Lástima – A Pain Bloomed from My Lungs Review

By Twelve

I was first made aware of US-based Lástima, as is often the case around here, from a casual perusal in our Promo Pit. After reading way too many promo spiels in one sitting, I came across A Pain Bloomed from My Lungs. The aforementioned band’s blurb was in fact a personal account from a label executive, recounting how he was so blown away by their live performance “in one of the dingiest punk basements [he’s] had the pleasure of skulking in.” His description of a “vicious but hauntingly beautiful post-black assault” won me over, and here I am now, trying to repay the unique promo experience with a review. The story made me want to see Lástima perform in a dingy punk basement—can their debut full-length achieve the same?

With a clean polish and an affinity for harmony, A Pain Bloomed from my Lungs is the opposite of a dingy punk basement in many ways. It’s got all the makings of high-quality metal in the Deafhaven style—it’s got the post-, the -core, and the -gaze blended together through a black metal formula. One thing that will set Lástima apart is Thuy Nguyen, whose omnipresent violin gives A Pain Bloomed from my Lungs a neo-classical feel, even as vocalist Richie DeVon growls, sings, and shrieks his way through the journey. DeVon’s riffs, jointly with Eric Mauro’s, give bassist Hazel Whitman and drummer Sam Hyla much to keep up with, but the album’s pace is another one of its strengths. Another differentiator is Lástima’s influence from Latin culture, present in theme and occasional language choice, as in songs like “Al Cerro Ancón” and “Espantapájaros (1930).” Put together, it’s a strong sound that does not, at first pass, sound much like it is “only” a debut.

The greatest strength of A Pain Blossomed from my Lungs, however, is its affinity for emotional composition and Lástima’s for executing them. The gorgeous violin-guitar duo that kicks off “Al Cerro Ancón,” the clean singing that builds to a climax in “Redux,” and even the brief-but-gorgeous “Hazel Interlude” showcase Lástima’s significant potential. “Sin Sol” is another great example, a song with peaks and valleys from strong black metal, harsh and furious riffs, and quieter, classical moments. The ebb and flow of “Sin Sol” in particular suggests a seasoned approach that is frankly delightful to experience, and so much of it so heartfelt, leaning into the beauty of Nguyen’s violin and the emotional compositions.

So there’s a lot going on in A Pain Blossomed from my Lungs, much of it contradictory, as Lástima leans into juxtaposition to achieve emotional resonance. There are moments, however, where these opposites don’t attract, often because one style works so much better than another. DeVon’s vocals, for example, shift between hardcore shouts, plaintive cleans, and black metal screams. The trouble is, I love DeVon’s cleans more than his screams, and I like his screams much more than his shouts. Similarly, Nguyen’s violins are beautiful, but their constant presence detracts from the heaviest songs, “Lyla” chief among them. There’s a sense that Lástima wants Nguyen to always have something to do, but there are times when there is too much happening. This is especially the case in “Lyla” and “Septiembre,” both of which might have benefited from a more relaxed approach.

I could argue that A Pain Blossomed from my Lungs is an uneven listen, but that would send the wrong idea—it hovers between being good and very good, between pleasant and active listening. I can see how Lástima won over a label from a single live performance—I’ll be keeping an eye out to see if they appear near me. A Pain Blossomed from my Lungs deftly balances styles and emotions. Whether you’re a fan of black metal or more of a -core/-gaze kind of listener, there’s something to check out here… so I recommend you do.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 4,608 kbps WAV
Label: Liminal Dread Productions
Websites: lastimamusic.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/lastimamusic
Releases Worldwide: May 16th, 2025

#2025 #30 #APainBloomedFromMyLungs #AmericanMetal #BlackMetal #Deafhaven #Lástima #LiminalDreadProductions #May25 #PostMetal #Review #Reviews

Weep – The Constant Strain of Life Review

By Cherd

My schooling and professional experience is in the making and teaching of visual fine art, and every once in a while this music reviewing gig reveals close parallels to consider. As I listen to Minneapolis-based one-man blackgaze project Weep and his debut full-length The Constant Strain of Life, I’m reminded of the differences between drawing and painting. Most artists who paint, draw, and vice versa value each medium for different reasons. Painting is a somewhat major production with lots of moving parts. There are layers. If you don’t like a mark, you paint over it, and it becomes part of a nearly invisible self-contained history. Painting builds or obfuscates spatial illusion in a push-and-pull process. Color theory has to be considered. Drawing is much more immediate. It can be detailed and meticulous, but it’s comparatively uncomplicated. There’s the hand, the tool, and the mark on the surface. It’s like seeing someone think out loud. Musical equivalents are like this: progressive death metal is painting. Raw black metal is drawing. Big band jazz is painting, but John Coltrane going on long improvised tangents on his sax is drawing.

