#whitechapel — Public Fediverse posts

Sometimes an album comes around ye olde promo pit that looks and smells familiar, but plays like something else entirely. Today’s entry into the “what the heck am I actually listening to?” hall of infamy is Phasma’s Purgatory. The third record from the Greek/US duo, and the first carried by a label—our beloved Transcending Obscurity Records—Purgatory continually subverted every expectation I had. In doing so, it became one of my biggest pleasant surprises in recent memory.

While early Phasma works boasted a songwriting style and sound that evoked a grotesque Whitechapel/Vampire Squid lovechild, Purgatory is a charred and venomous affair of only a tenuous relation to that concoction, and all the better for it. Conjuring a vision where Vimur, Harms Way, and Crypts of Despair’s first two albums merged into one mangled mass, Purgatory writhes and slithers through an unholy collection of brutal riffs, immolating tremolo flares, and swaggering grooves. While Phasma’s vocal approach largely carries over from early works, pairing a guttural roar with piercing screeches, but minimizing previously prevalent items like subterranean gurgles and glass-shattering squeals, it takes on an altogether more intimidating character here. Instead of showing off the full range of technical skills and range as this unit had to prove on their self-titled debut, Phasma took Purgatory as an opportunity to be as mean and concise as possible.

Purgatory by PHASMA

Simplifying their song structures, doubling down on memorable hooks, and restricting technical expositions to a minimum helped Phasma achieve their goal, resulting in a work that feels genuinely terrifying. Opening duo “I” and early highlight “II” prove this within thirty seconds of their introduction, but also create a delightful deviation from the usual songwriting tricks I expect from one phrase to another. For example, “I” makes me think a huge breakdown is about to drop right at the start, only to blast into the shadowed iciness of black metal, then dive seamlessly into a gym-ready hardcore groove. Subverting my expectations becomes a regular occurrence in Purgatory. “II,” “III,” and “VI” all venture deeper into doom-laden dungeons than I would’ve ever anticipated from a record as evil and high-energy as this. Harmonized melodies and layered guitar pyrotechnics only enhance this effect when things transition between paces and moods in a snap (“II”). By thusly offsetting their stripped-down writing with constant fiery twists and gnarly turns, Phasma crafted a remarkably exciting and rich experience that is an absolute joy to experience over and over again.

Despite its truncated 27-minute runtime, Purgatory burgeons with invigorating ideas all meticulously arranged, but initial spins suffer at the hands of a production of unforgiving loudness. “IV” in particular challenged my ability to appreciate the fantastic lead-into-chug-triplets and Vampire Squid riffs that bulge out from densely packed bass rumbles and glassy cymbals, in no small part because everything is so in-your-face as to flatten entirely. “V” feels a similar impact, though an eerie, bass-driven atmospheric break and subsequent Atrae Bilis-esque bridge briefly alleviates that effect. Understanding that the intended purpose of Purgatory is to oppress and destroy, a little more headroom in the mix and master would’ve allowed Phasma to hit harder and better highlight the myriad clever details distributed throughout.

Thankfully, the production isn’t so ruinous as to make my experience with Purgatory anything less than a delightful treat. As I spent more time with it, I loved it more, craved it regularly, and found additional moments to take home. Memorable beyond what I anticipated, and more engaging than I dared hope, Purgatory is a resounding success in all areas other than engineering. In some circles, that one weakness won’t matter much. In the end, it didn’t matter much to me either, such is the strength of Phasma’s songwriting.1 This is one trip to limbo you won’t want to miss!



Rating: Great!
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Transcending Obscurity Records
Websites: phasmaproject.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/PhasmaProject
Releases Worldwide: February 20th, 2026

Signs of the Swarm – To Rid Myself of Truth Review

By Dear Hollow

I think deathcore’s lack of respect in metal circles is due to its subservience to trends. Riding waves of what’s considered too brutal or not, the recent MySpace-style revival and the inevitable shadow of Will Ramos-fronted Lorna Shore have collided to emphasize relentless brutality and utter sonic depravity. Signs of the Swarm has been a victim of this more than most, riding the coattails of the trends rather than setting them, and while offering some of the most intense deathcore offerings within the realm of the “low and slow” template, there’s been nothing to convince naysayers to give their albums a listen. Will To Rid Myself of Truth be the tipping point?

