Ash Twin Project – Tales of a Dying Sun Review

By sentynel

Metal has a long history of writing songs inspired by science fiction and fantasy, probably because we’re all a bunch of great big nerds. Outer Wilds is a singular piece of storytelling, a work that couldn’t be told in any medium other than a video game: a story and a series of revelations pieced together from found fragments, with no enforced order or progression beyond what the player finds and assembles. Imagine my excitement when I saw the obviously Outer Wilds-inspired Ash Twin Project appear in the promo queue. Imagine how quickly I mashed the “assign to self” button before any of the other fans on the staff could pinch it.1 I’m going to avoid saying more about the game in this review to minimise spoilers for those who haven’t played it. Just trust me that if you like exploration and stories, you should drop everything and play it. (And avoid listening to the lyrics on this record until you have.)

I hadn’t even stopped to check the genre when I picked up Tales of a Dying Sun, but fortuitously, it’s post-rock/-metal and would have been my thing even without the theme. Ash Twin Project sit on the more melodic and immediate end of the genre. There’s not a huge amount of wandering ambience here, nor of huge, crushing riffs. Their guitar work is nearly always pretty, and the five songs here tend to evolve and reprise through a series of pretty melodies and occasional chugging riffs. There’s even a very prog-rock solo or two (“Cœlacanthe”). It’s very vocal heavy, befitting the narrative goal of the project. Eglantine Dugrand does most of the work with clean singing. She’s occasionally supported by Nicolas Lougnon’s harsh vocals in the traditional hardcore-influenced post-metal style.

Outer Wilds is a very musical game. The soundtrack is excellent, but it’s also important to the gameplay and story in a number of ways. Ash Twin Project have a tricky balance to strike in acknowledging that without simply covering the songs. They pull it off via some generally subtle musical references. Players will find the openings of tracks like “The Wilds,” “Isolation,” and “Sunless City” familiar, and more obviously the end of the album on “Moon.” Tales of a Dying Sun’s flaw is that aside from this, there’s little that makes Ash Twin Project stand out from a surfeit of other post-rock/metal bands. It’s not particularly unique, nor particularly hard-hitting. Post- led by a female vocalist brings obvious comparisons to healthyliving, but ATP aren’t distinctive to the same extent.

I need to highlight Stéphane Cocuron’s work on bass, metal’s most neglected instrument, which is interesting, forward in the mix, and interacts well with the guitars (“Sunless City”). Dugrand is a versatile lead vocalist. The material calls for a variety of tones, from ethereal to sweet to breathy to soaring to a belt, often on the same song (“Cœlacanthe,” “Isolation”), and she spans all these and more without any trouble. I’m not a huge fan of the slight vibrato she uses at times, but it’s hard to complain too much. The lyrics feel like they’re trying a bit too hard a lot of the time—often both overly literal and overly complex (“The Wilds,” “Cœlacanthe”). Nobody listens to metal for the poetic lyrics, but they’re such a big part of what the album is going for, so it’s a bit disappointing.

Tales of a Dying Sun is good. It’s melodic post-metal done well. It does a commendable job of referencing its source material in a way that tickles the brain without being derivative of it. Dugrand does a lot of the work carrying the album and does it well. But in the end, the connection with the game made me want to like this more than I actually do. I like it, but it’s not unique enough or hard-hitting enough to climb my year-end list.

Rating: Good
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Klonosphere Records
Websites: ashtwinproject.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/ashtwinprojectband
Releases Worldwide: April 4th, 2025

#2025 #30 #Apr25 #AshTwinProject #FrenchMetal #healthyliving #KlonosphereRecords #PostRock #PostMetal #Review #Reviews #TalesOfADyingSun

Supreme Void – Towards Oblivion Review

By Owlswald

Relative newcomers Supreme Void began their journey as Depravity in 2016, releasing a couple of EPs over a five-year period, culminating with 2021’s End of Games. The EP delivered a familiar slab of Polish death metal, packed with the aggression, technicality, and power that flagbearers like Behemoth and Hate have long championed. Presumably realizing the existence of numerous other bands named Depravity, the trio changed their name to Supreme Void in 2023, coinciding with their signing to French label Dolorem Records, who then re-released End of Games under the new moniker. Now, Supreme Void’s debut full-length, Towards Oblivion, aims to fuse the brutal, fast and specialized Polish sound with the dissonant and stylish tendencies of the likes of Ulcerate and Gorguts—a conceptually intriguing and ambitious endeavor that tests Supreme Void’s ability to carve out their own niche within a formidable death metal landscape.

Like a murkier Hate colliding with the ominous atmosphere of Ulcerate and groovier ambitions of Replicant, Towards Oblivion oscillates between crushing weight and morose, undulating passages. Strategically placed starts, stops, and tempo changes enhance Supreme Void’s varying moods and textures as eight-string guitar provides conquering low-end and drums pummel everything into dust with devastating precision. Exile’s monstrous roars blanket Supreme Void’s underlying chaos with a thick layer of demonic miasma while the grim rumble of bass rounds out the trio’s vast and immersive sound. Opener “Remnants of Hope” is a fitting representation of what to expect on Towards Oblivion with Ravager’s cacophonous arpeggiations, blazing tremolos, and mammoth chugs shifting and writhing with Cyklon’s syncopated eruptions and Exile’s massive roars. Benefiting once again from excellent production, Supreme Void crafts a dissonant and heavy soundscape marked by writhing tension.

Supreme Void’s powerful guitar-drum attack drives Towards Oblivion’s sinister manifestation with colossal might, binding twists, turns, and jolts into an intense and turbulent auditory assault. Tracks like “Sustained by Malice” and “Eclipse of the Exalted” contrast storms of discordant chords, thrashy riffs, and machine-like rhythms with trudging grooves, enigmatic hooks, and dark atmospheric transitions that are off-kilter but also captivating. Tasteful solos (“Embrace Extinction,” “Dissolution of Power,” “Repulse Manifesto”) showcase both technical skill and emotional vision while Meshuggah-esque drawls and plodding hits drag you further into the abyss. Cyklon’s drumming is outstanding—his menacing blasts and kicks melding with darting tempos, grooving transitions, and flickering cymbal flares augment Exile and Ravager’s swirling arpeggiated dissensions and percussive shredding. Unleashing terror, Exile’s growls saturate everything with an ardent layer of filth, effortlessly tearing through the instrumental mass. The production enhances everything, granting the material the necessary space to exude its qualities while allowing each piece of Supreme Void’s sonic onslaught to shine through with refreshing clarity.

For all of Supreme Void’s merits, Towards Oblivion is sometimes challenged by a sense of imbalance across its thirty-eight-minute runtime. “Repulse Manifesto” follows a less compelling arc as “Dissolution of Power” or “Remnants of Hope,” for example, which fully realize Supreme Void’s immersive qualities. Beginning with a subdued militaristic-like primer that feels like it should be a separate interlude, the track takes too long to develop before surging into its more convincing second half. While this hints at Supreme Void’s ability to command a “slow burn” style of songwriting, the execution is awkward and affects the song’s course. Additionally, closer “Embrace Extinction” lacks the same memorable hooks as Towards Oblivion’s stronger compositions, and “Eclipse of the Exalted” feels a bit overlong, largely due to the song’s cyclical back end.

Despite these stumbles, however, Towards Oblivion finds Supreme Void delivering a strong debut that effectively merges the ferocious sounds of Polish death metal with the dark, ominous tones of today’s disso-death scene. The young trio’s dynamic interplay of crushing heaviness, shifting tempos, maddening dissonance, and technical skill—particularly the one-two punch of the guitars and drums—is enveloping and will appeal to fans across the ever-widening death metal spectrum. Although Towards Oblivion occasionally trips at asserting its vigor, Supreme Void’s clear command of aural intensity, coupled with their ambition, serves as a gateway for them to rip open the abyss with reckless abandon in the future. I, for one, will be eagerly waiting to venture into the void again.

Rating: Good!
DR: N/A | Format Reviewed: Stream
Label: Dolorem Records | Bandcamp
Websites: supremevoid.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/supremevoid
Releases Worldwide: April 25th, 2025

#2025 #30 #Apr25 #Behemoth #DeathMetal #Depravity #DissonantDeathMetal #DoloremRecords #Gorguts #Hate #Meshuggah #PolishMetal #ProgressiveDeath #Replicant #Review #Reviews #SupremeVoid #TowardsOblivion #Ulcerate

Phantom – Tyrants of Wrath Review

By Tyme

Vampires and castles and axes, oh my! In addition to a love for the video game Castlevania, these are some of the favorite things for Guadalajara, Mexico’s Phantom, reflected in the cool Meagan Lemay cover art. I had a fair amount of fun with Phantom‘s 2023 debut album, Handed to Execution. It’s a tasty little slab of thrashy speed metal that took me back to the halcyon days of Kill ‘Em All Metallica and Show No Mercy Slayer. When I saw Phantom‘s follow-up, Tyrants of Wrath, floating around in the sump pit, I waded into Castle de AMG’s mucky moat, battling tentacled meanies and dodging Grier‘s skid mark-ruined speedos to retrieve it. I was eager to find out if Tyrants of Wrath would fill me with war lust and have me storming the gates or leave me non-plussed and in my cups, lazily slumped next to a fire.

Tyrants of Wrath sounds straight out of 1985 and finds Phantom tweaking the more straightforward formula used on Handed to Execution. Carryover traces of early Metallica and Slayer, with some Kreator and Razor bits thrown in for good measure, remain intact as forays into trad-metal, second-wave black metal, and atmospheric organ/piano interludes attempt to expand Phantom‘s overall sonicscape. JC Necrohex and Harel Mortem fly across fretboards in flurries of furious riffs and chaotic lead work, imbuing early tracks like “The Tower of Seth” and “Violent Invasion” with raw, thrashy, speed metal intensity that lands just this side of completely unhinged. The chorus to the Midnight-fueled banger “Thunderbeast” will have you pounding your chest, eager to make war, not love. JC’s vocals remain on point for the style, pairing blackened growls ala Kreator‘s Endless Pain-era Ventor mixed with high-pitched screams that would put a smile on Tom Araya’s face. Rair Tavizon provides pounding bass lines, and JP Alatorre rounds out the rhythm section, turning in a serviceable drum performance that mostly corrals Phantom‘s chaotic acrobatics, but not always. With more expansive songwriting and experimentation, Tyrants of Wrath is the product of a young band broadening its musical horizons.

The ambition of Phantom‘s vision exceeds the resources available to execute it successfully. While the front edge of Tyrants‘ sword does positive damage, holes in the castle’s defenses start to show when “Nimbus” rolls around. Meant as a traditional nod toward old-school influences like Manilla Road and Heavy Load, the track suffers from weak instrumentation—its strongest pulse some Maiden-esque dual guitar leads—and clean vocals that never stretch from their narrow baritone range, hobbling with broken wings, a track meant to soar like an eagle. Add in the amateurish, Egyptian-tinged “Lost in the Sands,” where the guitars and drums fall entirely out of sync and distract rather than charm, to the very awkwardly performed, ill-flowing piano interlude “Nocturnal Opus 666,” and it’s clear Phantom is unable to stretch far enough to fulfill Tyrants of Wrath‘s intended goal.

