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Ain Sof Aur – Theos-Vel-Samael Review
Be honest: what do you expect experimental blackened death metal steeped in Left-Hand-Path Occultism to sound like? Dissonant?…
#NewsBeep #News #Music #2026 #3.0 #AinSofAur #AltaroftheHornedGod #BlackMetal #BrazilianMetal #CA #Canada #CrypticShift #DeathMetal #Entertainment #ExperimentalDeathMetal #I #Mar26 #ProgressiveBlackMetal #review #reviews #Theos-Vel-Samael #Veilburner #VoidhangerRecords
https://www.newsbeep.com/ca/573615/ -
Ain Sof Aur – Theos-Vel-Samael Review By Thus SpokeBe honest: what do you expect experimental blackened death metal steeped in Left-Hand-Path Occultism to sound like? Dissonant? Oppressively heavy? Rhythmically complex and meandering? You wouldn’t be entirely wrong—in general, or in the particular case of Ain Sof Aur. Stereotypes exist for a reason. But Theos-Vel-Samael—serves as a vessel not only for a ceremonial invocation of wisdom-bringing darkness,1 but also the interaction between musical identity and ideology. Our assumptions about the sound and style of heavy music associated with certain fringe spiritualities are a strange mirror of the demonisation heaped upon metal overall in mainstream media from the Satanic Panic onwards, though informed at least through experience and some degree of appreciation rather than ignorance and distaste. These ideas break down when we turn to extreme metal, where Ain Sof Aur and others like them sit: a sphere defined by pushing boundaries of complexity, intensity, and heaviness—itself a natural extension of the wider genre’s core trait of subversion. Theos-Vel-Samael is an extreme metal album expressing mysticisms at least adjacent to Luciferianism, and using any preconceived notion of these ideologies obscures the music’s actuality.
Theos-Vel-Samael prompts me to wax philosophical by its very essence. Its 45-minute runtime is divided into three movements simply labelled “I,” “II,” and “III”—though Ain Sof Aur explain that each respectively embody the progressive stages of the invocation: “vision,” “force,” and “action.” This itself is a kind of stereotype, and one could speculate on whether the steady contraction of song length across the record is saying anything about the significance placed on or effort required in each of “vision,” “force,” and “action”. The way these pieces enact their theme has more in common with a wonky, progressive strain of technical death metal than it does a diabolical, vehemently evil form of black metal; in many ways, it is weirdly reminiscent of Cryptic Shift in a Veilburner kind of setting, by way of Altar of the Horned God. “I” subverted my expectations entirely with its overwhelmingly exuberant tone—albeit in an odd key and time signature for much of the time—and “II” with lengthy passages of almost mellow atmospheric strumming. This isn’t a criticism but rather the point: The literal incantations that comprise the lyrics, and the artists’ say-so, are the tethers to the occult and so the almost Hathian melodeath charges and noodling amidst croaks and roars are to be taken at face value.
Theos-Vel-Samael by AIN SOF AUR
The other reason Theos-Vel-Samael causes me to wax philosophical is that it leaves me with strangely little else to say. There is much to appreciate: M.H.S’ gargling roars; L.B.W’s vivacious drum performance; the aforementioned creative approach to marrying discordant malice and melodiousness in such experimental, otherwise malevolent metal; Ain Sof Aur can turn a melodic phrase (“I,” “III”) and dramatic flourish (“II,” “III”). Yet it all feels somehow unfocused, and so less impactful. Moments of sanguinity are somehow bled dry—sometimes through repetition, but largely simply because they fade into the surrounding fluctuations of dissonance and harmony, choppy technical tempos, and the equal minimalism of pared-back stalks and full-speed double-bass (“I” is the worst offender here). “III” is possibly the strongest of the three tracks, arguably because of its superlative brevity2 condenses if not excises the detours from what is a solid, decisively unsettling extreme death metal composition. Indeed, taken piecemeal, Theos-Vel-Samael can captivate and swallow (just after “I”‘s midpoint, the minutes just before “II”s, “III”‘s closing act), but as a whole, it functions more as an enjoyably creepy, if hazily remembered, background soundscape.
And yet what is Ain Sof Aur’s objective with Theos-Vel-Samael other than to evoke some esoteric ceremony with their interpretive music? Should the freeform nature of this expression surprise or disappoint? Was I ever going to put one of these songs on a workout playlist? The writing could use some editing to be sure, but the musical elements themselves are stellar—everything from the eerie ambience to the most violent technicality is executed assertively. I enjoy my experience of the rite even if it doesn’t convert me.
To be brief—for the first time in this review—don’t let an intimidating subgenre label, theme, or I, Voidhanger’s reputation colour your feelings about Theos-Vel-Samael. It’s creepy and unusual, but with a firm grip on more familiar death metal stylings. It doesn’t waste (much) time meandering, but it does have room to breathe. You could do far worse when dabbling in the occult.
Rating: Good
#2026 #30 #AinSofAur #AltarOfTheHornedGod #BlackMetal #BrazilianMetal #CrypticShift #DeathMetal #ExperimentalDeathMetal #I #Mar26 #ProgressiveBlackMetal #Review #Reviews #TheosVelSamael #Veilburner #VoidhangerRecords
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: I, Voidhanger
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: March 27th, 2026 -
Ain Sof Aur – Theos-Vel-Samael Review By Thus SpokeBe honest: what do you expect experimental blackened death metal steeped in Left-Hand-Path Occultism to sound like? Dissonant? Oppressively heavy? Rhythmically complex and meandering? You wouldn’t be entirely wrong—in general, or in the particular case of Ain Sof Aur. Stereotypes exist for a reason. But Theos-Vel-Samael—serves as a vessel not only for a ceremonial invocation of wisdom-bringing darkness,1 but also the interaction between musical identity and ideology. Our assumptions about the sound and style of heavy music associated with certain fringe spiritualities are a strange mirror of the demonisation heaped upon metal overall in mainstream media from the Satanic Panic onwards, though informed at least through experience and some degree of appreciation rather than ignorance and distaste. These ideas break down when we turn to extreme metal, where Ain Sof Aur and others like them sit: a sphere defined by pushing boundaries of complexity, intensity, and heaviness—itself a natural extension of the wider genre’s core trait of subversion. Theos-Vel-Samael is an extreme metal album expressing mysticisms at least adjacent to Luciferianism, and using any preconceived notion of these ideologies obscures the music’s actuality.
Theos-Vel-Samael prompts me to wax philosophical by its very essence. Its 45-minute runtime is divided into three movements simply labelled “I,” “II,” and “III”—though Ain Sof Aur explain that each respectively embody the progressive stages of the invocation: “vision,” “force,” and “action.” This itself is a kind of stereotype, and one could speculate on whether the steady contraction of song length across the record is saying anything about the significance placed on or effort required in each of “vision,” “force,” and “action”. The way these pieces enact their theme has more in common with a wonky, progressive strain of technical death metal than it does a diabolical, vehemently evil form of black metal; in many ways, it is weirdly reminiscent of Cryptic Shift in a Veilburner kind of setting, by way of Altar of the Horned God. “I” subverted my expectations entirely with its overwhelmingly exuberant tone—albeit in an odd key and time signature for much of the time—and “II” with lengthy passages of almost mellow atmospheric strumming. This isn’t a criticism but rather the point: The literal incantations that comprise the lyrics, and the artists’ say-so, are the tethers to the occult and so the almost Hathian melodeath charges and noodling amidst croaks and roars are to be taken at face value.
Theos-Vel-Samael by AIN SOF AUR
The other reason Theos-Vel-Samael causes me to wax philosophical is that it leaves me with strangely little else to say. There is much to appreciate: M.H.S’ gargling roars; L.B.W’s vivacious drum performance; the aforementioned creative approach to marrying discordant malice and melodiousness in such experimental, otherwise malevolent metal; Ain Sof Aur can turn a melodic phrase (“I,” “III”) and dramatic flourish (“II,” “III”). Yet it all feels somehow unfocused, and so less impactful. Moments of sanguinity are somehow bled dry—sometimes through repetition, but largely simply because they fade into the surrounding fluctuations of dissonance and harmony, choppy technical tempos, and the equal minimalism of pared-back stalks and full-speed double-bass (“I” is the worst offender here). “III” is possibly the strongest of the three tracks, arguably because of its superlative brevity2 condenses if not excises the detours from what is a solid, decisively unsettling extreme death metal composition. Indeed, taken piecemeal, Theos-Vel-Samael can captivate and swallow (just after “I”‘s midpoint, the minutes just before “II”s, “III”‘s closing act), but as a whole, it functions more as an enjoyably creepy, if hazily remembered, background soundscape.
And yet what is Ain Sof Aur’s objective with Theos-Vel-Samael other than to evoke some esoteric ceremony with their interpretive music? Should the freeform nature of this expression surprise or disappoint? Was I ever going to put one of these songs on a workout playlist? The writing could use some editing to be sure, but the musical elements themselves are stellar—everything from the eerie ambience to the most violent technicality is executed assertively. I enjoy my experience of the rite even if it doesn’t convert me.
To be brief—for the first time in this review—don’t let an intimidating subgenre label, theme, or I, Voidhanger’s reputation colour your feelings about Theos-Vel-Samael. It’s creepy and unusual, but with a firm grip on more familiar death metal stylings. It doesn’t waste (much) time meandering, but it does have room to breathe. You could do far worse when dabbling in the occult.
Rating: Good
#2026 #30 #AinSofAur #AltarOfTheHornedGod #BlackMetal #BrazilianMetal #CrypticShift #DeathMetal #ExperimentalDeathMetal #I #Mar26 #ProgressiveBlackMetal #Review #Reviews #TheosVelSamael #Veilburner #VoidhangerRecords
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: I, Voidhanger
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: March 27th, 2026 -
Ain Sof Aur – Theos-Vel-Samael Review By Thus SpokeBe honest: what do you expect experimental blackened death metal steeped in Left-Hand-Path Occultism to sound like? Dissonant? Oppressively heavy? Rhythmically complex and meandering? You wouldn’t be entirely wrong—in general, or in the particular case of Ain Sof Aur. Stereotypes exist for a reason. But Theos-Vel-Samael—serves as a vessel not only for a ceremonial invocation of wisdom-bringing darkness,1 but also the interaction between musical identity and ideology. Our assumptions about the sound and style of heavy music associated with certain fringe spiritualities are a strange mirror of the demonisation heaped upon metal overall in mainstream media from the Satanic Panic onwards, though informed at least through experience and some degree of appreciation rather than ignorance and distaste. These ideas break down when we turn to extreme metal, where Ain Sof Aur and others like them sit: a sphere defined by pushing boundaries of complexity, intensity, and heaviness—itself a natural extension of the wider genre’s core trait of subversion. Theos-Vel-Samael is an extreme metal album expressing mysticisms at least adjacent to Luciferianism, and using any preconceived notion of these ideologies obscures the music’s actuality.
