Stuck in the Filter: September 2025’s Angry Misses

By Kenstrosity

At last, a burst of cool calms the blood after a brutal summer, and the leaves are turning. Which means I was able to recruit a bunch of grubby little leaf-lookers off the highway to serve as minions to my ever-needy Filter! With a temporarily replenished staff of fools who are unwittingly risking their lives for mere nuggets, I conduct with renewed vigor the search for quality finds.

Today, I bring you those finds, in all of their sparkly glory. WITNESS THEM!

Kenstrosity’s Jaunty Juke

Jordsjuk // Naglet til livet [September 19th, 2025 – Indie Recordings]

The lack of conversation I’ve seen surrounding this Norwegian black metal riff machine is highly disconcerting. Brought to my attention by my wonderfully wise—and devilshly handsome—owlpal1 from… GASP… another blog, Jordsjuk’s debut LP Naglet til livet has my spine whipping to a fro from the onset of ripping opener “Kollaps.” The whiplash doesn’t stop there as thrashy numbers “Grovt skadeverk” and “Skreddersøm” body me against several walls and even a couple of ceilings. For 36 relentless minutes, with only one song pushing the four minute mark, Naglet til livet is an unqualified triumph of editing and tight, effective songwriting. My immediate comparison is 2007-2013 Skeletonwitch, but some of these riffs, like the turbobangers on “Parasitt,” “Rottebitt,” “Klarhet og dybde,” and “Rennestein,” give those hallowed skellybois a serious run for their money. When they aren’t thrashing, Jordsjuk shift into a dour, but still ravenous black metal shadow. Wraiths like “Riv skorpen av såret” and “Svikter din neste” showcase this looming character quite well, and prove Jordsjuk to be dynamic, versatile songwriters. In short, Naglet til livet is a raucous good time for anyone craving black metal with sharp teeth and limitless energy.

Baguette’s Bouncy Blessing

Arjen Anthony Lucassen // Songs No One Will Hear [September 12th, 2025 – Inside Out Music]

A year without an Arjen record would be a much lesser one. It’s not often the crazy Dutchman reuses a non-Ayreon project title, but here we have his fourth solo album becoming the second under the full Arjen Anthony Lucassen name! Dropping 13 years after the previous one, Songs No One Will Hear announces the end of the world is a mere five months away, its tracks depicting the resulting stages of chaos, disarray, and human silliness. It doesn’t fall far off the catchy and melodic Arjen tree but casts a wider net than prior prog rock adventures. Much of the record reflects different eras of Ayreon, including the ’70s prog whimsy of Into the Electric Castle (“Dr. Slumber’s Blue Bus”) and the fun ’80s metal edge of The Source (“Goddamn Conspiracy”). Closing epic “Our Final Song” is a microcosm of his musical breadth, shapeshifting from Jethro Tull flute shenanigans to analog synth ambience to dramatic riff bombast at will. But it’s “The Clock Ticks Down” that steals the spotlight, marking a brief return to the dark, somber grit of Guilt Machine and 01011001. It’s an unusually normal-sized album from Mr. Lucassen as well, the regular, unnarrated version being only 46 minutes and change. A condensed, jovial jack-of-all-trades showcase with many of the usual great guest musician and vocalist selections! And it’s always nice to hear him sing more, too.

Thus Spoke’s Lurid Leftovers

Fauna // Ochre and Ash [September 26th, 2025 – Lupus Lounge/Prophecy Productions]

It’s been 13 years since Cascadian black metal duo Fauna released Avifauna, to quiet yet great acclaim. Given their preoccupation with human prehistory, they might just be operating on a larger timescale than you or I. Ochre and Ash—the two main ingredients used in ancient cave paintings—is an attempt to invoke the spirit of forgotten ceremonies during which the stories of the people were immortalised on stone. Building on an atmospheric black metal base familiar in their better-known exemplars Wolves in the Throne Room and Agalloch, Fauna give Ochre and Ash a distinctive edge by roaming further afield into the experimental. For every metal-dominated track (“Nature & Madness,” “Labyrinths,” “Eternal Return”), there is an ambient, decidedly unsettling counterpart (“A Conjuring,” “Femoral Sun,” “Mockery”), and the latter are not interludes, but integral parts of the ritual. Each infuses skin-prickling drone with eerie chimes and rattles, and uncomfortable vocalisations ranging from moans and wails to laughter and the howling, yipping cries of animals—or humans mimicking them. In their repetition of haunting, hollow sounds, they are both frightening and trance-inducing. Ochre and Ash’s metallic segments are no less ominous, treading as they do between confrontationally turbulent atmoblack2 and diSEMBOWELMENT-adjacent death doom that puts me right back in the void of madness last year’s Spectral Voice generated. This is not a casual listen, and Fauna could have helped it a bit with some editing, as the weirdness combined with an excessive 70-minute runtime makes some longer passages feel tired and could be off-putting to some. Still, it’s an experience I’d recommend trying at least once.

Spicie Forrest’s Sautéed Surplus

Piece // Rambler’s Axe [September 5th, 2025 – This Charming Man Records]

Finding gym metal has always proven difficult for me. It’s not about the fastest or loudest, but about striking a balance between weight and pace. Rambler’s Axe fits the bill nicely. Influenced by the likes of Crowbar and High on Fire, these Berlin-based doomsters peddle raucous and sludgy heavy metal. There’s a bit of Conan in Piece’s DNA, too, making sure to worship each riff long enough for you to make it through any given set. Beefy basslines and aggressive, chiseled drums make it easy to drop into a groove and get your pump on. Faster cuts like “Demigod” and “Rambler’s Axe” go great with chest flies and leg press, but they’ve got tracks for bench press and deadlifts too. “Bastard Sword” and “Owl Eyes” rumble forward like the slow but inevitable rise of the barbell at max weight. Whether marching or running, baritone shouts like tank treads hang over riffs just looking for an excuse to blow off steam. Whatever your reason for visiting the glorious house of gains, Piece has your soundtrack covered.

Heruvim // Mercator [September 12th, 2025 – Self-Release]

As each passing year leaves the almighty Bolt Thrower further in the past, the yearning for that sound grows. I was quite surprised to find a small amount of solace in Heruvim, hailing from Odesa, Ukraine. I say small solace, because debut LP Mercator is more than just a clone. Augmented with the unsettling atmosphere of early Pestilence and the vocal malevolence of Sinister, this platter of old school death metal carves its own niche in a storied scene. Off-kilter leads bubble up and spew out of a murky, tarred rhythm section like prehistoric gases in a primordial soup (“Gnosis,” “Lacrimae Rerum”). Lachrymose, doom-laden passages and violent death threats trade back and forth, anchored by volatile blast beats and percussive assaults in the vein of Cannibal Corpse (“Nulla Res,” “Mercator”). Stitched together with eerie, short-and-sweet interludes, Mercator’s lean 30 minutes fly by and always leave me itching for more. Heruvim riffs on a slew of classic sounds, creating a casual brutality and primal barbarism that is both compelling and uniquely their own.

ClarkKent’s Melodic Monstrosities

Galundo Tenvulance // Insomnis Somnia [September 17th, 2025 – Spiritual Beast Records]

Falling somewhere between symphonic deathcore acts Assemble the Chariots and Grimnis enters Japan’s Galundo Tenvulance. On their second full-length LP, Insomnis Somnia, the sextet demonstrates raw power and frenetic energy throughout its 41-minute runtime. Songs are anchored by catchy melodic leads, atmospheric symphonies, and punishing, relentless kitwork (no drummer is credited, so hopefully it’s not programmed). Galundo Tenvulance’s new vocalist, Sao, delivers the goods, bringing a spirited energy to her performance that elevates the already terrific material. While the symphonics don’t quite elevate the music the same way they do for Assemble the Chariots, it’s the melodic riffs that make these guys stand out. “Noble Rot” is the highlight, with a killer lead riff that uses harmonics to add just that extra bit of oomph. Other highlights include the catchy “Regret Never Sleeps,” evoking Character-era Dark Tranquillity, and “In The Realms of the Unreal,” which demonstrates their ability to transform solos into surprising melodies. This might be too good to have landed in the filter, but with my TYMHM slots filled up, it’s better than nothing.

Mortal Scepter // Ethereal Dominance [September 9th, 2025 – Xtreem Music]

As if we didn’t have enough thrash floating in the filter, French outfit Mortal Scepter finds itself as yet another piece of thrash dredged from the muck. This quartet has been around since 2012, yet Ethereal Dominance is only their second full-length release. Their sound lands somewhere between the melodic thrash of Bloodletter and the mania of Deathhammer—though a touch less zany. The persistent level of energy these bands can maintain never ceases to amaze me. While the constant beat of drum blasts threatens to make thrash songs sound too similar, the variety of melodies Mortal Scepter delivers ensures that things never grow repetitive. They have a raw, blackened sound that feels immediate and in your face. Drummer Guillaume keeps an impressive pace with fresh-sounding, nonstop blast beats, while vocalist Lucas Scellier snarls with enthusiasm, with a voice comparable to Deathhammer’s Sergeant Salsten. However, it’s the guitars by Maxime and Scellier that really bring the band to life, from the noodly melodies to the dynamic, lengthy, and impressive solos on each song. These guys prove they are more than just simple thrash metallers on the epic thrash, ten-minute finale, “Into the Wolves Den,” which uses a mix of tempo shifts and hooky melodies to make the song just fly by. With this second LP under their belts, these guys have proven themselves an exciting newish band on the thrash scene.

Grin Reaper’s Woodland Windfall

Autrest // Burning Embers, Forgotten Wolves [September 5th, 2025 – Northern Silence Productions]

Burning Embers, Forgotten Wolves merges atmospheric black metal with nature, resuming Autrest’s vision from debut Follow the Cold Path. Like Saor or Falls of Rauros, stunning melodies play across untamed backdrops that stir heartstrings in unexpected ways. Ethereal keys, mournful strings, and rapid-fire tremolos impeccably capture Burning Embers, Forgotten Wolves’ autumnal artwork, bringing Autrest’s imagery to life. Harsh vocals sit back in the mix, evoking windswept trees as cool harvest gusts leach branches of color, while sporadic baritone cleans add variation. “Lobos (Offering)” sets the stage with melancholic guitar plucks bolstered by forlorn strings, giving way to a controlled spark as “Ashes from the Burning Embers” ratchets up roiling vigor. Through forty-two minutes, Autrest expertly guides listeners across shifting landscapes that are delightful in their earnestness. Mastermind Matheus Vidor establishes himself as a preeminent architect of mood, channeling transitions from gentle, wonder-filled serenity to unyielding wrath. The dynamic between aggression and introspection is marvelous, permeating the album with emotion. While I could understand a complaint that some songs blur together, the spirit of Burning Embers, Forgotten Wolves is never stale or disposable. Rather, Autrest has taken what began two years ago and enriched it, composing an ode to self-discovery and transformation.3 My own experience with the music conjures wilderness’s last hurrah before succumbing to winter’s embrace. As days grow shorter and temperatures drop,4 I encourage you to seek refuge and draw warmth from these Burning Embers.