With a runtime of just over forty-eight minutes, Tyrants of Wrath is far from the brevity of Handed to Execution, which is disappointing because the unrealized gains of Phantom‘s experimentation lead to this bloat. That’s not to say every experiment fails, as the spooky intro, spunky-punk bass, and tremolo strumming of “Dance of the Spiders” works in a mostly non-Phantom way, and closer “Dark Wings of Death,” an excellent amalgamation of speed-thrashy chugs and trad-heavy, war horse galloping riffs make for a trver representation of what an evolved Phantom is capable of. I’m happy my active listening of “Dark Wings of Death” allowed me to reach that conclusion since, sadly, the fatigue I felt during my initial, traditionally linear listening sessions left me apathetic to this last song’s successful charms.

Phantom is a fun and very young band, which works in their favor as they continue to evolve and find their footing. Handed to Execution was a nostalgically compelling and raucously promising debut. While I think Tyrants of Wrath, despite its expansive intentions, sees Phantom take a step back, there’s a lot to look forward to as well. I commend these youngsters for having the courage to look beyond the relative success of their previous effort to do something exactly as they want. There are glimpses on Tyrants of Wrath of what a more mature third Phantom outing could sound like, and you can bet I’ll be there to listen to it.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 10 | Format Reviewed: 320kbps mp3
Label: High Roller Records
Website: Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: April 25th, 2025

#25 #2025 #Apr25 #HighRollerRecords #Kreator #Metallica #MexicanMetal #Phantom #Razor #Review #Reviews #Slayer #SpeedMetal #ThrashMetal #TyrantsOfWrath

Vomitizer – Release the Rats Review

By Mark Z.

I’m this site’s resident “vomit” guy. I didn’t choose this life, it chose me. Nonetheless, I take my duties seriously, and when I see a band in the promo bin with “vomit” in the name, I know I have to review it (even if I’m a fucking week late in doing so). So it was with Vomitrot, so it was with the bands before them, and so it is with Vomitizer. Formed in 2023, this dirty Norwegian group bring with them experience in many other metal bands I’ve never heard of, including Chton, Corroder, Cleaver, and Ghetto Ghouls. Release the Rats is the band’s debut album and is described as “a concept album telling an apocalyptic story about how the world rots through fanatics, pestilence and the pure evil of mankind.” I question the need to even listen to this record given that this “story” seems to just be everyday life these days, but such are my solemn duties as this site’s designated vomit scholar. Fortunately, while Vomitizer deliver the nastiness you’d expect from their name, they also offer a few surprises that make for a decent little romp through the filth of the world.

At its core, Release the Rats is a death metal album, though Vomitizer often incorporate ideas that cause this putrid pile to ooze over stylistic borders. The ragged, chunky riffs that serve as the album’s building blocks remind me of a certain thrower of bolts, while the manic, phlegmy rasp of vocalist “PeTerror” likewise feels most firmly rooted in the death metal genre. Yet atop this foundation, you have more atypical moments, like the sharp clean picking that appears in the chorus of the opener, “A Wonderful World to Destroy,” and the verses of the second track, “Rat Religion.” Both “Rat Religion” and a later highlight, “Something Dark and Bloody Did Indeed Occur,” also venture even further from the metal of death, incorporating frostier progressions that evoke the blackened spirit of Immortal’s Sons of Northern Darkness.

Though the sound is raw and unkempt, Vomitizer’s ability to craft direct and memorable songs causes them to be successful regardless of exactly what style they’re playing. “The Church of Rats” slows things to a more shambling pace early in the runtime, yet the switchup feels entirely welcome at that point in the album, and the song’s big, dominant chords ultimately make for a solid tune. Later, “The Reek of Death” again slows things down but takes a sludgier approach in doing so, sounding like what would probably happen if Bolt Thrower drank Eyehategod’s bath water. Perhaps the oddest switchup comes in “Indulge into Chaos,” which features gruff, semi-clean vocals that sound something like Crowbar. Through it all, the band have a snotty, anything-goes attitude that’s hard not to find at least somewhat endearing.

Though nothing here is bad, the album is hampered a bit by a lack of consistency. After opening with three of its strongest songs, the record immediately gives us some of its weakest. Compared to the opening cuts, “Pestilence (the Sickness)” is much shorter and feels like it could have used more time in the incubator. “Rattus Rittualis” is also a misstep. The two-minute song is essentially an extended buildup, making it sound more like an album intro that was accidentally placed as the fourth track. Later, “Raw Meat” barrels forward with lots of energy but little impact. Through it all, the production gets the job done, with an unpolished sound that presents everything clearly without doing anything special. Fortunately, the closer, “Wicked Supremacy,” ends things in a strong fashion, with its groaning tremolos and catchy chugs coming the closest to evoking the trve glory of Bolt Thrower.

Ultimately, Release the Rats sounds like one of those fun little records that you randomly discover years after its release and are happy you did so, even if it doesn’t quite rise to the level of “hidden gem.” I appreciate the album’s memorability, diversity, and quality riffs, but the occasionally undercooked compositions hold it back a bit. Nonetheless, even if Vomitizer seem more obsessed with rodents than retching up last night’s dinner, they’re still more than worthy of the “vomit” name, and those looking for an eclectic and enjoyable batch of extreme metal tunes could find far worse ways to spend 34 minutes.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 128 kbps mp3
Label: Undercover Records
Websites: Facebook | instagram.com/vomitizerofficial
Releases Worldwide: April 25th, 2025

#2025 #30 #Apr25 #BlackMetal #BoltThrower #Chton #Cleaver #Corroder #Crowbar #DeathMetal #Eyehategod #GhettoGhouls #Immortal #NorwegianMetal #ReleaseTheRats #Review #Reviews #UndercoverRecords #Vomitizer #Vomitrot

Ancient Bards – Artifex Review

By Killjoy

Italy’s Ancient Bards was one of my formative bands as a budding metalhead. Their original trilogy (The Alliance of the Kings, Soulless Child, A New Dawn Ending) received tons of playtime as I dove headfirst through my twin gateways of symphonic and power metal years ago. Then, one fateful day amidst my excitement for a brand new album, I happened upon Eldritch Elitist’s review of Origine by way of a Google search, the first I ever read on Angry Metal Guy. Its brutal and unflinching honesty initially shocked my naïve, uninitiated mind but though I would have rated Origine a touch higher, I had to agree that it was the weakest Ancient Bards record thus far. And now that fifth album, Artifex, is here, I’m relieved to report that this is still the case.

Ancient Bards have now completed their transition from symphonic power metal to power symphonic metal. Songwriter Daniele Mazza’s orchestral and choral arrangements were always important, but now they positively drench the music. It’s impossible not to hear Epica in the unabashed bombastic excess, an association further cemented by a guest appearance from Mark Jansen as he practically breathes fire delivering his lines in “The Empire of Black Death.” Sara Squadrani’s voice sounds sharper than ever, soaring and slicing like the Black Crystal Sword that serves as the focal point for the Bards’ epic saga. Martino Garattoni’s frisky bass noodling crosses over from Ne Obliviscaris to Artifex—especially echoing his other band when paired with the guest violin1 in “Soulbound Symphony”—and offers rich counterpoint melodies while filling out the lower end nicely.

Ancient Bards have grown more confident with increasingly complex songwriting. The choir’s lines are largely distinct from Squadrani’s, discontinuing the prior tendency to dilute her lead vocals. The operatic swells that punctuate “Soulbound Symphony” and “My Prima Nox” supercharge the music with euphoric energy. Further, “My Blood and Blade” literally channels the climactic power of Ancient Bards’ earlier work by cleverly weaving an identical choral melody from A New Dawn Ending’s “Showdown” into this chapter’s final battle. Unfortunately, some of the issues that cropped up on Origine persist on Artifex, most noticeably when the orchestral compositions evoke the heavy-handed, “tell, don’t show” style common in movie trailers (“Ministers of Light,” “Luminance and Abyss,” “Mystic Echoes”). Regardless of how strong each orchestral segment is, it’s disappointing that they’ve essentially supplanted Claudio Pietronik’s guitar leads, which are usually buried underneath everything else outside of their allotted shredding time during the bridges. Artifex is an improvement in many technical respects, but it sometimes feels like the symphonic elements have become the end rather than the means.

Artifex has no shortage of adventurous and exciting moments, but the overall pacing makes it less enthralling as a whole. The hour-long album sags under the weight of two ballads (“Unending,” “Sea of Solitude”) and the two bookending narrative tracks (“Luminance and Abyss,” “Artifex”). “Unending” is particularly troublesome, as it clotheslines the momentum garnered from back-to-back guest vocalists Francesco Cavalieri of Wind Rose (“The Vessel”) and the aforementioned Mark Jansen of Epica (“The Empire of Black Death”). This generic love song stands in stark contrast with other Bards ballads that advanced character development with heart-wrenching topics like the loss of an infant child and, crucially, weren’t afraid to speed things up to keep the listener engaged. Luckily, Squadrani’s raw talent as a singer functions as a safety net when the songwriting fizzles and falls off the track. The other major speedbump is the Suite of Requiem and Solace (the final four songs replacing the customary epic concluding track), which takes a bit too long to wrap up the story after the electric resolution of “My Blood and Blade.”

Artifex is a wild ride with higher highs but also lower lows than ever before. When the symphonic compositions are integrated well, it feels exhilarating; when they feel forced, the songs fall flat. I’m not convinced that moving away from power metal is the right choice, as the guitarists are underutilized in this new style. But, while I don’t agree with every creative decision, I still enjoy Artifex and its masterful performances. It’s a humbling privilege to write the next Ancient Bards review after stumbling onto Eldritch’s years ago. Call it nostalgia if you like, but their earnest, heartfelt music still makes me happy. By that measure, I dub Artifex a success.

Rating: Good!
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Limb Music
Websites: ancientbards.bandcamp.com | ancientbards.com | facebook.com/ancientbards
Releases Worldwide: April 25th, 2025

#2025 #30 #AncientBards #Apr25 #Artifex #Cinematic #Epica #ItalianMetal #LimbMusic #NeObliviscaris #PowerMetal #Review #Reviews #SymphonicMetal #SymphonicPowerMetal #WindRose

Exterminatus – Echoes From a Distant Star Part 1 Review

By Owlswald

“Exterminatus” is a Warhammer 40k term that describes a global mass extinction event authorized by the emperor when the Imperium deems the cost of holding or retaking a planet too high. While I’m naïve about such things, Canadian fivesome Exterminatus certainly isn’t. And these Canucks are here to incinerate your eardrums with a heavy dose of sci-fi inspired tech-death. Originally demoed in 2012, Echoes From a Distant Star Part I was to be the follow-up to Xenocide’s debut album, Galactic Oppression. However, the group disbanded before they completed the album, and its members—including most of the original lineup—subsequently formed Exterminatus. Thirteen years later, these Vancouverites have released two solid albums and are finally prepared to relaunch Echoes after recording and re-recording the material three times. Seeking to venture into deep space through a celestial narrative that investigates interstellar creation and its obscure realities, I’m left wondering if the destination justifies the voyage.

