Presley”) if not some very entertaining melodic excursions. Or perhaps the best parts are during those rapid-fire switches, where goofy meets brutal and jaw-smashing breakdowns are followed or preceded by floaty ethereality (“Truth Paste,” “Juggalos for Congress”).

As a novelty band that takes not taking itself seriously quite seriously, Nuclear Dudes are doing everything right. Track titles are dumb, the movie samples cheesy, and the harsh vox mix is a wry recollection of a bygone bedroom death/grind era. Nuclear Dudes own every last second of it, from the roboticised vocals (“Napalm Life,” “Concussion Protocol,” “Cyrus the Virus”) to the videogame battle sequence vibes of the keyboard gymnastics (“Dirty 20,” “Space Juice”). It’s almost annoying how un-annoying it is. And since you effectively experience it as one extended track, given those instant transitions, it becomes very easy to just vibe with it and not worry about which song you’re actually hearing at any moment, or whether what you just heard was genius or just silly. But in having superior flow to its predecessors, Truth Paste also possesses fewer true standout moments. There are no lows, it’s true, but there are also no epic peaks—no “Many Knifes,” for instance. Then again, this record is committing more strongly to the meth-head electro-grind genre than Boss Blades, and in that respect, kind of smashes it.

If you want to have a very entertaining 23 minutes and six seconds, Truth Paste should be your go-to. Nuclear Dudes has taken recruiting a vocalist, and evolving into their full hybrid mad-subgenre form in their stride, as they continue to half-sprint, half-dance ahead. This record is so tight, fun, and irritatingly self-aware that personal taste is practically irrelevant. I’m no longer going to express surprise that anything Nuclear Dudes creates will be fucking great.

Rating: Great
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Self-Release
Website: Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: September 5th, 2025

#2025 #40 #DeathMetal #EDM #ElectronicMetal #ExperimentalMetal #Grind #Grindcore #NuclearDudes #Powerviolence #Review #Reviews #Sandrider #SelfReleases #Sep25 #Synthwave #TeenCthulhu #TruthPaste #USMetal

Nuclear Dudes – Truth Paste Review

By Thus Spoke

Nuclear Dudes is one step closer to living up to their moniker as they are now officially more than one person.1 Joined by Brandon Nakamura (Doomsday 1999, ex-Teen Cthulu) on vocals, Sandrider’s Jon Weisnewski bounces back from the synthwave moment of Compression Crimes 1 to resume the usual trajectory of insanity. 2023’s Boss Blades—my personal introduction to this madness—was a disarmingly likeable collection of silly and serious sounds heavy and light. It was also surprisingly good. Though I’d partly forgotten this due to its brevity and my sieve-like brain, the band has such character, in name, in vibe, and artwork theme—that a commenter very sensibly pointed out is likely courtesy of Weisnewski’s small child and not his brother as I hilariously assumed—that I was instantly back in the room with Nuclear Dudes, ready for the next trip.

With a permanent2 vocalist alongside Weisnewski’s own contributions, Truth Paste is closer to powerviolence or grind than previous outings. But a vague resemblance to these genres is as close as it gets. The record is a breezy 23 minutes across 11 tracks (check one: very short runtimes), and there are more passages of outright beatdown, screaming, chaotic metallic insanity (check 2: silly heavy and intense). But it’s what’s going on within that runtime, and both during and between those especially heavy moments that matters. Nuclear Dudes don’t waste a second. Opening on a bizarre tribute to Guns ‘n Roses’ “Welcome to the Jungle”—which includes using that song’s literal intro as their own—the duo switch in a flash to an electro-grind(core), erratically accented by an array of eclectic sound effects, which is a recurrent style on the album. Approximately four and a half minutes in, it becomes clear that the preceding two tracks (“Napalm Life,” “Holiday Warfare”) functioned as a violent induction to themes that are to follow, as the title track ramps up to a pure hardcore breakdown to a woman crying “ohhhh myy gawwd it’s—”, and the ensuing chuggery forms the first ‘breather’ for the listener. That concludes the most normal segment on the record.