Dolphin Whisperer’s Very Not Late Novella

Sterveling // Sterveling [September 26th, 2025 – Self Release]

Between the world of atmospheric and post-tinged black metal, there exists a twisted form of progressive music that teeters about brooding moods and crackling tones to explore shrieking sadness and profound sorrow. Michiel van der Werff (Prospectors, Weltschmerz), primary Dutch proprietor of Sterveling, places his expressive guitar runs and lurching rhythm clangs in the company of trusted friends to carry out his tortured, baroque vision of black metal. Against the hissing design of synth maestro and Prospectors bandmate Matthias Ruijgrok, a fullness and warping warmth pervades the spacious amp textures and muscular rhythmic framework of each piece. And through the bloodied cries of Weltschmerz bandmate Hreim, a vocal lightning flashes to illuminate the nooks between pulsing synth lines and deathly bursts of full tremolo assault. In three longform pieces, all still totaling a generous forty-two minutes, Sterveling tints a monochrome narrative with vibrant shades from thoughtful tones and well-timed, emotional escalations. Committed to each careful iteration on a melody, the woven Sterveling web grows ever stickier with every passing moment, none of the ten-minute-plus excursions ever feeling even close to their declared runtimes. And with a sound construction that hits delicate yet forceful, creaking yet incising, it’s easy to wander through several journeys on this debut outing before realizing what time has passed. Fans of equally forlorn acts like Tongues or Andalvald will feel more at home here than others. But with a tonal palette that’s as inviting as it is crushing, Sterveling should attract the ears of fans across the extreme spectrum.

#2025 #agalloch #americanMetal #andavald #arjenAnthonyLucassen #assembleTheChariots #atmosphericBlackMetal #autrest #ayreon #blackMetal #bloodletter #boltThrower #brazillianMetal #burningEmbersForgottenWolves #cannibalCorpse #conan #crowbar #darkTranquillity #deathDoom #deathMetal #deathcore #deathhammer #disembowelment #doomMetal #dutchMetal #etherealDominance #fallsOfRauros #fauna #frenchMetal #galundoTenvulance #grimnis #guiltMachine #heruvim #highOnFire #independentRelease #indieRecordings #insideoutMusic #insomnisSomnia #japaneseMetal #jethroTull #jordsjuk #lupusLounge #melodicBlackMetal #melodicDeathMetal #melodicThrashMetal #mercator #mortalScepter #nagletTilLivet #northernSilenceProductions #norwegianMetal #ochreAndAsh #pestilence #piece #postBlackMetal #progressiveBlackMetal #progressiveMetal #progressiveRock #prophecyProductions #ramblersAxe #review #reviews #saor #selfRelease #selfReleased #sep25 #sinister #skeletonwitch #sludge #sludgeMetal #songsNoOneWillHear #spectralVoice #sterveling #stuckInTheFilter #stuckInTheFilter2025 #symphonicDeathcore #thisCharmingManRecords #thrashMetal #tongues #ukrainianMetal #wolvesInTheThroneRoom

Mrs. Frighthouse – Solitude Over Control Review

By Dear Hollow

How much noise is too much? I used to believe you could never have too much noise, with bands like Theatruum and La Torture des Ténèbres weaponizing it for respectively vicious and otherworldly approaches. Then bands like Ulveblod and the infamous Ordeal & Triumph collaboration happened – and I lost my naivety. Ultimately, as we will see with duo Mrs. Frighthouse, diving into the noise genre offers a low ceiling and an equally low floor. Some of the worst music I’ve reviewed has had the “noise” tag attached to it, while some of the most okayest music I’ve reviewed also has noise attached to it – previously mentioned acts being controversial exceptions. It’s either the worst thing you’ve heard or okay. Mrs. Frighthouse is a light, er, fright in a sea of noise – for better or worse.

Glasgow-based Mrs. Frighthouse consists of wife and wife duo Carys and Luna Frighthouse, known as Mrs. and Mrs. on stage. Featuring an unflinching lyrical attack on misogyny, homophobia, and transphobia, and a musical approach as venomous, it recalls the likes of early Lingua Ignota, Couch Slut, and Julie Christmas. What hooked me was its mastering by Khanate bassist James Plotkin – anything that reminds of the menacing crawl that the drone legends conjure was a perk. However, like any noise album that focuses on ugliness and discordance, the audience is limited, the replay value is near null, and its strengths are a novelty in many ways. Featuring manic vocals both harsh and operatic to contrast with the suffocating noise, Mrs. Frighthouse wins points for charisma, but Solitude Over Control is still very much a noise album.

To my relief, Mrs. Frighthouse utilizes opaqueness and density to its benefit, avoiding the painful awkwardness of Läjä Äijälä & Albert Witchfinder’s trainwreck of a collaboration. Plotkin’s services are put to good use, as the backbone of sound is suffocating and all-encompassing in a way that recalls drone’s colossal density, an expanse of ominous tones upon which Mrs. and Mrs. traverse with their vocal journeys. Throw in some haunting ritualistic drumming patterns and minor organ trills, Mrs. Frighthouse crafts horrific soundscapes using an expert blend of clarity, melody, and discordance to match their surprisingly dynamic foray into noise. This is no Oscillotron – Mrs. Frighthouse knows how to write songs. While at first glance the sea of noise is a constant hum, those willing to delve beneath the surface will find smart songwriting aplenty.

The contrast between clarity and density is a clear priority in Solitude Over Control – which ends up being its most controversial element. From the aggressive industrial pulse paired with thick waves of noise easy to get lost in (“DIY Exorcism,” “White Plaster Rooms”) to more subtle crawling pieces with screeching soprano trills that feel strangely confrontational (“Seagulls” part 1 and 2, “Let My Spit Be Poison”), while creeping melodic motifs are warped and bastardized by the static (“Our Culture Without Autonomy,” “My Body is a Crime Scene”), Mrs. Frighthouse is a tour-de-force of metallic aggression without a riff in sight. Solitude Over Control wears its themes on its sleeves in sometimes awkward forthrightness, as both Mrs.’s spew vitriol over the misogyny, homophobia, and transphobia witnessed and experienced, matching the aggression and viciousness of the music. The closing title track is worthy of mention, because its slow-burning crescendo is a maddening and horrifying end to a maddening and horrifying album – a nerve-frying culmination of Mrs. Frighthouse’s best and worst.

Almost everything about Solitude Over Control feels intentional, but holy shit, is it unflinching and uncomfortable. Mrs. Frighthouse’s two vocals are insanely charismatic in their blend of shrieks, growls, operatic belts, whispers, and shouts, propelling the movement of the noise as it emerges and disappears in the sea of noise. Plotkin’s mastering adds a suffocating and claustrophobic quality that adds to the menace and aggression. Some tracks you’ll find yourself getting lost in the swaths of noise and industrial harshness, others you’ll find yourself blushing in the awkward stark clarity of the vocals. Mrs. Frighthouse offers a better noise album than most and is closer to the ceiling, but due to the divisiveness of the style and the starkness of some of the minimalist pieces, the reception will be mixed. Noise fans rejoice, all others steer clear.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: PCM
Label: Self-Release
Websites: mrsfrighthouse.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/mrsfrighthouse
Releases Worldwide: September 26th, 2025

#25 #2025 #CouchSlut #Drone #Industrial #JulieChristmas #Khanate #LaTortureDesTénèbres #LäjäÄijäläAlbertWitchfinder #LinguaIgnota #MrsFrighthouse #Noise #Oscillotron #Review #Reviews #ScottishMetal #SelfRelease #Sep25 #SolitudeOverControl #Theatruum #Ulveblod

Blizaro – Light and Desolation Review

By Baguette of Bodom

What do you get when you combine old school doom with older school horror movie soundtracks? John Gallo of Orodruin asked this question roughly twenty years ago, and the answer became known as Blizaro. Despite the years of experience accumulated, the discography of this mostly solo project is quite brief;1 Light and Desolation is only Blizaro‘s third full-length. Time, ever the unfair mistress, treats everyone quite differently. Some artists have a lot to re-learn,2 others are able to pick up right where they left off.3 With nine years having passed since their previous album, how has the hourglass treated the intriguing and slightly bizarre concept of Blizaro?

It becomes immediately apparent that Blizaro takes heavy influence from the ‘70s and ‘80s. After a short melodramatic intro sets the stage, the Candlemassive and Troublesome hammer of doom descends. John Gallo’s wonderful guitar tone and playing style echo as much old Sabbath and ‘70s Judas Priest (“Internal Chasm”) as it does traditional doom, and the part-NWoBHM lead guitars (“Glare of Light and Desolation”) bring light and energy into the formula. The gloomy but heavy sound is complemented by Gallo’s eerie and dramatic vocals. His Ozzy-coded, blue-collar delivery fits the mold well, and good usage of layers adds extra oomph to an already good performance. But Light and Desolation isn’t just about the metal world. Horror-themed suspense and Tangerine Dream-touched synthesizers (“Sentenced Pathways”) color much of the album’s material both on the foreground and in the background. These individual elements already sound good on their lonesome but create spectacular hooks and crescendos when working in unison (“Silver Tower,” “Lightning Strikes Back”).

Crucially, Blizaro’s songwriting is both authentic and fresh, combining many old inspirations into newer ideas. Imitation is flattery, but it can only take you so far without understanding how your influences formed their sound in the first place. And throughout Light and Desolation, Gallo showcases a wealth of knowledge in not only his influences but also their various heroes and followers. Whether it’s the Iron Maiden pyrotechnics at the start of “Internal Chasm” or the ‘70s prog rock bounce of “Lucifer’s Lament,” Light and Desolation keeps throwing new curveballs to switch up its songwriting mojo. Not all of it is created equal, as some of the transitions in the aforementioned feel jarring, but most of the resulting breadth ends up a net positive. This wouldn’t be half the album it is without its cinematic atmosphere tying it all together. Sword-swinging closer “Warriors of the New Lands” is a culmination of Blizaro’s heavy metal, horror atmosphere, and space synth tendencies alike. It’s not just a throwback sound—it’s a unique blend of them.

On top of Light and Desolation being written like a lost relic, it also sounds the part. The mix allows all instruments room to shine and breathe, the crashing of cymbals in particular being a pleasure to listen to. The fuzzy production makes for a surprisingly warm album despite its cold and desolate demeanor, proving once again that heaviness does not require overcompression.4 Some of it might even sound a bit too ancient for my tastes, and it certainly took some getting used to. The vocals aren’t perfect either, occasionally stumbling during the latter half of the album. But what Blizaro sometimes lacks in consistency, they make up for in pure character and charisma. I’ve had trouble getting “Lightning Strikes Back” out of my head ever since first hearing the song, and it’s far from the only memorable moment here.

Light and Desolation is another strong success in a recent streak of distantly similar but ultimately unrelated nods to the old school. Blizaro continues putting their own spin on classic heavy and doom metal with elements of Italian horror ambience and olde prog synths from outer space. Aside from some minor vocal and songwriting slip-ups, it’s a majorly fun and replayable package with many layers to uncover. John Gallo’s busy schedule makes his writing speed tend towards the George R.R. Martin end of things, but the wait was well worth it. Here’s hoping there are more chapters of this—or even stronger—quality in the book of Blizaro yet to come!

Rating: Very Good
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s CBR MP3
Label: Nameless Grave Records
Website: Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: September 26th, 2025

#2025 #35 #AmericanMetal #BlackSabbath #Blizaro #Candlemass #DoomMetal #HeavyMetal #IronMaiden #JudasPriest #LightAndDesolation #NamelessGraveRecords #Orodruin #ProgressiveRock #Review #Reviews #Sep25 #TangerineDream #Trouble

Exelerate – Hell for the Helpless Review

By Grin Reaper

After dropping their self-titled debut in 2023, Exelerate returns with their patented twist of power thrash to unleash Hell for the Helpless. This cross-genre hybrid takes the speed and wiolence of thrash and marries it with the upbeat and anthemic buoyancy of power metal. Megadeth and Dio are listed as primary influences, but I hear more recent Flotsam & Jetsam, Unleash the Archers and Iced Earth. Exelerate skewed heavily toward thrash on their debut, but they tone down the aggression to embrace power metal swagger on Hell for the Helpless. While they continue to flex technical chops and guitar wizardry, the speed and flamboyance of Exelerate take a back seat this go round. Perhaps this is to put a finer point on their new album’s concept, which is billed as an exploration of adverse mental states and the capacity to overcome through healing and understanding. It’s a noble position, and one I believe could connect with listeners, but does the reformulation help Hell for the Helpless cross the finish line, or do they take the foot off the Exelerater and run out of gas?