In many ways, To Rid Myself of Truth is the part 2 of predecessor Amongst the Low & the Empty, but the Pittsburgh quartet has never quite hammered down what their trademark approach to deathcore is. From the slammy gurgles of CJ McCreery’s troubled tenure in Senseless Order and The Disfigurement of Existence, to the husky roars of David Simonich in his contributions to discography highlights Vital Deprivation and Absolvere, Signs of the Swarm has latched onto Low & Empty’s template in being as brutally downtuned and chuggily cutthroat as possible. To Rid Myself of Truth continues the toe-dipping into djent and industrial for maximum heft and devastation, and while it’s better than its predecessor, it still begs the question why you should go out of your way to rid yourself of truth.

To Signs of the Swarm’s credit, To Rid Myself of Truth is a little more than the one-trick pony fucking shit up in the pit the way its predecessor was. Techier flourishes, rabid blastbeats, and rhythmic warbling offer reprieves in the muck, while better songwriting doesn’t end every track with ten-ton demonic breakdowns. Pinch harmonics add a dimension of madness to the already insane brutality (“Natural Selection,” “Iron Sacrament”) and jerky djent rhythms add a bit of variety (“Scars Upon Scars”), while a neat lil’ groove spices things up (“HELLMUSTFEARME,” “Chariot”). Once again, Simonich delivers an absolutely monstrous performance, his horrifying vocals an easy highlight amid low and empty chuggery, including some tasteful grunge-influenced cleans atop eerie industrial-influenced plucking and atmospheric tremolo picking (“Forcing to Forget”). Guest vocalists show up in tasteful areas, including the man, the myth, the Lorna-man Will Ramos (“Clouded Retinas”), Whitechapel’s Phil Bozeman (“Iron Sacrament”), 156/Silence’s Jack Murray, and Prison’s Johnny Crowder (“Fear & Judgement”), providing a bit of reprieve to Simonich’s all-consuming roar. To Rid Myself of Truth can feel like a honed version of Amongst the Low & Empty, utilizing the same tools but with tighter performances.

To Rid Myself of Truth has all the ingredients to a solid album – as Signs of the Swarm has always possessed – but the execution of excessive brutality and stuffy production makes it into a messed up deathcore duck-cake.1 While it felt like Amongst the Low & Empty had almost infinite breadth in its production and mixing, To Rid Myself of Truth is majorly compressed and condensed, perhaps lending itself to the tight galloping of Absolvere. But we can’t have our duck cake and eat it too, because the mix is absolutely suffocating trying to remedy the two approaches. As such, like you insulted Signs of the Swarm’s mother, you’ll be hit with so many concussions in sheer amount of breakdowns and venomous attacks, it’ll be hard to keep track (“HELLMUSTFEARME,” “Chariot,” “Sarkazein” all come to mind). Many of these tracks likewise follow a similar pattern, opening up with the title of the song roared, followed by bone-crushing breakdowns, too often adhering to the “To the Hellfire” formula of “yuuuuuuge” concussive chugs and Simonich sounding as animalistic and demonic as possible.

To Rid Myself of Truth is catharsis for Signs of the Swarm,2 a streamlined potpourri of no-frills deathcore that continually beats you over the head with “ze brootalz.” If this is your bread and butter, then feel free to rid yourself of truth – this album was written for you. Signs of the Swarm, as in the case with Amongst the Low & Empty, constantly impresses with its trendiness and novelty: a relentless breed of brutality with a consistently impressive vocal performance. However, once the novelty wears off, you’re left with brickwalled production and copied-and-pasted brutality. To Rid Myself of Truth? More like To Rid Myself of Tooth.3

Rating: 1.5/5.0
DR: 3 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Century Media Records
Websites: signsoftheswarm.bandcamp.com | signsoftheswarm.com | facebook.com/signsoftheswarm
Releases Worldwide: August 22nd, 2025

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