Truth Paste is weird, but it’s not incoherent. Despite the apparently revolving door of blooping, whirring keys and sound effects, and tempo changes that would give an F1 driver whiplash (“Napalm Life,” “Dirty 20,” “Death at Burning Man”), the whole thing flows remarkably well. Pretty much all songs transition seamlessly from the previous with overlapping samples, humming melodies, basslines, or keyboard something-or-other. Nuclear Dudes hit their peak at moments when the electronica-mixed-with-guitar transforms into synthwave by way of grind, making for ridiculously fun grooves (“Concussion Protocol,” “Space Juice,” “Pelvis Presley”) if not some very entertaining melodic excursions. Or perhaps the best parts are during those rapid-fire switches, where goofy meets brutal and jaw-smashing breakdowns are followed or preceded by floaty ethereality (“Truth Paste,” “Juggalos for Congress”).

As a novelty band that takes not taking itself seriously quite seriously, Nuclear Dudes are doing everything right. Track titles are dumb, the movie samples cheesy, and the harsh vox mix is a wry recollection of a bygone bedroom death/grind era. Nuclear Dudes own every last second of it, from the roboticised vocals (“Napalm Life,” “Concussion Protocol,” “Cyrus the Virus”) to the videogame battle sequence vibes of the keyboard gymnastics (“Dirty 20,” “Space Juice”). It’s almost annoying how un-annoying it is. And since you effectively experience it as one extended track, given those instant transitions, it becomes very easy to just vibe with it and not worry about which song you’re actually hearing at any moment, or whether what you just heard was genius or just silly. But in having superior flow to its predecessors, Truth Paste also possesses fewer true standout moments. There are no lows, it’s true, but there are also no epic peaks—no “Many Knifes,” for instance. Then again, this record is committing more strongly to the meth-head electro-grind genre than Boss Blades, and in that respect, kind of smashes it.

If you want to have a very entertaining 23 minutes and six seconds, Truth Paste should be your go-to. Nuclear Dudes has taken recruiting a vocalist, and evolving into their full hybrid mad-subgenre form in their stride, as they continue to half-sprint, half-dance ahead. This record is so tight, fun, and irritatingly self-aware that personal taste is practically irrelevant. I’m no longer going to express surprise that anything Nuclear Dudes creates will be fucking great.

Rating: Great
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Self-Release
Website: Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: September 5th, 2025

#2025 #40 #DeathMetal #EDM #ElectronicMetal #ExperimentalMetal #Grind #Grindcore #NuclearDudes #Powerviolence #Review #Reviews #Sandrider #SelfReleases #Sep25 #Synthwave #TeenCthulhu #TruthPaste #USMetal

Nuclear Dudes – Truth Paste Review

By Thus Spoke

Nuclear Dudes is one step closer to living up to their moniker as they are now officially more than one person.1 Joined by Brandon Nakamura (Doomsday 1999, ex-Teen Cthulu) on vocals, Sandrider’s Jon Weisnewski bounces back from the synthwave moment of Compression Crimes 1 to resume the usual trajectory of insanity. 2023’s Boss Blades—my personal introduction to this madness—was a disarmingly likeable collection of silly and serious sounds heavy and light. It was also surprisingly good. Though I’d partly forgotten this due to its brevity and my sieve-like brain, the band has such character, in name, in vibe, and artwork theme—that a commenter very sensibly pointed out is likely courtesy of Weisnewski’s small child and not his brother as I hilariously assumed—that I was instantly back in the room with Nuclear Dudes, ready for the next trip.

With a permanent2 vocalist alongside Weisnewski’s own contributions, Truth Paste is closer to powerviolence or grind than previous outings. But a vague resemblance to these genres is as close as it gets. The record is a breezy 23 minutes across 11 tracks (check one: very short runtimes), and there are more passages of outright beatdown, screaming, chaotic metallic insanity (check 2: silly heavy and intense). But it’s what’s going on within that runtime, and both during and between those especially heavy moments that matters. Nuclear Dudes don’t waste a second. Opening on a bizarre tribute to Guns ‘n Roses’ “Welcome to the Jungle”—which includes using that song’s literal intro as their own—the duo switch in a flash to an electro-grind(core), erratically accented by an array of eclectic sound effects, which is a recurrent style on the album. Approximately four and a half minutes in, it becomes clear that the preceding two tracks (“Napalm Life,” “Holiday Warfare”) functioned as a violent induction to themes that are to follow, as the title track ramps up to a pure hardcore breakdown to a woman crying “ohhhh myy gawwd it’s—”, and the ensuing chuggery forms the first ‘breather’ for the listener. That concludes the most normal segment on the record.