Generally speaking, concept albums are comprised of an interconnectedness between songs that transcends face value. At the risk of gravely oversimplifying, there are two flavors—narrative and thematic concepts. Hell for the Helpless bears the flag of the latter. Exelerate brings musical congruity, as there are self-referential moments like when the mournful guitar melody from “The Breach” creeps back in toward the end of “The Summoning.” While I admire the cleverly interwoven motifs, it’s not enough to earn the ‘concept’ moniker. The best concept albums merge narrative and thematic cohesion in ways that are immediately accessible yet profoundly tethered, and there’s more Exelerate could have done to distill their message. Adding a story or featuring guest vocalists to represent different mental maladies could have accentuated the nuances of the themes explored. Instead, Hell for the Helpless feels a touch light on conceptual gravity.

Still, Exelerate finds plenty of moments to dazzle with their musicianship, excelling when it comes to hooky guitar licks and throat-searing falsettos. Guitarist Mads Sorensen and guitarist/vocalist Stefan Jensen set fretboards aflame across Hell for the Helpless, slinging neoclassical solos (“The Summoning”) and dispensing frenetic bursts of arpeggiated runs (“A Painful Debt”). There’s nary a track that isn’t sticky with ear candy, and even when the pace slows down (“Falling in Lust”), Sorensen and Jensen make those bad axes wail. Speaking of wailing, Jensen doesn’t hold back during his vocal onslaught. Living somewhere between Queensrÿche’s Geoff Tate and Flotsam & Jetsam’s Eric Knutson, Jensen most frequently occupies power metal’s comfort zone of high-pitched histrionics. At the top end of his register, he bears a passing resemblance to Unleash the Archers’ Brittney Slayes (“Stranger out of Time”). Jensen also dips into growls (“Impending Doom”), adding welcome variation in the back half. The rhythm section earns their keep as well—bassist Io Sklarstrup rumbles along and drummer Stig Eilsøe-Madsen drives the momentum throughout. There aren’t many showy moments for them, but the duo skillfully supports the foundation of Hell for the Helpless.

Despite the slick musicianship and luster of a deft production, Hell for the Helpless falters when evaluated as a whole. Power metal is no stranger to bloat, and the fifty-three-minute runtime is too long for what Exelerate deals out. Six of the ten tracks clear the five-minute mark, but they lack the riff diversity and substance to sustain those lengths. A minute could be trimmed from most tracks and engender a tighter, more focused album, rather than songs seeming like butter scraped over too much bread. Regardless of this and the concept execution stumble, Hell for the Helpless is a success. The mix gives all contributors space to be heard and appreciated, and the guitar tone is perfect for power thrash.

Exelerate’s latest revs my engine, goosing the throttle in lots of right ways. Addictive guitars, supercharged melodies, and singalong choruses deserve at least one spin, although repeated listens will remain a hurdle for some. I quite enjoyed my many listens and think Hell for the Helpless is a bundle of fun. Refining their approach will turbo boost what comes next for Exelerate and I’ll patrol for future releases from these Danes with my fingers crossed that we get the high-octane thrill ride they’re capable of driving.

Rating: Good
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: From the Vaults
Websites: exelerate.bandcamp.com | exelerate.dk | facebook.com/Exelerateband
Releases Worldwide: September 12th, 2025

#2025 #30 #Dio #DutchMetal #Exelerate #FlotsamJetsam #FromTheVaults #HellForTheHelpless #IcedEarth #Megadeth #PowerMetal #PowerThrash #Queensryche #Review #Reviews #Sep25 #ThrashMetal #UnleashTheArchers

Ravager – From Us with Hate Review

By Lavender Larcenist

What can one reasonably say that hasn’t already been proclaimed in the halls of AMG over and over again about throwback thrash bands? In a genre that continues to pump out music for over forty years, breaking the mold is like chiseling out of your prison cell with a spoon. Doable? Maybe. But true escape is improbable. Germany’s Ravager peddles in the same stylistic trappings that you have seen a million times before from bands like Havok, Lich King, Warbringer, Gamma Bomb, and so, so many others before them. While many of these throwback acts ended up evolving their sounds and peeling themselves free of the mozzarella mosh of pizza thrash, will Ravager do the same on their fourth LP, From Us with Hate? Or, is it doomed to rest alongside the proverbial pineapple topping, as loathed as it is loved?

How does one even begin to talk about a band like Ravager without reaching for the same old cliches? You have heard all this music before; nothing here will surprise you, especially if you enjoy fast-paced, no-frills thrash with mostly generic lyrics about fighting the system, living hard, and loving metal. During my review, I decided to spin From Us with Hate while playing some rounds of Helldivers 2 (the title of a popular co-op video game for you olde folks). Ravager’s style of no-holds-barred violence, combined with its oddly uplifting lyrical themes, made it a perfect match for the on-screen chaos. But really, this would work for almost any high-octane experience; driving fast, working out, sitting on your ass shooting aliens in a video game, you name it. I couldn’t help but crack a smile as the cheesy yet earnest lyrics of “Alone We Won’t Survive” matched up perfectly with the actions in the game, as I rescued a hapless rookie player from the jaws of death. The best thing I can say is From Us with Hate makes for a decent soundtrack when mowing down alien bugs in a sci-fi fascist hellscape.

Ravager plays to all the thrash tropes. The opening track, “Freaks Out of Control,” starts like many genre staples before it: a slow kick drum lead with a little high hat that rolls into a rollicking riff. In fairness, each band member fills their respective role well, and Marcel Lehr and Dario Rosenberg’s dual guitar assault is a highlight. From Us With Hate is full of tight riffs and ripping speed. “Aggressive Music for Aggressive People,” the title track, and “Legends of the Lightning” are all fun, easy-to-digest thrash staples that get the blood going even if they don’t break the mold. Vocalist Phillip Herbst sounds dangerously close to Lich King’s Tom Martin, and it seems like he might crack at any given time. The vocals sound strained throughout, and rarely change things up outside of a few inspired moments and catchy choruses, such as on “Curse the Living, Hail the Dead” and “Defender.” While Ravager plays with that “barely keeping this thing on the tracks” energy that epitomizes great thrash, it misses elsewhere. It is clear they have more than enough heart, but the songwriting doesn’t quite match it.

Thankfully, the band’s latest is competently played and features tight production (although the bass is occasionally lost in frustrating ways). Album closer “Defender” is stuffed with tight riffing from Lehr and Rosenberg as well as some standout lead work and multiple blistering tag-team solos from the guitar duo. Herbst never breaks the mold, but competently trucks alongside the bouncing groove of the tracks. Vocals remain the weakest element overall, and the album’s closing cover of Exodus’s “Bonded by Blood” highlights this with Herbst’s voice sounding as if it is going to crack at any point in the song, especially in the chorus.

I appreciate a band that knows their whole schtick is a little silly without making themselves the butt of the joke. Every Ravager album cover is adorned with its goofy snake man, as buff as post-crisis Batman, and clad in ripped jeans and sneakers, but the music itself never becomes too silly. From Us With Hate is the record you’ve heard many times before, and tolerance may vary as a result. If you love throwback thrash bands and eat up anything in the genre, Ravager will keep you sated like a familiar piece of pepperoni pizza at your local shop. If, like me, you are over this style of played-out retro worship, From Us with Hate is just empty calories.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Iron Shield Records
Websites: ravager.bandcamp.com | ravager-thrash.de | facebook.com/ravagerthrash
Releases Worldwide: September 19th, 2025

#25 #2025 #GammaBomb #GermanMetal #Havok #IronShieldRecords #LichKing #Ravager #Review #Reviews #romUsWithHateReview #Sep25 #ThrashMetal #Warbringer

Harvest — For the Souls We Have Lost Review

By Steel Druhm

Written By: NamelessN00b_606

Since nostalgia drives the creation and consumption of so much contemporary metal, metalheads might be interested in its etymology. A borrowing from post-classical Latin that combines the ancient Greek νόστος (‘return home’) and ‑αλγία (‘pain’), ‘nostalgia’ meant something like a pathologized homesickness when it came into English usage in the eighteenth century.1 So if you’re nostalgic for, say, the gothic doom metal of the 1990s, then 90s gothic doom is your musical home, your longing for this home rises to the level of a physical ailment, and Harvest may have the cure. A new Italian quintet, Harvest describes itself as an earnest tribute to bands like My Dying Bride, Paradise Lost, and Katatonia. As with any album overtly tapping into the past, the hope is that For the Souls We Have Lost, Harvest’s debut, administers a ‘stalg salve with its own unique fragrance.

For the Souls We Have Lost succeeds at sounding like its inspirations. At the core of Harvest are barebones, Sabbathian riffs, reminiscent of the way My Dying Bride practices Sabbath revival on an album like The Angel and the Dark River. Vocally, Emanuele resembles Aaron Stainthorpe in both his clean and extreme registers. Emanuele and guitarist Fabio Torresan offer simple yet effective interplays between gothy croons, Iommian phrases, and macabre growls, especially on “Floating Leaves.” But no doom with gothic aspirations can do without gloomy atmosphere. In addition to supplying a second guitar, Matteo Gandolfi plays keyboards, adding texture via synthetic strings (“Floating Leaves”), choirs (“Born Alone”), and horns (“Shining Moon”). These elements nicely fill out the refreshingly open production of For the Souls We Have Lost, especially on closer “The Path of Life.” Harvest have crafted a debut that will transport listeners to a graveyard poetry reading in 1997, with Paradise Lost’s Gothic and Katatonia’s Brave Murder Day providing the soundtrack.

Doom is an inherently direct subgenre, but simplicity often holds For the Souls We Have Lost back. The main riffs in both “Hunter of Souls” and “Shining Moon” are a bit too straightforward; they would have benefited from some variation. On the songwriting front, most of these songs include a clean or acoustic guitar break in the middle (“Floating Leaves,” “Hunter of Souls,” “Shining Moon”). This is a common way to approach a bridge in doom, but it becomes a predictable pattern here. These sections also raise another issue: the dryness of the non-distorted guitar tones. Opener “Born Alone,” for example, begins with a two-chord progression played by a clean guitar lacking character. The song eventually kicks into heavy gear, but when it returns to its dry-clean progression in the middle, the song ends up feeling like a buildup without a payoff.

The vocals do occasionally elevate these songs, though they present their own challenges. On the clean side, Emanuele favors a mid-range croon that results in some memorable hooks (“Floating Leaves,” “Hunter of Souls”). At other points, however, the cleans don’t hit the ear in the best way. The verse to “In Shape of Beast” includes melodic jumps that are kind of catchy but that don’t mesh with the supporting music. Similarly, “Shining Moon” ends with a cappella vocals that waver when they should be commanding attention. On one song, the cleans sound like the work of a different vocalist. “Born Alone” drops a droning monotone atop its simple chord progression, which doesn’t do much to develop the melody.2 Whereas the rest of the album has those satisfying, Stainthropean swings in inflection, “Born Alone” sets a flat—and retrospectively confusing—tone as the opener.

If 90s gothic doom is your home, then you probably won’t need to consult your doctor before taking For the Souls We Have Lost. Such listeners will find comfort across the album’s reasonable 37-minute runtime, particularly from “Floating Leaves” and “The Path of Life.” If, however, the subgenre is more like the Victorian house of an esoteric neighbor, then For the Souls We Have Lost probably won’t do much for you. The retro production won’t read as charmingly nostalgic, and the inconsistencies will prevent full immersion. Harvest have done a good job conjuring the matter and spirit of their influences; hopefully, their follow-up will play off their strengths to develop a unique identity.

