#usmetal — Public Fediverse posts

A year ago to the day, the metal community tragically lost Brent Hinds. Three weeks from now, metalheads can observe a joyous anniversary involving Hinds: Blood Mountain turns 20. The convergence of these anniversaries must be disorienting for the remaining members of Mastodon, who recently released a tribute to their fallen brother. In the video, Brann Dailor, Bill Kelliher, and Troy Sanders narrate the rise and fall of their camaraderie with Hinds, culminating in a public dispute after his dismissal from the band. Watching old studio footage of his deceased bandmate recording Blood Mountain, however, puts Dailor in a happier mood; he claims Hinds was reaching the height of his creative powers on album three.1 I snagged a copy of Blood Mountain from Best Buy the day it dropped, and it quickly presaged for me the metal giant Mastodon could become. Only now can I appreciate the giant within the giant.

Like most Mastodon fans, I eagerly anticipated Blood Mountain. The “March of the Fire Ants” video on Headbanger’s Ball introduced me to the band, and Leviathan convinced me that these Atlantans were running perpendicular to the New Wave of American Heavy Metal (NWOAHM) they were lumped into. Signing to Reprise Records put major pressure on the band, which they mitigated by keeping Matt Bayles behind the board.2 Mastodon ended up following Leviathan with another concept album, this time with originality: a protagonist ascends the titular mountain to crown its peak with a crystal skull, facing physical, psychological, and mythical tribulations along the way.3 Upon finally hearing it, Blood Mountain struck me as a step up for the band. Kelliher’s off-kilter guitar work felt more consistent, Sanders’s bass choices felt more impactful, and Dailor’s drum-kit clinic felt more purposive. But the album also struck me as structurally similar to Leviathan. An early lyric in “The Wolf is Loose”—when a screaming Hinds likens the protagonist’s predicament to ‘the belly of the whale’—seemed to confirm this similitude.

It was obvious, however, that Blood Mountain’s vocals separated it from previous outings. A making-of documentary shows Hinds exhausted by the lengthier recording process yet energized by the unique blending of his voice with Sanders’s.4 If “The Wolf is Loose” and “Crystal Skull” loosely mimic Leviathan’s raucous opening, Mastodon distinguish Blood Mountain’s one-two punch through Hinds’s voice, shifting between scathing snarls, creepy whispers, and soulful croons. On melodic centerpiece “Colony of Birchmen,” Hinds warbles eerie verses and belts a powerful post-chorus with posthumously poignant lyrics (‘Gone away / My heart’s gone away / Taking everything’). And “This Mortal Soil,” the prog-rock curveball, contains one of Hinds’s most moving choruses. The NWOAHM left me callous to the harsh/clean vocals formula, and Hinds himself jokes that Mastodon sold out with their singsongy major label premiere. Despite my NWOAHM skepticism, Blood Mountain didn’t strike me as vocally formulaic. Hinds’s voice in particular gave Mastodon a weirdo quality that had the band riding its own wave.

Hinds is primarily a guitarist, though, and Blood Mountain contains some of his most expressive playing. He does, of course, lay down tasty solos (“Crystal Skull,” “Colony of Birchmen”). But for my money, Blood Mountain soars when Hinds adds melodic color to kinetic jams with Kelliher, Sanders, and Dailor. The frenetic bridge in “Capillarian Crest” comes to mind, as does freak-out instrumental “Bladecatcher.” Closer “Pendulous Skin” shows Hinds at his most singular on Blood Mountain, guitar-wise. He cites Led Zeppelin as an influence, and it’s hard not to hear the song’s roving acoustic chords as Stairwavian, its solo as Pagean. With “Pendulous Skin,” it’s almost as if the rest of Mastodon handed off Blood Mountain to Hinds, confident he could craft a classic conclusion.5

Blood Mountain stands as a transition between the sludgsterpiece of Leviathan and the more palatable Mastodon to come. Calling it simply a ‘transition album,’ however, would be unjust. Standing tall on its own, Blood Mountain showed me something familiar yet new in 2006—in hindsight, Hinds was responsible for much of this invigorating novelty. Indeed, the album’s classic- and prog-rock flashes excited me for the band’s future. Speaking of the future, Mastodon will be releasing Marrow Deep, their first album without Hinds, a week from now. Today is the day to mourn the loss of a metal giant, and August 28th will be the day to see what Mastodon can create without this giant. September 12th, however, will be the day to celebrate Hinds’s giant contributions: to one of Mastodon’s finest albums and to metaldom more broadly.