Truth Paste is weird, but it’s not incoherent. Despite the apparently revolving door of blooping, whirring keys and sound effects, and tempo changes that would give an F1 driver whiplash (“Napalm Life,” “Dirty 20,” “Death at Burning Man”), the whole thing flows remarkably well. Pretty much all songs transition seamlessly from the previous with overlapping samples, humming melodies, basslines, or keyboard something-or-other. Nuclear Dudes hit their peak at moments when the electronica-mixed-with-guitar transforms into synthwave by way of grind, making for ridiculously fun grooves (“Concussion Protocol,” “Space Juice,” “Pelvis Presley”) if not some very entertaining melodic excursions. Or perhaps the best parts are during those rapid-fire switches, where goofy meets brutal and jaw-smashing breakdowns are followed or preceded by floaty ethereality (“Truth Paste,” “Juggalos for Congress”).

As a novelty band that takes not taking itself seriously quite seriously, Nuclear Dudes are doing everything right. Track titles are dumb, the movie samples cheesy, and the harsh vox mix is a wry recollection of a bygone bedroom death/grind era. Nuclear Dudes own every last second of it, from the roboticised vocals (“Napalm Life,” “Concussion Protocol,” “Cyrus the Virus”) to the videogame battle sequence vibes of the keyboard gymnastics (“Dirty 20,” “Space Juice”). It’s almost annoying how un-annoying it is. And since you effectively experience it as one extended track, given those instant transitions, it becomes very easy to just vibe with it and not worry about which song you’re actually hearing at any moment, or whether what you just heard was genius or just silly. But in having superior flow to its predecessors, Truth Paste also possesses fewer true standout moments. There are no lows, it’s true, but there are also no epic peaks—no “Many Knifes,” for instance. Then again, this record is committing more strongly to the meth-head electro-grind genre than Boss Blades, and in that respect, kind of smashes it.

If you want to have a very entertaining 23 minutes and six seconds, Truth Paste should be your go-to. Nuclear Dudes has taken recruiting a vocalist, and evolving into their full hybrid mad-subgenre form in their stride, as they continue to half-sprint, half-dance ahead. This record is so tight, fun, and irritatingly self-aware that personal taste is practically irrelevant. I’m no longer going to express surprise that anything Nuclear Dudes creates will be fucking great.

Rating: Great
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Self-Release
Website: Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: September 5th, 2025

#2025 #40 #DeathMetal #EDM #ElectronicMetal #ExperimentalMetal #Grind #Grindcore #NuclearDudes #Powerviolence #Review #Reviews #Sandrider #SelfReleases #Sep25 #Synthwave #TeenCthulhu #TruthPaste #USMetal

Nuclear Dudes – Truth Paste Review

By Thus Spoke

Nuclear Dudes is one step closer to living up to their moniker as they are now officially more than one person.1 Joined by Brandon Nakamura (Doomsday 1999, ex-Teen Cthulu) on vocals, Sandrider’s Jon Weisnewski bounces back from the synthwave moment of Compression Crimes 1 to resume the usual trajectory of insanity. 2023’s Boss Blades—my personal introduction to this madness—was a disarmingly likeable collection of silly and serious sounds heavy and light. It was also surprisingly good. Though I’d partly forgotten this due to its brevity and my sieve-like brain, the band has such character, in name, in vibe, and artwork theme—that a commenter very sensibly pointed out is likely courtesy of Weisnewski’s small child and not his brother as I hilariously assumed—that I was instantly back in the room with Nuclear Dudes, ready for the next trip.