Theos-Vel-Samael prompts me to wax philosophical by its very essence. Its 45-minute runtime is divided into three movements simply labelled “I,” “II,” and “III”—though Ain Sof Aur explain that each respectively embody the progressive stages of the invocation: “vision,” “force,” and “action.” This itself is a kind of stereotype, and one could speculate on whether the steady contraction of song length across the record is saying anything about the significance placed on or effort required in each of “vision,” “force,” and “action”. The way these pieces enact their theme has more in common with a wonky, progressive strain of technical death metal than it does a diabolical, vehemently evil form of black metal; in many ways, it is weirdly reminiscent of Cryptic Shift in a Veilburner kind of setting, by way of Altar of the Horned God. “I” subverted my expectations entirely with its overwhelmingly exuberant tone—albeit in an odd key and time signature for much of the time—and “II” with lengthy passages of almost mellow atmospheric strumming. This isn’t a criticism but rather the point: The literal incantations that comprise the lyrics, and the artists’ say-so, are the tethers to the occult and so the almost Hathian melodeath charges and noodling amidst croaks and roars are to be taken at face value.
Theos-Vel-Samael by AIN SOF AUR
The other reason Theos-Vel-Samael causes me to wax philosophical is that it leaves me with strangely little else to say. There is much to appreciate: M.H.S’ gargling roars; L.B.W’s vivacious drum performance; the aforementioned creative approach to marrying discordant malice and melodiousness in such experimental, otherwise malevolent metal; Ain Sof Aur can turn a melodic phrase (“I,” “III”) and dramatic flourish (“II,” “III”). Yet it all feels somehow unfocused, and so less impactful. Moments of sanguinity are somehow bled dry—sometimes through repetition, but largely simply because they fade into the surrounding fluctuations of dissonance and harmony, choppy technical tempos, and the equal minimalism of pared-back stalks and full-speed double-bass (“I” is the worst offender here). “III” is possibly the strongest of the three tracks, arguably because of its superlative brevity2 condenses if not excises the detours from what is a solid, decisively unsettling extreme death metal composition. Indeed, taken piecemeal, Theos-Vel-Samael can captivate and swallow (just after “I”‘s midpoint, the minutes just before “II”s, “III”‘s closing act), but as a whole, it functions more as an enjoyably creepy, if hazily remembered, background soundscape.
And yet what is Ain Sof Aur’s objective with Theos-Vel-Samael other than to evoke some esoteric ceremony with their interpretive music? Should the freeform nature of this expression surprise or disappoint? Was I ever going to put one of these songs on a workout playlist? The writing could use some editing to be sure, but the musical elements themselves are stellar—everything from the eerie ambience to the most violent technicality is executed assertively. I enjoy my experience of the rite even if it doesn’t convert me.
To be brief—for the first time in this review—don’t let an intimidating subgenre label, theme, or I, Voidhanger’s reputation colour your feelings about Theos-Vel-Samael. It’s creepy and unusual, but with a firm grip on more familiar death metal stylings. It doesn’t waste (much) time meandering, but it does have room to breathe. You could do far worse when dabbling in the occult.
Rating: Good
#2026 #30 #AinSofAur #AltarOfTheHornedGod #BlackMetal #BrazilianMetal #CrypticShift #DeathMetal #ExperimentalDeathMetal #I #Mar26 #ProgressiveBlackMetal #Review #Reviews #TheosVelSamael #Veilburner #VoidhangerRecords
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: I, Voidhanger
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: March 27th, 2026 -
Ain Sof Aur – Theos-Vel-Samael Review By Thus SpokeBe honest: what do you expect experimental blackened death metal steeped in Left-Hand-Path Occultism to sound like? Dissonant? Oppressively heavy? Rhythmically complex and meandering? You wouldn’t be entirely wrong—in general, or in the particular case of Ain Sof Aur. Stereotypes exist for a reason. But Theos-Vel-Samael—serves as a vessel not only for a ceremonial invocation of wisdom-bringing darkness,1 but also the interaction between musical identity and ideology. Our assumptions about the sound and style of heavy music associated with certain fringe spiritualities are a strange mirror of the demonisation heaped upon metal overall in mainstream media from the Satanic Panic onwards, though informed at least through experience and some degree of appreciation rather than ignorance and distaste. These ideas break down when we turn to extreme metal, where Ain Sof Aur and others like them sit: a sphere defined by pushing boundaries of complexity, intensity, and heaviness—itself a natural extension of the wider genre’s core trait of subversion. Theos-Vel-Samael is an extreme metal album expressing mysticisms at least adjacent to Luciferianism, and using any preconceived notion of these ideologies obscures the music’s actuality.
Theos-Vel-Samael prompts me to wax philosophical by its very essence. Its 45-minute runtime is divided into three movements simply labelled “I,” “II,” and “III”—though Ain Sof Aur explain that each respectively embody the progressive stages of the invocation: “vision,” “force,” and “action.” This itself is a kind of stereotype, and one could speculate on whether the steady contraction of song length across the record is saying anything about the significance placed on or effort required in each of “vision,” “force,” and “action”. The way these pieces enact their theme has more in common with a wonky, progressive strain of technical death metal than it does a diabolical, vehemently evil form of black metal; in many ways, it is weirdly reminiscent of Cryptic Shift in a Veilburner kind of setting, by way of Altar of the Horned God. “I” subverted my expectations entirely with its overwhelmingly exuberant tone—albeit in an odd key and time signature for much of the time—and “II” with lengthy passages of almost mellow atmospheric strumming. This isn’t a criticism but rather the point: The literal incantations that comprise the lyrics, and the artists’ say-so, are the tethers to the occult and so the almost Hathian melodeath charges and noodling amidst croaks and roars are to be taken at face value.
Theos-Vel-Samael by AIN SOF AUR
The other reason Theos-Vel-Samael causes me to wax philosophical is that it leaves me with strangely little else to say. There is much to appreciate: M.H.S’ gargling roars; L.B.W’s vivacious drum performance; the aforementioned creative approach to marrying discordant malice and melodiousness in such experimental, otherwise malevolent metal; Ain Sof Aur can turn a melodic phrase (“I,” “III”) and dramatic flourish (“II,” “III”). Yet it all feels somehow unfocused, and so less impactful. Moments of sanguinity are somehow bled dry—sometimes through repetition, but largely simply because they fade into the surrounding fluctuations of dissonance and harmony, choppy technical tempos, and the equal minimalism of pared-back stalks and full-speed double-bass (“I” is the worst offender here). “III” is possibly the strongest of the three tracks, arguably because of its superlative brevity2 condenses if not excises the detours from what is a solid, decisively unsettling extreme death metal composition. Indeed, taken piecemeal, Theos-Vel-Samael can captivate and swallow (just after “I”‘s midpoint, the minutes just before “II”s, “III”‘s closing act), but as a whole, it functions more as an enjoyably creepy, if hazily remembered, background soundscape.
And yet what is Ain Sof Aur’s objective with Theos-Vel-Samael other than to evoke some esoteric ceremony with their interpretive music? Should the freeform nature of this expression surprise or disappoint? Was I ever going to put one of these songs on a workout playlist? The writing could use some editing to be sure, but the musical elements themselves are stellar—everything from the eerie ambience to the most violent technicality is executed assertively. I enjoy my experience of the rite even if it doesn’t convert me.
To be brief—for the first time in this review—don’t let an intimidating subgenre label, theme, or I, Voidhanger’s reputation colour your feelings about Theos-Vel-Samael. It’s creepy and unusual, but with a firm grip on more familiar death metal stylings. It doesn’t waste (much) time meandering, but it does have room to breathe. You could do far worse when dabbling in the occult.
Rating: Good
#2026 #30 #AinSofAur #AltarOfTheHornedGod #BlackMetal #BrazilianMetal #CrypticShift #DeathMetal #ExperimentalDeathMetal #I #Mar26 #ProgressiveBlackMetal #Review #Reviews #TheosVelSamael #Veilburner #VoidhangerRecords
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: I, Voidhanger
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: March 27th, 2026 -
Ain Sof Aur – Theos-Vel-Samael Review By Thus SpokeBe honest: what do you expect experimental blackened death metal steeped in Left-Hand-Path Occultism to sound like? Dissonant? Oppressively heavy? Rhythmically complex and meandering? You wouldn’t be entirely wrong—in general, or in the particular case of Ain Sof Aur. Stereotypes exist for a reason. But Theos-Vel-Samael—serves as a vessel not only for a ceremonial invocation of wisdom-bringing darkness,1 but also the interaction between musical identity and ideology. Our assumptions about the sound and style of heavy music associated with certain fringe spiritualities are a strange mirror of the demonisation heaped upon metal overall in mainstream media from the Satanic Panic onwards, though informed at least through experience and some degree of appreciation rather than ignorance and distaste. These ideas break down when we turn to extreme metal, where Ain Sof Aur and others like them sit: a sphere defined by pushing boundaries of complexity, intensity, and heaviness—itself a natural extension of the wider genre’s core trait of subversion. Theos-Vel-Samael is an extreme metal album expressing mysticisms at least adjacent to Luciferianism, and using any preconceived notion of these ideologies obscures the music’s actuality.
Theos-Vel-Samael prompts me to wax philosophical by its very essence. Its 45-minute runtime is divided into three movements simply labelled “I,” “II,” and “III”—though Ain Sof Aur explain that each respectively embody the progressive stages of the invocation: “vision,” “force,” and “action.” This itself is a kind of stereotype, and one could speculate on whether the steady contraction of song length across the record is saying anything about the significance placed on or effort required in each of “vision,” “force,” and “action”. The way these pieces enact their theme has more in common with a wonky, progressive strain of technical death metal than it does a diabolical, vehemently evil form of black metal; in many ways, it is weirdly reminiscent of Cryptic Shift in a Veilburner kind of setting, by way of Altar of the Horned God. “I” subverted my expectations entirely with its overwhelmingly exuberant tone—albeit in an odd key and time signature for much of the time—and “II” with lengthy passages of almost mellow atmospheric strumming. This isn’t a criticism but rather the point: The literal incantations that comprise the lyrics, and the artists’ say-so, are the tethers to the occult and so the almost Hathian melodeath charges and noodling amidst croaks and roars are to be taken at face value.