Raising the pace and intensity of its predecessors, Exterminatus mostly operates in overdrive on Echoes, peppering the limited moments of empty space with Faceless-esque grooves and melodic leads. Lead by the dual axe attacks of Tabreez Azad and Elia Baghbaniyan, the duo warps the fabric of reality with their percussive shredding, laser-fire tremolos, and technical articulation, flicking and tapping for thirty minutes across the album’s seven chapters.1 Together with Max Sepulveda’s (The Zenith Passage) ruthless drumming, the trio dominate the record’s linear mix, occasionally permitting Lucas Abreu’s virtuosic basslines to break through the wall of crushing brutality (“The Cloud,” “Suffer in Silence”). Lukas Bresan’s heavy Archspire-like growls provide additional gravity as they narrate Echoes’ grand planetary saga. Drawing inspiration from the famous works of Isaac Asimov and Arthur C. Clarke, as well as the Stargate SG-1 and Mass Effect franchises, Exterminatus explores the universe’s fundamental forces through the familiar and technical movements of tech-death’s stalwarts.

Exterminatus thrive when they back off the accelerator and use their technical expression to manipulate the cosmos in a manner that boosts Echoes’ groove-rich currents. Closer “The Signal,” is a no-frills banger that finishes with a savage dose of syncopated thrash riffs and agile drumming that aptly finds the balance between brutality and accessibility. Abreu’s playful bass lines at the onset of “Cosmic Disturbance” conveys its ominous warning with finesse, while the pulse-driven riffing of the song’s end hits with the power of a supernova. Meanwhile, the heroic solo before the launch of “Starbound” or the melodic leads of “The New Theia” provide moments of respite around outbursts of cosmic turbulence. Though Echoes’ highlights are generally not as memorable as I would like, there are enough amidst the onslaught of staccatos, pummeling double bass, and light speed shifts to provide necessary touchstones and avoid a full system overload.

Still, Exterminatus’ ambitious pursuit fares better in concept than in execution. Track sequencing and songwriting diminish Echoes’ voyage, hindering the whole with abrupt openings and sudden descents that disrupt the journey. Songs like “Primordial Sea,” and “The New Theia” suffer from bloat, while “Suffer in Silence” and “The Signal” seem truncated. Accordingly, Echoes feels more academic than vibrant, a collection of separate tracks that are challenging to connect with, rather than an absorbing cosmic saga. Additionally, the production sacrifices nuance and emotion for volume and intensity, thereby crushing any promise of dynamics. The overly loud mix is too aggressive—particularly the drums and guitars—which fatigued my ears and became frustrating. Likewise, Exterminatus’ reliance on tropey bass drops to replace the lack of energy in Echoes’ peak moments are a distraction, achieving the opposite of their intended effect.

Despite years of development, Echoes doesn’t hit its mark. Exterminatus clearly possess the talent to create something special, and their commitment to crafting an ambitious, sci-fi narrative is commendable. However, the album’s songwriting and production prevent it from reaching its potential, serving instead as a demonstration of what they are capable of. What Echoes lacks in cohesion, it partly compensates for in technical expression and sheer sonic intensity. But if Exterminatus can refine the issues that hinder Echoes, their next venture into the cosmos could be great indeed.

Rating: Mixed
DR: 4 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Self-Released
Websites: exterminatus.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/exterminatusband
Releases Worldwide: April 18, 2025

#25 #2025 #Apr25 #Archspire #CanadianMetal #DeathMetal #EchoesFromADistantStarPart1 #Exterminatus #Review #Reviews #SelfReleased #TechnicalDeathMetal #TheFaceless #TheZenithPassage

Sijjin – Helljjin Combat Review

By Mark Z.

I’ve heard people say that today’s music has nothing new to offer, but I actually think it has the opposite problem. To me, there are too many fucking bands out there playing technical blackened dissodeath with a tuba or some shit and not enough who simply take a tried-and-true style and execute it well. Such was what initially drew me to Sijjin. Right around the time their infamous doom-death band Necros Christos dissolved in 2021, bassist/vocalist Malte Gericke and drummer Iván Hernández joined forces with guitarist Ekaitz Garmendia (Legen Beltza) to pay homage to the earliest years of death metal with Sijjin’s full-length debut, Sumerian Promises. With its twisted tremolos and thrashy undercurrents, Sumerian Promises was a fun throwback that reeked with the archaic death stench of bands like Sadistic Intent, Mortem, Atomic Aggressor, and early Morbid Angel. Almost four years later, the group have now finally delivered their second album, Helljjin Combat. But is this a triumphant victory or yet another casualty of the heavy metal battlefield?

One thing is clear: Helljjin Combat is quite a bit different than its predecessor. The change in approach is apparent right from the opener, “Fear Not the Tormentor,” which begins with an extended instrumental opening that uses technical riffing and lively bass guitar in a way that almost sounds like Voivod. The tech-thrash vibe continues throughout the songs’s eight-and-a-half minute runtime, with dexterous fretwork trading off with quick, chunky chords and twirling tremolos, all anchored by a refrain that consists of a staccato shout of the track title. While it’s not the primitive death-thrash I was looking for, it’s a fine song in its own right.

Unfortunately, the rest of the album isn’t quite as successful in executing the band’s new style. It soon becomes apparent that many of these eight tracks spend less time delivering sharp hooks and memorable riffs and more time simply lurching forward on mid-paced pseudo-grooves that only occasionally get the head bobbing. Sometimes, interesting ideas will crop up, like when “Religious Insanity Denies Slavery” evokes old Metallica with a dusty, cleanly-picked midsection that builds into Old West-style lead guitars. Yet moments like this only make it more apparent how so much of the surrounding material fails to stand out. It doesn’t help that none of these songs are under five minutes, and it’s also unfortunate how many of them open with similar-sounding semi-technical riffs that make me contemplate hitting the stop button well before the album’s 49 minutes are over. Malte’s vocals also sound throatier and less raspy than on Sumerian Promises, which is fitting for the band’s new approach but still isn’t the most welcome change.

Fortunately, there’s some stuff to enjoy here. The two pre-release songs, “Dakhma Curse” and “Five Blades,” probably won’t make anyone’s Song ‘O the Year List, but at least their nimble riffing and quicker rhythms offer the album a nice shot of energy. “The Southern Temple” serves as a decent closer with the more powerful riffing in its second half, and the band’s instrumental prowess is more impressive than ever (especially Ekaitz’s adept riffing and solos). Ekaitz recorded the album in his own studio in the Basque Country, and the result is fantastic. The sound is clear and powerful, with the guitars roaring confidently and the bass guitar maintaining an active and distinct presence below the riffing. And while the atmosphere isn’t as strong as the debut, there’s still a whiff of ancient evil here that I find most welcome.

Yet ultimately, Helljjin Combat is the epitome of a Mixed bag. While the production and the instrumental performances are great, the songwriting is less compelling. With a few sharper hooks, tighter track lengths, and a couple of faster songs, Helljjin Combat could have easily been better than Sumerian Promises. As it is, I can’t help but be a bit disappointed that not only did Sijjin choose to move away from death metal and into a more technical thrash metal sound, but also that they didn’t do the best job executing this new style. While there are a couple of decent songs and some impressive things here, I don’t see Helljjin Combat as an album I’ll be returning to often.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Sepulchral Voice Records
Websites: sijjin.bandcamp.com | Facebook | instagram.com/sijjin_official
Releases Worldwide: April 25th, 2025

#25 #2025 #Apr25 #AtomicAggressor #DeathMetal #HelljjinCombat #InternationalMetal #LegenBeltza #Metallica #MorbidAngel #Mortem #NecrosChristos #Review #Reviews #SadisticIntent #SepulchralVoiceRecords #Sijjin #ThrashMetal #Voivod

Benthos – From Nothing Review

By Dear Hollow

It’s sexy when things you love collide with things you hate. My lust for mathcore is well-established – I go hard for that mind-numbing dyscalculic tinnitus any day – but if you put a slab of prog metal in front of me, I’m gonna go as flaccid as a gummy worm in a hot car faster than you can say “Wilderun.” That’s Benthos. The Italian collective slides a platter of progressive rock’s lush, ambivalent, and emotive movements alongside mathcore’s jagged edges and feral energy, and you’re guaranteed to find something you’ll love and hate – and get hot and bothered by. It’s core’s sellout and prog’s elitism personified in the dichotomy of the heavenly and hellish – yet in your divinely appointed and coarsely deadly free will, you decide which is which. In the words of the wisest, “yeet and yoink” with this particular Haken-themed hatefuck.

Benthos has been around since 2018, and gained recognition in their hometown of Milan by opening for The Contortionist and appearing in the Dissonance Festival in 2023. From Nothing is their debut full-length, although they released the ironically titled EP/mini-album II in 2021. Settled upon a foundation of lush melodies and evasive chord progressions before exploding into frantic Dillinger-inspired rhythm abuse, the act wavers between super serious and frantically silly, soulful cleans colliding haphazardly with demonic shrieks. From Nothing is ambitious in fusing two styles strangely congruous but also not at all, but in the end Benthos is exactly split down the middle, its arrhythmic beatdowns stealing the spotlight from masturbatory prog sections, blurring into some ambivalently erotic background.

First glances of Benthos are synth-heavy progressions and killer vocals. Gabriele Landillo has a formidable set of pipes, their post-hardcore-meets-Chino Moreno vibe lending a creeping sexiness (“Let Me Plunge,” “The Giant Child”) and a desperate belt that adds serious dynamic and show-stealing propensity (“From Nothing,” “Pure”), keeping the more uninteresting passages from descending into drearier monotony. Without careful listening, however, the proggier tracks blur together in a blurry pastel mesh in sprawling layered atmospheric rock tricks – serious synth on guitar action – with interspersed chuggy portions, feeling like a less nuanced songwriting a la (recent) The Contortionist or The Fall of Troy. Speaking of your favorite dark romance crooner Chino, From Nothing feels quite a bit like Deftones’ Gore in its decision to put include metal as a mere monument marker on the jaded journey to the pits of prog – ultimately, a bit of a cockblock. Benthos mixing is likewise stellar, Alberto Fiorani’s dummy thicc bass as audible as the cheek-clapping guitars and slamming drums.