With a permanent2 vocalist alongside Weisnewski’s own contributions, Truth Paste is closer to powerviolence or grind than previous outings. But a vague resemblance to these genres is as close as it gets. The record is a breezy 23 minutes across 11 tracks (check one: very short runtimes), and there are more passages of outright beatdown, screaming, chaotic metallic insanity (check 2: silly heavy and intense). But it’s what’s going on within that runtime, and both during and between those especially heavy moments that matters. Nuclear Dudes don’t waste a second. Opening on a bizarre tribute to Guns ‘n Roses’ “Welcome to the Jungle”—which includes using that song’s literal intro as their own—the duo switch in a flash to an electro-grind(core), erratically accented by an array of eclectic sound effects, which is a recurrent style on the album. Approximately four and a half minutes in, it becomes clear that the preceding two tracks (“Napalm Life,” “Holiday Warfare”) functioned as a violent induction to themes that are to follow, as the title track ramps up to a pure hardcore breakdown to a woman crying “ohhhh myy gawwd it’s—”, and the ensuing chuggery forms the first ‘breather’ for the listener. That concludes the most normal segment on the record.

Truth Paste is weird, but it’s not incoherent. Despite the apparently revolving door of blooping, whirring keys and sound effects, and tempo changes that would give an F1 driver whiplash (“Napalm Life,” “Dirty 20,” “Death at Burning Man”), the whole thing flows remarkably well. Pretty much all songs transition seamlessly from the previous with overlapping samples, humming melodies, basslines, or keyboard something-or-other. Nuclear Dudes hit their peak at moments when the electronica-mixed-with-guitar transforms into synthwave by way of grind, making for ridiculously fun grooves (“Concussion Protocol,” “Space Juice,” “Pelvis Presley”) if not some very entertaining melodic excursions. Or perhaps the best parts are during those rapid-fire switches, where goofy meets brutal and jaw-smashing breakdowns are followed or preceded by floaty ethereality (“Truth Paste,” “Juggalos for Congress”).

As a novelty band that takes not taking itself seriously quite seriously, Nuclear Dudes are doing everything right. Track titles are dumb, the movie samples cheesy, and the harsh vox mix is a wry recollection of a bygone bedroom death/grind era. Nuclear Dudes own every last second of it, from the roboticised vocals (“Napalm Life,” “Concussion Protocol,” “Cyrus the Virus”) to the videogame battle sequence vibes of the keyboard gymnastics (“Dirty 20,” “Space Juice”). It’s almost annoying how un-annoying it is. And since you effectively experience it as one extended track, given those instant transitions, it becomes very easy to just vibe with it and not worry about which song you’re actually hearing at any moment, or whether what you just heard was genius or just silly. But in having superior flow to its predecessors, Truth Paste also possesses fewer true standout moments. There are no lows, it’s true, but there are also no epic peaks—no “Many Knifes,” for instance. Then again, this record is committing more strongly to the meth-head electro-grind genre than Boss Blades, and in that respect, kind of smashes it.

If you want to have a very entertaining 23 minutes and six seconds, Truth Paste should be your go-to. Nuclear Dudes has taken recruiting a vocalist, and evolving into their full hybrid mad-subgenre form in their stride, as they continue to half-sprint, half-dance ahead. This record is so tight, fun, and irritatingly self-aware that personal taste is practically irrelevant. I’m no longer going to express surprise that anything Nuclear Dudes creates will be fucking great.

Rating: Great
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Self-Release
Website: Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: September 5th, 2025

#2025 #40 #DeathMetal #EDM #ElectronicMetal #ExperimentalMetal #Grind #Grindcore #NuclearDudes #Powerviolence #Review #Reviews #Sandrider #SelfReleases #Sep25 #Synthwave #TeenCthulhu #TruthPaste #USMetal

VOID – Forbidden Morals Review

By Iceberg

Pinpointing a band’s style of metal is becoming an increasingly difficult task these days. Amidst the sub-sub genres and metal-adjacent infusions, its refreshing to find a band sporting the trad metal tag. Louisiana’s VOID has been kicking swamp-ass and taking names since 2021, self-releasing their thrashy debut Horrors of Reality in 2023. Forbidden Morals leans further into VOID’s horror atmosphere, with the long shadow of a certain European count presiding over the record. Recently picked up by Shadow Kingdom, and buoyed by aggressive touring of their region of the Deep South, VOID seem primed to pour their potent brew of technical thrash and trad metal into my sublimating earholes.