Metal is filled with reluctant vocalists. Whether it’s Dave Mustaine ultimately deciding to front Megadeth, or Mikael Åkerfeldt hesitantly filling the void in Opeth, or Troy Sanders and Brent Hinds eventually co-voicing Mastodon,1 vocals often exist in the genre as an afterthought. But what happens when there’s no after to the afterthought? You get something like Only Echoes, an instrumental post-metal quartet from Denver, CO. In their promo materials, Only Echoes explain that they formed expecting vocals to play a part in their music, but ‘when the time came to decide who would sing, no one raised a hand.’ This lack of vocals, however, became a staple of the band’s identity, fueling their self-titled EP (2018) and debut LP Sunsickness (2022), both of which were independently released. Arriving via Braeburn Records, sophomore album Born Adrift promises ‘an internal narrative without relying on lyrics to explain it.’ Said promo materials do, however, sketch the narrative: the album charts ‘a journey through survival, uncertainty, and the strange momentum that keeps a person moving through hostile waters.’

Without a vocalist, Only Echoes rely on the versatile arsenals of their instrumentalists to convey Born Adrift’s arc. The band references several acts one would expect as influences on an (instrumental) post-metal album: Russian Circles, Pelican, Isis.2 On the guitar front, Austin Minney and Dustin Yourishin combine for a menagerie of flickering melodies, glimmering clean chords, and chunky chugs. Drummer Zach Sirotkin lays down a bevy of blast beats, d-beats, and double-bass thunder. Meanwhile, bassist Ben Rosenberg periodically pokes through the mix with some upper-fret flourishes. As some elements of this description of Only Echoes hint at, Born Adrift doesn’t quite channel the spirit of the bands cited above. Yes, there are some well-earned quiet-to-heavy, heavy-to-quiet transitions across the album. But by and large, Only Echoes play far less patiently than these groups, swiftly shuffling between blissed-out breathers, punk-rock paces, and core-ish chuggery. Despite their mostly 6–8 minute lengths, the songs tend to sound like bursts of metal grab bag.

Because all but one song on Born Adrift briskly bounces between styles, any sense of album-spanning narrative is hard to detect. My criticism of the grab-bag songwriting notwithstanding, “Born Adrift” and “Tempest” do open the record with excitement, showcasing a band capable of moving melodies and infectious tempos. “So Tightly Bound” seems like it will be compositionally different; it develops an enchanting vibe across three minutes. But then the song quickly jumps into a d-beat-driven punk part, capped off with some obligatory chugging. It’s as if there’s a missing middle between the beginning and the punky outburst. After the aptly titled interlude (“Inter”), the album closes by showing some signs of patient development (“Steps Ahead of Drowning”). But then Only Echoes revert back to their familiar mode, jarringly contrasting serene buildups with breakneck speed (“Shimmering Death”). At 35 minutes, Born Adrift isn’t exactly a chore to get through, but it often feels longer than it is. I almost get the sense that Only Echoes tried to cram an album’s worth of material into nearly every song.

Unfortunately, sonic missteps also become a barrier to enjoying Only Echoes’s sophomore outing. On the production end of things, Born Adrift does seem cognizant of intentional mixing: the drums and bass grow more present in sections where the guitars are textural and ambient. The guitars, however, unpleasantly dominate the mix when Minney and Yourishin turn towards chugging rhythms. The bass, when it sticks to lower registers, gets lost and feels inessential. The big issue, however, concerns the low bitrate of Born Adrift’s audio files (128 kbps). At lower volumes, the album sounds compressed and mushy; at higher volumes, it’s clippy and grating. As a metal album in want of blasting, this latter fact is quite unfortunate.

Born Adrift ultimately disappoints, but not for its lack of vocals per se. As instrumentalists, Only Echoes clearly possess chops, and they show a knack for crafting and connecting affecting passages (“Born Adrift,” “Tempest”). Too often, however, these passages are disrupted by abrupt stylistic changes that come off as contrived. Additionally, the sonic flaws sadly hamper an album that does, at times, sound massive and powerful. In my view, Only Echoes don’t necessarily need someone to step up and command the microphone. They might, however, exercise the kind of restrained patience that, for me at least, tends to make for notable instrumental metal/rock.

Rating: 2.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 128 kbps mp3
Label: Braeburn Records
Websites: Official | Instagram | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: August 14th, 2026

Show 2 footnotes

1. Yes, Brann Dailor also sings for Mastodon, but not at the outset. ↩
2. The band also cite Deafheaven and God Is an Astronaut as influences. ↩

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

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