Of its two audio halves, Benthos’ more chaotic mathcore attacks offer the best listening experience. After the vastly longwinded four-song introductory blur, the intro to “As a Cordyceps” introduces what makes From Nothing worth a bit more. Practically brimming with energy, the mathcore technicality and hardcore intensity finally kick in. This continues into the easy highlights that dispense the prog fluff into something that feels cutthroat and quirky, wonky leads weaponized with nimble and mind-bending rhythms (“Fossil,” “Athletic Worms,” “Perpetual Drone Monkeys”). These give Benthos more breathing room when the proggy sensibilities raise their ill-smelling feet, offering nuance to otherwise unwelcoming rooms. These also incorporate more of these chunkier vibes into more mundane moments, letting the rhythms inject a tasteful – albeit short-lived – dose of intensity (“The Giant Child,” “Pure”).

The best and worst part about From Nothing is that Benthos manages to sound both bored to tears and absolutely apeshit depending on which part you tune into. Its moments of unhinged insanity are too few and far between to warrant consistency or balance… or a solid recommendation. But if you’re like Dolphin Whisperer and like your music hot and heavy, while disrobing From Nothing’s many sexy layers and textured sprawls, take a cold shower before venturing out to pick up a copy.1 Benthos offers promise with the softness for the foreplay and the vigor for the penetration, but From Nothing has difficulty keeping it up across its forty-five minute runtime with too-long portions of pretty monotony2 and excessive indulgence,3 but armed with a vocalist both sexy and devastating and an instrumental presence as bonkers as it is patient… goddammit, I need a cold shower now.4

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Inside Out Music
Websites: benthosmusic.bandcamp.com | benthos-band.com | facebook.com/benthosbandofficial
Releases Worldwide: April 11th, 2025

#25 #2025 #Apr25 #Benthos #Deftones #FromNothing #Haken #InsideOutMusic #ItalianMetal #Mathcore #ProgressiveMetal #ProgressiveRock #Review #Reviews #TheContortionist #TheDillingerEscapePlan #TheFallOfTroy #Wilderun

Cave Sermon – Fragile Wings Review

By Thus Spoke

For the second year in a row, I was blindsided by a silent Cave Sermon drop. At least it didn’t take me 11 months to catch up this time.1 Album number three, Fragile Wings, sees Charlie Parks returning as a solo act, but now handling vocals on top of everything else. This latter is a welcome development, given how well the previous record proved vocals complement and enhance the unique musical style. After Divine Laughter blew my socks off and nonchalantly pushed its way to the top half of my 2024 year-end list, a follow-up so soon filled me with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. Surely he couldn’t do it again? But, of course, he has.

Fragile Wings is instantly recognisable as Cave Sermon, but rather than simply being Divine Laughter part two—not that I would have complained about that—it is tonally quite different. Different, but with the same dreamlike longing at its core. Whereas its predecessor felt nihilistic and angry, Fragile Wings is a little more vulnerable, a little sadder, and more wistful. This shines through the now more prominent melodies, which feel playful and exuberant, in the beguiling way that characterises Cave Sermon’s sound. Fluid layers of liquid strums, riffs that vibrate alternately with urgency and mirth (“Hopeless Magic,” “”Moloch”), and tremolos that burr and hum as much as they warble like songbirds up and down scales (“Three-Headed Moth,” “Ancient to Someone”). The untamed tempos that lead tracks through a series of stomps, sways, charges, and thoughtful pauses are more mischievous than before, in a way that makes explicit the spirited defiance that bubbled within Divine Laughter. Parks’ vocals work just as well as Miguel Méndez’s did, if not better, against this vibrant backdrop, and there’s an additional weight given to the already strange and touching lyrics because their author is now delivering them himself.

Fragile Wings is stirring and vivacious, and somehow outdoes Divine Laughter in its sparkling dynamism and bright unusualness. After arresting with odd, colourful arrangements, Cave Sermon looks wryly over at the listener and says, “watch this,” as some effervescent lead comes frolicking in (“Moloch,” “Three-Headed Moth”), or an already satisfying groove switches to a new dance with a flick and a crash (“Hopeless Magic,” “Ancient for Someone”); you can’t help but smile back. The very way guitars are distorted, and the atmosphere surrounding their notes and the here-skittish, there-assertive percussion, is…different. And this is all charming because it’s not self-indulgent; not weird and challenging and complicated, but refreshing, like a splash of cool water to the face on a hot day. All the more so given how Cave Sermon makes it look easy, creating a soundscape that seems simpler than it is, managing to presage and reprise melodies and rhythms in a way I can only describe as “very cool.” Interwoven strands of ethereal ambience—warm strums and purring high notes (“Arrows and Clay,” “Sunless Morning”)—violent sludgy riffs and a tripping, resonant drumbeat (“Moloch,” “Ancient for Someone”); symphonies of burbling tremolo and synths (“Hopeless Magic,” “Ancient for Someone”); and the delicate assuredness of wavering melodies, each are so carefully placed, but weightless, as though carried by some spirited wind that breezes through each track.

In this organic, careless novelty and expression, Fragile Wings continues what Divine Laughter established, but does it better. Not only is it more poignant, it flows with a more tangible through-line, and even cleverer rhythmic interplay. There is no track-length ambient noise here; this tendency is relegated to the faded conversation that closes “Arrows and Clay,” and the birdsong scattered over the serene first act of “Sunless Morning.” The difference is that these are not divorced from the music, but part of it, contributing to its sense of nostalgia, and sombre reflectiveness. A harsher version of me would still argue that the first half of “Sunless Morning” is a bit too slow of a build, but another would gesture fanatically at the song’s second act, with its quaking bass refrain and heartfelt tremolo descent melody that might actually be the best on the album, before it enters another wild dance I won’t spoil. Cave Sermon has refined their ability to transition between energies and styles whilst keeping the tone consistent. So seamless is the integration that it no longer feels like multiple genres are in play, but like a new one entirely.

Fragile Wings confirms what I had secretly hoped, that Divine Laughter was not just lightning in a bottle. If anything, it only raises the bar. Cave Sermon create music that is some magical combination of emotionally stirring, endlessly engrossing, and completely unique. There is simply no other artist in metal making music like them.2 You have to hear this.

Rating: Excellent3
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Self-Release
Website: Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: April 16th, 2025

#2025 #45 #Apr25 #AustralianMetal #BlackMetal #CaveSermon #DeathMetal #ExperimentalMetal #FragileWings #PostMetal #Review #Reviews #SelfReleased #Sludge

Structure – Heritage Review

By Steel Druhm

Just when I thought I’d make it to May without awarding the coveted Steel ov Approval, an unheralded project erupts from the Netherlands and forces my unwilling hand. Structure is the labor of love of Bram Bijlhout, who served seven years as a guitarist in atmo-doom deathers Officium Triste. Now he’s putting his own spin on the genre, handling everything save for vocals and drums. In comes the esteemed Pim Blankenstein, also of Officium Triste and The 11th Hour, to handle the former, with Dirk Bruinenberg (Elegy, ex-Adagio) manning the latter. On the full-length debut, Structure prove this project can honor the doom Heritage that birthed it. This is a massive, monolithic slab of doom that paints a sweeping mural across your head and heart, all in gray and black. Crushing and gorgeous in equal parts, Heritage takes you on an immersive journey through the human experience, teaching you about fathomless despair, undying hope, and ultimately, redemption. It’s a staggering work of heartbreaking genius, and something every doom fan needs to know about.

The album opens with what may be the hands-down winner of Song o’ the Year, “Will I Deserve It.” It’s a monumental doom epic that caves in your chest with its raw power and brings a tear to the most jaded eye with its heart-wrenching beauty. Vaguely Bathorycore riffs thunder away as Pim emits inhumanly death bellows, and soon the melancholic trilling calls to the sadperson in all of us. It’s heavy as fook but maintains a forlorn, tragic air, taking one back to the glory days of the Peaceville Three and those early My Dying Bride and Anathema gems. When Bram cuts loose with his soloing at the 4-minute mark, bittersweet beauty blooms like springtime flowers over the grave of a dearly departed, like a gift to remind you that, no matter where their spirit roams, they’re with you always. I could write 750 words about this song alone, but suffice it to say, it’s brilliant. It’s the rare album that can match a radiant moment like this one, but Heritage is far from done with its smoke show. “What We Have Lost” drags things down into funeral doom territory for rib-cracking density before gradually evolving into a more melodic voyage. Bram’s emotive guitar weaves throughout the heaviness as minimalist piano lines plink mournfully, and Mr. Pim shakes the rafters with unbearable pain. It’s a wonder something this intensely despondent can be so captivating, but despite its nearly 8-minute runtime, when it ends, you’ll wish it hadn’t.

“Long Before Me” is even longer yet no less stunning. It’s so morose and gloriously depressive, it’s almost exhilarating. It sucks you in with its funereal trilling and carries you away in its dark embrace. The guitars from 5 minutes onward are so minimalist but pure perfection. The title track borrows much from Warning’s timeless Watching from a Distance, replicating that album’s unrelenting glumness perfectly, only to switch to Bolt Thrower-esque power chugs that threaten your very existence. Surrounding these moments are bright, melodic bits that take me back to Edge of Sanity’s Crimson. Closer “Until the Last Gasp” is a somber instrumental that imparts the same grim emptiness evoked by the denouement of Agalloch’s Ashes Against the Grain, making one feel as if they stand at the precipice of a swirling, matter-annihilating black hole. As the track advances, small hints of hope creep into the droning doom, imparting faint rays of light into the inky blackness. The album climaxes with horns blaring a sad but cautiously uplifting note, giving you the perfect ending to a truly stupendous journey. At 50 minutes, Heritage somehow feels much shorter, and despite the harrowing despair, you won’t want to escape its bleak cocoon. It almost hurts to hear the last strains fade away into silence. I haven’t had that experience in a long time. I’m at a loss to find flaws, and no song feels overlong or bloated. This is an album you must experience as a whole, and it’s shockingly easy to digest in its entirety.

I’m nothing but impressed by what Bram accomplished here. His writing is at another level, and his guitar work is stunning. He does so much by doing so little, always opting for feeling over showboating. His melodic touches are perfect and arrive at ideal times to take some of the burden from the listener’s shoulders. His heavy riffing is spot on, oppressive, pulverizing, and inevitable. He shows a great ability to inject real emotion into the music without leaning too much on Goth idioms. It’s all so well-crafted and defined that Heritage is more like a master’s canvas than a recording. Many moments triggered an emotional response in me, though I strenuously resist such things. Mr. Blankenstein was the perfect choice to provide vocals. His ungodly death roars are powerful and tooth-rattling, and he pairs superbly with the larger-than-life material. He’s the ideal doom-death front man, and this may be his finest hour. Ayreon / Star One singer Robert Soeterboek provides very sparse, understated, clean vocals and does a fine job.

When you spin an album as heavy and depressive as this and immediately want to hit replay, there’s something very right about it, and something very wrong with you. Heritage is as close to flawless as it gets, and I’m unable to pinpoint any areas that could be improved upon. This is a stunning accomplishment, and I can’t do Heritage justice with mere words. You need to experience this yourself. A MUST HEAR.