In a crowded world of metal bands trying to be the next big thing, VOID are unapologetically throwback. Along with leather and hair that won’t quit the 80’s, the sound of the band hearkens back to the halcyon years of metal. VOID’s brand of thrash leans more Bay Area than Germanic, and often is simply high-energy heavy metal, evoking the pre-Load era of Metallica, classic Mercyful Fate, and a whiff of Judas Priest. Catchy, horns-up riffs abound in Forbidden Morals and the guitar solos in particular are worthy of the thrash solo pantheon (“Forbidden Morals,” “Beneath…Lives The Impaler”). Jackson Davenport’s vocals are a standout here, running up and down his larynx with abandon in both clean singing and gruff barks. The rhythm section doesn’t slouch either, with a springy bass tone that is an unexpected highlight in the record’s more spacious moments (“Judas Cradle”). A murky production job compliments the album’s concept, but when the riffs pick up the pace and intricacy, I found myself missing the clarity of the low end.

What Forbidden Morals lacks in studio sheen, it makes up for in sheer enthusiasm. The album’s ten tracks cover a large swathe of ground, and VOID aren’t content to confine themselves to one side of metal. Progressive inclinations pop up in odd time signatures (“Beneath…Lives The Impaler”) horror atmospheres (“Apparition”) and rapid fire tempo changes (“Forbidden Morals”). The voice-over intro of “A Curse” comes off on the cheesy side, but when paired with a recap in “Beneath…Lives The Impaler” and the very obvious Andrew Lloyd Webber reference in “Return Of The Phantom” VOID make a convincing case for Forbidden Morals as a horror-inspired album. The Priest-esque power ballad “By Silver Light” is one of the album’s strongest tracks, featuring a throat-shredding performance by Davenport, and tasteful flamenco guitar that makes for a nice change of pace. After spending a few weeks with Forbidden Morals, it occurred to me the further VOID move from traditional thrash, the better they get.

Forbidden Morals is a raucous good time, and quite ambitious, but I can find a few dents in VOID’s Transylvanian armor. The back of the half album (beginning with gorgeous acoustic guitar instrumental “Valeria”) is much more engaging than the front, and this lopsidedness makes album relistens something of a chore. While the individual tracks here have an impressive array of structures, using repeating guitar motifs as connective tissue, there’s a frustrating lack of memorable, or even perceptible, choruses. When combined with progressive song layouts (not simply verse/chorus/bridge) finding one’s place in the song is difficult, and the songs feel much longer than they are (“Gateways of Stone,” “Judas Cradle”). VOID also abuse the fade-out, with four of the eight proper tracks on here featuring this listless ending. Longform closer “Beneath…Lies The Impaler,” which is otherwise a commendable achievement of progressive thrash, is saddled with not just a fade-out but a fade-in as well, an unforced error in my book of album production choices.

The cartoonish quality of Forbidden Morals’ album cover had me worried this would be an amateur outing into thrashy trad metal, but I’m happy to report VOID have put my worries to rest. If the back half of Forbidden Morals were packaged as an EP I’d be hawking VOID’s wares up and down the n00b cells on my weekly guard rotation. With a bit of work on clarifying their song structure, and the will to end their songs with an exclamation point versus ellipses, I hope to see big things from the Louisiana quintet. As it stands, Forbidden Morals is a solid album for those who like their metal a bit thrashy, a bit classic, and a lot of fun.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Shadow Kingdom
Websites: Bandcamp | Website | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: August 29th, 2025

#2025 #30 #Aug25 #ForbiddenMorals #HeavyMetal #JudasPriest #MercyfulFate #Metallica #Review #Reviews #ShadowKingdom #ThrashMetal #USMetal #Vøid

VOID – Forbidden Morals Review

By Iceberg

Pinpointing a band’s style of metal is becoming an increasingly difficult task these days. Amidst the sub-sub genres and metal-adjacent infusions, its refreshing to find a band sporting the trad metal tag. Louisiana’s VOID has been kicking swamp-ass and taking names since 2021, self-releasing their thrashy debut Horrors of Reality in 2023. Forbidden Morals leans further into VOID’s horror atmosphere, with the long shadow of a certain European count presiding over the record. Recently picked up by Shadow Kingdom, and buoyed by aggressive touring of their region of the Deep South, VOID seem primed to pour their potent brew of technical thrash and trad metal into my sublimating earholes.