Rating: 2.0/5.0
DR: 11 | Format Reviewed: V0 mp3
Label: Octopus Rising Records (sub-label of Argonauta Records)
Websites: harvest-doom.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/harvestdoom
Releases Worldwide: September 26th, 2025

#20 #2025 #BlackSabbath #DeathDoom #DoomMetal #ForTheSoulsWeHaveLost #Harvest #ItalianMetal #Katatonia #MyDyingBride #OctopusRisingRecordsArgonautaRecords #ParadiseLost #Review #Reviews #Sep25

Gjendød – Svekkelse Review

By Grin Reaper

In a genre defined by trem-picking, unbridled shrieks, and lo-fi, treble-heavy production, Gjendød challenges a paradigm long synonymous with black metal—no bass, no problem. Though unabashedly black metal, Gjendød offers an alternative to typical second-wave stylings while still being recognizably influenced by them. Svekkelse is Gjendød’s sixth LP since founding duo K and KK joined forces in 2015. After releasing I Utakt med Verden in 2022, the Trondheim, Norway twosome enlisted drummer TK1 and Gjendød signed with Osmose Productions. These developments gave listeners 2024’s Livskramper and now Svekkelse. Both albums buck some of the musical stereotypes rife within the genre, yet it takes more than subverting expectations to write an estimable record. Is Gjendød up to the task?

The elements of Gjendød’s sound have been around since the band’s inception, with melodic leads and prominent bass strewn throughout their discography. But things didn’t crystallize until Livskramper, where Gjendød upped their commitment to melody, and the production took a step forward. Svekkelse continues the work Livskramper began. Bassist and vocalist KK’s gargles flirt with early Satyricon, which compounds with the bass-laden mix recalling The Shadowthrone. Musically, Gorgoroth’s Antichrist provides another point of comparison, although KK’s vocals won’t be mistaken for Hat’s croaks. Either way, those illustrious parallels give a suggestion of what to expect, though don’t go into Svekkelse anticipating a reproduction of either. What Gjendød has assembled is a vision all their own.

With dynamic guitar leads, sultry bass grooves, and proficient stickwork, Gjendød has no room for slouches. Every time I spin Svekkelse, it’s all about that bass. It’s so present in the mix that it’s impossible not to be entranced. Though bass is present throughout the album, opener “Likens bortgang” sets strong expectations. And when the pace slows in “En staur i hjertet,” the bass ambles out the gates to carry the melody with trem-picked chords underpinning blackened rasps. It would all be for naught if the bass-playing wasn’t accomplished enough to merit the spotlight. In this regard, KK does not disappoint, as bass lines slink with groovy, understated elegance. Gjendød’s talent isn’t limited to four-string heft,2 though, as guitarist K does a swell job through Svekkelse’s forty-two minutes. The tremolos are well-executed but standard black metal fare, and he spices things up with calculated whammy abuse (“Likens bortgang”), inducing surf-rock flavors when employed. K also tucks some nifty solos into Svekkelse, my personal favorite being in “Maktens sødme,” and occasionally inhabits skronky Voivodian territory (“Maktens sødme,” “En elv av kjøtt”). Rounding out the trio, drummer TK braces the band ably and unobtrusively, and while there’s no show-stopping kit work, the music never flags or sags for lack of a rhythmic cornerstone.

Churning out an album in a year is no mean feat, but more time between releases could have helped address the nagging issues holding Svekkelse back. Final track “Den falske råte” is a nasty, seven-minute ode to Norwegian black metal fury. It captures that sound well, but doesn’t connect with the preceding songs enough. Dropping it and pushing “En staur i hjertet” to the end would have made the album tighter, more consistent, and still allowed for a sprawling conclusion with sufficient gravity. Also, while there aren’t any bad songs on Svekkelse, the quality dips in the back half. Specifically, mid-paced sections muck with the overall flow, and the songs aren’t quite as memorable, making for a front-loaded listen. Despite these reservations, Gjendød delivers a success. While a high DR score isn’t a guarantee, the mix and master on Svekkelse are superb, deftly blending raw guitar and vocals with smooth, buttery bass. In total, there’s a lot to like.

Gjendød’s latest imparts a groovy twist on black metal in a one-sitting dose, which is better than a fair number of albums I’ve listened to this year. While Svekkelse won’t list for me, I expect I’ll return to it when I hear other promising black metal albums deficient in vitamin bass. Gjendød has defined a trademark sound, and with a little more attention to honing their songcraft, their next album could be something special. As it stands, Gjendød are on the cusp of something better, but after several listens, I’m not entirely convinced. Regardless, I’m invested in the evolution of their sound and excited to hear where they take things next.

Rating: Good!
DR: 10 | Format Reviewed: 320 kpbs mp3
Label: Osmose Productions
Website: Facebook
Releases Worldwide: September 26th, 2025

#2025 #30 #BlackMetal #Gjendød #Gorgoroth #MelodicBlackMetal #NorwegianMetal #Osmose #OsmoseProductions #Review #Reviews #Satyricon #Sep25 #Svekkelse #Voivod

Ordeals – Third Rail Prayer Review

By Spicie Forrest

Sometimes called the live rail, the third rail runs alongside the New York City Subway tracks, carrying electrical current enough to power the trains’ motors—or kill those who accidentally touch it. In a political context, the term refers to subjects dangerous enough to ruin careers. I learned this while researching Ordeals’ debut album, Third Rail Prayer. This NYC trio formed in 2011 and released two EPs and a split in the 14 years since.1 Influenced by the Australian scene, Ordeals promises a serpentine, subterranean blend of black and death metal, garnished with quiet grandiosity. Will Third Rail Prayer jumpstart their burgeoning career, or are they dead on arrival?

What Ordeals lacks in recognition, they offset with strong musicianship. Blackened riffs, courtesy of bassist/guitarist Illuminated, roil and surge like a sturgeon just beneath the surface, constantly shifting and reappearing through tempo shifts and key changes (“Throes”). Tremolo-heavy passages like those on “Suffer Cursed Ordeals” invoke Abominator and instill a sense of urgency and desperation. The bass most often acts as foil for the guitar, adding depth and texture to each track, but there are moments, like the back half of Skeletonwitched “Emerge,” where it takes center stage. Drummer Bellum loves a good blast beat, but he has a wealth of percussive techniques at his disposal. His kitwork is dynamic and energetic, and he drives the album with a varied and masterful hand. Bellum sets the tone (“Scorn Ceremony”), guides transitions (“Third Rail Prayer,” “Suffer Cursed Ordeals”), and keeps the album moving at an enjoyable and engaging pace.

A sectarian, ritualistic energy pervades Third Rail Prayer. Rather than high-pitched rasps, Zealous Hellspell mostly employs full-throated roars and shouts like Uada or Rotting Christ, evoking clandestine religious ceremonies or the recitation of some dark magic (“Triumph,” “Suffer Cursed Ordeals”). Though Ordeals bills themselves as blackened death, my ears hear a fair—and quite competent—share of doom, as “Throes” and “Triumph” build delightfully unsettling tension with stately Candlemass-esque riffcraft. The patient bass and inexorable drums of “Scorn Ceremony” paint a picture of evil sacraments and recall the backwater cult vibes of Choir. Ordeals releases that tension to great effect, too. In conjunction with Hellspell’s fanatical roars, Illuminated and Bellum often end songs by whipping each other into a spiraling dionysian fervor reminiscent of Kvaen’s “The Funeral Pyre” (“Third Rail Prayer,” “Throes,” “Emerge”). Contrary to my expectations, crafting this ceremonial, almost liturgical atmosphere is where Ordeals truly excels.

The atmospheric, doom-laden high points of Third Rail Prayer make for an ironic prime criticism. When Ordeals channels Solitude Aeternus or Solstice, their measured, dignified songcraft and palpable atmosphere far outstrip anything else on the album. Make no mistake, Third Rail Prayer is an enjoyable ride front to back, but Ordeals’ blacker, deathier portions feel lackluster by comparison. While Zealous Hellspell’s rapturous howling helps stretch that atavistic spirit over the whole album, the same can’t be said of Illuminated and Bellum’s contributions. When Ordeals’ focus shifts from doom to another subgenre, I’m left impatiently waiting for their focus to shift back. The synergy and flow in those Sabbathian passages is so comprehensive, it’s ultimately frustrating that there’s not more of it here.

Third Rail Prayer employs a kitchen sink approach, showing off a little bit of everything the band can do. Ordeals plays good black metal and good death metal, but they play great high (blackened) doom. On Third Rail Prayer, Ordeals treats their best characteristic as just another tool in their belt. This debut serves as a 40-minute proof of concept, albeit an unfocused one.2 If they can hone in on their strengths—stately, doomy songcraft and palpably ceremonious atmosphere—and use them as a solid foundation moving forward, they’ll create something great in a sea of good. Ordeals is not a band to be slept on, and I have high expectations for them in the future.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Labels: Eternal Death
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: September 26th, 2025

#2025 #30 #Abominator #AmericanMetal #BlackMetal #BlackSabbath #BlackenedDeathMetal #Candlemass #Choir #Daethorn #DeathMetal #DoomMetal #EternalDeath #Kvaen #Ordeals #Review #Reviews #RottingChrist #Sep25 #Skeletonwitch #SolitudeAeternus #Solstice #ThirdRailPrayer #Uada

Sundrowned – Higanbana Review

By Killjoy

2013 wasn’t that long ago, was it? Yet it seems that Deafheaven’s opus, Sunbather, didn’t need long to become enough of a genre classic to inspire countless groups in pursuit of a paradoxically harsh yet dreamy musical experience. It was more than likely the inspiration for the name Sundrowned, a relatively new post-black band from Haugesund, Norway. Their debut album, Become Ethereal, didn’t make much of an impression on El Cuervo in 2021 and now it’s my turn for some solar exposure in the form of Higanbana.1 Has Sundrowned set out with a life preserver this time or is this another cautionary tale about the hidden hazards of Sunbathing?

As it turns out, Sundrowned sounds more like a distant relative of Sunbather rather than a direct heir. While there is a faint resemblance to Deafheaven’s softer side, most of the aggression has been watered down or stripped out completely. Though billed as post-black, what remains is post-metal of the sparkly variety like unto Asthénie. The hazy shoegaze of Become Ethereal still appears in the form of distorted walls of sound during the heavier parts. The increased emphasis on post-metal is a good thing for Higanbana, giving it a more defined shape and structure which suits the deep, growling vocal style better than the meandering, gazey Become Ethereal.

Yet, despite marginal improvements, many of Sundrowned’s prior deficiencies persist into Higanbana. For the most part, they have not fixed the problem of aimlessly drifting to and fro. “Ilex” is the exception to this, with a buildup that feels smooth and purposeful thanks in large part to G.L. Innocent’s dynamic drum performance. Furthermore, post-metal and shoegaze are genres that live or die by their emotional resonance, and Higanbana falls short in this crucial area. Though the instrumentation is highly pleasant, it doesn’t compensate for the vocals. The passionless growls feel almost obligatory, as if only there to prove Sundrowned’s metal pedigree. Admittedly, at times Higanbana has been a soothing balm to my mind after work. Nevertheless, it’s essentially the sonic equivalent of Jell-O—sweet but not substantial or filling.