Rating: 4.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Ardua Music
Websites: structure-doom.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/structure.doom
Releases Worldwide: April 25th, 2025

#2025 #45 #Anathema #Apr25 #ArduaMusic #DeathMetal #DoomMetal #DutchMetal #Heritage #MyDyingBride #OfficiumTriste #Review #Reviews #Structure #The11thHour #Warning

Changeling – Changeling Review

By Dolphin Whisperer

Creation, evaluation, iteration—art lives and transforms an untold number of times before its flesh lays bare for a dissecting audience. Thus, the album runs on a path of turns sharp, around, back again—whatever it takes—before the artist declares it enough. Tom Geldschläger has worn many musical lives, both under his given moniker and “Fountainhead” with acclaimed acts like Obscura and Ingurgitating Oblivion, and as a performer/engineer. And now, with Changeling, Geldschläger seeks to express a culmination of his works, partnerships, and curiosities in a grand exploration of his unique fretless guitar stylings amongst progressive, orchestral, and deathly conjurings. In the credits alone—over thirty performers with credits ranging from Wagner tuba to marimba to an Andy LaRocque (King Diamond, ex-Illwill) wailing solo—Changeling shows its mutable form forged of virtuosity, novelty, and adventure.

Looking to the past to create a history-laced work with a fresh trajectory holds a foundational pillar throughout Changeling. Consumers of Geldschläger’s past—whether they’ve realized he was part of it or otherwise1—will notice signature shred motifs and Cynic-imbued urgencies that pass through shades of Akróasis (“Instant Results,” “Falling in Circles”),2 with the epic conclusion of “Anathema” holding as a spiritual successor to “Weltseele.” Geldschläger has also accumulated a talented Rolodex along the way, with minor identities like Matthias Preisinger’s (Shape of Dreams) piano and strings and Jan Ferdinand’s (Ingurgitating Oblivion) vibraphonic emissions holding necessary weight against primary contributors like the chameleonic Morean (Alkaloid) on word and voice and virtuoso Arran McSporran (Vipassi, ex-De Profundis) on dancing bass. In the spirit of true collaboration, the resulting Changeling wears progressive music, and its own associated acts, in a vision that screams and scurries and soars into the fade of a thunderous drum strike.

A unifying voice of fretboard bombast holds tight the flow that whips Changeling through its fiery, deathly roots and its experimental crawl and swell. Though progressive and technical death metal begin to define early numbers, Changeling holds loose to genre conventions and pairs playful string ensembles (“Falling in Circles”), rhythm-warping oud tuplets (“World? What World?”), and tabla-guided choirs (“Changeling”). Of course, dissonance in excess and avant-garde-isms can often pose heavy barriers to long-term enjoyment. And though Changeling dabbles plenty in both the ghastly awe of Morean’s off-kilter and emotional vocal charisma (“Abyss” and “Abdication” hosting the greatest highlights), and alien tonal explorations (“Cathexis Interlude”), the weight of diverse riffage and stupefying power of Geldschläger’s fretless anomolies anchor Changeling in masterful songcraft—every song idea cradled and decorated with mischievous flair.

In sequence, Changeling swells from short-form shredscapades (“Instant Results,” “Falling in Circles”) to novella-length celebrations (“Anathema”)—layers of progression towards a whole. Following its escalating narrative, Changeling’s themes follow the spasm of psychedelic expansion (“Instant Results”) to dissociated questioning (“World? What World?”) to ego breakdown (“Abyss”) to awakening and rebirth (“Abdication,” “Anathema”). And despite this overarching cohesion, each successive track introduces a new element, whether it be as simple as the Germanic drama of deep brass (“World? What World?”), as darting as the chase of wobbly percussion (“Changeling”), or as escaping as the Yes-via-Princess Mononoke of dreamlike orchestration (“Abdication”). With every piece finding a return and final hurrah in the throes of “Anathema,” Changeling’s lengthy run feels justified so long as you can give it proper time and space.

And even if you can’t carve an hour to explore Changeling’s enriched and engorged elaborations, the questions that Changeling raises with this fresh take on progressive death metal dig plenty deep, even at the song level. Just how many times does that main ostinato in “World? What World?” jump instruments? Where does one rapid-fire guitar arpeggio end and velvety bass recursion begin in “Instant Results”? Is that slippery lead intro to “Falling in Circles” a bend, a dive, a slide, or some unholy combo of all three? Does any solo compete with the triumphant stutter-to-squeal finale of “Anathema”? Sometimes the answers include a revelation that yes, in its Devin Townsend-y “wall of sound,” Changeling requires some loudness adjustments. And, yes, that snare packs a POW more aggressive than any other sound on the whole album. But after countless dives into its meticulous and eccentric world, it’s apparent that Changeling wears any flaws it may have with an empowering and intoxicating flamboyance.

Rating: 4.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Season of Mist | Bandcamp
Websites: thefountainhead.de | changelingofficial.bandcamp.com | instagram.com/changeling.official
Releases Worldwide: April 25th, 2025

#2025 #45 #Alkaloid #Apr25 #Changeling #Cynic #DeProfundis #DevinTownsend #GermanMetal #IngurgitatingOblivion #Obscura #ProgressiveDeathMetal #ProgressiveMetal #Review #Reviews #SeasonOfMist #ShapeOfDreams #SymphonicDeathMetal #TechnicalDeathMetal #Vipassi #Yes

Conan – Violence Dimension Review

By Alekhines Gun

Alongside money, sex, and the number 42, “To crush your enemies, see them driven before you, and hear the lamentation of their women” remains the peak answer to the meaning of life. Such melodic woe, such malodorous despair is the anthem to many a succulent succumbing of the Other, the Lesser Than, and the Detested. Conan traffic in an unusually encouraging slab of doom; namely, rather than horror descending upon the listener, you are that horror, and woe betide all who come to oppose you and your curiously hawk-shaped weapons. Here to be the accompaniment to your next assault on all those whose name you scorn and singing the songs of your own personal terrorization of those beneath your notice, sixth LP Violence Dimension has arrived. Does it name a frame of mind? A place you exile your conquests? The wing of the dungeon the n00bs are kept in? Grab your noblest of steeds and polish your battle axe, we have a pillaging to get to.

While most subgenres survive based on the might of the RHIFF, doom survives as much on its tone as its composition. Violence Dimension offers that tone in spades, with a plod like the flinging of pure tar splatter into your eardrums and a woofer rattle thicker than a wooly mammoths mating thrusts. From the kickoff rumblings of “Frozen Edges of the Wound” to the opening quake of terror lifting the curtain on “Foeman’s Flesh”, Conan offer up a sound which sidesteps fuzzed out stoner tropes into something much more akin to banging impossibly large rocks together. The grindy, sub-one-minute “Warpsword” blasts with a sandpaper buzz to reduce your saber teeth to stumps in seconds. The vocals of Jon Davis echo across the neighboring mountain, bringing tidings of destruction meshed with rarely seen motivational lyrical refrains (“Total Bicep”) while riding grooves stacked atop grooves across the whole package.

Subjugating the Tyrannosaurus tone is one spear-chucking assault after another. “Desolation Hexx” comes out swinging an Ankylosaurus tail straight for the feeble brain cavity, only to keep wailing on you with extreme prejudice as drummer Johnny King switches his flows to take the repetition from merely brutal to prehistoric savagery. “Total Hex” rides riffs with balls bigger than Messa’s Belfry and closes out on a better Electric Wizard riff-and-fuzz-solo than that outfit has penned in several albums. Even the mostly instrumental title track manages to channel the sinister atmospheres of modern Bongripper into Conan’s own sense of identity and flow, with bass solos, ever-shifting drum fills, and one relentless chug after another violating the listener.

So with so much weighty blood and Brontosaurus poo being flung about, what’s the catch? Violence Dimension suffers excessively from “The Windhand paradox”. Every single song here features top-shelf, grade A, Triceratops steak medium rare riffage ready to create new caves to dwell in with their own might; these riffs are promptly run right past the stone age and well into the modern age, into regrettable monotony. Other than the possible exception of the title track (which itself starts to run out of steam the last couple of minutes), many of the songs don’t deserve the length they’re given. The shorter songs are absolute volcano cratering ragers, and every long song has many a melody of menace to welcome your enemies’ wives into your harem. But those moments don’t deserve to be repeated as often as they do, and what would make for a delightful 4 minute song gets pushed into a nine-to-ten-minute song with gleeful abandon. Closer “Ocean of Boiling Skin” is the worst offender, ending on a glorious clubbing of a groove and then ooga-booga’ing for a solid five extra minutes, until all the initial impact is long forgotten.

This is maddening because when Violence Dimension is on, it is on. Make no mistake, this is still a quality album and doom aficionados will find much to love here, but I’m rooting for more. Conan write unique, relatively uplifting, energetic doom, and I want more of it. I also want them to write riffs worthy of the song lengths they dole out, or commit to an album of shorter songs just to see what happens. For the moment, make sure your axes are sharpened and find your favorite loincloth, for Violence Dimension is here to ensure you have a fitting soundtrack to send your enemies to the great beyond in style.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 303 kbps mp3
Label: Heavy Psych Sounds Records
Websites: Album Bandcamp | Official Facebook Page
Releases Worldwide: April 25th, 2025

#2025 #30 #Apr25 #Bongripper #Conan #DoomMetal #ElectricWizard #HeavyPsychSoundsRecords #Messa #Review #Reviews #UKMetal #violenceDimension #Windhand

Wisdom & Fools – Prophecy Review

By Dr. A.N. Grier

Liminal Dread Productions has been on a roll with releases in the past year. Some really took it home (Vanessa Funke), while others (Weep) didn’t quite hit the mark. Now, they are back with the debut record from LA’s newest thrash band, Wisdom & Fools. As far as I can gather, this two-person outfit was a collaboration between vocalist/guitarist Philip Vargas and bassist John Ramirez, who fronts the one-person progressive death outfit Parasite. The only thing missing is a drummer. So, they bought a computer and did some shit. Prophecy is a brief record that tries to push the boundaries of thrash, technical thrash, and death. The result is a riff machine with harmonizing guitar leads and vocals in the vein of Pantera and Throwdown. It’s an odd combination of elements that could be an absolute hit or a thrash fire behind Albertson’s. Either way, its thirty-six-minute construction should at least get you through your morning coffee shits.

My favorite part about the band’s inception was their first release, a 2020 collab with Parasite called St. Angry (A Loving Tribute to Metallica’s St. Anger). Yep, you read that correctly. These four cover songs include “Dirty Window” and “Sweet Amber,” which absolutely no one asked for, especially considering that I prefer the unfiltered vocals of Papa Het to those of Vargas. After a couple of singles and an EP, Prophecy finally arrives as the band’s official debut LP. With eight original tracks that don’t include St. Anger covers, Wisdom & Fools set out with their programmed drums to leave a mark on the Bay Area thrash scene. But will that mark be a notch on the Big 4 bludgeoning club or that skid mark I had to wash out of my speedo?