In a crowded world of metal bands trying to be the next big thing, VOID are unapologetically throwback. Along with leather and hair that won’t quit the 80’s, the sound of the band hearkens back to the halcyon years of metal. VOID’s brand of thrash leans more Bay Area than Germanic, and often is simply high-energy heavy metal, evoking the pre-Load era of Metallica, classic Mercyful Fate, and a whiff of Judas Priest. Catchy, horns-up riffs abound in Forbidden Morals and the guitar solos in particular are worthy of the thrash solo pantheon (“Forbidden Morals,” “Beneath…Lives The Impaler”). Jackson Davenport’s vocals are a standout here, running up and down his larynx with abandon in both clean singing and gruff barks. The rhythm section doesn’t slouch either, with a springy bass tone that is an unexpected highlight in the record’s more spacious moments (“Judas Cradle”). A murky production job compliments the album’s concept, but when the riffs pick up the pace and intricacy, I found myself missing the clarity of the low end.

What Forbidden Morals lacks in studio sheen, it makes up for in sheer enthusiasm. The album’s ten tracks cover a large swathe of ground, and VOID aren’t content to confine themselves to one side of metal. Progressive inclinations pop up in odd time signatures (“Beneath…Lives The Impaler”) horror atmospheres (“Apparition”) and rapid fire tempo changes (“Forbidden Morals”). The voice-over intro of “A Curse” comes off on the cheesy side, but when paired with a recap in “Beneath…Lives The Impaler” and the very obvious Andrew Lloyd Webber reference in “Return Of The Phantom” VOID make a convincing case for Forbidden Morals as a horror-inspired album. The Priest-esque power ballad “By Silver Light” is one of the album’s strongest tracks, featuring a throat-shredding performance by Davenport, and tasteful flamenco guitar that makes for a nice change of pace. After spending a few weeks with Forbidden Morals, it occurred to me the further VOID move from traditional thrash, the better they get.

Forbidden Morals is a raucous good time, and quite ambitious, but I can find a few dents in VOID’s Transylvanian armor. The back of the half album (beginning with gorgeous acoustic guitar instrumental “Valeria”) is much more engaging than the front, and this lopsidedness makes album relistens something of a chore. While the individual tracks here have an impressive array of structures, using repeating guitar motifs as connective tissue, there’s a frustrating lack of memorable, or even perceptible, choruses. When combined with progressive song layouts (not simply verse/chorus/bridge) finding one’s place in the song is difficult, and the songs feel much longer than they are (“Gateways of Stone,” “Judas Cradle”). VOID also abuse the fade-out, with four of the eight proper tracks on here featuring this listless ending. Longform closer “Beneath…Lies The Impaler,” which is otherwise a commendable achievement of progressive thrash, is saddled with not just a fade-out but a fade-in as well, an unforced error in my book of album production choices.

The cartoonish quality of Forbidden Morals’ album cover had me worried this would be an amateur outing into thrashy trad metal, but I’m happy to report VOID have put my worries to rest. If the back half of Forbidden Morals were packaged as an EP I’d be hawking VOID’s wares up and down the n00b cells on my weekly guard rotation. With a bit of work on clarifying their song structure, and the will to end their songs with an exclamation point versus ellipses, I hope to see big things from the Louisiana quintet. As it stands, Forbidden Morals is a solid album for those who like their metal a bit thrashy, a bit classic, and a lot of fun.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Shadow Kingdom
Websites: Bandcamp | Website | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: August 29th, 2025

#2025 #30 #Aug25 #ForbiddenMorals #HeavyMetal #JudasPriest #MercyfulFate #Metallica #Review #Reviews #ShadowKingdom #ThrashMetal #USMetal #Vøid

Masseti – Odds and Ends Review

By Iceberg

When prog and symphonic metal meet in just the right way, they click together like puzzle pieces. Prog’s technicality and excess are balanced by the melody and atmosphere of symphonic metal. Symphonic metal’s penchant for straightforward structure and synth-reliance is buoyed by the dynamism and rhythm-bending of guitar wizardry. Tiago Masseti, the man behind his eponymous band, Masseti, is seeking to walk the line between these two styles on his debut album, Odds and Ends. Previously fronting Brazilian prog act Daydream XI, Tiago relocated to Brooklyn and hashed out the eight tracks of his debut album in the creative incubator of the COVID lockdowns. Masseti’s chosen style is dear to my heart, so I was excited to see if Odds and Ends could rekindle one of my oldest and fondest flames.