Theos-Vel-Samael by AIN SOF AUR
The other reason Theos-Vel-Samael causes me to wax philosophical is that it leaves me with strangely little else to say. There is much to appreciate: M.H.S’ gargling roars; L.B.W’s vivacious drum performance; the aforementioned creative approach to marrying discordant malice and melodiousness in such experimental, otherwise malevolent metal; Ain Sof Aur can turn a melodic phrase (“I,” “III”) and dramatic flourish (“II,” “III”). Yet it all feels somehow unfocused, and so less impactful. Moments of sanguinity are somehow bled dry—sometimes through repetition, but largely simply because they fade into the surrounding fluctuations of dissonance and harmony, choppy technical tempos, and the equal minimalism of pared-back stalks and full-speed double-bass (“I” is the worst offender here). “III” is possibly the strongest of the three tracks, arguably because of its superlative brevity2 condenses if not excises the detours from what is a solid, decisively unsettling extreme death metal composition. Indeed, taken piecemeal, Theos-Vel-Samael can captivate and swallow (just after “I”‘s midpoint, the minutes just before “II”s, “III”‘s closing act), but as a whole, it functions more as an enjoyably creepy, if hazily remembered, background soundscape.
And yet what is Ain Sof Aur’s objective with Theos-Vel-Samael other than to evoke some esoteric ceremony with their interpretive music? Should the freeform nature of this expression surprise or disappoint? Was I ever going to put one of these songs on a workout playlist? The writing could use some editing to be sure, but the musical elements themselves are stellar—everything from the eerie ambience to the most violent technicality is executed assertively. I enjoy my experience of the rite even if it doesn’t convert me.
To be brief—for the first time in this review—don’t let an intimidating subgenre label, theme, or I, Voidhanger’s reputation colour your feelings about Theos-Vel-Samael. It’s creepy and unusual, but with a firm grip on more familiar death metal stylings. It doesn’t waste (much) time meandering, but it does have room to breathe. You could do far worse when dabbling in the occult.
Rating: Good
#2026 #30 #AinSofAur #AltarOfTheHornedGod #BlackMetal #BrazilianMetal #CrypticShift #DeathMetal #ExperimentalDeathMetal #I #Mar26 #ProgressiveBlackMetal #Review #Reviews #TheosVelSamael #Veilburner #VoidhangerRecords
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: I, Voidhanger
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: March 27th, 2026 -
Death Obvious – Death Obvious Review
By Andy-War-Hall
Back in August, I went goo-goo over an avant-black duo under Transcending Obscurity called Hexrot and, as a lowly N00b, awarded their debut Formless Ruin of Oblivion a “Great” designation.1 Flash forward, and sloshing through the promo sump comes an avant-black duo under Transcending Obscurity called Death Obvious, offering their self-titled debut. Composed of vocalist Lea Lavey and everything-else-er Sima Sioux,2 this Finnish duo reveal high aspirations with claims of “crafting music as it suits their demented vision in a recklessly intuitive manner” while pitching Death Obvious for fans of visionary acts like Blut aus Nord, Deathspell Omega, Veilburner and—looky!—Hexrot. My excitement in snagging Death Obvious was, like Death Obvious’ apparent expectations, quite high. Does Death Obvious live up to either?
With Death Obvious, you can pick out distinct moments of black, death and doom metal bubbling to the surface of Death Obvious’ style-soup. Death Obvious is sworn chiefly to the blackened arts, communicating primarily through Lavey’s hideous rasps and Sioux’s tremolo riffs and blast beats, with second-wave inspired ragers “The Third Eye Burning” and “Mercury Off Axis” making no bones about their caustic, reverb-heavy attack. Death and doom are the more secondary sounds of Death Obvious, with death appearing on the chunkier, mid-paced moments of songs like “Sanctuario” and doom manifesting into spacier, drawn-out passages like the start of “The Great Gate Theory,” which put me in mind, surprisingly, of Khemmis’ Hunted. When Death Obvious’ songwriting clicks, like on album highlight “Sanctuario” or portions of closer “Catechismus for the Plagued,” sounds really do hurtle in exciting, dangerous manners that makes Death Obvious a killer listen.
Most of Death Obvious is indistinct, however, due to Death Obvious’ directionless songwriting and murky production. Death Obvious relishes in dissonance both clean (“Total Heavenly Desolation”) and dirty (“Suffer the Spectacle”). But instead of building tension or suspense, Death Obvious creates tedium through dissonance, leading to neither release nor deeper discomfort but to a monotonous drone of black metal murk. This is exacerbated by Sioux’s guitar tone, which in Death Obvious’ faster moments can sound like a totally nebulous melange of reverb. To their credit, Death Obvious’ bass-forward mixing helps mitigate this somewhat, providing plucky, crunchy bass riffs like on “The Great Gate Theory.” It does nothing, however, for the busy, opaque mix that, damn the DR score, sounds boxed-in and flat. Death Obvious’ noise problem is encapsulated right off with “Mercury Off Axis,” opening with an excruciating, high-pitched drill sound that puts me in mind of the dentist and carries on well past its intro. It’s not pleasant, Obviously the point, but it’s not interesting either.
Death Obvious falters because Death Obvious simply doesn’t bring enough to the table. Not only is structure neglected on Death Obvious, but individual songs largely have little going for them beyond the black metal basics; over-repetition is chronic on tracks like “As Absence Expands over Everything,” and monotony abounds because of it. Beyond rare instances of effective piano and non-dental sound effects, Death Obvious blurs together in limited patterns played ad nauseam, making it an effort for the listener to stay focused throughout. Like how Death Obvious’ style issues were made plain by its opener, its songwriting woes are exemplified by its eight-minute closer, “Catechismus for the Plagued.” Half of “Catechismus…” anyway: the half that is one (1) riff, two (2) chords sharing one (1) root note hammered on and off at straight eighth notes with zero variation in dynamics or accent.3 The other half with creepy keys and an otherworldly soundscape shows what Death Obvious can be when playing inspired material. The one riff is what Death Obvious mostly offers: after a while, it doesn’t really sound like anything.
Death Obvious embodies the obtuse nature of avant-garde music with little of the adventurousness of its best practitioners. Instead of sounding unbound, it feels as though Death Obvious let the songs get away from them. I’m not sure if Death Obvious needs more editing, further drafting or both, but as is I can hardly pay attention for the entirety of one listen through. Death Obvious are a talented duo, and I believe they’ll have better material down the line, as moments throughout their debut hint at better things to come. However, not only did I not go goo-goo over Death Obvious, but I’m sure I won’t be returning to it much at all.
Rating: Bad
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps MP3
Label: Transcending Obscurity Records
Websites: deathobvious.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/DeathObvious
Releases Worldwide: December 5th, 2025#15 #2025 #avanteGarde #blackMetal #blutAusNord #deathMetal #deathObvious #deathspellOmega #dec25 #doomMetal #finnishMetal #hexrot #khemmis #review #reviews #transcendingObscurityRecords #veilburner #vomitheist
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Death Obvious – Death Obvious Review
By Andy-War-Hall
Back in August, I went goo-goo over an avant-black duo under Transcending Obscurity called Hexrot and, as a lowly N00b, awarded their debut Formless Ruin of Oblivion a “Great” designation.1 Flash forward, and sloshing through the promo sump comes an avant-black duo under Transcending Obscurity called Death Obvious, offering their self-titled debut. Composed of vocalist Lea Lavey and everything-else-er Sima Sioux,2 this Finnish duo reveal high aspirations with claims of “crafting music as it suits their demented vision in a recklessly intuitive manner” while pitching Death Obvious for fans of visionary acts like Blut aus Nord, Deathspell Omega, Veilburner and—looky!—Hexrot. My excitement in snagging Death Obvious was, like Death Obvious’ apparent expectations, quite high. Does Death Obvious live up to either?
With Death Obvious, you can pick out distinct moments of black, death and doom metal bubbling to the surface of Death Obvious’ style-soup. Death Obvious is sworn chiefly to the blackened arts, communicating primarily through Lavey’s hideous rasps and Sioux’s tremolo riffs and blast beats, with second-wave inspired ragers “The Third Eye Burning” and “Mercury Off Axis” making no bones about their caustic, reverb-heavy attack. Death and doom are the more secondary sounds of Death Obvious, with death appearing on the chunkier, mid-paced moments of songs like “Sanctuario” and doom manifesting into spacier, drawn-out passages like the start of “The Great Gate Theory,” which put me in mind, surprisingly, of Khemmis’ Hunted. When Death Obvious’ songwriting clicks, like on album highlight “Sanctuario” or portions of closer “Catechismus for the Plagued,” sounds really do hurtle in exciting, dangerous manners that makes Death Obvious a killer listen.
Most of Death Obvious is indistinct, however, due to Death Obvious’ directionless songwriting and murky production. Death Obvious relishes in dissonance both clean (“Total Heavenly Desolation”) and dirty (“Suffer the Spectacle”). But instead of building tension or suspense, Death Obvious creates tedium through dissonance, leading to neither release nor deeper discomfort but to a monotonous drone of black metal murk. This is exacerbated by Sioux’s guitar tone, which in Death Obvious’ faster moments can sound like a totally nebulous melange of reverb. To their credit, Death Obvious’ bass-forward mixing helps mitigate this somewhat, providing plucky, crunchy bass riffs like on “The Great Gate Theory.” It does nothing, however, for the busy, opaque mix that, damn the DR score, sounds boxed-in and flat. Death Obvious’ noise problem is encapsulated right off with “Mercury Off Axis,” opening with an excruciating, high-pitched drill sound that puts me in mind of the dentist and carries on well past its intro. It’s not pleasant, Obviously the point, but it’s not interesting either.
Death Obvious falters because Death Obvious simply doesn’t bring enough to the table. Not only is structure neglected on Death Obvious, but individual songs largely have little going for them beyond the black metal basics; over-repetition is chronic on tracks like “As Absence Expands over Everything,” and monotony abounds because of it. Beyond rare instances of effective piano and non-dental sound effects, Death Obvious blurs together in limited patterns played ad nauseam, making it an effort for the listener to stay focused throughout. Like how Death Obvious’ style issues were made plain by its opener, its songwriting woes are exemplified by its eight-minute closer, “Catechismus for the Plagued.” Half of “Catechismus…” anyway: the half that is one (1) riff, two (2) chords sharing one (1) root note hammered on and off at straight eighth notes with zero variation in dynamics or accent.3 The other half with creepy keys and an otherworldly soundscape shows what Death Obvious can be when playing inspired material. The one riff is what Death Obvious mostly offers: after a while, it doesn’t really sound like anything.