Also like Jell-O, it’s mostly homogeneous. Whether you like the first track, “Barren,” is a good indicator of whether you should continue consuming, as the menu doesn’t change much. With the exception of the aforementioned “Ilex,” I still cannot differentiate between the songs without checking. The vocals are the biggest culprit, with very little variance in pitch or intensity in the croaking delivery. As for the compositions, the chunkier bits are the least enticing or memorable (again, as with Jell-O). Where Sundrowned shines is in the serene sections, but these tend to be interrupted, seemingly at random, by fuzzy walls of sound that come out of nowhere (“Wisteria,” “Barren”). Another way to think of Higanbana is the jellyfish scene from Finding Nemo—the surroundings are captivating at first but make it nigh impossible to orient oneself.

Try as I might, I can’t see how Higanbana was designed to be anything but background music. Nearly everything about it seems intent to reward passive listens and punish attentive ones. Though it is a marked improvement from the debut, it will likely only work for those looking for a relaxing audio adornment. Higanbana probably would have fared better with more songs in the vein of “Ilex.” As things stand, Sundrowned is not the spiritual successor to the legendary Sunbather that I was hoping for.

Rating: 2.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Fysisk Format
Websites: sundrownedband.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/SundrownedBand
Releases Worldwide: September 26th, 2025

#20 #2025 #Asthénie #Deafheaven #FysiskFormat #Higanbana #NorwegianMetal #PostMetal #Review #Reviews #Sep25 #Shoegaze #Sundrowned

Crucible – Hail to the Force Review

By Steel Druhm

By: Nameless_n00b_604

Whether you’re a fledgling artist or an industry veteran, the process of making music is hard, strewn with obstacles internal and external. For the speed/US-inspired power metallers Crucible, that obstacle was Mother Nature, who gifted them a massive snowstorm that drastically impeded their studio time to record their debut album Hail to the Force. The Danes, thus, banged out the entire ten-track, thirty-seven-minute record in a week. For a young band recording a debut together, that’s nuts. But we’re not here for the story—we’re here for the album, a throwback affair of promo-purported “ferocious aggression with strong melodies and epic heavy metal atmospheres.” Did Nature not want this thing made, or was she testing Crucible to give Hail to the Force the fire they need to stand amongst the Metal Gods they venerate?

Crucible really likes the ’80s. Throughout Hail to the Force, Crucible administer Judas Priestly heroics at Riotous speeds, ripping Defenders of the Faith leads on the title track and injecting “Savage Weapon” with Thundersteel adrenaline. Openers “Deathdealer” and “Embrace of Steele” are as archetypically speed metal as they come, awash with thundering drums and bass by Ole Iversen and Kenneth Frandsen respectively, soaring vocals by Phillip Butler (Pectora) and massively palm-muted riffs by guitarists Thomas Carnell (Impalers) and Jon Brogård. “Manic Minute” sees Butler deliver power metal wails as the band rages with Motörhead delinquency, while “Far Beyond the Grave” revels in the retro futuristic aesthetics of Iron Maiden’s Somewhere in Time. They even recall fellow throwback acts, deploying belligerent vocals on “Evilforce” reminiscent of Livewire and the modernly loud, yet organic production of Riot City. Without question, Crucible is married to their influences.

Crucible brings talent and vitality to Hail to the Force, but never escapes their influences’ shadows. Stomping the pedal down and rarely letting up, with “Evilforce” and “Mad Minute” showcasing their most frantic capabilities, Crucible can’t be accused of sluggishness. Neither could their guitarists be justly labeled as shlubs: their solos are brimming with sharp, vintage shredding and tasteful sweeping. But too often, Crucible stick to the speed metal playbook like glue. “Deathdealer,” “Savage Weapon” and the title track mimic thrashy power metal riffs and piercing wails done countless times before them, leaving little of their own DNA in the mix. Rhythmically, Crucible keeps it basic, only flirting with groove on “Far Beyond the Grave” and some surprise stop-and-starts throughout. Unexpectedly, the instrumental “While My Guitar Gently Sweeps” with its Bladerunner-evocative synth-scape, relaxed tempo and root-note-escaping bass lines showcase Crucible at their freshest and reveal how one-note much of the other songs can be. Hail to the Force is undeniably fun, but its derivativeness leaves it stuck in the realm of mere tribute.

Sadly, awkward songwriting pulls Hail to the Force down further. Crucible’s short-and-sweet songcraft is admirable, demonstrating a willingness to self-edit, but many tracks feel somewhat half-baked. “Deathdealer’s” solo ends anticlimactically, while “Mad Minute” wraps up with little resolution following its solo. Despite short runtimes, over-repetition remains a problem, with “Redwing” wearing thin its Maidenesque “oh-oh” bridge and the title track wearing its name out with overuse. Vocals can also flounder, as Butler’s lines—kept primarily to a high, strained register—are sometimes clunky. “Embrace of Steele’s” chorus sounds off-balance, like it’s rushing through its last couple lines, while the melismatic runs in “Far Beyond the Grave” don’t sound strictly in-key. Butler’s best performance is on “Splashed to the Four Winds,” a Judas Priest-like bruiser where he plays a veritable Halford and, coincidentally, sings lower than normal. Nothing on Hail to the Force is bad or—worse—boring, but enough nitpicks keep most of Crucible’s offerings from reaching their fullest potential.

Hail to the Force is enjoyable, but I know Crucible have more interesting material in them. Crucible know how to trim down, which is half the battle of good music, but now they need to learn when to let loose. If the power and chutzpah Crucible exhibited on this record were to appear on a more adventurously diverse sophomore release, it would make for a gangbusters follow-up. But as is, fans of the olde school will likely appreciate Hail to the Force’s retro aesthetics, youthful enthusiasm, and proficient musicianship. I just hope Mother Nature cuts Crucible a break for their next one.

Rating: Mixed.
DR: 6 | Review Format: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: From the Vaults
Websites: crucibledk.bandcamp | facebook.com/cruciblespeedmetal | instagram.com/cruciblespeedmetal
Release Date: September 12th, 2025

#25 #2025 #Crucible #DanishMetal #FromTheVaults #HailToTheForce #HeavyMetal #IronMaiden #JudasPriest #LiveWire #Motörhead #PowerMetal #Review #Reviews #Riot #RiotCity #RiotV #Sep25 #SpeedMetal

Record(s) o’ the Month – September 2025

By Angry Metal Guy

I am sick. Things are bleak. It is October. There is pumpkin spice in everything. And now you come to me and you say, “AMG, give me the Record(s) o’ the Month.” But you don’t ask with respect. You don’t offer friendship. You don’t even think to call me Dr. Metal Guy or compliment my excellent taste. Instead, you come into my house on the day my daughter is to be married, and you ask me to give you the Record(s) o’ the Month—for free.

What have I ever done to make you treat me so disrespectfully? If you’d come to me in friendship, then this music that will ruin your eardrums and cause your grandchildren to yell while they try to communicate with you would already have been yours. And, if, by chance, honest people like yourselves made enemies, they would become my enemies—and they would fear you.

Someday, and that day may never come, I will call upon you to do a service for me. But until that day, accept this Record(s) o’ the Month as a gift on my daughter’s wedding day.1

One of metal’s true titans, Paradise Lost has been at this for 40 years and 17 albums. A band with eras, Paradise Lost’s tenure has not been without its ebbs. Yet Ascension [out September 19th, 2025, from Nuclear Blast Records (buy on Bandcamp)] offers fans something old and new again, and truly lifts the band’s modern sound through synthesis. Rather than simply rehashing the classics, Ascension assembles the different pieces of the band’s legacies into something powerful, catchy, and—as counterintuitive as it seems—novel. It would be wrong to say that Paradise Lost has “never sounded so vital,” but they haven’t previously presented such a simultaneously diverse and powerful vision of their sound. Both Steel Druhm and Grymm were blown away by Ascension’s ability to balance the different veins of their sound and feel united and unique. What Druhm gushed is true: “It’s rare a band as long in the tooth as Paradise Lost uncorks a late career album that can stand among the giants in their catalogue, but Ascension is one such slippery aberration.”2 And Grymmothy concurs: “Who would have thought,” he wondered aloud after crooning in amazement at this accomplishment of metal, “that by reaching into their vault of classic albums, they would not only put together something fresh and timeless, but also make a strong case for one of their best ever?”

Hegel, that’s who.

Runner(s) Up:

Vittra // Intense Indifference [September 19th, 2025 | Self-release | Bandcamp] — Melodic death metal might be gasping for air in 2025, but Sweden’s Vittra just kicked the respirator across the room and screamed “MOTHERFUCKER LET’S GO!” Intense Indifference clocks in at a tight 33 minutes of thrashy, riff-driven melodeath that remembers the genre was born to move heads, not cry into beards.3 With the manic energy of a band stuck in rural Västmanland and the chops to back it up, Vittra threads the needle between At the Gates’ aggression, Soilwork’s slickness, and the fretboard fireworks of Mors Principium Est. Yet somehow, these weirdos slip in honkytonk piano, bluesy acoustic passages, and enough BDE to make your mom blush. As I papified Pure Divine Doctrine and a Universal Truth for which all dissenters and deviants shall be roundly punished: “Vittra reminds us that melodic death metal still slaps when it remembers to be metal. Intense Indifference might be short, but it’s sharp, hooky, and very, very good.”4 Short album, long replay life.

Igorrr // Amen [September 19th, 2025 | Metal Blade Records | Bandcamp] — For nearly twenty years, Gautier Serre has been metal’s reigning mad scientist, blending breakcore, baroque, and blastbeats into something that shouldn’t work but absolutely does. Amen refines the chaos without sanding off the edges, finding full-band-Igorrr firing on every cylinder. Dear Hollow probably crossed someone’s personal boundaries while calling it “a reaffirmation of Serre’s genius/insanity,” but even if he’s sitting too close, that’s the right take. Amen balances absurdity, heaviness, and sophistication with freakish precision. From the orchestral depth to the cartoonish detours of “Mustard Mucous” and “Blastbeat Falafel,” it’s dense, manic, and meticulously constructed. There’s no other band that can make so much noise feel this purposeful or fun. Returning to Dear Hollow’s (only?) vaguely inappropriate public tongue-bathing of Igorrr,5 let’s round this off: “Amen is a reaffirmation of Igorrr’s batshit and fun-loving genius, as well as a new step forward: haunting, brutal, and otherworldly in a way that we can take seriously.”

Mors Principium Est // Darkness Invisible [September 26th, 2025 | Perception/Reigning Phoenix Music | No Bandcamp because labels hate their fans] — Eight albums deep and still shredding like they’ve got something to prove, Mors Principium Est returns with Darkness Invisible, a darker, heavier, and more cinematic take on Finnish melodeath. With founding guitarists Jori Haukio and Jarkko Kokko back in the fold, the band taps into its early DNA while pushing toward symphonic density and blackened aggression. In my factual recitation of truths about the world, I referred to Darkness Invisible as “a record that sounds darker and denser than the glossy sheen of Seven,” and incidentally, I’m right; this is ambitious melodeath with a subtly addictive feel, even though the mix sometimes threatens to collapse under its own weight, and Darkness Invisible is a bold reset for Mors Principium Est. I wasn’t going to include this here, but the more I listen to it, the more I like it.6 And more importantly, the more I spin it, the better I think it is. While it does struggle with production, its Bodomesque guitarwork and orchestral ambitions make it sneakily addictive.

