#white-ward — Public Fediverse posts

#aufwachohrwurm #whiteward

Can’t help but this is still so great

https://musiccloud.io/5tHJc

#blackmetal #AvantgardeBlackMetal #postblackmetal

Born of the ashes of former project Messenger, UK post-rock duo Liminal Sky, comprised of Jaime Gomez Arellano and Daniel Knight—and featuring Mat McNerney (Hexvessel, ex-Beastmilk), Kristoffer Rygg (Ulver), Anders Møller, Karin Park (Årabrot), Daniel O’Sullivan, Lars Horntveth, Alicia Nurho, Tore Ylwizaker, Ole Alexander Halstensgård, and Matt Rozeik—represents the next chapter in Arellano’s and Knight’s creative vision. Occupying a desolate space in the post realm that I haven’t covered in an official capacity since Latitudes dropped Part Island, upcoming debut All Tomorrow’s Darkness struck me in much the same way. Beautiful, inconsolable, tender, and graceful, Liminal Sky tugged at my heartstrings and called to my spirit.

An emotional and loving affair, All Tomorrow’s Darkness owes its gravity and poignancy to primary vocalist and lyricist Mat McNerney, impassioned by the recent loss of his mother. While it’s very clearly heard in McNerney’s vocal delivery across the record, Liminal Sky’s songwriting too reflects that heartbreak with crystalline clarity. Especially in their longer form compositions (“In Some Secret Universe,” “Algebra of Unknowing,” “All Tomorrow’s Darkness”), sweeping arcs and delicate plucked melodies inform the shape of mourning, of catharsis, of release, and of loss that All Tomorrow’s Darkness embodies. Its more energetic cuts (“A Solitary Future,” “Forget Me Not”) don’t disturb that shape, but rather recontextualize it as if to emphasize the unpredictable nature of grieving. As a whole, All Tomorrow’s Darkness represents a highly intelligent, deeply thoughtful, and highly resonant experience that offers its heart to those who would hear it, in the hopes that they would hold it with warmth and understanding.

Nowhere is this intimacy more effectively conjured than in centerpiece “Penance,” featuring Karin Park’s soothing croon. It is a stunning work, reminiscent of White Ward and Latitudes at their softest, but especially sorrowful, almost regretful. There’s a pain to this song which echoes some of the hardest processes that come with mourning the loss of a loved one, and it brings greater substance to its more energetic companion piece, “The Weight of Heaven.” In some strange alchemy, hookiness and subtle bounce fit “The Weight of Heaven” like a glove, almost as if the upshot of weathering the storm is clarity, acceptance, even hope. And yet, existential uncertainty and an ominous foreshadowing persist as undercurrent through songs like “Algebra of Unknowing” and “Oar on the Mooring” to remind the listener that clarity, that acceptance, and that hope is fragile. To further personify this message, All Tomorrow’s Darkness glides gently through all of these movements with a floatiness that belies its forlorn, heavy heart.

As a result of such fluidity, my perception of All Tomorrow’s Darkness’ hour-long expanse warps and shrinks. This, in turn, makes what should be a difficult, emotionally taxing experience remarkably easy to revisit. Its accessibility granted by direct, uncomplicated songwriting also affords a certain approachability that helps open up a listener not only to receive something so deeply steeped in pain and anguish, but also to respond in sympathetic release. That same simple songwriting, while effective and inviting, also results in some lightly recycled instrumental ideas. Across All Tomorrow’s Darkness, melodies, rhythms, and pacing occasionally reach a level of homogeneity and eerie familiarity such that every now and again I lose my place. I imagine that this might be on purpose, perhaps to reinforce an impression of liminal space and limbo that often manifests in the grieving process. If so, I’m not certain that Liminal Sky’s songwriting scaffolded that concept—outside of standout examples in “In Some Secret Universe” and “Algebra of Unknowing”—well enough to have the desired effect. Instead, and especially after multiple spins, it negatively impacts recall and weakens the album’s memorability.