Death Obvious embodies the obtuse nature of avant-garde music with little of the adventurousness of its best practitioners. Instead of sounding unbound, it feels as though Death Obvious let the songs get away from them. I’m not sure if Death Obvious needs more editing, further drafting or both, but as is I can hardly pay attention for the entirety of one listen through. Death Obvious are a talented duo, and I believe they’ll have better material down the line, as moments throughout their debut hint at better things to come. However, not only did I not go goo-goo over Death Obvious, but I’m sure I won’t be returning to it much at all.
Rating: Bad
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps MP3
Label: Transcending Obscurity Records
Websites: deathobvious.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/DeathObvious
Releases Worldwide: December 5th, 2025#15 #2025 #avanteGarde #blackMetal #blutAusNord #deathMetal #deathObvious #deathspellOmega #dec25 #doomMetal #finnishMetal #hexrot #khemmis #review #reviews #transcendingObscurityRecords #veilburner #vomitheist
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Death Obvious – Death Obvious Review
By Andy-War-Hall
Back in August, I went goo-goo over an avant-black duo under Transcending Obscurity called Hexrot and, as a lowly N00b, awarded their debut Formless Ruin of Oblivion a “Great” designation.1 Flash forward, and sloshing through the promo sump comes an avant-black duo under Transcending Obscurity called Death Obvious, offering their self-titled debut. Composed of vocalist Lea Lavey and everything-else-er Sima Sioux,2 this Finnish duo reveal high aspirations with claims of “crafting music as it suits their demented vision in a recklessly intuitive manner” while pitching Death Obvious for fans of visionary acts like Blut aus Nord, Deathspell Omega, Veilburner and—looky!—Hexrot. My excitement in snagging Death Obvious was, like Death Obvious’ apparent expectations, quite high. Does Death Obvious live up to either?
With Death Obvious, you can pick out distinct moments of black, death and doom metal bubbling to the surface of Death Obvious’ style-soup. Death Obvious is sworn chiefly to the blackened arts, communicating primarily through Lavey’s hideous rasps and Sioux’s tremolo riffs and blast beats, with second-wave inspired ragers “The Third Eye Burning” and “Mercury Off Axis” making no bones about their caustic, reverb-heavy attack. Death and doom are the more secondary sounds of Death Obvious, with death appearing on the chunkier, mid-paced moments of songs like “Sanctuario” and doom manifesting into spacier, drawn-out passages like the start of “The Great Gate Theory,” which put me in mind, surprisingly, of Khemmis’ Hunted. When Death Obvious’ songwriting clicks, like on album highlight “Sanctuario” or portions of closer “Catechismus for the Plagued,” sounds really do hurtle in exciting, dangerous manners that makes Death Obvious a killer listen.
Most of Death Obvious is indistinct, however, due to Death Obvious’ directionless songwriting and murky production. Death Obvious relishes in dissonance both clean (“Total Heavenly Desolation”) and dirty (“Suffer the Spectacle”). But instead of building tension or suspense, Death Obvious creates tedium through dissonance, leading to neither release nor deeper discomfort but to a monotonous drone of black metal murk. This is exacerbated by Sioux’s guitar tone, which in Death Obvious’ faster moments can sound like a totally nebulous melange of reverb. To their credit, Death Obvious’ bass-forward mixing helps mitigate this somewhat, providing plucky, crunchy bass riffs like on “The Great Gate Theory.” It does nothing, however, for the busy, opaque mix that, damn the DR score, sounds boxed-in and flat. Death Obvious’ noise problem is encapsulated right off with “Mercury Off Axis,” opening with an excruciating, high-pitched drill sound that puts me in mind of the dentist and carries on well past its intro. It’s not pleasant, Obviously the point, but it’s not interesting either.
Death Obvious falters because Death Obvious simply doesn’t bring enough to the table. Not only is structure neglected on Death Obvious, but individual songs largely have little going for them beyond the black metal basics; over-repetition is chronic on tracks like “As Absence Expands over Everything,” and monotony abounds because of it. Beyond rare instances of effective piano and non-dental sound effects, Death Obvious blurs together in limited patterns played ad nauseam, making it an effort for the listener to stay focused throughout. Like how Death Obvious’ style issues were made plain by its opener, its songwriting woes are exemplified by its eight-minute closer, “Catechismus for the Plagued.” Half of “Catechismus…” anyway: the half that is one (1) riff, two (2) chords sharing one (1) root note hammered on and off at straight eighth notes with zero variation in dynamics or accent.3 The other half with creepy keys and an otherworldly soundscape shows what Death Obvious can be when playing inspired material. The one riff is what Death Obvious mostly offers: after a while, it doesn’t really sound like anything.
Death Obvious embodies the obtuse nature of avant-garde music with little of the adventurousness of its best practitioners. Instead of sounding unbound, it feels as though Death Obvious let the songs get away from them. I’m not sure if Death Obvious needs more editing, further drafting or both, but as is I can hardly pay attention for the entirety of one listen through. Death Obvious are a talented duo, and I believe they’ll have better material down the line, as moments throughout their debut hint at better things to come. However, not only did I not go goo-goo over Death Obvious, but I’m sure I won’t be returning to it much at all.
Rating: Bad
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps MP3
Label: Transcending Obscurity Records
Websites: deathobvious.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/DeathObvious
Releases Worldwide: December 5th, 2025#15 #2025 #avanteGarde #blackMetal #blutAusNord #deathMetal #deathObvious #deathspellOmega #dec25 #doomMetal #finnishMetal #hexrot #khemmis #review #reviews #transcendingObscurityRecords #veilburner #vomitheist
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Death Obvious – Death Obvious Review
By Andy-War-Hall
Back in August, I went goo-goo over an avant-black duo under Transcending Obscurity called Hexrot and, as a lowly N00b, awarded their debut Formless Ruin of Oblivion a “Great” designation.1 Flash forward, and sloshing through the promo sump comes an avant-black duo under Transcending Obscurity called Death Obvious, offering their self-titled debut. Composed of vocalist Lea Lavey and everything-else-er Sima Sioux,2 this Finnish duo reveal high aspirations with claims of “crafting music as it suits their demented vision in a recklessly intuitive manner” while pitching Death Obvious for fans of visionary acts like Blut aus Nord, Deathspell Omega, Veilburner and—looky!—Hexrot. My excitement in snagging Death Obvious was, like Death Obvious’ apparent expectations, quite high. Does Death Obvious live up to either?
With Death Obvious, you can pick out distinct moments of black, death and doom metal bubbling to the surface of Death Obvious’ style-soup. Death Obvious is sworn chiefly to the blackened arts, communicating primarily through Lavey’s hideous rasps and Sioux’s tremolo riffs and blast beats, with second-wave inspired ragers “The Third Eye Burning” and “Mercury Off Axis” making no bones about their caustic, reverb-heavy attack. Death and doom are the more secondary sounds of Death Obvious, with death appearing on the chunkier, mid-paced moments of songs like “Sanctuario” and doom manifesting into spacier, drawn-out passages like the start of “The Great Gate Theory,” which put me in mind, surprisingly, of Khemmis’ Hunted. When Death Obvious’ songwriting clicks, like on album highlight “Sanctuario” or portions of closer “Catechismus for the Plagued,” sounds really do hurtle in exciting, dangerous manners that makes Death Obvious a killer listen.
Most of Death Obvious is indistinct, however, due to Death Obvious’ directionless songwriting and murky production. Death Obvious relishes in dissonance both clean (“Total Heavenly Desolation”) and dirty (“Suffer the Spectacle”). But instead of building tension or suspense, Death Obvious creates tedium through dissonance, leading to neither release nor deeper discomfort but to a monotonous drone of black metal murk. This is exacerbated by Sioux’s guitar tone, which in Death Obvious’ faster moments can sound like a totally nebulous melange of reverb. To their credit, Death Obvious’ bass-forward mixing helps mitigate this somewhat, providing plucky, crunchy bass riffs like on “The Great Gate Theory.” It does nothing, however, for the busy, opaque mix that, damn the DR score, sounds boxed-in and flat. Death Obvious’ noise problem is encapsulated right off with “Mercury Off Axis,” opening with an excruciating, high-pitched drill sound that puts me in mind of the dentist and carries on well past its intro. It’s not pleasant, Obviously the point, but it’s not interesting either.
Death Obvious falters because Death Obvious simply doesn’t bring enough to the table. Not only is structure neglected on Death Obvious, but individual songs largely have little going for them beyond the black metal basics; over-repetition is chronic on tracks like “As Absence Expands over Everything,” and monotony abounds because of it. Beyond rare instances of effective piano and non-dental sound effects, Death Obvious blurs together in limited patterns played ad nauseam, making it an effort for the listener to stay focused throughout. Like how Death Obvious’ style issues were made plain by its opener, its songwriting woes are exemplified by its eight-minute closer, “Catechismus for the Plagued.” Half of “Catechismus…” anyway: the half that is one (1) riff, two (2) chords sharing one (1) root note hammered on and off at straight eighth notes with zero variation in dynamics or accent.3 The other half with creepy keys and an otherworldly soundscape shows what Death Obvious can be when playing inspired material. The one riff is what Death Obvious mostly offers: after a while, it doesn’t really sound like anything.
Death Obvious embodies the obtuse nature of avant-garde music with little of the adventurousness of its best practitioners. Instead of sounding unbound, it feels as though Death Obvious let the songs get away from them. I’m not sure if Death Obvious needs more editing, further drafting or both, but as is I can hardly pay attention for the entirety of one listen through. Death Obvious are a talented duo, and I believe they’ll have better material down the line, as moments throughout their debut hint at better things to come. However, not only did I not go goo-goo over Death Obvious, but I’m sure I won’t be returning to it much at all.