If you’re familiar with the sounds of early Symphony X and Dream Theater, you’ll have insight into the contents of Odds and Ends. Chunky, rhythmic riffs propel the verses towards catchy choruses and then into acrobatic instrumental passages, and don’t forget the omnipresent unison lines, where keyboard and guitar move through tonality and barlines with abandon. Musical prowess is required here, and the performances on Odds and Ends are tight and commendable across the board. Tiago, whether he means to or not, does a spot-on impression of 90’s Russell Allen, with a clean upper register that can wail in the highs (“A Singer In The Arms Of Winter”) and swoop into low growls (“Against Our Fire”). His guitar work is impressive, with solos in the mold of Romeo and Petrucci (“The Pool of Liquid Dreams,” “A Singer In The Arms Of Winter”). Masseti’s rhythm section is dependable and shines when needed, with a noteworthy bass intro (“The Pool of Liquid Dreams”) and some dazzlingly quick combinations on the drums (“Against Our Fire”).

Odds and Ends is a fitting title for Masseti’s debut, because the album consists of tracks that seem fully cooked and others that don’t quite fit in. When Tiago nails his songwriting and editing, though, some of the material is downright decadent. Opener and somehow-not-single “Serpents and Whores” is the star of the show here, effortlessly fusing modern Haken djent with an absolute banger of a chorus and a smart, underutilized odd-time signature diversion in the coda. The album busies itself with winding paths from there, visiting classic Symphony X-tinged ballads (“Gone,” “Hindrance”) and long-form Dream Theater-style excursions (“Never Be Like You,” “Heir Of The Survivor”). Masseti certainly don’t rest on their laurels, but the cosmopolitan nature of Odds and Ends proves to be something of an Achilles’ heel.

Perhaps more important than convincing songs is album cohesion. The DR 6 production has a modern sheen to it, but it runs louder than it needs to and would benefit from more nuance and depth. Prog is no stranger to long compositions, but they can be momentum killers, and editing is paramount. The opening salvo of tracks is trimmed and lean, full of exciting choruses and varied songwriting approaches, but the album’s center sags. “Singer In The Arms Of Winter” is a hulking tribute to Dio that nails the execution but sticks around just a little too long, and while “Never Be Like You” uses a refreshingly off-kilter unison rhythm as its central motif, it takes 8 minutes to do what it could probably do in 6. The kinetic energy of the album’s outset is never really regained. By the time closer “Heir Of The Survivor”—a Twilight Of Olympus inspired track if I’ve ever heard one—rolls around, it seems Masseti has lost the novel direction they took in the beginning and are sitting in more comfortable, proven territory.

It may seem I’m coming down hard on Masseti, but I do it out of love, because the front end of this album shows just how much raw potential is here. Tiago should be commended for shouldering so much of the performance and production for a debut album that sounds like it’s coming from a mature outfit. I can see myself returning to this album every once in a while, but tracks like “Serpents and Whores” and “Gone” will definitely be making my NOW 2025 list1. Masseti have all the tools in their belt, and with greater editing and album cohesion, I see a great symphonic prog record in their future.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Self-Released
Websites: massetiofficial.com | facebook.com/massetiofficial
Releases Worldwide: June 14th, 2025

#2025 #30 #DaydreamXI #Dio #DreamTheater #Haken #Jun25 #Masseti #OddsAndEnds #PowerMetal #ProgressiveMetal #Review #Reviews #SelfReleased #SymphonicMetal #SymphonyX #USMetal