Liminal Sky rekindled something inside me that I had forgotten after years apart from this little corner of the post world. In spite of its slow and soft approach, All Tomorrow’s Darkness strikes the spirit with accuracy and emotional heft. What few minor songwriting weaknesses it displays on occasion constitute an easily overcome obstacle to my appreciation of the experience. If anything, those very flaws help showcase how well-conceived and thoughtfully executed Liminal Sky’s debut is everywhere else. Imperfect, but easy to listen to and devastating to hear, All Tomorrow’s Darkness bears the soul of its creators with a candid vulnerability worth taking to heart.

Rating: Very Good!
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Karisma Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: June 19th, 2026

Born of the ashes of former project Messenger, UK post-rock duo Liminal Sky, comprised of Jaime Gomez Arellano and Daniel Knight—and featuring Mat McNerney (Hexvessel, ex-Beastmilk), Kristoffer Rygg (Ulver), Anders Møller, Karin Park (Årabrot), Daniel O’Sullivan, Lars Horntveth, Alicia Nurho, Tore Ylwizaker, Ole Alexander Halstensgård, and Matt Rozeik—represents the next chapter in Arellano’s and Knight’s creative vision. Occupying a desolate space in the post realm that I haven’t covered in an official capacity since Latitudes dropped Part Island, upcoming debut All Tomorrow’s Darkness struck me in much the same way. Beautiful, inconsolable, tender, and graceful, Liminal Sky tugged at my heartstrings and called to my spirit.

An emotional and loving affair, All Tomorrow’s Darkness owes its gravity and poignancy to primary vocalist and lyricist Mat McNerney, impassioned by the recent loss of his mother. While it’s very clearly heard in McNerney’s vocal delivery across the record, Liminal Sky’s songwriting too reflects that heartbreak with crystalline clarity. Especially in their longer form compositions (“In Some Secret Universe,” “Algebra of Unknowing,” “All Tomorrow’s Darkness”), sweeping arcs and delicate plucked melodies inform the shape of mourning, of catharsis, of release, and of loss that All Tomorrow’s Darkness embodies. Its more energetic cuts (“A Solitary Future,” “Forget Me Not”) don’t disturb that shape, but rather recontextualize it as if to emphasize the unpredictable nature of grieving. As a whole, All Tomorrow’s Darkness represents a highly intelligent, deeply thoughtful, and highly resonant experience that offers its heart to those who would hear it, in the hopes that they would hold it with warmth and understanding.

Nowhere is this intimacy more effectively conjured than in centerpiece “Penance,” featuring Karin Park’s soothing croon. It is a stunning work, reminiscent of White Ward and Latitudes at their softest, but especially sorrowful, almost regretful. There’s a pain to this song which echoes some of the hardest processes that come with mourning the loss of a loved one, and it brings greater substance to its more energetic companion piece, “The Weight of Heaven.” In some strange alchemy, hookiness and subtle bounce fit “The Weight of Heaven” like a glove, almost as if the upshot of weathering the storm is clarity, acceptance, even hope. And yet, existential uncertainty and an ominous foreshadowing persist as undercurrent through songs like “Algebra of Unknowing” and “Oar on the Mooring” to remind the listener that clarity, that acceptance, and that hope is fragile. To further personify this message, All Tomorrow’s Darkness glides gently through all of these movements with a floatiness that belies its forlorn, heavy heart.

As a result of such fluidity, my perception of All Tomorrow’s Darkness’ hour-long expanse warps and shrinks. This, in turn, makes what should be a difficult, emotionally taxing experience remarkably easy to revisit. Its accessibility granted by direct, uncomplicated songwriting also affords a certain approachability that helps open up a listener not only to receive something so deeply steeped in pain and anguish, but also to respond in sympathetic release. That same simple songwriting, while effective and inviting, also results in some lightly recycled instrumental ideas. Across All Tomorrow’s Darkness, melodies, rhythms, and pacing occasionally reach a level of homogeneity and eerie familiarity such that every now and again I lose my place. I imagine that this might be on purpose, perhaps to reinforce an impression of liminal space and limbo that often manifests in the grieving process. If so, I’m not certain that Liminal Sky’s songwriting scaffolded that concept—outside of standout examples in “In Some Secret Universe” and “Algebra of Unknowing”—well enough to have the desired effect. Instead, and especially after multiple spins, it negatively impacts recall and weakens the album’s memorability.