Rating: Bad
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps MP3
Label: Transcending Obscurity Records
Websites: deathobvious.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/DeathObvious
Releases Worldwide: December 5th, 2025#15 #2025 #avanteGarde #blackMetal #blutAusNord #deathMetal #deathObvious #deathspellOmega #dec25 #doomMetal #finnishMetal #hexrot #khemmis #review #reviews #transcendingObscurityRecords #veilburner #vomitheist
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Death Obvious – Death Obvious Review
By Andy-War-Hall
Back in August, I went goo-goo over an avant-black duo under Transcending Obscurity called Hexrot and, as a lowly N00b, awarded their debut Formless Ruin of Oblivion a “Great” designation.1 Flash forward, and sloshing through the promo sump comes an avant-black duo under Transcending Obscurity called Death Obvious, offering their self-titled debut. Composed of vocalist Lea Lavey and everything-else-er Sima Sioux,2 this Finnish duo reveal high aspirations with claims of “crafting music as it suits their demented vision in a recklessly intuitive manner” while pitching Death Obvious for fans of visionary acts like Blut aus Nord, Deathspell Omega, Veilburner and—looky!—Hexrot. My excitement in snagging Death Obvious was, like Death Obvious’ apparent expectations, quite high. Does Death Obvious live up to either?
With Death Obvious, you can pick out distinct moments of black, death and doom metal bubbling to the surface of Death Obvious’ style-soup. Death Obvious is sworn chiefly to the blackened arts, communicating primarily through Lavey’s hideous rasps and Sioux’s tremolo riffs and blast beats, with second-wave inspired ragers “The Third Eye Burning” and “Mercury Off Axis” making no bones about their caustic, reverb-heavy attack. Death and doom are the more secondary sounds of Death Obvious, with death appearing on the chunkier, mid-paced moments of songs like “Sanctuario” and doom manifesting into spacier, drawn-out passages like the start of “The Great Gate Theory,” which put me in mind, surprisingly, of Khemmis’ Hunted. When Death Obvious’ songwriting clicks, like on album highlight “Sanctuario” or portions of closer “Catechismus for the Plagued,” sounds really do hurtle in exciting, dangerous manners that makes Death Obvious a killer listen.
Most of Death Obvious is indistinct, however, due to Death Obvious’ directionless songwriting and murky production. Death Obvious relishes in dissonance both clean (“Total Heavenly Desolation”) and dirty (“Suffer the Spectacle”). But instead of building tension or suspense, Death Obvious creates tedium through dissonance, leading to neither release nor deeper discomfort but to a monotonous drone of black metal murk. This is exacerbated by Sioux’s guitar tone, which in Death Obvious’ faster moments can sound like a totally nebulous melange of reverb. To their credit, Death Obvious’ bass-forward mixing helps mitigate this somewhat, providing plucky, crunchy bass riffs like on “The Great Gate Theory.” It does nothing, however, for the busy, opaque mix that, damn the DR score, sounds boxed-in and flat. Death Obvious’ noise problem is encapsulated right off with “Mercury Off Axis,” opening with an excruciating, high-pitched drill sound that puts me in mind of the dentist and carries on well past its intro. It’s not pleasant, Obviously the point, but it’s not interesting either.
Death Obvious falters because Death Obvious simply doesn’t bring enough to the table. Not only is structure neglected on Death Obvious, but individual songs largely have little going for them beyond the black metal basics; over-repetition is chronic on tracks like “As Absence Expands over Everything,” and monotony abounds because of it. Beyond rare instances of effective piano and non-dental sound effects, Death Obvious blurs together in limited patterns played ad nauseam, making it an effort for the listener to stay focused throughout. Like how Death Obvious’ style issues were made plain by its opener, its songwriting woes are exemplified by its eight-minute closer, “Catechismus for the Plagued.” Half of “Catechismus…” anyway: the half that is one (1) riff, two (2) chords sharing one (1) root note hammered on and off at straight eighth notes with zero variation in dynamics or accent.3 The other half with creepy keys and an otherworldly soundscape shows what Death Obvious can be when playing inspired material. The one riff is what Death Obvious mostly offers: after a while, it doesn’t really sound like anything.
Death Obvious embodies the obtuse nature of avant-garde music with little of the adventurousness of its best practitioners. Instead of sounding unbound, it feels as though Death Obvious let the songs get away from them. I’m not sure if Death Obvious needs more editing, further drafting or both, but as is I can hardly pay attention for the entirety of one listen through. Death Obvious are a talented duo, and I believe they’ll have better material down the line, as moments throughout their debut hint at better things to come. However, not only did I not go goo-goo over Death Obvious, but I’m sure I won’t be returning to it much at all.
Rating: Bad
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps MP3
Label: Transcending Obscurity Records
Websites: deathobvious.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/DeathObvious
Releases Worldwide: December 5th, 2025#15 #2025 #avanteGarde #blackMetal #blutAusNord #deathMetal #deathObvious #deathspellOmega #dec25 #doomMetal #finnishMetal #hexrot #khemmis #review #reviews #transcendingObscurityRecords #veilburner #vomitheist
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Misanthropy – The Ever-Crushing Weight of Stagnance Review
By Kenstrosity
Apparently, Chicago progressive tech death quartet Misanthropy used to play thrash metal. Once I learned of this shift, it felt like I could suddenly hear a thrashy thread running through their newest release, The Ever-Crushing Weight of Stagnance. Having no prior experience with Misanthropy’s back catalog, I walked into their third record with an open mind, ready and willing to be probed by the wild and the wacky. Sometimes, unexpected changes make for unexpected pleasures.
You’d be forgiven for mistakenly clocking Misanthropy as boilerplate tech death based solely on outward appearances. You’d nonetheless be incorrect. For the longest time, I struggled to nail down exactly what amalgamation of sounds and styles Misanthropy represented. But then I started writing this piece and it hit me. Imagine a dirtier Augury fed through an Atrae Bilis filter and finished with a proggy Atvm glaze, and you have a roughly accurate blueprint of what to expect from current Misanthropy. Twisting, gnarled compositions, motivated by Paul’s multifaceted kitwork, mesh and morph against guitarists Kevin’s and Jose Valles’ unending cavalcade of mind-shredding riffs. Mark’s burbling bass and vicious vox form both the throbbing underbelly and the piercing voice of the record, propelling The Ever-Crushing Weight of Stagnance through its forty-five-minute tale with gusto and gravity. In totality, The Ever-Crushing Weight of Stagnance represents a fierce and furious affair. Yet, countless stops and swaps between blistering grooves, manic freakouts, mind-melting churns, and ground-shaking stomps leave me mostly rapt throughout.
Highlighting standout moments on The Ever-Crushing Weight of Stagnance proves a challenge, as Misanthropy penned so many killer passages into these seven songs that it’s hard to pick favorites. Even so, massive pit-opening grooves and slithering riffs elevate thrashier songs like “The All-Devouring” to the top of the pile. An eerie, waltzing dalliance with jazz rhythms allows opener “Of Sulking and the Wrathful” to shine in its back half as well, showcasing Misanthropy’s knack for oddball transitions that work deceivingly well in the context of their chosen style. At first I struggled to appreciate “Condemned to a Nameless Tomb” and “Descent” for their unorthodox combination of Veilburner stream-of-consciousness writing and Artificial Brain shimmer, but with time I grew to appreciate their place in the lineup as the next-door-neighbor monstrosities that they are. Unafraid to get down and dirty, “Sepulcher” offers just the right amount of funky Alkaloid intelligence to offset filthy Incantation tones and harmonized riffing, expertly juggling straightforward and slimy with weird and wretched.
Impressive though it is that Misanthropy managed to cover so much stylistic ground without sullying their unique new character, The Ever-Crushing Weight of Stagnance remains a touch disjointed as a whole. Tonally, Misanthropy play fearlessly with rough-hewn textures inside a more clinical environment, but there are moments of mild uncanny valley associated with that experiment, as certain elements of Misanthropy’s flexible sound clash rather than coalesce (“A Cure for the Pestilence”). Misanthropy’s willingness and ability to throw everything but the kitchen sink at their compositions without totally destabilizing everything deserves great respect, but it sometimes comes at the cost of fluidity and cohesion (“Consumed by the Abyss”). This, therefore, makes certain sections of The Ever-Crushing Weight of Stagnance somewhat difficult to listen to casually, as I often lose details or miss quality segments when not listening intently. Additionally, the occasional abrupt switch between unexpected change-ups make already lengthy tracks (most soar past the six minute mark) feel even lengthier.
Thankfully, listening intently is quite literally my job here, and I spend lots of time with my charges. Consequently, I can assure you that The Ever-Crushing Weight of Stagnance represents yet another killer in Transcending Obscurity’s lineup of crazy beasts. It may not be everyone’s favorite creature, but if you aren’t careful, it’s liable to sink its teeth into your flesh and rend it from the bone regardless. Some, if not most, of you would probably love that, I’m sure. If so, Misanthropy’s third unleashment is a fine selection for your sick kicks.
Rating: Very Good
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Transcending Obscurity Records
Websites: misanthropychicago.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/MisanthropyChicago
Releases Worldwide: December 13th, 2024#2024 #35 #Alkaloid #AmericanMetal #ArtificialBrain #AtraeBilis #Atvm #Augury #DeathMetal #Dec24 #Incantation #Misanthropy #ProgressiveDeathMetal #ProgressiveMetal #Review #Reviews #TechnicalDeathMetal #TheEverCrushingWeightOfStagnance #TranscendingObscurityRecords #Veilburner
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Misanthropy – The Ever-Crushing Weight of Stagnance Review
By Kenstrosity
Apparently, Chicago progressive tech death quartet Misanthropy used to play thrash metal. Once I learned of this shift, it felt like I could suddenly hear a thrashy thread running through their newest release, The Ever-Crushing Weight of Stagnance. Having no prior experience with Misanthropy’s back catalog, I walked into their third record with an open mind, ready and willing to be probed by the wild and the wacky. Sometimes, unexpected changes make for unexpected pleasures.
You’d be forgiven for mistakenly clocking Misanthropy as boilerplate tech death based solely on outward appearances. You’d nonetheless be incorrect. For the longest time, I struggled to nail down exactly what amalgamation of sounds and styles Misanthropy represented. But then I started writing this piece and it hit me. Imagine a dirtier Augury fed through an Atrae Bilis filter and finished with a proggy Atvm glaze, and you have a roughly accurate blueprint of what to expect from current Misanthropy. Twisting, gnarled compositions, motivated by Paul’s multifaceted kitwork, mesh and morph against guitarists Kevin’s and Jose Valles’ unending cavalcade of mind-shredding riffs. Mark’s burbling bass and vicious vox form both the throbbing underbelly and the piercing voice of the record, propelling The Ever-Crushing Weight of Stagnance through its forty-five-minute tale with gusto and gravity. In totality, The Ever-Crushing Weight of Stagnance represents a fierce and furious affair. Yet, countless stops and swaps between blistering grooves, manic freakouts, mind-melting churns, and ground-shaking stomps leave me mostly rapt throughout.