#2025 #Amen #Ascension #BlogPost #BlogPosts #Blogpost #DarknessInvisible #Igorrr #IntenseIndifference #MetalBladeRecords #MorsPrincipiumEst #NuclearBlast #ParadiseLost #Perception #RecordOTheMonth #RecordSOTheMonth #ReigningPhoenixMusic #Sep25 #Vittra

Lightchapter – Where All Hope Begins Review

By ClarkKent

Death metal generally dabbles in the dark, the grisly, the violent, and the brutal. With the aid of ’80s-style synths, Lightchapter plays a version with a lighter, more hopeful touch. The aptly-named Where All Hope Begins marks album number two for this quartet out of Denmark. The band’s mission is to merge “despair and hope” and also “pain and joy” through not only their sound but their lyrics. Even on a blog that celebrates the angry and still makes fun of the brief Happy Metal Guy stint, I imagine something that infuses joy and lightness would find a welcoming audience. After all, Countless Skies showed how a band could successfully write an uplifting progressive death metal record, and that one was well-liked around these parts. Do we dare get our hopes up for Lightchapter?

While synth is a core part of their sound, this ain’t no dungeon synth. Lightchapter strikes a balance between old-school synth rock and more modern melodeath. Following an intro tune, “Leading the Way,” that evokes Stranger Things-style synths, “Where All Hope Begins” sets the album going on its marriage between industrial death metal acts like Orbit Culture and ’80s synth rock stalwarts like Depeche Mode. This isn’t a brutal version of death metal but a much softer approach. Guitars have more reverb than bite, cutting down on the heaviness, and the drums similarly don’t punch with the punishing heft of a Brodequin. The ’80s stuff also helps to soften the sound, with the synths providing a layer that lightens the already light guitar tone. Then there’s those familiar ’80s drum tones—the gated reverb and toms—that’ll warp you back to your carefree days listening to Duran Duran and the like. Lightchapter also features some deathcore breakdowns, though not obnoxiously (“The Unholy Mass,” “Revenge”). This blend of styles finds its most effective execution towards the end of Where All Hope Begins, particularly on the catchy “Little Death.”

Due to the lack of brutal guitars and thunderous blast beats, Where All Hope Begins turns out to be a rather chill album. This is true despite the harsh growls from Mikkel Ottosen. In fact, his vocals complement the instrumentals well. The combination of Anders Berg’s reverb guitar tone and melodic riffs and Tobias Høst’s restrained drumming makes this a surprisingly relaxing listening experience. It’s true that songs like “What I Have Become” start out fast and heavy, but the heart of the song is soft tones and chill tempos. The softer moments gave me whiffs of Slipknot’s ballads, but also the lighter tunes on Rivers of Nihil’s latest. Lightchapter doesn’t quite hit the soaring emotional highs that Andy Thomas often reached, but that’s all part of their mellow charm. The hopeful tone is a breath of fresh air in the usually dark world of death metal.

If anything lets Lightchapter down, it’s a lack of hooks. The melodic leads and synths aren’t particularly catchy for most songs, nor are the choruses all that memorable. Some exceptions show how much stronger Where All Hope Begins could have been. “Unholy Mass” features not only a great synth line, but a memorable chorus when Ottosen sings “Father, you have forsaken me.” The final three tracks unleash Lightchapter’s true potential. “Little Death” is the album highlight, utilizing a catchy riff and synth combo that emphasizes Lightchapter’s strengths. The best chorus belongs to “My Own Kind,” which is the only song that comes close to reaching those Andy Thomas-level highs, thanks to the guitar tone. Combine the hooks of the one with the cathartic emotional highs of the other, and these guys could have something great on their hands. The finished product is an enjoyable record that doesn’t quite stick—but it shows how Lightchapter can get to that point next time.

Unfortunately, Lightchapter is releasing Where All Hope Begins at the end of a hectic release month, and on perhaps the biggest release day, where it’s competing for attention with Amorphis, Mors Principium Est, and Revocation. If you’re feeling a bit overwhelmed and burned out from all of the must-listens this month, a spin or two of Where All Hope Begins could help ground you. Sometimes an album like this that tries something a little different without going off the rails is just what you need to settle your frayed nerves. Lightchapter has crafted an album that shows promise for this young band. If anything, it’ll at least give you some measure of hope.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 10 | Format Reviewed: ~175 kbps VBR mp3
Label: Self-Released
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Site
Releases Worldwide: September 26th, 2025

#2025 #30 #Amorphis #Brodequin #CountlessSkies #DanishMetal #DepecheMode #DuranDuran #ElectroDeathMetal #IndustrialMetal #Lightchapter #MelodicDeathMetal #Metalcore #MorsPrinicipumEst #OrbitCulture #Review #Reviews #Revocation #RiversOfNihil #selfRelea #SelfReleased #Sep25 #Slipknot #SynthMetal #WhereAllHopeBegins

Insomniac – Om Moksha Ritam Review

By Samguineous Maximus

The terms “psychedelic” and “post-metal” are usually enough for me to approach any new release with caution—not because those genres lack excellent music, but because they’re so often associated with overlong, unfocused songs. For every Cult of Luna or Oranssi Pazuzu, there are fifty bands peddling overlong, riffless dirges that mistake “atmosphere” for actual songwriting. Atlanta supergroup Insomniac has arrived with their debut record Om Moksha Ritam, with the ominous self-designation of “post-doom.” The title, loosely translated from Sanskrit as “Liberation through merging with the Universal Rhythm,”1 foregrounds its ambitions as a concept album designed to “guide listeners through an aural and spiritual journey across multiple extreme environments.” Have Insomniac crafted a narrative listening experience that successfully conveys its metaphysical aspirations? Or is their debut the “post-doom” equivalent of a bad trip?

On Om Moksha Ritam, Insomniac manages to craft a sound that is immediately recognizable yet distinctly their own. They merge the progressive psychedelia of Elder with the layered, textural approach of REZN, all filtered through the Southern-gothic tinge of fellow Georgians Baroness. The result is a body of songs that draw equally from the contemplative exploration of ’70s prog, Americana-dipped blues rock, and the anthemic heft of post-metal’s sludgier, power-chord-driven moments. What makes this combination work is not just the intuitive chemistry of the instrumentalists, but the commanding presence of vocalist Van Bassman. Each track is surprisingly vocal-driven, and Bassman conjures a sound somewhere between a bluesier Dax Riggs and a John Baizley who’s actually capable of singing. His baritone sits front and center for much of Om Moksha Ritam, often accompanied by vocal layers and effects, creating a kaleidoscopic swirl that amplifies the ebb and flow of the music as it moves between peaks and valleys.

It helps that Om Moksha Ritam’s tracklist is dynamic and well-paced, with each of its 7 songs offering subtle differentiation on Insomniac’s core formula. Much of this can be attributed to the interplay between guitarists Alex Avedissian and Mike Morris,2 whose willingness to balance acoustic and effects-laden electric timbres gives the record a versatile and interesting palette. The guitars ferry the songs between quiet reflection and crushing grandeur. Whether it’s weaving intricate folky arpeggios together with tripped-out leads (“Desert”), harmonizing across doomy atmospheres (“Mountain”) or using post-rock tremolos to punctuate a well-earned climax (“Meditation), the guitar work on Om Moksha Ritam is consistently engaging and varied. Of course, this would be for naught without a strong rhythm section, but Insomniac has that as well. Drummer Amos Rifkin brings a loose, delicate touch to softer tracks like “Sea” and “Forest,” but escalates with thunderous weight when the music demands greater intensity. Meanwhile, bassist Juan Garcia provides a warm, full-bodied tone that both supports and embellishes the melodic core, keeping the songs anchored amid the dense layering of guitars and vocals, which is important on a track like the expansive and sprawling “Snow and Ice.”

Only a few minor inconsistencies keep Om Moksha Ritam from reaching the apex of Insomniac’s sound. The B-side leans away from emphatic “Hell yes” moments in favor of slower, navel-gazing jams. These tracks reward repeat listens but aren’t as immediately gripping. Closer “Awakening” falls just shy of the monumental highs of the opening salvo, with a climactic chorus that doesn’t land as powerfully as it could. For the most part, the record sounds fantastic and balances its many intricate layers, though there are moments (the refrains of “Mountain” and “Sea”) where Bassman’s voice overpowers the rest of the band in a psychedelic spiral. These issues don’t detract too heavily from the record’s overall impact, but they are worth noting.

Om Moksha Ritam takes you on a hallucinogenic trek across the desert, riffs shimmering like heat mirages, the atmosphere thick enough to choke a camel. Insomniac has delivered an album that takes listeners on a true musical journey, drenched in smoke-filled vibes, yet immediately rewarding. Their unique, psychedelic strain of “post-doom” metal blends familiar elements from beloved bands into something greater than the sum of its parts. If Insomniac invite me on another spiritual vision quest through the wastelands of sound, I’ll happily lace up my sandals, pack my water skin, and follow them straight into the void.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: PCM
Label: Blues Funeral Recording
Websites: insomniacvibes.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/insomniacatl
Releases Worldwide: September 1st, 2025

#2025 #35 #AmeircanMetal #Baroness #BluesFuneralRecording #BluesRock #CultOfLuna #DoomMetal #Elder #Insomniac #OmMokshaRitam #OranssiPazuzu #PostRock #PostMetal #ProgressiveMetal #PsychedelicMetal #PsychedelicRock #Review #Reviews #REZN #Sep25

we.own.the.sky – In Your Absence Review

By GardensTale

Though not all post-metal is instrumental, almost all instrumental metal bands play some variation of post-metal. One could write a riveting dissertation exploring the reasons behind this phenomenon and its implications, if one were inclined towards musical studies and history; alas, I am but a humble observer of such odd patterns and have no definitive answers. Perhaps it is part of how heavily defined by vocals many genres are; perhaps the textured and buildup-heavy nature of post-metal simply lends itself well to instrumental approaches. Greek 5-piece we.own.the.sky makes no effort to break the pattern on its third album In Your Absence, but as a fan of the style, I have no complaint. But it can be a devilishly tricksome affair to eschew vocals altogether without getting stale. How do the sky-owners fare?

As annoyingly hip the stylization of the band name is, so expertly crafted is In Your Absence. No two songs are interchangeable, and rarely does any track feel particularly overlong. Refreshingly for instrumental post-metal, we.own.the.sky does not often lean on languid melancholy. Most tracks have energy and momentum, emerging through the darker, djent-adjacent notes of opener “The Urge to Prey,” the effervescent bliss of “Everbreathing” and the feverish, drum-heavy “Eclipse.” The structures hew further from the expansive and exploratory, aligning closer to traditional verse-chorus setups, and it makes for an immediate, accessible album like few in this style can manage.

This is clearly a deliberate choice. Even longer tracks like “Swarm” and “Liminal Space” stay well under 8 minutes and use their extra time in buildups that return to established phrases and intelligent variations on the rich stock of melodies the guitars provide. “Swarm” is an especially powerful song, its gentle opening notes morphing into a grand ascending beast, the melody carried upon a shifting syncopated foundation. It’s a one-two punch with the sweeping joy of “Everbreathing,” whose bright tremolos remind me of the most recent Alcest. Closer “Silhouette” shares that similarity, and it’s the sole track that does contain vocals, which provides a warm well of emotional contrast and provides rich wonder as the album’s denouement.

The biggest bump in the road is “Fragile, Alive,” a slow and gentle track that skates dangerously close to saccharine soft rock. It’s smack dab in the middle of In Your Absence and is a hard stop for all the momentum built by “Swarm” and “Everbreathing”. The melody is fairly repetitive and a bit mawkish, and the track doesn’t move away from it until the midway point. It’s not outright bad, especially when it opens up and gains more heft, but it is the album’s Achilles’ heel, worsened by its central placement in the track list. Thankfully, the hard-hitting follow-up “Eclipse” is an immediate pick-me-up, and we.own.the.sky return to form within seconds. Dressed with a delicious guitar tone and even-keeled mix, the production1 puts the cherry on the cake. It matches the compositions for an enticing, immediate sound that’s as listenable as it is versatile.