Liminal Sky rekindled something inside me that I had forgotten after years apart from this little corner of the post world. In spite of its slow and soft approach, All Tomorrow’s Darkness strikes the spirit with accuracy and emotional heft. What few minor songwriting weaknesses it displays on occasion constitute an easily overcome obstacle to my appreciation of the experience. If anything, those very flaws help showcase how well-conceived and thoughtfully executed Liminal Sky’s debut is everywhere else. Imperfect, but easy to listen to and devastating to hear, All Tomorrow’s Darkness bears the soul of its creators with a candid vulnerability worth taking to heart.

Rating: Very Good!
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Karisma Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: June 19th, 2026

One of the paradoxes of living in a large city is the tendency of its inhabitants to feel isolated despite being surrounded by millions of people. Something of a “water, water, everywhere but not a drop to drink” phenomenon. It seems—at least to me—that this theme frequently surfaces within the post-black metal subgenre. Callous Faulter was founded by J. Angus in Melbourne, Australia, in order to give sonic form to urban loneliness. Their mission statement is succinct and straightforward: “Modern life is hell and Callous Faulter provide the soundtrack.” And considering that this is a debut record, Callous Faulter is quite a potent soundtrack indeed.

If the weather where you live has become uncomfortably hot and sunny, Callous Faulter is more than willing to conjure dour moods and dismal days. This flavor of downcast post-black bears a passing resemblance to that of White Ward, but whereas White Ward tempers their bleak outlook with pensive, jazzy sections, Callous Faulter presents an unflinching and unrelenting emotional assault.1 Another way to contextualize Callous Faulter would be to hollow out Cave Sermon’s2 melodic textures and fill them in with Aversio Humanitatis’s dissonance and Altar of Plagues’s sinister, oppressive atmosphere. The structure of Callous Faulter comprises only two tracks (“The Isolationist” and “Ocean Views”), which are between 16 and 18 minutes each for a total runtime of 35 minutes.

Callous Faulter employs an extraordinary array of tools to kindle unease in the listener. Sometimes torpid, discordant guitar notes meld with slow, syncopated drum rhythms. Other times the guitars buzz and drone like an angry swarm of wasps, or clanging chords twist together with tremolos to form a grotesque melodic bouquet. All the while, blast beats intermittently pound away like a jackhammer to the nervous system. Speaking of drums, R. Stone’s performance is incredible. The contrast between the intensely complex rhythms and the minimal post-metal guitars and howled vocals does much to keep the compositions from fading into background noise. It’s particularly powerful when the drumming steadily ramps up in intensity towards the end of “The Isolationist” amidst a few stray screams like the last gasps of a drowning person before the song cuts off with a decisive snare hit.

However, Callous Faulter doesn’t always make the most of its lean runtime, particularly during the second track. “Ocean Views” begins promisingly with an energetic intro reminiscent of Dawn of Ouroboros, but towards the midpoint, it slips into a languid and repetitive loop that lasts far too long. In contrast, Callous Faulter utilizes repetition better in “The Isolationist” by breaking the ruminative reprieve before tedium can set in. Things do eventually liven up again in the final few minutes of “Ocean Views,” but not in a way that makes the listless stretch make sense in retrospect. Even so, this could be an instance of a record that might have been stronger if longer, since having so few minutes means that each one matters that much more to make an impression.

As bleak as Callous Faulter is, I can’t deny that it holds a kind of enigmatic allure, its desolate setting calling me back again and again. The first track “The Isolationist,” is a great proof of concept, while “Ocean Views” doesn’t quite hit the mark. As a whole, it doesn’t feel like Callous Faulter has enough time to thoroughly articulate what it wants to say, though there are certainly worse criticisms than wishing for more of it. There is plenty of potential here, and I will be keenly interested to hear Callous Faulter further expound upon this established style in the future. In the meantime, know that if you ever feel bereft of companionship where you live, you can at least count on this collective of misfits within the online community at Angry Metal Guy for support.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 192 kbps mp3
Label: Gutter Prince Cabal
Websites: callousfaulter.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/people/Callous-Faulter
Releases Worldwide: June 1st, 2026

One of the paradoxes of living in a large city is the tendency of its inhabitants to feel isolated despite being surrounded by millions of people. Something of a “water, water, everywhere but not a drop to drink” phenomenon. It seems—at least to me—that this theme frequently surfaces within the post-black metal subgenre. Callous Faulter was founded by J. Angus in Melbourne, Australia, in order to give sonic form to urban loneliness. Their mission statement is succinct and straightforward: “Modern life is hell and Callous Faulter provide the soundtrack.” And considering that this is a debut record, Callous Faulter is quite a potent soundtrack indeed.