The first thing you notice from the opening number, “Escaping Eden,” is its guitar chops and the bass that pops and rumbles like old-school Sadus. But after charging along with one of the better thrash licks on the album, the vocals kinda diminish the mood. The song becomes garbled with all the riff and mood changes, even if the death textures and stomping riff on the back end are nice touches. One of the best tracks on the album is “The Devil in a House of God.” The screaming vocals and heavy riffs deliver the goods, alternating between thrash mixtures and interesting, swirling guitar leads. The song also includes melodic elements, ’80s metal flourishes, and a headbangable interlude that—for some demented reason of my own—resembles the entrance song to WWE’s Hardy Boyz.

After the album comes out attacking, the back half introduces more melodic elements in back-to-back pieces, “Thorns” and “Perpetualis.” While “Thorns” is riddled with some interesting, old-school soloing and harmonizing guitar action, the song’s foundation is completely forgettable. And, once again, the vocals don’t help to bring this track up to the melodeath caliber it should be. Sadly, “Perpetualis” is an identical song to its predecessor. Repeating the verse, pre-chorus, and chorus sections for most of the track, the only interesting part is the harmonizing leads toward the end. Thankfully, the closer brings some semblance of justice to the previous tracks. “Husk” is a marching thrasher that dabbles in death-thrash territories before unveiling its own melodic tendencies. But the lush textures of the song’s outro are not enough to save the lackluster songwriting of the two previous tracks.

Prophecy is an enigma. While the performances are undoubtedly great—especially those harmonizing leads and the gigantic bass presence—the songwriting is lacking. Balancing between being a standard thrash band and a technical one, Prophecy achieves too much and too little at the same time. There are a lot of riffs on this platter, but they tend to blend rather than add memorable weight to the overall song. As stated before, the vocals also do little to contribute, and I find myself ignoring them to focus on the guitar and bass. All that to say, there is definitely something here that, with some restraint, could be great. Of all the songs, “The Devil in a House of God” seems to know what it wants to do, but most of the album becomes predictable, as if the riffs are used to promote the impressive leads and soloing sections. I’m not quite ready to write this band off, but this ain’t the album I wanted.

Rating: 2.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: WAV
Label: Liminal Dread Productions
Websites: wisdomfools.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/wisdomandfools
Releases Worldwide: April 25th, 2025

#20 #2025 #AmericanMetal #Apr25 #LiminialDreadProductions #Metallica #Pantera #Parasite #Prophecy #Review #Reviews #Sadus #ThrashMetal #Throwdown #VanessaFunke #Weep #WisdomFools

Kardashev – Alunea Review

By Carcharodon

Kardashev’s return has been the most eagerly anticipated in a year, and so far, it has been full of returning favorites. Since I discovered their stunning 2020 EP, The Baring of Shadows, they’ve been a firm favorite. Their progressive, blackened “deathgaze” was both haunting and beautiful in its ferociously emotive stylings. Although 2022’s Liminal Rite suffered a bit from its production, that didn’t stop me awarding it a 4.5 and placing it at #5 on my end-of-year List, both decisions that I stand by. Upping their progressive tendencies and leaning into longer form storytelling, I hoped the Arizonan quartet would carve their own little niche just a little deeper on fourth full-length, Alunea. Three years in the making, and picking up a tale they began on 2017’s The Almanac, can Kardashev possibly match what they achieved on Liminal Rite?

As Alunea opens on “A Precipice. A Door,” it’s immediately and unmistakably Kardashev. From the swelling wash of synths, through which Mark Garrett’s crystalline cleans and Nico Mirolla’s precise guitar lines slowly surface, to the propulsive, deftly progressive drum work by Sean Lang, I felt like I was on familiar ground. However, as Alunea progresses, it’s clear that the band’s journey is taking them in a subtly new direction. Dubbed as ‘deathgaze’ from an early stage in their career, much of the ‘gaze’ is now gone, with the band focusing on progressive, and even technical, death metal, recalling the likes of Fallujah and Aronious (parts of “Reunion” and “Truth to Form”). Garrett, whom I’ve lauded as one of metal’s most versatile vocalists, rampages through the album’s heavier passages, rasping, snarling, and growling like a man possessed. However, this juts up against fragile, stripped-back melodic passages, which see his soaring cleans, replete with powerful sustains set to rising guitar melodies and Alex Rieth’s liquid bass groove.

At an hour long, Liminal Rite risked faltering under its own weight. The fact that Kardashev reined in this tendency, keeping Alunea to a tight 43 minutes, despite the band’s deeper forays into progressive metal, does them credit. However, the compositions here don’t hold a candle to Liminal Rite or The Baring of Shadows. Meandering, often lacking an obviously discernible structure, Kardashev packed so many ideas in that it’s actually disorienting as tracks lurch unpredictably between frantic techy heaviness, extended melodic passages, or both. At its best, Alunea pulls this off. Lead single “Reunion,” probably closest in tone to earlier Kardashev, is great, while “Seed of the Night” and “We Could Fold the Stars” both showcase what I think Kardashev aimed for throughout: vicious heaviness, borrowing from both post-black and tech death, to create something harsh and crushing, but also complex. This is then played off against soft, but deceptively involved, melodic passages. While there are flashes of brilliance elsewhere (the back end of “Speak Silence,” which sees guest vocals from Genital Shame’s Erin Dawson being one), much of it falls short.

Too often, Alunea feels like Kardashev exploring partly formed ideas, leaping between them, without taking the time to either fully flesh out what they’ve written or consider logical sequencing. The skill of the musicians involved prevents the record from descending into the chaos it could have been in less capable hands, with transitions smooth, and the musicianship still top tier. But, whether it’s the confused “Truth to Form” or “Edge of Forever,” which simply runs out of energy and ideas around the halfway mark, Alunea lacks both bite and incisiveness. Garrett, so often the band’s MVP, is also clearly trying to further expand his already huge versatility. While his death growls and snarling, blackened rasp remain on point, and his cleans are as gorgeous as ever, he often leans into a heavily distorted bark, which sounds slightly forced and lacking in power. Kardashev did at least learn from the production errors made on Liminal Rite, with Alunea’s soundstage more expansive and the guitars just about in the right place in the mix, likely the work of new engineer Zack Ohren (taking over from Mirolla).

Penning this review of Kardashev’s latest outing has given me even less pleasure than Alunea itself. I was so disappointed by the first few spins that I had to leave it completely alone for a week before returning fresh. Rose-tinted spectacles duly crushed underfoot, I started to see some of Alunea’s qualities (“Reunion,” Seed of the Night” and “We Could Fold that Stars”) but its key shortcoming came into focus also: it lacks structures, which guide the listener through the journey Kardashev want to take you on. They did this very effectively on Liminal Rite, but, in cutting length, they also lost clarity in the songwriting. Alunea has many strong building blocks, but they have been stacked at overly jaunty angles.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Metal Blade Records
Websites: kardashev.bandcamp.com | kardashevband.com | facebook.com/Kardashevband
Releases Worldwide: April 25th, 2025

#25 #2025 #Alunea #AmericanMetal #Apr25 #Aronious #Deathcore #Deathgaze #Fallujah #GenitalShame #Kardashev #MelodicMetal #MetalBladeRecords #PostMetal #ProgressiveDeath #Review #Reviews

Cancer – Inverted World Review

By Steel Druhm

No one lists Cancer as their favorite death metal band. That’s because even in their heyday, they were pretty average. Early 90s platters like To the Gory End and Death Shall Rise were mildly enjoyable for their primitive, meatheaded approach, sitting at the crossroads of thrash and primordial death along with other bands of that era like Morbid Saint, Protector, and Incubus. 1993s The Sins of Mankind had a more proggy bent that cribbed notes from what Death was doing on Spiritual Healing and Human, and it had its moments. Yet none of these releases were formative or “Must Hear” records either then or now. After that, Cancer dubiously dabbled in nu-metal and groove, thereby alienating their fanbase. After 13 years in limbo, they started a second career redemption arc with 2018s Shadow Gripped, returning to their original death metal sound. Six years later, we get seventh album, Inverted World. Only vocalist/guitarist John Walker remains from the early days, and he brought in a whole new crew for this outing. The sound is basically what Cancer did on Shadow Gripped, offering proto-death with thrash influences. After a long, patchy history, can Cancer metastasize into a higher form?

The short answer is nope. Inverted World is the same kind of stuff Cancer spat out in the old days, ignoring everything that’s happened musically over the last few decades. This kind of evolutionary resistance works for some (all caveman death and Sodom), but it doesn’t do any favors for Cancer. Opener “Enter the Gate” is mid-paced OSDM spiced with modest breakdowns and slight traces of prog. It has the basic Cancer sound, but it’s a very watered-down version of it, and John Walker’s vocals sound weak and uninspired. There are some interesting riffs and guitar bits, but it’s not enough to stick. This sets the stage for issues that plague the whole album. There are inspired moments, but few songs that thrill from start to finish. The title track is exceptionally dull, plodding along in a brain-numbing mid-paced slog, and the follow-up “39 Bodies” keeps it going for another painstaking 5 minutes. A few riffs sound like they came from Death’s Spiritual Healing, but that’s not enough to save things. Lead single “Amputate” is like a drunken Jungle Rot trying to do Leprosy-era Death, and it’s a lunkheaded clunker. It’s so painfully dull, actual amputation might be preferable.

There’s not much on Inverted World that truly grabs the listener, but “Test Site” is a thrashy foray into Coroner-esque riffs that twist and corkscrew in interesting ways, and there are interesting hints of Voivod in the song structure. They even add a touch of dissonance to acknowledge the modern age. It’s still only decent, but at least it’s got some spunk. “When Killing Isn’t Murder” has flashes of lively guitar interplay and harmonies, but it’s still underwhelming. At 44 minutes, Inverted World feels longer due to the over-reliance on mid-paced tempos. Production-wise, the guitar tone is way too weak and non-confrontational to have any real impact. It also doesn’t help that Walker’s flat, monotone vocals are mixed so prominently. Especially since he’s barely even doing death vocals at this point.

The modern Cancer sound revolves around riffs, and John Walker and new lead guitarist Robert Navajas are certainly talented six-stringers. There are minor flashes of inspiration dotting the album, but they only latch onto decent riffs on half the songs, creating a paucity of truly killer riffs. The writing is a huge letdown too, with nearly every song limping along in a mid-tempo fog. John Walker was never an A-list death metal vocalist, but he sounds washed out here, entirely lacking in gravitas and intensity. He sounds bored most of the time, which I can certainly relate to by album’s end. It’s drummer Gabriel Valcázar (Wormed) who comes off best here. He’s a punchy dynamo on the backline, providing a thunderous performance. He can only do so much, though, considering the album’s commitment to pedestrian pacing.