With In Your Absence, we.own.the.sky place yet another nail in the coffin of the idea that quality and fame go hand in hand. In fact, the band kicks over every assumption that crosses their path. Greek metal is known for grandeur and symphonies, yet In Your Absence is concise and introspective. Post-metal tends toward texture-heavy dreaminess, yet this is melody-driven and direct. With a decade and a half behind them and In Your Absence, their third album, under their wing, we.own.the.sky have proven themselves more than capable of producing music that’s beautiful, transporting, and downright addictive. The world’s been sleeping on this band. Don’t miss out.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: PCM
Label: Dunk!Records
Websites: weownthesky.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/weowntheskygr
Releases Worldwide: September 19th, 2025

#2025 #35 #Alcest #DunkRecords #GreekMetal #InYourAbsence #PostMetal #Review #Reviews #Sep25 #weOwnTheSky

Warcoe – Upon Tall Thrones Review

By Spicie Forrest

Certain decades and locations have a unique and instantly recognizable sound, like 90s hip hop, Florida death metal, 70s rock, etc. But such subgenres—at least for metal—are no longer regionally or temporally exclusive. There are American bands that play Swedeath and 2010s bands that play 80s thrash. In this postmodern era, iconic sounds of time and place are constantly worshipped, reimagined, and repurposed by new bands for a contemporary global audience. Warcoe is one such band. When I first heard the vintage doomsters, I thought them from the 70s or 80s, but they formed in Pesaro, Italy in 2021. Impressed with their retro style, I laid claim to their third full-length, Upon Tall Thrones, and spent some time reveling in the sounds of yesteryear.

From the first notes of opener “Octagon,” it’s clear Warcoe grew up on Black Sabbath and their progeny. Carlo’s bass is warm and velvety, while Stefano’s devious guitar tone compliments his Ozzy-esque vocals well. More than mere worshippers, Warcoe augments their classic sound with stoner rock and metal. “The Wanderer” and “Brown Witch” summon Monolord with mammothian riffage, while leaner, more energetic tracks like “I’ve Sat upon Tall Thrones (but I’ll Never Learn)” and “Spheres” strike a balance between Windhand, The Sword or Kadaver. Beyond doom and stoner metal, Warcoe also incorporates more classic styles. Stefano’s lead guitar never fails to impress, his hooks and solos recalling your dad’s favorite cuts from CCR or ZZ Top. As a whole, Upon Tall Thrones presents a nostalgic, vintage sound dressed in modern clothes.

While Upon Tall Thrones initially sounded great in the background, its faults appeared when I began paying closer attention. I love the timbre of Stefano’s voice, and it fits Warcoe’s style, but his delivery is fairly monotone. Stefano’s minimal range holds several good moments back from greatness (“I’ve Sat…,” “Dark into Light”). This may be a stylistic choice, but it grows tiresome around the midpoint. The production on Upon Tall Thrones is a much bigger issue. I’m not sure what happened between drummer Francesco sitting down to record and me downloading the files, but the drums skip and stutter quite a bit. It’s mostly confined to the cymbals, and it’s more noticeable on the back half, but I heard at least one instance on every track except drumless acoustic interlude “Gather in the Woods.” That track has its own problems, though, as static popping accompanies every. single. note. It’s maddening, I can’t unhear it, and it ruins an otherwise great acoustic break.

Faults aside, I still hear ambition and potential on Upon Tall Thrones. But for the tail end of “Deepest Grave,” there’s no bloat here. Warcoe is dynamic. Rarely does a riff overstay its welcome or a song miss its best endpoint. Even with two instrumental tracks smack dab in the middle of the album (“Gather in the Woods” and “Flame in Your Hand”), the energy doesn’t falter, and my attention doesn’t wander. Warcoe even manages a little successful experimentation. Blackened tremolos hover above the proceedings on “Dark into Light,” and the 16-bit, Wraith Knighted solo of “Flame in Your Hand” sends me hurtling down memory lane to play Final Fantasy IV. It’s Warcoe’s willingness to explore beyond their influences that makes me think they’re chasing something special here.

I try not to quote promo material, but in the case of Warcoe’s Upon Tall Thrones, “groovy doom from the abyss” and “vintage darkness with sharp and heavy riffs” work pretty well. Unfortunately, what excels in a casual environment falls short under closer scrutiny. My criticisms of Upon Tall Thrones aren’t apocalyptic, but they are consistent and pervasive, bringing the entire album down. This resulted in a lower score than I wanted, but I have hope for the future. Warcoe shows promise. If Stefano can expand his range and the band can both secure cleaner production and hone their unique sound, whatever succeeds Upon Tall Thrones has the potential for excellence.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: FLAC
Label: Ripple Music | Morbid And Miserable Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: September 26th, 2025

#25 #2025 #BlackSabbath #CreedenceClearwaterRevival #DoomMetal #ItalianMetal #Kadaver #Monolord #MorbidAndMiserableRecords #OzzyOsbourne #Review #Reviews #RippleMusic #Sep25 #TheSword #UponTallThrones #Warcoe #Windhand #WraithKnight #ZZTop

Biolence – Violent Obliteration Review

By Spicie Forrest

Prior to my initiation ritual and early in my tenure as a volunteer whipping post, one of my jailers here at AMG saw fit to offer encouragement. “It gets better,” Dolphin Whisperer said. “Okay, but have you looked around recently?” I asked. He shrugged and replied, “not really. I’ve got a newborn. The Dolphlet takes up a lot of effort.” My cell door clanged shut as he left. Alone in the dark, I would wait nearly two months for the affirmation I sought in that moment. It would come in the form of Violent Obliteration, the third full-length from Biolence, a death/thrash four-piece from Vila Nova de Gaia, Portugal. With no Dolphlets to mind, it seems Biolence has looked around recently, and they are none too stoked.

My cell door opens to admit a dark figure silhouetted by guttering torchlight. A new promo drops to my feet. The door closes again. I queue up my next assignment, and I’m greeted by ambient sirens, gunfire, and marching instrumentals (“Intro”). I’m not given much time to process as a wordless howl tears through me and the music begins in earnest (“Pit of Degradation”). Guitarist David1 and bassist Daniel Marage work in tandem, their execution effortlessly concentric and complementary (“Heavy Artillery,” “World’s Plague”). Marage delivers basslines heavy enough to intimidate Giles Corey, while David threatens to remove twitching appendages with riffs like chop saws (“Extermination through Mutation”). As I’m thus welded to the floor, vocalist/guitarist César screams, growls, and bellows the horrors of a species actively culling itself and destroying its own planet.

These deathrashers aren’t the first I’ve ever heard, but they are some of the most competent. Front to back, Violent Obliteration exudes confidence and prowess. Whether channeling Sanguisugabogg to slam the food industry’s casual biological warfare (“Extermination through Mutation”) or Dark Angel to pronounce humanity’s death sentence (“Humanity Executioner”), Biolence has the chops to succeed at everything they attempt. New drummer Miguel Sousa elevates the rest of the band like he’s a got a personal vendetta. A psychotic conductor, he bends tempo and vibe to his will (“F.U.B.A.R.”), and with surgical hooks and fills, underscores every curse César screams (“Pit of Degradation,” “50 Caliber Freedom”). When César’s rage eclipses language, the lead guitar takes over, lamenting war’s futility (“Heavy Artillery,” “Glory of Savagery”) and religious corruption (“World’s Plague”) with mournful, bluesy solos. Marage’s bass rattles my chest, and when his 90s twang punches through the murk, it embodies a human absurdity both violent and dystopian (“Pit of Degradation,” “Violent Obliteration”). Totally in sync, this is a band with vision, skill, and passion.

But there are moments when I lose the plot. Violent Obliteration is indeed a dynamic and enthralling ride, but in their excitement, Biolence occasionally smashes incongruous elements together. “Extermination through Mutation” features a searing Sodom-infused lead with fantastic backing instrumentals, but sandwiched between slabs of slam death, it’s jarring and out of place. Sections of “Violent Obliteration” and “50 Caliber Freedom” suffer similarly. A few solos feel rudderless or drop the clutch (“Glory of Savagery,” “Violent Obliteration”), and the ambient interlude of “Heavy Artillery” languishes overlong. The album’s bookends—“Intro” and “Outro”—don’t warrant their collective runtime, with “Outro” feeling especially frustrating next to such a strongly concluded penultimate track (“F.U.B.A.R.”). Save for a few exceptions, Biolence excels in isolation; the components of individual tracks just don’t always fit together.

For 46 furious minutes, Biolence preaches the woes of the world outside. As the ambient sounds of “Outro” fade to a close, I collect my thoughts. Biolence is a band of talented and energetic musicians, both individually and together. Occasional jarring shifts and a few other missteps aside, Violent Obliteration is an impressive album. It’s an enjoyable platter of death/thrash metal from veterans of the scene. When Steel Druhm returns for my opinion later, I’ll tell him it’s good.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Labels: Doomed Records | Raging Planet | Selvajaria Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: September 1st, 2025

#2025 #30 #Biolence #DarkAngel #DeathMetal #DoomedRecords #PortugueseMetal #RagingPlanet #Review #Reviews #Sanguisugabogg #SelvajariaRecords #Sep25 #Sodom #ThrashMetal #ViolentObliteration

Crippling Alcoholism – Camgirl Review

By Tyme

‘Murderpop,’ though freshly minted, is an apt genre tag for the kind of music Crippling Alcoholism have been playing since 2022. Their sophomore effort, With Love From a Padded Room, got stuck in Dolphin Whisperer’s February Filter in 2024, where our resident porpoise spouted positively about its attributes, and drew me into Crippling’s lugubrious world. Upon learning another album was coming just a year and some change later, however, I feared diminished returns. Still, I seized the opportunity to cover third effort Camgirl, which tells the tragically sordid tale of online performer ‘Bella Pink,’ unfolding not only through her eyes, but of ‘those who consume her: lovers, relatives, business partners, stalkers.’1 I wondered what awful surprises Crippling Alcoholism had in store, my anticipation palpable for the return of Boston’s ‘cabaret of gloomerism.’2

Freed from the shadows of With Love’s padded cells, Camgirl’s milieu is no less engaging, ushering us from the asylum to the sweat-soaked euphoria and flashy lights of the night club. A mix of Joy Division-style punk pop and New Order-tinged dark-wave electronica (“LADIE’S NIGHT”), Crippling Alcoholism still manage to keep their crazy intact, at times channeling Mamaleek (“Pretty in Pink”) as well as Swans (“Pliers”). While Jonathan’s ebullient, saccharine-sweet synths and spacy atmospherics drive most of Camgirl’s melodies, it’s Peter’s bass, Stefan’s and newcomer Alyce’s guitar work, and Danny Sher’s drums that serve as the gothically grimy counterpoint. From spattered money shots of techno-erratic beats (“Pay Pigs”) to full-on drum-addled grindcore cacophony, replete with Alyce’s black metal screams (“CAMGIRL”), Crippling Alcoholism encases Camgirl in a shiny pink, glitz-shimmering wrapper that hides rotten candy, exposing the darkly fetid, degenerate underbelly of sex sold in the digital age.