If the weather where you live has become uncomfortably hot and sunny, Callous Faulter is more than willing to conjure dour moods and dismal days. This flavor of downcast post-black bears a passing resemblance to that of White Ward, but whereas White Ward tempers their bleak outlook with pensive, jazzy sections, Callous Faulter presents an unflinching and unrelenting emotional assault.1 Another way to contextualize Callous Faulter would be to hollow out Cave Sermon’s2 melodic textures and fill them in with Aversio Humanitatis’s dissonance and Altar of Plagues’s sinister, oppressive atmosphere. The structure of Callous Faulter comprises only two tracks (“The Isolationist” and “Ocean Views”), which are between 16 and 18 minutes each for a total runtime of 35 minutes.

Callous Faulter employs an extraordinary array of tools to kindle unease in the listener. Sometimes torpid, discordant guitar notes meld with slow, syncopated drum rhythms. Other times the guitars buzz and drone like an angry swarm of wasps, or clanging chords twist together with tremolos to form a grotesque melodic bouquet. All the while, blast beats intermittently pound away like a jackhammer to the nervous system. Speaking of drums, R. Stone’s performance is incredible. The contrast between the intensely complex rhythms and the minimal post-metal guitars and howled vocals does much to keep the compositions from fading into background noise. It’s particularly powerful when the drumming steadily ramps up in intensity towards the end of “The Isolationist” amidst a few stray screams like the last gasps of a drowning person before the song cuts off with a decisive snare hit.

However, Callous Faulter doesn’t always make the most of its lean runtime, particularly during the second track. “Ocean Views” begins promisingly with an energetic intro reminiscent of Dawn of Ouroboros, but towards the midpoint, it slips into a languid and repetitive loop that lasts far too long. In contrast, Callous Faulter utilizes repetition better in “The Isolationist” by breaking the ruminative reprieve before tedium can set in. Things do eventually liven up again in the final few minutes of “Ocean Views,” but not in a way that makes the listless stretch make sense in retrospect. Even so, this could be an instance of a record that might have been stronger if longer, since having so few minutes means that each one matters that much more to make an impression.

As bleak as Callous Faulter is, I can’t deny that it holds a kind of enigmatic allure, its desolate setting calling me back again and again. The first track “The Isolationist,” is a great proof of concept, while “Ocean Views” doesn’t quite hit the mark. As a whole, it doesn’t feel like Callous Faulter has enough time to thoroughly articulate what it wants to say, though there are certainly worse criticisms than wishing for more of it. There is plenty of potential here, and I will be keenly interested to hear Callous Faulter further expound upon this established style in the future. In the meantime, know that if you ever feel bereft of companionship where you live, you can at least count on this collective of misfits within the online community at Angry Metal Guy for support.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 192 kbps mp3
Label: Gutter Prince Cabal
Websites: callousfaulter.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/people/Callous-Faulter
Releases Worldwide: June 1st, 2026

#NowPlaying #WhiteWard
Perfect for the finish line of the workday. Let's go!
https://album.link/wkrxqhh02cqbc

#blackmetal #postblackmetal #avantgardemetal #darkjazz #atmosphericblackmetal

For #ThursDeath:

#RiversAblaze: Inexternal Dread

https://album.link/i/1874089287

#BlackenedDeathMetal #ProgressiveDeathMetal

FFO #Bedsore #Phendrana #WhiteWard

For #ThursDeath:

#RiversAblaze: Inexternal Dread

https://album.link/i/1874089287

#BlackenedDeathMetal #ProgressiveDeathMetal

FFO #Bedsore #Phendrana #WhiteWard

#NowPlaying:

MØL: DREAMCRUSH

https://album.link/t/490065965

#Blackgaze #BlackMetal #PostBlackMetal

FFO #Deahheaven #HarakiriForTheSky #WhiteWard

#NowPlaying:

MØL: DREAMCRUSH

https://album.link/t/490065965

#Blackgaze #BlackMetal #PostBlackMetal

FFO #Deahheaven #HarakiriForTheSky #WhiteWard

#NowPlayin #WhiteWard
#StillBornKnowledge
#Ukraine

#PostBlackMetal
#Jazz

#NowPlayin #WhiteWard
#StillBornKnowledge
#Ukraine

#PostBlackMetal
#Jazz

As 2025 winds to a close, the depleted promo pit growls with hunger, eager for the new year and a fresh bucket o’ chum.1 As I sift through the meager mid-December hopefuls, I detect a flash of black and silver. Snatching the promo, I discover clarinet-wielding Vittorio Sabelli and his project Dawn of a Dark Age, along with ninth album Ver Sacrum. Released between 2014 and 2017, the band’s first five albums examined The Six Elements. Ver Sacrum is the conclusion of a tetralogy that explores the Samnites, a Roman-conquered civilization with roots in modern-day central Italy.2 Dear Hollow found the first part of the tetralogy wondrous at its best, but undercut by a tedious, ill-conceived back half. Even so, I couldn’t resist the allure of clarinet metal. After nine albums and a bit of baggage, can Sabelli & Co. bring a warm light to dreary days, or are we left in the dark of a false dawn?

At its core, Dawn of a Dark Age plays avant-garde black metal with folksy instrumentation, and on Ver Sacrum they set aside the scathing hostility found on earlier works to hone mood and atmosphere. Though the speed varies throughout the album, proceedings mostly stick to mid-paced tempos. Sound-wise, Dawn of a Dark Age sits at a crossroads of influences, eliciting the tribal spirit of Wardruna, the wistful temperament of Primordial, and the post-black pangs of White Ward.3 While these comparisons help orient expectations, Dawn of a Dark Age’s milieu is uniquely their own, and despite some imperfections, the band clearly demonstrates lessons learned.

Ver Sacrum by DAWN OF A DARK AGE

In addition to supplying much of the instrumentation throughout Ver Sacrum, Sabelli surrounds himself with a strong cast. Drummer Diego ‘Aeternus’ Tasciotti returns, skillfully supporting Dawn of a Dark Age with subdued cymbals and calculated double-bass rolls. In fact, Aeternus’ subtle kitwork deftly boosts the drama as slower passages accelerate and guitars and bass frolic with clarinets and keys. I particularly enjoy the accordion’s role, conjuring vivid Arcadian imagery as its lilting wheeze plays counter to delicate bass grooves and acoustic strums. Most distinctive, though, are the clarinet and bass clarinet. Outside Van Halen’s “Big Bad Bill (Is Sweet William Now),” I don’t recall any clarinet-centric passages in metal, and Ver Sacrum gives the ol’ licorice stick headlining prominence. Mixing clarinets with metal isn’t a combination I’d ever considered, but on Ver Sacrum, Dawn of a Dark Age convinces me there’s plenty of room for its warm, sulky timbre. Atop the music, new vocalist Ignazio Cuga saunters in with a deep, resonant style that ably treads ground covering croaks, growls, and throat singing.4 All told, Ver Sacrum creates an evocative atmosphere that mostly enchants with its rustic drones and occasional black metal bursts.

While Dawn of a Dark Age sharply demonstrates invigorated songwriting and improvements on the pitfalls from prior outings, Ver Sacrum still encounters a few snags. The 40-minute album length is just right, but the tendency to linger on passages remains, drawing beguiling moments past their prime. And though the awkward transitions found on La Tovola Osca have been largely addressed, a few are present here. Aside from these, performances sizzle, the production suits the music, and the assorted instruments and pacing concoct an engaging, well-manicured experience. The only thing holding back Ver Sacrum from higher praise is the lack of standout moments. I sink into the music every time I spin it, yet once it’s over, I’m left with impressions of the overall sound, absent specific refrains to call me back. Multiple listens reinforce Dawn of a Dark Age’s understated grace, but transitioning away from passages earlier would help build bigger climaxes and elevate Ver Sacrum’s immediacy.