Highlighting standout moments on The Ever-Crushing Weight of Stagnance proves a challenge, as Misanthropy penned so many killer passages into these seven songs that it’s hard to pick favorites. Even so, massive pit-opening grooves and slithering riffs elevate thrashier songs like “The All-Devouring” to the top of the pile. An eerie, waltzing dalliance with jazz rhythms allows opener “Of Sulking and the Wrathful” to shine in its back half as well, showcasing Misanthropy’s knack for oddball transitions that work deceivingly well in the context of their chosen style. At first I struggled to appreciate “Condemned to a Nameless Tomb” and “Descent” for their unorthodox combination of Veilburner stream-of-consciousness writing and Artificial Brain shimmer, but with time I grew to appreciate their place in the lineup as the next-door-neighbor monstrosities that they are. Unafraid to get down and dirty, “Sepulcher” offers just the right amount of funky Alkaloid intelligence to offset filthy Incantation tones and harmonized riffing, expertly juggling straightforward and slimy with weird and wretched.
Impressive though it is that Misanthropy managed to cover so much stylistic ground without sullying their unique new character, The Ever-Crushing Weight of Stagnance remains a touch disjointed as a whole. Tonally, Misanthropy play fearlessly with rough-hewn textures inside a more clinical environment, but there are moments of mild uncanny valley associated with that experiment, as certain elements of Misanthropy’s flexible sound clash rather than coalesce (“A Cure for the Pestilence”). Misanthropy’s willingness and ability to throw everything but the kitchen sink at their compositions without totally destabilizing everything deserves great respect, but it sometimes comes at the cost of fluidity and cohesion (“Consumed by the Abyss”). This, therefore, makes certain sections of The Ever-Crushing Weight of Stagnance somewhat difficult to listen to casually, as I often lose details or miss quality segments when not listening intently. Additionally, the occasional abrupt switch between unexpected change-ups make already lengthy tracks (most soar past the six minute mark) feel even lengthier.
Thankfully, listening intently is quite literally my job here, and I spend lots of time with my charges. Consequently, I can assure you that The Ever-Crushing Weight of Stagnance represents yet another killer in Transcending Obscurity’s lineup of crazy beasts. It may not be everyone’s favorite creature, but if you aren’t careful, it’s liable to sink its teeth into your flesh and rend it from the bone regardless. Some, if not most, of you would probably love that, I’m sure. If so, Misanthropy’s third unleashment is a fine selection for your sick kicks.
Rating: Very Good
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Transcending Obscurity Records
Websites: misanthropychicago.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/MisanthropyChicago
Releases Worldwide: December 13th, 2024#2024 #35 #Alkaloid #AmericanMetal #ArtificialBrain #AtraeBilis #Atvm #Augury #DeathMetal #Dec24 #Incantation #Misanthropy #ProgressiveDeathMetal #ProgressiveMetal #Review #Reviews #TechnicalDeathMetal #TheEverCrushingWeightOfStagnance #TranscendingObscurityRecords #Veilburner
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Misanthropy – The Ever-Crushing Weight of Stagnance Review
By Kenstrosity
Apparently, Chicago progressive tech death quartet Misanthropy used to play thrash metal. Once I learned of this shift, it felt like I could suddenly hear a thrashy thread running through their newest release, The Ever-Crushing Weight of Stagnance. Having no prior experience with Misanthropy’s back catalog, I walked into their third record with an open mind, ready and willing to be probed by the wild and the wacky. Sometimes, unexpected changes make for unexpected pleasures.
You’d be forgiven for mistakenly clocking Misanthropy as boilerplate tech death based solely on outward appearances. You’d nonetheless be incorrect. For the longest time, I struggled to nail down exactly what amalgamation of sounds and styles Misanthropy represented. But then I started writing this piece and it hit me. Imagine a dirtier Augury fed through an Atrae Bilis filter and finished with a proggy Atvm glaze, and you have a roughly accurate blueprint of what to expect from current Misanthropy. Twisting, gnarled compositions, motivated by Paul’s multifaceted kitwork, mesh and morph against guitarists Kevin’s and Jose Valles’ unending cavalcade of mind-shredding riffs. Mark’s burbling bass and vicious vox form both the throbbing underbelly and the piercing voice of the record, propelling The Ever-Crushing Weight of Stagnance through its forty-five-minute tale with gusto and gravity. In totality, The Ever-Crushing Weight of Stagnance represents a fierce and furious affair. Yet, countless stops and swaps between blistering grooves, manic freakouts, mind-melting churns, and ground-shaking stomps leave me mostly rapt throughout.
Highlighting standout moments on The Ever-Crushing Weight of Stagnance proves a challenge, as Misanthropy penned so many killer passages into these seven songs that it’s hard to pick favorites. Even so, massive pit-opening grooves and slithering riffs elevate thrashier songs like “The All-Devouring” to the top of the pile. An eerie, waltzing dalliance with jazz rhythms allows opener “Of Sulking and the Wrathful” to shine in its back half as well, showcasing Misanthropy’s knack for oddball transitions that work deceivingly well in the context of their chosen style. At first I struggled to appreciate “Condemned to a Nameless Tomb” and “Descent” for their unorthodox combination of Veilburner stream-of-consciousness writing and Artificial Brain shimmer, but with time I grew to appreciate their place in the lineup as the next-door-neighbor monstrosities that they are. Unafraid to get down and dirty, “Sepulcher” offers just the right amount of funky Alkaloid intelligence to offset filthy Incantation tones and harmonized riffing, expertly juggling straightforward and slimy with weird and wretched.
Impressive though it is that Misanthropy managed to cover so much stylistic ground without sullying their unique new character, The Ever-Crushing Weight of Stagnance remains a touch disjointed as a whole. Tonally, Misanthropy play fearlessly with rough-hewn textures inside a more clinical environment, but there are moments of mild uncanny valley associated with that experiment, as certain elements of Misanthropy’s flexible sound clash rather than coalesce (“A Cure for the Pestilence”). Misanthropy’s willingness and ability to throw everything but the kitchen sink at their compositions without totally destabilizing everything deserves great respect, but it sometimes comes at the cost of fluidity and cohesion (“Consumed by the Abyss”). This, therefore, makes certain sections of The Ever-Crushing Weight of Stagnance somewhat difficult to listen to casually, as I often lose details or miss quality segments when not listening intently. Additionally, the occasional abrupt switch between unexpected change-ups make already lengthy tracks (most soar past the six minute mark) feel even lengthier.
Thankfully, listening intently is quite literally my job here, and I spend lots of time with my charges. Consequently, I can assure you that The Ever-Crushing Weight of Stagnance represents yet another killer in Transcending Obscurity’s lineup of crazy beasts. It may not be everyone’s favorite creature, but if you aren’t careful, it’s liable to sink its teeth into your flesh and rend it from the bone regardless. Some, if not most, of you would probably love that, I’m sure. If so, Misanthropy’s third unleashment is a fine selection for your sick kicks.
Rating: Very Good
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Transcending Obscurity Records
Websites: misanthropychicago.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/MisanthropyChicago
Releases Worldwide: December 13th, 2024#2024 #35 #Alkaloid #AmericanMetal #ArtificialBrain #AtraeBilis #Atvm #Augury #DeathMetal #Dec24 #Incantation #Misanthropy #ProgressiveDeathMetal #ProgressiveMetal #Review #Reviews #TechnicalDeathMetal #TheEverCrushingWeightOfStagnance #TranscendingObscurityRecords #Veilburner
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For @Kitty's #MittwochMetalMix, a song with 40k-inspired AI clip:
#HateWithin: Let the Galaxy Burn!
https://song.link/xjf588cvbcvsf
@sariash and other fans of #SymphonicMetal may want to check out the orchestral version.
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Stuck in the Filter – October’s Angry Misses
By Kenstrosity
Frens, frenemies, poseurs, all. It’s been one helluva year, hasn’t it? Not only has the year of our Jørn 2023 played host to an unseemly number of metal releases, but an unusual quantity of those releases were good enough to earn their place in these hallowed Filters. Now, the end of the year looms, and we’ve got one more collection of filthy chunks to share.
I would like to thank all of the many contributors who have supplied material for this feature, helping it thrive these last couple of years. And of course, I’d like to extend my thanks to Steel Druhm and AMG Himself for entrusting me to manage this segment, and for further supporting and upgrading this feature so that it might gain an even greater presence for our readers in coming years. Without further ado, and in the spirit of Listurnalia, we welcome you to the final Stuck in the Filter piece of 2023. HUZZAH!
Kenstrosity’s Mildewed Masses
Akouphenom // Death·Chaos·Void [October 13th, 2023 – Avantgarde Music]
Spanish blackened death metal band Akouphenom sprung out of absolute nowhere for spongekind. Encountered during a biweekly listening session I attend with some Discord frens, debut record Death·Chaos·Void represents one twisted, barbed tome of scorched extreme metal. From the onset of opener proper “Devour,” I revel in the dark incantations of infernal horror which takes the form of vile riffs, phlegmy rasps, and rabid blasts. Reminiscent of Belphegor, Ars Magna Umbrae, and Veilburner, Death·Chaos·Void demands my soul as the price for engaging with its devilish charms, charms which allow its long-form constructs to fly by in the blink of an eye. You wouldn’t expect tracks like the twelve-minute “Upper Cycle of Infinite Tails” to shred time into ribbons, but its vicious and memorable songwriting enlivens each and every second such that it feels lithe and agile rather than bloated and clumsy (“Flesh Sublimation,” “Death·Chaos·Void”). An excellent production job further solidifies Death·Chaos·Void’s merit, especially considering this is Akouphenom’s first full length. With no weak songs to be had and very little to criticize, you may wonder why this record doesn’t earn a full Things You Might Have Missed article from yours truly. The answer? Neglect. I simply didn’t listen to this album in full until very recently. Don’t make the same mistake I did. Get in on this before the year’s out!