Inverted World is better than the nu-groove stuff Cancer was churning out in the mid-90s, but it still doesn’t have much to offer the average death fiend. It’s too flat and static to inspire repeat listens, and its only appeal is to those who may have overly fond memories of Cancer’s early days. Go back to The Sins of Mankind if you bother to drill down into Cancer’s discography at all. This is a sleepy miss.

Rating: 2.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Peaceville
Websites: facebook.com/goryend | instagram.com/cancerofficialband
Releases Worldwide: April 25th, 2025

#20 #2025 #Apr25 #Cancer #Coroner #Death #DeathMetal #Incubus #InvertedWorld #MorbidSaint #PeacevilleRecords #Protector #Review #Reviews #UKMetal

Flummox – Southern Progress Review

By Kenstrosity

Originally slated to be my main Thing You Might Have Missed feature, Tennessee avant-garde metal quintet Flummox’s fifth LP Southern Progress caught me completely off guard. Attracted to the prompt “their most obnoxious album yet,” I wasn’t sure what to expect from my first exposure to Flummox’s work. I figured it might be weird, but it’s also distinctive, fun, and infectious. Fearlessly creative, deeply detailed, lyrically cutting, and stupidly intelligent, Southern Progress rapidly became my favorite record released so far this year. It doesn’t seem likely now that anything out of the metalverse this year will surpass it.

Southern Progress embodies a rhizomic system of inspirations and influences that, when harnessed by Flummox’s wacky brains, emerges from the soil as something wholly unique in style, sound, and intent. My best attempt to contextualize this material would involve names from the progsphere like Fair to Midland, Native Construct, Pink Floyd, early Queen, and Mike Patton; purveyors of the extreme such as Strapping Young Lad and Slugdge; avant-garde touchstones like Mr. Bungle, Igorrr, and Diablo Swing Orchestra; genre-jumpers such as King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard; and even cinematic composers like Danny Elfman and Hans Zimmer.1 Ultimately, though, there is no comfortable comparison. Flummox are a singular entity of weird, wild, theatrical metal capable of nailing every bizarre idea they throw at me, such that in less than a week, I had a majority portion of Southern Progress’ 57-minute runtime pinned to my psyche. All the while, its candid exposition of the queer and genderfluid experience in the Bible Belt (“Southern Progress”) struck a chord so rarely plucked by music on this sphere, and its inspired exploration of the neurodivergent experience as one of its parallel plot lines (“Executive Dysfunction”) gave me an easy avenue to resonate even more deeply with its voice.

The tricky reality of Southern Progress is that 750 words is woefully insufficient to encompass all that Flummox achieves, but its primary triumph is in universal songwriting excellence. Music like this marks a once-in-a-blue-moon occasion—and an ambitious undertaking—but Flummox makes it look effortless as they balance the beauty of melodious, theatrical compositions with the livid, frothing rabidity of searing, off-kilter riffs, thunderous rhythms, and revolutionary attitude (“Southern Progress,” “Femto’s Theme,” “Long Pork,” “Executive Dysfunction”). While these elements are familiar to anyone with experience in the metalverse, their twisted forms instead leave a vivid impression of something altogether more eccentric and uncanny (“Southern Progress,” “Nesting Doll,” “Locust Eater,” “Coyote Gospel”). Well-defined structures and concrete themes play their part in making sure these warped representations stick. Presenting every unhinged idea, cynical line, and explosive outburst inside a digestible package makes Southern Progress somehow even stranger and more enthralling for its deceiving accessibility (“What We’re In For…,” “Always Something Going Down,” “Siren Shock,” “Flumlindalë”).

In spite of its unquestionable adoption of metallic methods, Southern Progress is an intensely theatrical affair unfit for the genrephobic, but is nonetheless something everyone should experience at least once. Challenging in a different way than Imperial Triumphant or other known creators of what certain pundits call “not music,” Flummox is similarly fearless in their exploration of style and technique, and equally meticulous in application and execution. To that end, Southern Progress’ music is mutated and maniacal, but grounded through several root elements: emotional depth, societal awareness, thoughtful critiques, and artistic integrity. More than just a vehicle for that cogent societal commentary, the potent passion that each member of Flummox hemorrhaged into Southern Progress is unmatched by all except the unfuckwithable technical quality of their writing and performances. The fact that this intangible factor boasts such strong presence inside of, and coalesces so harmoniously with, the tangible product proves that Flummox’s dedication, attention to detail, and intentional artistry contributes meaningful substance and significance not just to Southern Progress on its own, but also to the greater body of metal as we know it today.

It is for this reason that Flummox’s Southern Progress isn’t just an excellent album, but also an important one. Aside from its high artistic merit, Southern Progress is a timely and fierce challenge against the dehumanization of queer, gender-nonconforming, and even neurodivergent communities across the American South—and, by extension, the country—especially by organized religious (read: Christian) entities. But it’s also a celebration, a triumphant expression of pride and love and resilience that only comes from openly and unashamedly discovering, struggling with, and ultimately embodying all that you are in spirit, body, and mind. Everyone deserves to know this feeling without fear of stigmatization, fetishization, violence, or isolation. Southern Progress is an unorthodox and fun, but wildly effective, advocate for that cause.

Rating: Excellent!2
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Needlejuice Records
Websites: flummoxed.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/flummoxband
Releases Worldwide: April 11th, 2025

#2025 #45 #AmericanMetal #Apr25 #AvantGarde #BlackMetal #DannyElfman #DeathMetal #DiabloSwingOrchestra #ExperimentalMetal #FairToMidland #Flummox #FolkMetal #Gospel #HansZimmer #Igorrr #ImperialTriumphant #KingGizzardAndTheLizardWizard #MelodicMetal #MikePatton #MrBungle #NativeConstruct #NeedlejuiceRecords #PinkFloyd #ProgressiveMetal #Queen #Review #Reviews #Slugdge #SouthernProgress #StrappingYoungLad

Eluveitie – Ànv Review

By Twelve

Unlike a certain Angry Metal Overlord, I really liked Origins. Up to 2014, I had only a dim awareness of Eluveitie, save that they were a Swiss group that did not believe in keyboards. Origins was my gateway into folk metal, an album I found exciting and refreshing, and Eluveitie’s live show in support of it is still one of my top concert experiences. For over twenty years, Eluveitie has been a force in folk metal. Armed with many instruments and a metal core, they are now on their ninth full-length album, Ànv. What have these giants of the genre cooked up for us this time?

The hallmarks of Eluveitie’s sound are all present on Ànv: melodeath riffs from ye ole aughts, the violins, Chrigel Glanzmann’s shouts, and Fabienne Erni’s cleans—it’s the Eluveitie you love or love to hate, continuing their trajectory from Helvetios through Origins and up to Antegnatos. As ever, the Swiss octet blends traditional Celtic folk, Gaulish themes, and modern metal into their music. “Aeon of the Crescent Moon” and “The Prodigal Ones” are instantly recognizable as Eluveitie, with fast-paced riffing, vocal duels, and Lea-Sophie Fischer’s violin, either keeping pace or layering in emotion. Another familiar hallmark is the use of folky interludes like “Memories of Innocence,” a jig with an eastern feel that gives Glazmann’s mandolin and whistles their moments to shine alongside Fischer’s lively fiddling.

It’s all familiar, and a touch predictable too—Ànv feels safe as Eluveitie albums go. It’s odd to remark that an album performed by an octet playing more than fifteen instruments between them is predictable, but if you’ve followed Eluveitie at all since Evocation, you know what to expect. “Premonition” is standard Eluveitie fare and could have easily fit on Origins. It features In Flames-esque riffs that are more texture than flavor, followed by a brief flute appearance and lively violin over the chorus. “The Harvest” follows a near-identical formula, but executes it more intensely, which makes it a stronger song; this time, one that would be at home on Helvetios. “Ànv” feels like an outtake from Evocation II—Erni’s singing is passionate, but the formless music makes it forgettable. In each case, you know what you’re in for before the song reaches the minute mark.

There are a few genuine surprises on Ànv, but I’m sad to say I dislike most of them. “Taranoías” is a hard-hitting beast of a song right up until the minute mark, when Erni takes over from Glazmann’s furious growls and performs what I keep thinking is the chorus to a different song. “All Is One” similarly sounds like it’s found its way to the wrong album. Here, Eluveitie perform their best Nightwish impression, reaching for emotional highs in a very clichéd fashion. In neither case is the decision bad in isolation, but both are tonally mismatched from the rest of Ànv. What’s particularly frustrating is that in both examples, Erni is the odd musician out, despite being a very strong singer, evidenced particularly by her terrific performance in “Awen.”

But the most surprising part of Ànv is that it doesn’t feel all that much like folk metal, especially when compared to past Eluveitie albums. Often, it feels like modern melodeath with a violin. The flutes and hurdy gurdy are produced so weakly as to slide under the radar in most songs. Much of the folk rests in the three metal-less interlude tracks, none of which feel essential. Instead, songs like “All Is One” suggest an interest in a poppier, more “modern” sound.1 In this sense, there is something akin to a division in Ànv, making for a disjointed listen of good songs (“The Harvest,” “Awen”), forgettable songs (“The Prodigal Ones,” “Aeon of the Crescent Moon”), folk tunes (“Anamcara,” “Memories of Innocence”), and “All Is One.”

I’ve been a fan of Eluveitie for some time—I know that authenticity is important to this band. And don’t get me wrong, Ànv is certainly folk metal and certainly Eluveitie. It is also inconsistent and signifies a direction that I hope Eluveitie are not set on. I’ve loved this band for the way it blends folk and metal music. Unfortunately, that makes it very difficult to feel much love for Ànv.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Nuclear Blast Records
Websites: eluveitie.ch | facebook.com/eluveitie
Releases Worldwide: April 25th, 2025

#25 #2025 #Amaranthe #Amorphis #Ànv #Apr25 #ArchEnemy #Eluveitie #Epica #FolkMetal #InFlames #Nightwish #NuclearBlastRecords #Review #Reviews #SwissMetal

Behölder – In the Temple of the Tyrant Review

By Steel Druhm

When members of various obscure power and prog metal bands like Shadowdance and Chaos Frame managed to recruit Judicator’s John Yelland for an epic doom project heavily inspired by Dungeons & Dragons, Steel was unable to resist hearing the results. So he took a flyer on Behölder and their In the Temple of the Tyrant debut and hoped for good doom things. Would it be utter cheese and need a high-level necromancer to save it? Would it be a rousing, sword-swinging platter or Iron Age heroics? As it turns out, In the Temple of the Tyrant is more like Crypt Sermon mixed with a modest dose of Hammerfall-esque power and seasoned with the muscular machismo of Eternal Champion. Does the sound of that meaty broth get your sword rising? Me too. Let’s fight!