Over eleven years and nine albums, Dawn of a Dark Age has whetted an uncanny aptitude for creating diverse textures and ambiances. Despite my gripes, Ver Sacrum hits more often than misses, and stands as a solid release in a month where good new music is in short supply. Further, this is a must-listen for anyone who wants to like black metal but generally finds it inaccessible. Dawn of a Dark Age takes harsher components of the genre and softens the edges, creating a concise yet engrossing experience for anyone looking to dip their toes into befolkened black waters.

Rating: Good!
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: My Kingdom Music
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: December 12th, 2025

As 2025 winds to a close, the depleted promo pit growls with hunger, eager for the new year and a fresh bucket o’ chum.1 As I sift through the meager mid-December hopefuls, I detect a flash of black and silver. Snatching the promo, I discover clarinet-wielding Vittorio Sabelli and his project Dawn of a Dark Age, along with ninth album Ver Sacrum. Released between 2014 and 2017, the band’s first five albums examined The Six Elements. Ver Sacrum is the conclusion of a tetralogy that explores the Samnites, a Roman-conquered civilization with roots in modern-day central Italy.2 Dear Hollow found the first part of the tetralogy wondrous at its best, but undercut by a tedious, ill-conceived back half. Even so, I couldn’t resist the allure of clarinet metal. After nine albums and a bit of baggage, can Sabelli & Co. bring a warm light to dreary days, or are we left in the dark of a false dawn?

At its core, Dawn of a Dark Age plays avant-garde black metal with folksy instrumentation, and on Ver Sacrum they set aside the scathing hostility found on earlier works to hone mood and atmosphere. Though the speed varies throughout the album, proceedings mostly stick to mid-paced tempos. Sound-wise, Dawn of a Dark Age sits at a crossroads of influences, eliciting the tribal spirit of Wardruna, the wistful temperament of Primordial, and the post-black pangs of White Ward.3 While these comparisons help orient expectations, Dawn of a Dark Age’s milieu is uniquely their own, and despite some imperfections, the band clearly demonstrates lessons learned.

Ver Sacrum by DAWN OF A DARK AGE

In addition to supplying much of the instrumentation throughout Ver Sacrum, Sabelli surrounds himself with a strong cast. Drummer Diego ‘Aeternus’ Tasciotti returns, skillfully supporting Dawn of a Dark Age with subdued cymbals and calculated double-bass rolls. In fact, Aeternus’ subtle kitwork deftly boosts the drama as slower passages accelerate and guitars and bass frolic with clarinets and keys. I particularly enjoy the accordion’s role, conjuring vivid Arcadian imagery as its lilting wheeze plays counter to delicate bass grooves and acoustic strums. Most distinctive, though, are the clarinet and bass clarinet. Outside Van Halen’s “Big Bad Bill (Is Sweet William Now),” I don’t recall any clarinet-centric passages in metal, and Ver Sacrum gives the ol’ licorice stick headlining prominence. Mixing clarinets with metal isn’t a combination I’d ever considered, but on Ver Sacrum, Dawn of a Dark Age convinces me there’s plenty of room for its warm, sulky timbre. Atop the music, new vocalist Ignazio Cuga saunters in with a deep, resonant style that ably treads ground covering croaks, growls, and throat singing.4 All told, Ver Sacrum creates an evocative atmosphere that mostly enchants with its rustic drones and occasional black metal bursts.

While Dawn of a Dark Age sharply demonstrates invigorated songwriting and improvements on the pitfalls from prior outings, Ver Sacrum still encounters a few snags. The 40-minute album length is just right, but the tendency to linger on passages remains, drawing beguiling moments past their prime. And though the awkward transitions found on La Tovola Osca have been largely addressed, a few are present here. Aside from these, performances sizzle, the production suits the music, and the assorted instruments and pacing concoct an engaging, well-manicured experience. The only thing holding back Ver Sacrum from higher praise is the lack of standout moments. I sink into the music every time I spin it, yet once it’s over, I’m left with impressions of the overall sound, absent specific refrains to call me back. Multiple listens reinforce Dawn of a Dark Age’s understated grace, but transitioning away from passages earlier would help build bigger climaxes and elevate Ver Sacrum’s immediacy.