Eye of Horus // Noxium [October 14th, 2023 – Self Release]
Like it or not, The Black Dahlia Murder’s influence on the metalsphere cannot be denied. Imitators everywhere crib their material and try to grasp the glory that the legendary melodic death metal band secured for themselves over their storied career. While none of the bands strongly inspired by TBDM share the same success, many still put out worthy material. One such band is Eye of Horus, an unheralded Canadian melodic death metal quintet whose sophomore record Noxium represents one of the better slabs of TBDM worship I’ve heard. At a tight thirty-six minutes, Noxium brims with top-of-the-line hooks and compelling songwriting. Opener “Modern Meat Grinder” is proof positive of that end, with its infectious gang shout chorus of “FEED YOUR NEIGHBOR TO THE MEAT GRINDER!!!” Couple that with excellent riffcraft, meaty roars, and acrobatic drumming, and you’ve got yourself a top-notch start to a criminally fun record. To my great joy, many subsequent cuts live up to the initial quality established early on. “Patriarch,” “Hellbound,” “Phantom Sepulchre,” “Gripped by the Grave,” and closer “Beyond the Mortal Veil” all offer plenty of metallic goodness and exciting songwriting to push it above the pack. While they still lack a unique identity, Eye of Horus show ample potential to grow into their own voice down the line. Keep your eye on them!
Crystal Coffin // The Curse of Immortality [October 31st, 2023 – Self Release]
Doom_et_Al should’ve covered this record months ago. He knew it was coming. I am convinced of it. Don’t believe his denials! Thankfully, I am here to pick up the ball. Hailing from Vancouver, Crystal Coffin dropped their third LP The Curse of Immortality back on Halloween. While I agree with Doom‘s assessment of predecessor The Starway Eternal, something about Crystal Coffin’s latest effort feels elevated, refined, and matured. Lushly layered melodies, groovy drumming, and invigorated songwriting characterize The Curse of Immortality in a way we’ve not heard from this group before. Coupled with their already well-established knack for interesting storytelling and novel subject matter, the pieces come together to create an album greater than the sum of its parts. Opener “Shadows Never Cast” offers a great encapsulation of what to expect, replete with ripping tremolos, infectious energy, and fun electronic effects. Black-n-roll bangers like “The Undead,” “The Vortex of Earth and Death,” “Final Breaths,” and “Leviathans Encased” showcase Crystal Coffin’s versatility in fine fashion too. Juggling swaggering riffs with delicate piano, crooning cleans, and whimsical synthwork, these songs evoke an eerie, sci-fi atmosphere that deviates from the popular application of such aesthetics in black metal. In short, if you’re looking for quality black metal of a niche mold, give Crystal Coffin’s The Curse of Immortality a go.
Dolphin Whisperer’s Nonpareil Nuggets
Comaniac // All for None [October 13th, 2023 – Metalworld]
With a name oddly ripped from a classic Artillery song, banger titles like “Desolation Manifest” and “Breakdown Rite,” and an atemporal, battle-ready cover All for None screams with the rustic abandon of rowdy, shreddy thrash. Comaniac hail from the mountainous scape of Switzerland, a land that once hosted the neoclassically inclined, rapid-fire riffage of the legendary Coroner. Following in similar footsteps, ripping trash break after ripping thrash break litters this sweeping outing. And much like their countrymen in Stortregn, or a whimsical, aged act like Forbidden, guitarists Jonas Schmid and Valentin Mössinger—the latter of whom also provides a spacious and sparkling mix/master job—kill the electrics to up the drama with serenading nylon passages (“Eye to Eye,” “Life Long Doll,” “Self Sacrifice”). But this dash of progressive attitude doesn’t get in the way too often, though it can push Schmid’s already unadvisable, rabid bark into an accented croon that’s not particularly polished (“Life Long Doll,” “Self Sacrifice”). The strength of the shred-forward, throat-abusing cuts land powerfully enough make up the difference though (“Desolation Manifest,” “Breakdown Rite,” “Between the Stars”), with plenty of rapid tempo shifts and pull-off runs to dizzy an already spinning crowd. A techy thrash band this exciting hasn’t come around for me in a long time, and if I were a smarter man I’d probably have caught them sooner then this—All for None is their fourth album after all. But I don’t being late to the party when ass-kickin’ thrash is on the menu.
Novere // Nothing Stays Hidden in Daylight [October 1st, 2023 – Trepanation Recordings]
Founded by Dawnwalker guitarist Matteo Bianciotto, Thai-born now UK-based vocalist/bassist Top Tarasin,1, and a couple of other friends from the UK scene, Novere has been stewing their cinematic, heavy-hitting post-metal sound for a few years leading to this stunning full-length debut. Pulling from the hazy domain of alt-legends Tool and the ritualistic roar-to-altar of Amenra, Novere fills a wide scope with delicately recorded clean passages only to tear them away layer by layer with full volume crashes (“Hydra,” “Aphelion”). “Danse Macabre” may land as the most challenging of the bunch for those who crave the harsh release those first two numbers promise, its beautiful and folky expression leaning firmly in a glistening, textural post-rock world, dreamy croons included. But at four tracks, thirty-five minutes, and the haunting, ISIS-imbued speaker-rattling close of “Cromlech,” Nothing Stays Hidden in Daylight escapes the trapping trope of “never-ending whoosh” that the genre of post-metal so often harbors. With lush production handled by none other than postmaster himself Magnus Lindberg (Cult of Luna), each careful listen of delicate string touches, wobbling bass lurches, splashing cymbal arrays, resonates more deeply than the last—truly ear candy. Once you’ve fallen prey to this as many times as I have in my short time with it, you’ll be hoping too for a quick turn around on a follow-up.
Dear Hollow’s Gutter Garbage
The Voynich Code // Insomnia [October 13th, 2023 – Unique Leader Records]
Look, deathcore can be cool again, although I’m not sure if it ever was. Aspiring deathcore shenaniganizers just need to play like Portugal’s The Voynich Code. Sounding like a deft combination of Born of Osiris and Shadow of Intent, with just hints of old Veil of Maya and Lorna Shore, there’s a lot going on with the four-piece’s second full-length. Following the milquetoast Aqua Vitae in 2017, I was resigned that perhaps The Voynich Code had better short-form pieces, as their debut 2015 EP Ignotum offered potential galore while 2021’s Post Mortem offered a punchy batch of solid tunes with tasteful brevity. Offering an absolute mammoth deathcore sound with hints of blackened and djent flavors, they more than make up for their poor stylistic choices with a penchant for shredding and tasteful technicality. “Homecoming,” “A Dying Age,” and “Hell’s Black Heart” offer blades of shredding riffs and wildly technical leads, while the blackened symphonic Dimmu Borgir flavors of “Insomnia” and “A Flicker of Life” offer a gravity of dread that adds an unmistakably horror-based experience. Ultimately, does The Voynich Code do anything earthshaking? No. The vocalist could stand to expand his range, the songs start to bleed together by a certain point, and there is a lot going on. But there’s also shredding technicality, dizzying intensity, full-throttle brutality, and a whole lotta fun to get your head bobbing.
End // The Sin of Human Frailty [October 27th, 2023 – Closed Casket Activities]
Excuse me while I add another soundtrack for my sellout. For the uninitiated, End is a supergroup from New Jersey, featuring heavy hitter veterans from household bands like Counterparts, Fit for an Autopsy, Shai Hulud, and The Acacia Strain. While the tag “metalcore” is present here, you’ll find more Full of Hell or Cult Leader in this caustic concoction rather than any of the August Burns Reds of the world. Brendan Murphy has never sounded so commanding, while the buzzsaw Nails-esque riffs of Will Putney and Gregory Thomas gash with furious intensity, undergirded by the abusive rhythm section of Jay Pepito and Matt Guglielmo. Bordering on powerviolence and grind at sporadic intervals in tracks like “Gaping Wounds of Earth” and “Twice Devoured Kill” (featuring Pig Destroyer’s J.R. Hayes) End features an expertly honed balance between bludgeoning weight and skronky technicality. While “Thaw” is a strangely EDM, industrial, and experimental inclusion (also featuring the croons of Heriot’s Debbie Gough), The Sin of Human Frailty sees End laying it on with a grind intensity, deathcore weight, and hardcore attitude – a punch in the face you’ll come back for again and again.
#2023 #Akouphenom #AllForNone #Amenra #AmericanMetal #ArsMagnaUmbrae #Artillery #AugustBurnsRed #AvantgardeMusic #Belphegor #BlackMetal #BlackNRoll #BlackenedDeathMetal #BornOfOsiris #CanadianMetal #ClosedCasketActivities #Comaniac #Coroner #Counterparts #CrystalCoffin #CultLeader #CultOfLuna #Dawnwalker #DeathMetal #DeathChaosVoid #Deathcore #DimmuBorgir #End #EyeOfHorus #FitForAnAutopsy #Forbidden #FullOfHell #Grind #Hardcore #Insomnia #Isis #LornaShore #MelodicBlackMetal #MelodicDeathMetal #Metalcore #Metalworld #Nails #NothingStaysHiddenInDaylight #Novere #Noxium #Oct23 #PigDestroyer #PortugueseMetal #PostMetal #ProgressiveMetal #Review #Reviews #SelfRelease #SelfReleased #ShadowOfIntent #ShaiHulud #Sludge #Stortregn #StuckInTheFilter #SwissMetal #SymphonicMetal #TechnicalDeathMetal #TheAcaciaStrain #TheBlackDahliaMurder #TheCurseOfImmortality #TheSinOfHumanFrailty #TheVoynichCode #ThrashMetal #Tool #TrepanationRecordings #UKMetal #UniqueLeaderRecords #VeilOfMaya #Veilburner
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Stuck in the Filter – October’s Angry Misses
By Kenstrosity
Frens, frenemies, poseurs, all. It’s been one helluva year, hasn’t it? Not only has the year of our Jørn 2023 played host to an unseemly number of metal releases, but an unusual quantity of those releases were good enough to earn their place in these hallowed Filters. Now, the end of the year looms, and we’ve got one more collection of filthy chunks to share.
I would like to thank all of the many contributors who have supplied material for this feature, helping it thrive these last couple of years. And of course, I’d like to extend my thanks to Steel Druhm and AMG Himself for entrusting me to manage this segment, and for further supporting and upgrading this feature so that it might gain an even greater presence for our readers in coming years. Without further ado, and in the spirit of Listurnalia, we welcome you to the final Stuck in the Filter piece of 2023. HUZZAH!