The best way to open an epic doom album is with some hefty epic doom, and Behölder does just that with “A Pale Blood Sky.” It’s very Crypt Sermon / Candlemassive, with big, crunchy doom riffs and slick melodic trills. Yellen’s powerful and enthusiastic delivery rounds out the doom enchilada excellently, taking us on a trip through dark crypts and creepy vistas. It’s the kind of doom I eat up like candied bacon, and I love this tune muchly. It’s powerful, but oh so accessible and entertaining, and shows that these cats know their chosen genre very well. “Eyes of the Deep” is another killer, with a strong Eternal Champion vibe. Tomi Joutsen of Amorphis shows up on the back end to drop immense death roars that take the song to the next level and everything is slick and compelling as fook. “For Those Who Fell” is like the glorious Hammerfall power ballads of old (their first 2 albums) and it sucks you in and keeps you hanging on. “Draconian (Slave or Master)” is a ridiculously hooky cut elevated to glorious heights by Yellan’s epical vocals. You will not forget the chorus, and it will haunt you onto death. This one has Song o’ the Year written all over it, folks.

While the highs on the album are very high, there are a few tracks that can’t scale the same summit. “Dungeon Master” is just okay and overly tongue-in-cheek as it takes the perspective of those master nerd game planners a bit too seriously. It doesn’t vibe well with the huge epic doom flavor of the surrounding tracks and takes you out of that headspace. Closer “I Magus” is also a bit underbaked. It’s plenty riffy with a Sanctuary / Nevermore vibe, but it never gets rolling into high gear. Likewise, “Summoned & Bound” trods on the path to greatness laid out by classic Candlemass, but it never completes the journey, becoming somewhat unsatisfying by the end. No song is completely unworthy, however, and as a cohesive album, this thing is a whole lotta fun from start to finish.

John Yellan is the star of the show here, with his vocals elevating the material several notches. On the best stuff, he takes it to the house, bringing poise and grace to the doom show. He manages to keep his performance restrained and doesn’t overdo things, nor does he rely on high-pitched wailing to emphasize the dramatic bits. He gives the songs just the right amount of power and poise and does a great job throughout. Founder and band mastermind Carlos Alvarez, along with Matt Hodson of Chaos Frame, bring a healthy selection of large doom leads and stirring solos, while dabbling in plenty of traditional and power metal spaces along the way. I like their work best when they stay in the Candlemass / Crypt Sermon vein, but I can’t argue one bit with departures like “Draconian (Slave or Master).”

Behölder have chops across the board, and when their writing comes together, you get great tunes full of nods to genre masters. If the writing was a touch more consistent, this would be my first 4.0 of 2025, but In the Temple of the Tyrant falls a bit short of those lofty heights. Yet there are several songs that could end up as my Song o’ the Year, and that’s saying something about the strength of this googly-eyed floating beast. Roll the dice, hear this, find the moments that thrill your inner warrior. Swords up for Behölder!

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Black Lion
Websites: beholderblacklion.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/beholderdoom
Releases Worldwide: April 25th, 2025

#2025 #35 #AmericanMetal #Apr25 #Behölder #BlackLionRecords #Candlemass #CryptSermon #EpicDoomMetal #EternalChampion #Hammerfall #HeavyMetal #InTheTempleOfTheTyrant #Judicator #Review #Reviews #Sorcerer

Coffin Feeder – Big Trouble Review

By El Cuervo

Sometimes you can judge a book by its cover. The intellectual property rights-busting album artwork of Big Trouble by Coffin Feeder pays tribute to the silliest action movies of the 80s and 90s, just like the music within. This album represents the band’s full-length debut after a pair of EPs that tickled our very own Kenstrosity. Though the core members may be Belgian, the bands through which these guys ordinarily peddle their wares (Aborted, Leng Tch’e) are fused with a steaming smorgasbord of high-profile guest spots (Benighted, Cattle Decapitation, Archspire). The result is an energetic fusion of various cores, from death to grind to hard (also the order of events at Dr. A.N. Grier’s place on a Friday night). How are these sub-genres fused?

Distilling Big Trouble down into its key elements is relatively easy, even if those key elements themselves don’t offer easy listening. It combines the monumental heft of deathcore with the sneering attitude of hardcore and the speedy intensity of grindcore. “Porkchop Express” is prototypical of the album, as it blends a stomping lead that reeks of slam with a faster, tremolo-picked verse, while the vocals unpredictably flip between pig squeals, hardcore shouts, and deathly growls. These songs are extremely extreme, favoring an obnoxiously loud master, boisterous riffs, and relentless energy. It’s a lot, but also – at least on first listen – a lot of fun. It’s difficult to dislike something so active and aggressive, and it’s all too brief to become bored. The cacophony is more of an experience than mere music.

I also admire how Coffin Feeder lean into their own silliness; they represent the diametric opposition to bands that take themselves too seriously. It’s difficult to dispute the “What is best in life?” speech from Conan the Barbarian when layered over beefcake deathcore (“The Destroyer”). But I would also argue that Big Trouble favors style over substance. The sense of humor pastes over an album that’s solid in execution of the fundamentals, but not much better. It feels like the band has used up all their ideas by the back half of the record. The songs become predictable, shuffling between mid-paced/deathlier passages, faster/grindier passages, and slower/breakdown passages. Likewise, most of the riffs sound basically the same. Though the leads are typically entertaining, not many of the tracks really stand out because they follow similar sounds throughout.

Like all good -core music, the breakdowns are often the highlights. When those blast beats are broken down with a slower but groovier lead, heads will bang. In fact, breakdowns are such an easy win in -core music that they feel like a song-writing crutch. Big Trouble accordingly struggles more where there are longer gaps between those fist-pumping moments. “Plain Zero” is a straighter death metal track with a hefty punch, but the relative absence of breakdowns means my attention is less focused. Paradoxically, there are other tracks with poorly deployed breakdowns that disrupt their flow. “Love at First Death” features a pause that becomes a beefy breakdown, but it’s too sudden and changes the tone of the song. Despite solid leads and entertaining grooves, some tracks aren’t particularly cohesive. The music is so frenetic that it can feel disjointed; it’s an amalgamation of ideas but not written into tidy, individual songs.

Coffin Feeder boast some qualities that will undoubtedly appeal to those with a brutal, slamming proclivity. The songs flex with muscular riffs and mighty breakdowns, and the motley vocals go some way to offering a little variety. But Big Trouble (in Little Belgium) ultimately fails to distinguish its individual songs due to repetitive songwriting. Its sheer power can’t overcome a lack of creative spark or ingenuity required to elevate music beyond the average. I feel like there’s more to come from these Belgians.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 4 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps MP3
Label: Listenable Records
Websites: coffinfeederband.com | coffinfeeder.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/coffinfeeder
Releases Worldwide: April 25th, 2025

#25 #2025 #Aborted #Apr25 #Archspire #BelgianMetal #Benighted #BigTrouble #CattleDecapitation #CoffinFeeder #DeathMetal #Deathcore #Grindcore #Hardcore #LengTchE #Review #Reviews

Machine Head – UnatØNed Review

By Dr. A.N. Grier

If you take a step back—maybe a big one—Machine Head’s career is a rollercoaster ride through hell. And not always in a good way. After getting off to a good start and dropping two of their best records, dark clouds began to gather. The Burning Red rain came down on our heads, and the floods of the Supercharger drove torrents of radio-friendly, rap-metal destruction through the streets. Yet, they overcame and rebuilt, marching Through the Ashes of Empires and, “Clenching the Fists of Dissent,” putting The Blackening on “From This Day” forever. Or so we thought. After riding Unto the Locust, they arrived at a village where they purchased Bloodstone & Diamonds. But they were fake bullshit and the band got pissed. So they decided to unleash a Catharsis on diamond sellers everywhere. But they became “Volatile,” “Psychotic” “Bastards.” Plus, their Goodwill “Triple Beam” broke. So, two of their members left to look for wenches and beer while the others pushed on. ØF KingdØM and CrØWn, these two would not give up—even when all hoped they would. They pushed on, feeling their sins should remain UnatØNed, regardless of what anyone thinks. Someone find me a fucking priest!

While this year’s UnatØNed continues the stupid trend set by ØF KingdØM and CrØWn, using o’s with a stroke in their song titles, that previous album was a step up (though not by much) from Catharsis. While Catharsis was a vicious attack on the band’s fanbase, ØF KingdØM and CrØWn proved the band still had new ideas to put on tape. They also somehow convinced the mighty Vogg to contribute to the album’s guitar harmonies and dueling solos. They probably promised him wenches and beer. While the boat has not been set right since The Blackening, there was at least some positivity in the outcome. Without a concept or direction to drive UnatØNed, we are subject to twelve tracks and an hour of music written for Spotify playlists. Outside of the useless opener, the sad boi closer, and the stupid, mid-album instrumental, you can expect the verse-chorus-verse-chorus-dosomethingboring-chorus approach this time around. So, let’s get this over with.

After thirty seconds of pure boredom, “AtØMic RevelatiØNs” finally charges out of the gates in a surprising way. Not only is it one of the heaviest songs the band has penned in the last decade, but it actually got my air guitar going. It also uses a low, clean vocal approach with backing support to build this melodic beauty. Another bruiser that surfaces above the rest is “BØNescraper.” Though it uses those odd oooo’s from ØF KingdØM and CrØWn’s “My Hands Are Empty,” it has a crushing charge that builds up to the chorus nicely—even if said chorus sounds like Fozzy. You’ll also get a chuckle from the classic “Let freedom ring with a shotgun” vocal approach, but this time it’s, “Love is a loaded gun.” The award for most radio-friendly goes to “ØUtsider.” This annoying track is so undeniably catchy that it makes me both loathe and vehemently hate myself for liking it.

Now, let’s get to the part we all knew was coming. “Addicted tØ Pain” has to be one of the most boring tracks the band has released in a long time. It goes absolutely nowhere during its three-minute runtime and uses half-assed Trivium riffs for inspiration. It also contains some of the most cringeworthy lyrics on the album.1 The follow-up track, “Bleeding Me Dry,” is another that lacks any real soul. While the clean vocals swim sweetly through the effects-infused atmosphere, the rest of the song pounds away with outdated, early-2000s chuggery. This song also includes those death growls they’ve been experimenting with that, to this day, still don’t work. Lastly, I don’t even know what the fuck “Shards ØF Shattered Dreams” is trying to do. The chorus is a melodic delight that would shine higher if it wasn’t contemplating suicide as the out-of-place “speed” licks surround it. The worst part is that all these songs exist on the album’s backside, completely draining it of life.

With solid cuts in the front and lazy ones in the back, UnatØNed is an unbalanced mish-mash of singles and filler pieces. I hate to say it, and no one wants to hear it, but UnatØNed would have been a decent EP. Thankfully, this new record is better than Catharsis. I’m not sure I can survive another review like that again. For those who like the newer sound of Machine Head and stand confused as shows when they play “Davidian,” UnatØNed is probably for you. For those of us who walk out thirty seconds into “Crashing Around You,” it’s best to stay clear.

Rating: 2.0/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 256 kb/s mp3
Label: Nuclear Blast Records
Websites: machinehead1.com | facebook.com/machinehead
Releases Worldwide: April 25th, 2025

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