As crucial to Crippling Alcoholism as any synth chord, guitar lick, or drum beat are the lyrics and vocals. Ever-present and immediately recognizable is the broodingly dulcet, Tom Waits meets Peter Steele baritone of Tony Castrati, who joins Alyce and a cast of guest vocalists—Juliet Gordon (Luxury Skin), Meredith Haines (Latter), and Aki McCullough (Ameokama)—to bring Bella’s Camgirl story to life. Catchy verses and hook-filled choruses abound, as Castrati sings on “Saran Wrapped Cash,” the words of Bella’s heartbroken father, ‘Should I kill myself? Well, funny you should ask,’ before admitting ‘I can’t see through your eyes cause mine are filled with hate,’ the song ending with Bella reminiscing about childhood, a Dark Rooms-esque diatribe of Alyce’s spoken word over airy synths. Other highlights include the super catchy “bedrot,” as I imagine a basement-dwelling Bella fan, drooling hungrily in the glow of his sex-filled laptop, poppily sings the chorus, ‘A monster, I’m a monster, Baby I’m a god damn monster,’ before screaming ‘I fucking hate the way I look, Yeah, I look like a fat fucking scumbag,’ in a heart-wrenching pique of self-loathing. Then the cinematic end credits style of album closer “despair,” as Meredith Haines embodies a used and abused Bella who has given in to her own hate and in true Lingua Ignota fashion screams at the world of degenerate consumerism that’s broken her, ‘You’ve always been nothing, A big vacuous nothing, I’ll squat down and I’ll piss in your fucking wounds!’ Camgirl is cinematically sexy, brash, and bristling with an in-your-face aggression, a soundtrack worthy of the smuttiest subject-specific script Tarantino could pen.

With a runtime pushing just over sixty-four minutes, Camgirl’s fishnet-clad gams are giantessic but void of severable length. Crippling Alcoholism cram necessary meaning into every second as the strength of the story and great songwriting carry the day, while Eric Sauter’s mix and Derek Blackburn’s master perfectly capture the dark and light dichotomy of Bella’s downward spiral. My one cavil with Camgirl falls, too, however, at the feet of the mix and master, as there are moments throughout where Castrati’s vocals, in particular, get washed out, most noticeably amidst the lows of “screentime”‘s piano melancholy and the highs of “TARAVISTA”‘s synthetic ecstasy.

Crippling Alcoholism fearlessly spit in the face of convention and expectation, reinventing themselves without betraying their power, which on Camgirl is the manufacture of feigned happiness. I love this iteration of the band, Alyce’s addition lending an even sharper metallic edge to what was already a whetted sword. Without much time to stew, Crippling Alcoholism have emerged with another darkened slice of excellence, deepening my fandom and increasing my excitement for what comes next.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: N/A | Format Reviewed: Stream
Label: Portrayal of Guilt
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: September 12th, 2025

#2025 #40 #American #Camgirl #CripplingAlcoholism #DarkRooms #GothRock #JoyDivision #Mamaleek #Murderpop #NewOrder #PortrayalOfGuilt #Review #Sep25 #Swans #Synthwave

Mors Principium Est – Darkness Invisible Review

By Angry Metal Guy

Mors Principium Est should, for longtime fans of Angry Metal Guy, need no introduction. Since 2003, these Finns have released eight full-length albums of top-notch melodic death metal. However, they really took flight in 2012 with …and Death Said Live!, which coincidentally is a year after Andy Gillion joined the band. Between 2011 and 2021, Mors produced melodic death metal that drew heavily on a strong Gothenburg vibe; guitar-forward, slick as fuck, and fun to listen to. Gillion was fired, however, in 2021. That was followed by the band releasing an album of re-recorded songs called Liberate the Unborn Inhumanity, which fans largely considered a half-measure. Darkness Invisible, then, marks the first truly new material since Seven. And I’ve been dying to know how this revamped Mors Principium Est would navigate the changes on album number nine.

Darkness Invisible presents a recognizable core sound that longtime fans will connect with, but its character reflects the shift in the lineup. With Ville Viljanen’s scathing roar still at the helm, the return of Jori Haukio and Jarkko Kokko on guitars reintroduces the early 2000s songwriting DNA, while bassist Teemu Heinola and (new guy) Marko Tommila give the rhythm section both drive and dynamic weight. Together, they summon a melodeath that is at once cinematic, technical, and blackened—evoking countrymen Children of Bodom or Kalmah. The themes that emerge are darker than before: a push toward massive symphonic density that occasionally brushes against Septic Flesh’s deathly grandeur, the arrival of deeper guttural vocals that tilt passages toward brutal death, and flashes of blackened riffing that lend a sharp edge. These elements intermingle across the album, creating a record that is both familiar and ambitious.

Much of Darkness Invisible’s character comes from its dark dynamics and cinematic presentation. The compositions weaponize contrast in vocals and atmosphere, making for a dynamic and entertaining record. Viljanen’s familiar bark remains the anchor of MPE’s sound, but the band now folds in cavernous gutturals that push closer to death metal extremity (“Summoning the Dark”), even contrasting these with operatic cleans and producing a clash of brutality and grandeur (“All Life Is Evil”). Additionally, there’s a frost that creeps into the riffs and drumming, with trem-picked riffs and blastbeats sharpening the band’s melodeath foundation toward something blackened and sinister (see: the chorus of “Venator,” or the end of “The Rivers of Avernus”). And even the more straightforward cuts employ these textures to broaden their weight, layering symphonic swells and bleak grandeur over increasingly technical riffing. The result is a record that sounds darker and denser than the glossy sheen of Seven. This expansion lends ambition and menace, though the density of choirs, gutturals, and orchestrations sometimes threatens to swamp the guitars that were the core of Mors’ sound.

For all its ambition, Darkness Invisible’s major drawback is that it’s undermined by an Industry Standard Production Job™ courtesy of Jens Bogren (mixing) and Tony Lindgren (mastering). Bogren has made dense orchestral metal soar before—think how cleanly he’s wrangled maximalist arrangements for acts like Fleshgod Apocalypse and Turisas—which makes this result unusual. The record is mastered loud and layered thick; climaxes hit hard,1 but the constant stacking of choirs, vocals, multiple guitar tracks, drums, and orchestration often clutters the field and can bury the guitars that most recently defined Mors Principium Est. On a proper stereo, the album sounds big and sinister—fully loaded with dynamics, pomp, and grandeur—but on earbuds and smaller setups, it can collapse into a busy blur. It’s been a long time since I popped in a new release and found it simply too crowded for casual listening—and it ends up being fatiguing to the ear at times. That busyness contributes to the album’s oppressive mood, but it also blunts individual performances. In reaching for monumental scale, the mix trades away clarity, leaving the listener torn between admiration for scope and frustration at execution.

Darkness Invisible has convinced me that this lineup can carry Mors Principium Est forward. The shift in sound works: the band leans harder into Children of Bodom and Dark Tranquillity on the melodic side, showing off fantastic guitar work while embracing a more cinematic and melodramatic identity. Without the bonus track, the album lands at a vinyl-friendly 46 minutes, and its structural pacing—variations in tempo, atmosphere, and density—make it a fun and dynamic listen despite the crowded mix. Darkness Invisible doesn’t bear much resemblance to the Gillion era, but that’s not necessarily a weakness.2 This darker and more melodramatic Mors Principium Est feels fresh, and tracks like “All Life Is Evil” and “The Rivers of Avernus” prove the style’s promise. So, I entered this review with concerns about what a Gillion-less Mors Principium Est would sound like, and I’m leaving it impressed and excited for what’s to come. I would call that a great success.

Rating: Very Good!
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s CBR MP3
Label: Perception [Reigning Phoenix Music]
Websites: Facebook | Instagram
Out Worldwide: September 26th, 2025

#AndDeathSaidLive #2025 #35 #AndyGillion #ChildrenOfBodom #DarkTranquillity #DarknessInvisible #FinnishMetal #FleshgodApocalypse #JensBogren #Kalmah #MelodicDeathMetal #MorsPrincipiumEst #OrchestralMetal #Review #Reviews #Sep25 #SepticFlesh #Seven #TonyLindgren #Turisas

Last Retch – Abject Cruelty Review

By Alekhines Gun

Despite the core ingredient being completely the same, not all steaks are created equal. Marbleization, marination, seasonings, sauces, garnishes, lobster tail, and the right type of whiskey to chase it down are all equally important considerations in preparation for the final product, despite the cynics’ argument that you’re dealing with the same slab of beef. So too with death metal. Hailing from Canada, Last Retch are our chophouse today, offering up their second LP Abject Cruelty to appease your palate for all things medium rare, and if you’re one of those cynics who think death metal all tastes the same because of its ingredient base, you can get back to whatever soup-slinging hellhole you came from. Abject Cruelty is here to eradicate and destroy with extreme prejudice, and make sure you lick the plate completely clean by the time you’re finished.

As all good steaks should, Abject Cruelty sounds fatty and thick. Drummer Spencer Robson has his double bass rolls placed flawlessly in the mix, adding car-window rattling depth of sound to machine gun riffs (“Resinous Drip of Decay”,) while guitarists John Russell and Derek Brzozowski ride a fat tone which straddles the line between HM-2 and the more filthy production of Gutless. Vocalist Finlay Blakelock has a vicious croak reminiscent of a more revitalized John McEntee (Incantation) in its depth. These well-worn ingredients come together in a total package of high-grade death, where the riff is king and the sauce is boss tone stands supreme, resulting in an engaging listen which flows from high bpm assaults to brief respites of mid-paced atmospherics. The release sounds surprisingly organic given its low DR, and its truncated runtime allows it to entertain before ear fatigue sets in.

As for the meal on offer, what awaits is a generous offering of Bolt Thrower with garnishes via a smorgasbord of dalliances with other stylings. “Beasley Meth Merchants” rocks pit-igniting rapid chugs and simple but effective drum rhythms in the spirit of classic Vader, while “Resinous Drip of Decay” flirts with Incantation atmosphere. Nods to bands as divergent as Carcass and Demilich (“Disolved in Lye”) transition into moments that recall the chuggiest thuggiest moments of Skinless (appropriate given the heavy amount of samples) while working solos which are used more as moody set-pieces than opportunities for fretboard heroics. Last Retch have concocted an album that calls to the leaders of old and does their best to fill the footsteps of such giants.

Naturally, such a tall order has its stumbling blocks, though there’s hardly anything sabotaging the album as a whole. The samples do a good job breaking up the carnage, but some have obnoxious vocal filters, which makes them grate more than enhance the music, with “Dissecting the Leper” being the worst offender.1 The strength of Abject Cruelty is more in its composition than the technicality of its performances. Title track “Abject Cruelty” sports one of my favorite riffs I’ve heard in years as a centerpiece for the song, but the half-time verses can’t quite keep up the menace in the delivery. This isn’t to imply the band are poor in their instruments by any means, but they clearly have a vision for grand and epic death which is grazed more often than it’s grasped. They have the mood and the individual riffs down to a science, but a push to challenge themselves a bit in the technicality will give the full product the shot in the arm it needs to be in contention for the modern-day death giants of the world.

Nevertheless, the majority of Abject Cruelty is a good take on what I want out of the slightly crustier side of modern death metal. It’s succinct, every song has at least one riff worthy of living room moshing, the production is fat, and the tone violent. Last Retch is a good band, and this album is a good album with some moments of genuine greatness. During my listens, I found myself many times thinking “this would probably sound fantastic in a live setting,” and for music as cathartic and energetic as this, that is an important impression. If you’re on the quest to eradicate the kindness in your life and have a good time doing it, there’s plenty of cruelty to go around waiting for you here…

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Time to Kill Records
Website: Album Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: September 26th, 2025

#2025 #30 #AbjectCruelty #BoltThrower #CanadianMetal #Carcass #DeathMetal #Demilich #Gutless #Incantation #LastRetch #Review #Reviews #Sep25 #Skinless #TimeToKillRecords #Vader

#SEP25 || #Efemerides Luisa Cáceres Díaz de Arismendi nació el 25 de septiembre de 1799.

#fanb
#ceofanb
#ceofanbvzla
#patria
#venezuela
#solounidosvenceremos
#elesequiboesnuestro
#integraresvencer
#ejercito_ve