The Constant Strain of Life is, in our dichotomy, drawing. Weep’s lone member, Cerastes, runs post-punk and shoegaze through a raw black metal filter but without the raw part. Comparisons can be made to fellow Minnesota bands Ashbringer or Wishfield, but this is a much more stripped-down, straightforward affair. How stripped down? If you had told me this was a demo, I wouldn’t have batted an eye. There are a few points of stylistic variation, like “Coffin Varnish,” which leans into doom tempos and solemnity, while “Desaturated Soul,” commits completely to shoegaze. One gets the idea that Cerastes has listened to a fair bit of screamo, but thankfully that influence on Weep is more residual than overt. The Constant Strain of Life spends the vast majority of its time squarely in that “post-black” space.

Cerastes’ “just the facts, ma’am” style contributes to both the album’s charm and its weaknesses. Production-wise, each instrument sits side by side with the others rather than combines with them. One can almost see every note played floating in space. This works fine on songs like the two that open the album. “Late Autumn” and “Must We Continue” both rely on buoyant indie rock guitar lines played over blackened rhythms to give them an immediate hook. When heft and urgency are needed, however, that space between elements becomes an issue. Take the title track. Once the song kicks into third gear and the chugging guitar riff starts at the 1:30 mark, it’s all too sparse a sound to convey the weight Weep is going for. It doesn’t do enough to raise the intensity, so the breakdown that follows also fails to land. This happens again with “The Sour Scent of Ozone,” as the chugging riff over the programmed drum d-beat comes off as flat-footed rather than energetic. More experimentation with the guitar tone could have potentially helped this. The tone, and indeed the riff, feel too stock-standard.

The issue of seemingly stock riffs emerges elsewhere, from “Late Autumn” to “Coffin Varnish” and “This is the End,” adding to the demo-like quality mentioned above. There are plenty of times listening to The Constant Strain of Life when I wonder why Cerates didn’t just commit to true raw black metal. It wouldn’t fix some of the writing issues, but it would imbue texture and atmosphere that the record could seriously benefit from. The Constant Strain of Life is best when it splits the poles between stark post-punk and black metal. “Must We Continue” is an early highlight and an example of the simple riffs coming off as effortless rather than uninspired. The strongest run starts with the one true shoegaze song “Desaturated Soul” and ends with another post-punk leaning song in album closer “Choosing to Live.” The clean vocals on “Desaturated Soul” are pitch-perfect for the style and I wish Weep would incorporate them more often for contrast and variety.

The Constant Strain of Life may be drawing in our drawing/painting dichotomy, but it alternates between drawing-as-finished-piece and sketchbook entries. Stark, blackened post-punk suits Cerates wonderfully, but more layers and color are needed when Weep reaches for bigger emotional payoffs, or when raging speed is required. There’s some good playlist material here, but as a full-length album, it could use some more time on the easel.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Liminal Dread Productions
Website: weep.bandcamp.com
Releases Worldwide: October 25th, 2024

#25 #2024 #AmericanMetal #Ashbringer #BlackMetal #Blackgaze #LiminalDreadProductions #Oct24 #Review #Reviews #TheConstantStrainOfLife #Weep #Wishfield

Record(s) o’ the Month – August 2024

By Angry Metal Guy

August of 2024 was a pretty good month. First, it marked my return from the Injured Reserve, where I’d been nursing a high ego sprain and nagging executive dysfunction issues. These aren’t perfectly fixed, but being back on the field has shown beyond a doubt that I’m still a force to be reckoned with. Second, August of 2024 was a particularly fecund month for potential Records o’ the Month. This surprised me.