Kenstrosity’s Mildewed Masses
Akouphenom // Death·Chaos·Void [October 13th, 2023 – Avantgarde Music]
Spanish blackened death metal band Akouphenom sprung out of absolute nowhere for spongekind. Encountered during a biweekly listening session I attend with some Discord frens, debut record Death·Chaos·Void represents one twisted, barbed tome of scorched extreme metal. From the onset of opener proper “Devour,” I revel in the dark incantations of infernal horror which takes the form of vile riffs, phlegmy rasps, and rabid blasts. Reminiscent of Belphegor, Ars Magna Umbrae, and Veilburner, Death·Chaos·Void demands my soul as the price for engaging with its devilish charms, charms which allow its long-form constructs to fly by in the blink of an eye. You wouldn’t expect tracks like the twelve-minute “Upper Cycle of Infinite Tails” to shred time into ribbons, but its vicious and memorable songwriting enlivens each and every second such that it feels lithe and agile rather than bloated and clumsy (“Flesh Sublimation,” “Death·Chaos·Void”). An excellent production job further solidifies Death·Chaos·Void’s merit, especially considering this is Akouphenom’s first full length. With no weak songs to be had and very little to criticize, you may wonder why this record doesn’t earn a full Things You Might Have Missed article from yours truly. The answer? Neglect. I simply didn’t listen to this album in full until very recently. Don’t make the same mistake I did. Get in on this before the year’s out!
Eye of Horus // Noxium [October 14th, 2023 – Self Release]
Like it or not, The Black Dahlia Murder’s influence on the metalsphere cannot be denied. Imitators everywhere crib their material and try to grasp the glory that the legendary melodic death metal band secured for themselves over their storied career. While none of the bands strongly inspired by TBDM share the same success, many still put out worthy material. One such band is Eye of Horus, an unheralded Canadian melodic death metal quintet whose sophomore record Noxium represents one of the better slabs of TBDM worship I’ve heard. At a tight thirty-six minutes, Noxium brims with top-of-the-line hooks and compelling songwriting. Opener “Modern Meat Grinder” is proof positive of that end, with its infectious gang shout chorus of “FEED YOUR NEIGHBOR TO THE MEAT GRINDER!!!” Couple that with excellent riffcraft, meaty roars, and acrobatic drumming, and you’ve got yourself a top-notch start to a criminally fun record. To my great joy, many subsequent cuts live up to the initial quality established early on. “Patriarch,” “Hellbound,” “Phantom Sepulchre,” “Gripped by the Grave,” and closer “Beyond the Mortal Veil” all offer plenty of metallic goodness and exciting songwriting to push it above the pack. While they still lack a unique identity, Eye of Horus show ample potential to grow into their own voice down the line. Keep your eye on them!
Crystal Coffin // The Curse of Immortality [October 31st, 2023 – Self Release]
Doom_et_Al should’ve covered this record months ago. He knew it was coming. I am convinced of it. Don’t believe his denials! Thankfully, I am here to pick up the ball. Hailing from Vancouver, Crystal Coffin dropped their third LP The Curse of Immortality back on Halloween. While I agree with Doom‘s assessment of predecessor The Starway Eternal, something about Crystal Coffin’s latest effort feels elevated, refined, and matured. Lushly layered melodies, groovy drumming, and invigorated songwriting characterize The Curse of Immortality in a way we’ve not heard from this group before. Coupled with their already well-established knack for interesting storytelling and novel subject matter, the pieces come together to create an album greater than the sum of its parts. Opener “Shadows Never Cast” offers a great encapsulation of what to expect, replete with ripping tremolos, infectious energy, and fun electronic effects. Black-n-roll bangers like “The Undead,” “The Vortex of Earth and Death,” “Final Breaths,” and “Leviathans Encased” showcase Crystal Coffin’s versatility in fine fashion too. Juggling swaggering riffs with delicate piano, crooning cleans, and whimsical synthwork, these songs evoke an eerie, sci-fi atmosphere that deviates from the popular application of such aesthetics in black metal. In short, if you’re looking for quality black metal of a niche mold, give Crystal Coffin’s The Curse of Immortality a go.
Dolphin Whisperer’s Nonpareil Nuggets
Comaniac // All for None [October 13th, 2023 – Metalworld]
With a name oddly ripped from a classic Artillery song, banger titles like “Desolation Manifest” and “Breakdown Rite,” and an atemporal, battle-ready cover All for None screams with the rustic abandon of rowdy, shreddy thrash. Comaniac hail from the mountainous scape of Switzerland, a land that once hosted the neoclassically inclined, rapid-fire riffage of the legendary Coroner. Following in similar footsteps, ripping trash break after ripping thrash break litters this sweeping outing. And much like their countrymen in Stortregn, or a whimsical, aged act like Forbidden, guitarists Jonas Schmid and Valentin Mössinger—the latter of whom also provides a spacious and sparkling mix/master job—kill the electrics to up the drama with serenading nylon passages (“Eye to Eye,” “Life Long Doll,” “Self Sacrifice”). But this dash of progressive attitude doesn’t get in the way too often, though it can push Schmid’s already unadvisable, rabid bark into an accented croon that’s not particularly polished (“Life Long Doll,” “Self Sacrifice”). The strength of the shred-forward, throat-abusing cuts land powerfully enough make up the difference though (“Desolation Manifest,” “Breakdown Rite,” “Between the Stars”), with plenty of rapid tempo shifts and pull-off runs to dizzy an already spinning crowd. A techy thrash band this exciting hasn’t come around for me in a long time, and if I were a smarter man I’d probably have caught them sooner then this—All for None is their fourth album after all. But I don’t being late to the party when ass-kickin’ thrash is on the menu.
Novere // Nothing Stays Hidden in Daylight [October 1st, 2023 – Trepanation Recordings]
Founded by Dawnwalker guitarist Matteo Bianciotto, Thai-born now UK-based vocalist/bassist Top Tarasin,1, and a couple of other friends from the UK scene, Novere has been stewing their cinematic, heavy-hitting post-metal sound for a few years leading to this stunning full-length debut. Pulling from the hazy domain of alt-legends Tool and the ritualistic roar-to-altar of Amenra, Novere fills a wide scope with delicately recorded clean passages only to tear them away layer by layer with full volume crashes (“Hydra,” “Aphelion”). “Danse Macabre” may land as the most challenging of the bunch for those who crave the harsh release those first two numbers promise, its beautiful and folky expression leaning firmly in a glistening, textural post-rock world, dreamy croons included. But at four tracks, thirty-five minutes, and the haunting, ISIS-imbued speaker-rattling close of “Cromlech,” Nothing Stays Hidden in Daylight escapes the trapping trope of “never-ending whoosh” that the genre of post-metal so often harbors. With lush production handled by none other than postmaster himself Magnus Lindberg (Cult of Luna), each careful listen of delicate string touches, wobbling bass lurches, splashing cymbal arrays, resonates more deeply than the last—truly ear candy. Once you’ve fallen prey to this as many times as I have in my short time with it, you’ll be hoping too for a quick turn around on a follow-up.
Dear Hollow’s Gutter Garbage
The Voynich Code // Insomnia [October 13th, 2023 – Unique Leader Records]
Look, deathcore can be cool again, although I’m not sure if it ever was. Aspiring deathcore shenaniganizers just need to play like Portugal’s The Voynich Code. Sounding like a deft combination of Born of Osiris and Shadow of Intent, with just hints of old Veil of Maya and Lorna Shore, there’s a lot going on with the four-piece’s second full-length. Following the milquetoast Aqua Vitae in 2017, I was resigned that perhaps The Voynich Code had better short-form pieces, as their debut 2015 EP Ignotum offered potential galore while 2021’s Post Mortem offered a punchy batch of solid tunes with tasteful brevity. Offering an absolute mammoth deathcore sound with hints of blackened and djent flavors, they more than make up for their poor stylistic choices with a penchant for shredding and tasteful technicality. “Homecoming,” “A Dying Age,” and “Hell’s Black Heart” offer blades of shredding riffs and wildly technical leads, while the blackened symphonic Dimmu Borgir flavors of “Insomnia” and “A Flicker of Life” offer a gravity of dread that adds an unmistakably horror-based experience. Ultimately, does The Voynich Code do anything earthshaking? No. The vocalist could stand to expand his range, the songs start to bleed together by a certain point, and there is a lot going on. But there’s also shredding technicality, dizzying intensity, full-throttle brutality, and a whole lotta fun to get your head bobbing.
End // The Sin of Human Frailty [October 27th, 2023 – Closed Casket Activities]
Excuse me while I add another soundtrack for my sellout. For the uninitiated, End is a supergroup from New Jersey, featuring heavy hitter veterans from household bands like Counterparts, Fit for an Autopsy, Shai Hulud, and The Acacia Strain. While the tag “metalcore” is present here, you’ll find more Full of Hell or Cult Leader in this caustic concoction rather than any of the August Burns Reds of the world. Brendan Murphy has never sounded so commanding, while the buzzsaw Nails-esque riffs of Will Putney and Gregory Thomas gash with furious intensity, undergirded by the abusive rhythm section of Jay Pepito and Matt Guglielmo. Bordering on powerviolence and grind at sporadic intervals in tracks like “Gaping Wounds of Earth” and “Twice Devoured Kill” (featuring Pig Destroyer’s J.R. Hayes) End features an expertly honed balance between bludgeoning weight and skronky technicality. While “Thaw” is a strangely EDM, industrial, and experimental inclusion (also featuring the croons of Heriot’s Debbie Gough), The Sin of Human Frailty sees End laying it on with a grind intensity, deathcore weight, and hardcore attitude – a punch in the face you’ll come back for again and again.
#2023 #Akouphenom #AllForNone #Amenra #AmericanMetal #ArsMagnaUmbrae #Artillery #AugustBurnsRed #AvantgardeMusic #Belphegor #BlackMetal #BlackNRoll #BlackenedDeathMetal #BornOfOsiris #CanadianMetal #ClosedCasketActivities #Comaniac #Coroner #Counterparts #CrystalCoffin #CultLeader #CultOfLuna #Dawnwalker #DeathMetal #DeathChaosVoid #Deathcore #DimmuBorgir #End #EyeOfHorus #FitForAnAutopsy #Forbidden #FullOfHell #Grind #Hardcore #Insomnia #Isis #LornaShore #MelodicBlackMetal #MelodicDeathMetal #Metalcore #Metalworld #Nails #NothingStaysHiddenInDaylight #Novere #Noxium #Oct23 #PigDestroyer #PortugueseMetal #PostMetal #ProgressiveMetal #Review #Reviews #SelfRelease #SelfReleased #ShadowOfIntent #ShaiHulud #Sludge #Stortregn #StuckInTheFilter #SwissMetal #SymphonicMetal #TechnicalDeathMetal #TheAcaciaStrain #TheBlackDahliaMurder #TheCurseOfImmortality #TheSinOfHumanFrailty #TheVoynichCode #ThrashMetal #Tool #TrepanationRecordings #UKMetal #UniqueLeaderRecords #VeilOfMaya #Veilburner