Masseti – Odds and Ends Review

By Iceberg

When prog and symphonic metal meet in just the right way, they click together like puzzle pieces. Prog’s technicality and excess are balanced by the melody and atmosphere of symphonic metal. Symphonic metal’s penchant for straightforward structure and synth-reliance is buoyed by the dynamism and rhythm-bending of guitar wizardry. Tiago Masseti, the man behind his eponymous band, Masseti, is seeking to walk the line between these two styles on his debut album, Odds and Ends. Previously fronting Brazilian prog act Daydream XI, Tiago relocated to Brooklyn and hashed out the eight tracks of his debut album in the creative incubator of the COVID lockdowns. Masseti’s chosen style is dear to my heart, so I was excited to see if Odds and Ends could rekindle one of my oldest and fondest flames.

If you’re familiar with the sounds of early Symphony X and Dream Theater, you’ll have insight into the contents of Odds and Ends. Chunky, rhythmic riffs propel the verses towards catchy choruses and then into acrobatic instrumental passages, and don’t forget the omnipresent unison lines, where keyboard and guitar move through tonality and barlines with abandon. Musical prowess is required here, and the performances on Odds and Ends are tight and commendable across the board. Tiago, whether he means to or not, does a spot-on impression of 90’s Russell Allen, with a clean upper register that can wail in the highs (“A Singer In The Arms Of Winter”) and swoop into low growls (“Against Our Fire”). His guitar work is impressive, with solos in the mold of Romeo and Petrucci (“The Pool of Liquid Dreams,” “A Singer In The Arms Of Winter”). Masseti’s rhythm section is dependable and shines when needed, with a noteworthy bass intro (“The Pool of Liquid Dreams”) and some dazzlingly quick combinations on the drums (“Against Our Fire”).

Odds and Ends is a fitting title for Masseti’s debut, because the album consists of tracks that seem fully cooked and others that don’t quite fit in. When Tiago nails his songwriting and editing, though, some of the material is downright decadent. Opener and somehow-not-single “Serpents and Whores” is the star of the show here, effortlessly fusing modern Haken djent with an absolute banger of a chorus and a smart, underutilized odd-time signature diversion in the coda. The album busies itself with winding paths from there, visiting classic Symphony X-tinged ballads (“Gone,” “Hindrance”) and long-form Dream Theater-style excursions (“Never Be Like You,” “Heir Of The Survivor”). Masseti certainly don’t rest on their laurels, but the cosmopolitan nature of Odds and Ends proves to be something of an Achilles’ heel.

Perhaps more important than convincing songs is album cohesion. The DR 6 production has a modern sheen to it, but it runs louder than it needs to and would benefit from more nuance and depth. Prog is no stranger to long compositions, but they can be momentum killers, and editing is paramount. The opening salvo of tracks is trimmed and lean, full of exciting choruses and varied songwriting approaches, but the album’s center sags. “Singer In The Arms Of Winter” is a hulking tribute to Dio that nails the execution but sticks around just a little too long, and while “Never Be Like You” uses a refreshingly off-kilter unison rhythm as its central motif, it takes 8 minutes to do what it could probably do in 6. The kinetic energy of the album’s outset is never really regained. By the time closer “Heir Of The Survivor”—a Twilight Of Olympus inspired track if I’ve ever heard one—rolls around, it seems Masseti has lost the novel direction they took in the beginning and are sitting in more comfortable, proven territory.

It may seem I’m coming down hard on Masseti, but I do it out of love, because the front end of this album shows just how much raw potential is here. Tiago should be commended for shouldering so much of the performance and production for a debut album that sounds like it’s coming from a mature outfit. I can see myself returning to this album every once in a while, but tracks like “Serpents and Whores” and “Gone” will definitely be making my NOW 2025 list1. Masseti have all the tools in their belt, and with greater editing and album cohesion, I see a great symphonic prog record in their future.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Self-Released
Websites: massetiofficial.com | facebook.com/massetiofficial
Releases Worldwide: June 14th, 2025

#2025 #30 #DaydreamXI #Dio #DreamTheater #Haken #Jun25 #Masseti #OddsAndEnds #PowerMetal #ProgressiveMetal #Review #Reviews #SelfReleased #SymphonicMetal #SymphonyX #USMetal