I couldn’t remember August being a particularly productive month historically and as I went back through the archive, that seems sort of true. Between 2012—when the RotM was started—and 2023, the hit rate for August Record(s) o’ the Month landing on my Top 10(ish) list for the year is 73%. Only once has an August record reached the top spot—that would be Pale Communion—with Sophicide hitting #2 in 2012 and Lör’s In Forgotten Sleep getting a #3 spot in 2017. Turisas’ controversial Turisas2013 was a runner-up in August of 2013 and ended up at #5, while the actual winner—Witherscape’s excellent The Inheritance—took the #10 spot on that list. 2020 saw Havukruunu ending up at #7, and Crypta’s Shades of Sorrow took #9 last year. The rest is a sea of -ishes and honorable mentions: Cattle Decapitation (2015), Dialith and Eternal Storm (2019), and Pain of Salvation in 2020.

And in 2024? How many of these babies will follow me to the end of the year? I’ve got an inkling, but I’m curious to see what you think.1

Dawn Treader’s Bloom & Decay—out August 24th from Liminal Dread Productions [Bandcamp]—is one of the biggest surprises of 2024 so far. The ‘one-man black metal project’ is a minefield of absolutely terrible music that I tend to avoid at all costs. Yet the sophomore record from London’s Ross Connell is an album notable for its pathos, rich composition, and artistry. What makes Blood & Decay remarkable is how it draws inspiration from—and comparisons to—revered bands like Agalloch, Alcest, and Panopticon without falling into the common pitfalls. Typically, such comparisons raise concerns about excessive reverb, overly long songs, and toothless riffs. Yet Connell subverts these expectations by creating a dynamic, storytelling experience filled with emotional peaks and valleys, masterfully blending black metal’s rawness with atmospheric beauty. Connell’s addition of his own vocals for the first time elevates the project. His powerful delivery—and powerful use of samples—transforms each song into a vivid emotional journey. As Itchymenace gushed in his review: “Dawn Treader’s Bloom & Decay not only contains amazing songs that celebrate the highs and lows of the human experience, it also sounds great.” A surprisingly easy choice for Record o’ the Month.

Fleshgod Apocalypse // Opera [August 23rd, 2024 | Nuclear Blast Records | Bandcamp] — Fleshgod Apocalypse’s Opera, their first album since 2019’s Veleno, has marked a significant evolution for the band. Drawing from the Opéra Lyrique style, the album features soprano Veronica Bordacchini voicing characters like life, death, and hope, while her vocals have brought fresh dynamics to the band’s symphonic death metal sound. With a more streamlined, melodic approach, Opera leans into catchier, poppier elements without losing its technical edge. Songs like “I Can Never Die” and “Matricide 8.21” highlight this shift, adding emotional depth through Bordacchini’s diverse performances. Though some longtime fans may miss the more grand operatic and technical side—Opera is not King—the album is still a genuine triumph. Opera blends new ideas with the band’s established identity, creating a fresh, cohesive record that accomplishes both a stylistic shift and adds another great record to Fleshgod’s already well-respected oeuvre. As I vigorously exclaimed and defended in the comments, “Opera is simultaneously and undeniably fun, heady, and technically impressive.”

Amiensus // Reclamation Pt. II [August 30th, 2024 | M-Theory Audio | Bandcamp] — Amiensus’s Reclamation Pt. II, the companion to Pt. I released earlier this year, has marked a standout achievement in progressive melodic black metal. The album blends melancholic melodicism, blackened fury, and progressive elements to create a dynamic and cathartic experience. With tracks like “Sólfarið” and “Acquiescence,” Pt. II offers invigorating and emotionally charged compositions, Amiensus skillfully balances moments of atmospheric beauty with powerful black metal. While initially, Reclamation seemed disjointed in places, the album’s intricate songs and layered instrumentation grow with each listen, presenting some of the band’s most versatile material to date. Despite some production issues, the album features elite composition and great songs like “Orb of Vanishing Light.” Reclamation Pt. II stands as Amiensus’s current “magnum opus”—in tandem with its predecessor—and a highlight of the year’s metal releases. As Kenstrosity opined, “Reclamation Pt. II is a more energetic, smartly edited, and exquisitely arranged work that blooms brighter the longer I live with it.” That’s a fancy way of saying that it’s a grower.