Over eleven years and nine albums, Dawn of a Dark Age has whetted an uncanny aptitude for creating diverse textures and ambiances. Despite my gripes, Ver Sacrum hits more often than misses, and stands as a solid release in a month where good new music is in short supply. Further, this is a must-listen for anyone who wants to like black metal but generally finds it inaccessible. Dawn of a Dark Age takes harsher components of the genre and softens the edges, creating a concise yet engrossing experience for anyone looking to dip their toes into befolkened black waters.

Rating: Good!
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: My Kingdom Music
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: December 12th, 2025

#NowPlaying

For the finish line of the first workday after 3,5 weeks off. Some #blackmetal from the #Ukraine

https://song.link/i/1609693486

#WhiteWard #postblackmetal #AvantgardeBlackMetal

#NowPlaying

For the finish line of the first workday after 3,5 weeks off. Some #blackmetal from the #Ukraine

https://song.link/i/1609693486

#WhiteWard #postblackmetal #AvantgardeBlackMetal

For @loewe's #MusicWomenWednesday:

#DawnOfOuroboros: Cephalopodic Void

https://song.link/9fwsn0w58k0m4

#AtmosphericBlackDeathMelodicPostProgressiveMetal #Wut #Idioth

FFO #AnAbstractIllusion #Felled #WhiteWard

Ever thought of learning Georgian?
For #BlackMetalMonday by @HailsandAles:

#Psychonaut4: Vai Me

https://song.link/q8s2wwtwj4k6q

#DepressivePostBlackMetal #DSBM

FFO #Apati #MyUselessLife #WhiteWard

For @lpl's #SaturDoom:

#Funeral: Yestertear

https://song.link/psrstzgms9jhq

#FuneralDoomMetal #YouWouldNeverHaveGuesedIt

FFO #EtMoriemur #SpectralVoice #WhiteWard

Also for #BlackMetalMonday by @HailsandAles:

#ModernRites: Endless

https://song.link/fb5gxksxqjcmr

#MelodicBlackMetal

FFO #Akhlys #PlebeianGrandstand #WhiteWard

#nowPlaying

White Ward - Love Exchange Failure

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DQ7Od-9l6Aw

Experimental-/Post Black Metal from Odessa, Ukraine

#WhiteWard #LoveExchangeFailure #BlackMetal #PostBlackMetal #ExperimentalBlackMetal #DebemurMortiProductions

#nowPlaying

White Ward - Love Exchange Failure

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DQ7Od-9l6Aw

Experimental-/Post Black Metal from Odessa, Ukraine

#WhiteWard #LoveExchangeFailure #BlackMetal #PostBlackMetal #ExperimentalBlackMetal #DebemurMortiProductions

🔊 #NowPlaying on #KEXP's #SeekAndDestroy

White Ward:
🎵 Dead Heart Confession

#WhiteWard

https://open.spotify.com/track/5VWwx107v3GKYxiJyLqHtr

https://whiteward.bandcamp.com/track/dead-heart-confession

🔊 #NowPlaying on #KEXP's #SeekAndDestroy

White Ward:
🎵 Dead Heart Confession

#WhiteWard

https://open.spotify.com/track/5VWwx107v3GKYxiJyLqHtr

https://whiteward.bandcamp.com/track/dead-heart-confession

Since it's #MetalMonday I figured I'd share a band that was recently shared with me. White Ward is another Ukrainian metal band that make music with wild influences from other genres, in their case primarily jazz. I don't know if they and Jinjer has influenced each other in some way, or if this is just what the Ukrainian metal scene is like. Either way, I like it, a lot.

White Ward - Phoenix

https://songwhip.com/white-ward/phoenix

#WhiteWard #Phoenix #Ukraine #Metal

Since it's #MetalMonday I figured I'd share a band that was recently shared with me. White Ward is another Ukrainian metal band that make music with wild influences from other genres, in their case primarily jazz. I don't know if they and Jinjer has influenced each other in some way, or if this is just what the Ukrainian metal scene is like. Either way, I like it, a lot.

White Ward - Phoenix

https://songwhip.com/white-ward/phoenix

#WhiteWard #Phoenix #Ukraine #Metal

🔊 #NowPlaying on #KEXP's #SeekAndDestroy

White Ward:
🎵 False Light

#WhiteWard

https://open.spotify.com/track/0LQjzFyz9ONT87pIemRWMX