#2024 #Amiensus #Aug24 #BlackMetal #Blog #BloomDecay #DawnTreader #DeathMetal #FleshgodApocalypse #LiminalDreadProductions #MTheoryAudio #NuclearBlast #Opera #ReclamationPtII #RecordOfTheMonth #RecordSOTheMonth #RotM #Veleno

Conglaciation – Conglaciation Review

By Dolphin Whisperer

In emergence to the full-length foray now ten years ago, Artificial Brain launched into orbit a novel style of knotted and screeching death metal that brought with it a slingshotting mass of a tangible cosmic horror. And though it’s up for debate whether they’ve yet to best that offering, it’s easy to declare that the Artificial Brain attack is one that has largely remained singular, definitive, and pushing adjacent bands—like cousin Afterbirth—to corners of space not cast from shadow to light. But as a distant sun shines about the gravity of that modern act, time tells us that eventually, some satellite will drift into its orbit. As such, Conglaciation, in earshot of this pioneering sound has found a reveal along this dissonantly-carved path. However, the stars don’t seem to be the destination for this fresh face—its layers feel equally icy as the vast cavern of galactic emptiness but terrestrial all the same.

So what is it that separates this New York-based trio from both that which paved the way and that which is mostly related?1 That would be none other than a love for the beloved Pokémon game series. What? Was that not what you expected? As it turns out primary composer for these tunes Cotter Champlin (SARMAT, Galactic Empire)2 has a passion for both studied and shredding guitar antics as well as the “gotta catch ’em all” grind of battle monsters. And this matters as the tracks of Conglaciation, by osmosis or intention, each lurch forward with a harmony-edging melody against gurgle-burp vocal hypnotism—equal parts Demilich jagged riff-belching against restrained yet virtuosic fusion-colored solos—much in the same way a game’s incidental background tracks will intensify if you stand around and let them.

Where heavy dissonance use often aims to attract via repulsion, Champlin’s sense of long-form and recursive melody functions, instead, as an anchor that gains weight throughout each piece. Certain numbers open with these kinds of creeping and snaking plays (“Asunder,” “Atrementous,” “Congruency”), the pace of which slogs in intentional contrast to frenetic blast beats and percussive grumblings flitter under and through a slowly weaving web. Always upfront in the mix, the frequently shrill and ear-stumping refrains remain more static in primary attack than drifting, allowing additional layers of Champlin’s instrumentation to flourish—terraced bass groans, Holdsworthian scale-bending fretplay, doubled melodic climbs with new accents (“Sublimate” has the largest growth in this regard). Conglaciation sticks to memory much easier than other works of this level of technical acclaim.

Despite Conglaciation’s thoughtful construction, its charm has the appeal of a classical study piece, which conflicts with its true death metal moments in ways that scatter its attack. For an album so absolutely loaded with toothsome and jaw-dropping performances, it feels odd for Conglaciation to drop a seven-minute instrumental piece, “Sketch”,3 smack dab in the middle. Especially after the twisted Neuraxis-force groove that bolts down “Conglaciation” and gnarled, resplendent riffage of “Sublimate,” that choice for a tip-toeing, pizzicato imitating intermission, as creative as it may be, stands tall and in the way amongst its peers. In terms of execution and memorability though, “Sketch” still wins accolades in its over-atmospheric approach. Even Champlin’s solos can land this way in the context of how tight songs could be without them—warm in tone, they rarely soar above the eerie and frozen landscape that surround them.

More étude than banger, Conglaciation opens this project’s career to the ears of the curious and dissecting. Too heady on average for the hammer-throwing hooligan, yet riff-loaded enough to incite some scattered pit riots (“Conglaciation,” “Ameliorate”), it flashes brightly enough all the same to catch those who feel the itch for a unique kind of sonic adventure. Nestled away in the relaxing and technical world of tension-masters like Convulsing and Altars, Conglaciation deserves a moment with its head just above the underground. And as they continue to master the craft of chiseling defined peaks in their work, it will be hard for any progressive death metal lover to look away.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: PCM4
Label: Liminal Dread Productions | Bandcamp
Websites: conglaciation.bandcamp.com | instagram.com/conglaciation
Releases Worldwide: July 19th, 2024

#2024 #30 #Afterbirth #Altars #AmericanMetal #ArtificialBrain #Conglaciation #Convulsing #DeathMetal #Jul24 #LiminalDreadProductions #Neuraxis #Pokémon #ProgressiveDeathMetal #Review #Reviews #SARMAT #TechnicalDeathMetal

Vanessa Funke – Void Review

By Dr. A.N. Grier

I love it when a rando intrigues my old bones and half-deaf ears. Especially after so many years at AMG and so many damn reviews. But even with all my years of metal knowledge and undeniable musical taste,1 even I can be surprised by something that floats to the top of the pit. After seeing nothing of interest for a July 12th release date, I summoned Leviathan to tread the waters and bring forth something that would possess me and give my arthritic hands the strength to write. What that majestic creature brought up to the shore was the third full-length album from Vanessa Funke. This one-person band has been around for some time, releasing albums, singles, and splits, and yet has remained hidden by all those who’ve secured large label deals. But, for better or worse, her promo for Void has made it into the hands of grumpy, ole Grier.

After exploring Vanessa Funke’s previous material, one thing is apparent: Funke is an incredible instrumentalist, from clean and acoustic guitars to distorted ones, piano, and keys. Incorporating folk with melodic death and atmospheric black metal, her songwriting appears to have no limitations. For instance, after combining all these elements in an Alcestian way (including vicious rasps and distant cleans) on the debut record, Solitude, Funke completely changed course for last year’s Dawn. With only two songs in forty minutes, Dawn explores similar territories to October Falls’ brilliant acoustic compilation, Kaarna. Mostly instrumental, Funke shows off some impressive skills on the acoustic guitar and piano to paint a beautiful tapestry of blissful nature. Now, she’s back with perhaps the heaviest and most intricate record she’s ever created.

The back-to-back opening tracks roll into one another to introduce Void. “The First Word” begins with acoustic guitars, piano, and low whispers before the distortion introduces the atmoblack elements. It alternates between calming sections and a chugging riff on the back half before handing the baton to “Broken Ground.” With this track, the album gains steam as the guitar and key solos push this ditty to a climax of distant, overlapping clean/rasping vocals. When we arrive at “Infelicity,” the intensity increases ten-fold as Funke reaches for other influences. After opening with the standard acoustic guitars and soft vocals, the song transitions to a Insomnium-inspired melodeath charge that shows the diversity and power provided by the guitars, drums, and gnarly growls. But this eight-plus-minute track becomes more interesting when we pass through a Dark Tranquillity-like riff and vocal approach before closing with the crushing machine-gun fire of the guitars and drums—making this track the most rounded and pleasing of the bunch.

Other highlights are “Blood on My Hands” and the closer, “Closing the Book.” These two tracks are the black sheep of the album, showing another twist in Vanessa Funke’s approach and making it difficult to tie it to even a couple of genres. “Blood on My Hands” is cool because of its tone, using a muddled distortion for the guitars and vocals. Not to mention the completely unexpected midpoint where you’re hit square in the face with a trumpet lead. Throughout, that nifty distortion remains, giving the song a unique character compared to the rest of the tracks. “Closing the Book” is special because Funke invites the Rinke brothers from Germany’s melodeath outfit, Storm Unleashed. Magnus Rinke lends some clean vocals to pair with Funke’s, while Lukas Rinke contributes some flugelhorn to this beautiful track. Marcus’ part is gorgeous, giving off some While Heaven Wept vibes that work beautifully on a Funke song.

I can hear it already (and have already from other staffers), you don’t like Funke’s distant clean vocals. Get over it. It’s traditional to the style and with hopeful passages like those in “The Funeral” and “Closing the Book,” there are a lot of Alcestisms where it works. That said, the vocals were more dominant in Solitude, which I prefer. Funke’s guitar, bass, drums, and piano skills are impressive, and the stories the instruments tell deserve their limelight. The major downfall of an album with over an hour of material is when song introductions are predictable. Solitude was similar, but it had enough variation when introducing songs that I didn’t notice it so much. Regardless of the song, you’re sure to get clean/acoustic guitars and piano to kick things off, where the real differences between the songs come later. Once you experience Void, you’ll also wish for better dynamics to capture the performances even more. None of these criticisms cripple the album by any means because this band is an underappreciated treasure for those who like moods, impressive guitar work, and albums you can lose yourself in.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: WAV
Label: Liminal Dread Productions
Website: vanessafunke.bandcamp.com
Releases Worldwide: July 12th, 2024

#2024 #35 #Alcest #AtmosphericBlackMetal #DarkTranquillity #FolkMetal #GermanMetal #Insomnium #Jul24 #LiminalDreadProductions #MelodicDeathMetal #OctoberFalls #Review #Reviews #StormUnleashed #VanessaFunke #Vøid #WhileHeavenWept