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There are some decent sounding hooks/melodies inside Affliction Vortex, but they are very tricky to find since they are interspersed in between some painfully generic gothic doom metal. Dawn of Solace seem to be stuck in a creative divot where every track on this record uses the same tonal center and similar tempo. I would imagine that listening to this from top-to-bottom would be an absolute chore. When taking the album apart, the promotional singles of "Fortress" and "Invitation" were solid, but when thrown into the gauntlet, they lose much of their splendor. Even in comparison to recent death doom/gothic doom albums I've reviewed in recent memory, they all seemed to have some kind of unique flare to them; whether that be the bands overall sound, or they liked to play around with styles between the individual tracks. Dawn of Solace have none of this and it hurts Affliction Vortex in a big way.

Best Songs: Fortress, Into the Light, Invitation

To me, I liken a good doom record to the looming threat of a thunderstorm. The smell of that electricity in the air that crackles along your nasal passages, causing your ears to strain in the distance for that first rumble of thunder or have you reach for the light switch to plunge the room into darkness so your eyes can catch that first flash of lightning. This record gives me that vibe. It is not that I am expecting a full-blown thunderstorm experience from the record, far from it. Grief’s Internal Flower holds me in that pensive, excited and anticipatory state nicely. Whilst it would be a push to call it the calm before the storm, it is still an enjoyable experience for the looming presence it creates. Abated by the almost hushed, monotone of Cottrell’s vocals layered like pasta sheets in a fuzzy lasagne the album lulls me a little, giving a false sense of security. Then, on the strike of a drum or the dancing melody of a lead, the sky lights up in the distance. A big, bold wall of sheet lightning makes its appearance known and I switch my focus to the rumble of some thunder from the bass or rhythm section overall.

Tracks like ‘Tanngrisnir’ open big and loud yet possess some regimented nature in the tightness of the bands sound still. It is not necessarily a catchy record in the strictest sense of the term, yet the head is banging, and the foot is stomping along to the funereal death march of the drums and the monolithic chug of the guitars. It is an infectious sound to my ears at least, the competency of the artists in a style of music that feels inherently laid-back carries a devoted level of intensity still. The Electric Wizard influence is strong, unavoidable in fact. But it is such a genuine representation of that sound that I cannot help but lap it up.

Having recently discovered Cottrell’s solo work (which debuted the same year as this record), I am a fan of her non-metal stuff. However, the ballad, ‘Sparrow’ does very little for me here. It is well positioned in the album, giving a change of pace in the middle of the record but I am so caught up in all this thick doomy goodness that I find it an unnecessary distraction almost. Of course, by this point we are shaping up for the run into the album’s conclusion. Two lengthy tracks await us, with both clocking in at over fourteen-minutes. ‘Hesperus’ may have a glacial pace to it, but it is so harrowing in its delivery that it just would not work in a shortened format. As a track, it does shift restlessly at times and the way it just cuts off in full flow at the end is baffling to me. ‘Kingfisher’ is borderline a stretch too far for me at this point. There’s just too much to process at the back end of the album with these two tracks laid side-by-side in the running order. Whilst there are obvious differences between the two tracks from a structural perspective, it is still two massive tracks backloaded onto the album together.

In isolation, even on separate albums if not at least at opposite ends of this one, the tracks are not poor. However, they do not complement each other well. Acoustic album closer, ‘Aition’ serves some soothing purpose almost by proxy, but I sense that closing the album with ‘Hesperus’ is a missed trick unfortunately.  So a mixed bag in all for me on this one, still undeniably well performed and well written, even though the arrangement does leave a lot to be desired overall. 

I am a big fan of this Parma five-piece and was stoked to see they had a new album out, with minimal fanfare from the metal world, a long six years since previous offering "The Wolves of Thelema". Their brand of doom metal sits smack-bang between the stoner and the epic, with a wide streak of occult psychedelia, in the vein of The Devil's Blood, running through it's dark heart.

They have a quite distinctive sound, chiefly down to mainman Dorian Bones' vocals which come on like a mixture of the gothic flavour of Paradise Lost's Nick Holmes and the expansive epicness of a Robert Lowe. Over the previous decade and a half they have also become exceedingly proficient at writing more memorable, uptempo doomy riffs that are likely to be rolling around your head for hours after the record stops spinning. The rhythm section is exceedingly solid, with both drummer Mike De Chirico and bassist Henry Bones solidly and unshowily driving the tracks along and providing a solid foundation on which everything else is built.

The opening one-two of the punchy and catchy "Scarlet Love" and the slower and doomier "Aiwass Calling" sees the album kick off in fine style with two of the album's strongest numbers. Most of the tracks are mid-paced affairs, but the band do include a couple of slower, more doom-laden numbers with the aforementioned "Aiwass Calling" and the penultimate "Fire Walk With Me" being well-placed to prevent the album from sounding too samey. I feel there is a bit of a drop-off in the middle, though, with side one closer "Antikristos" and side two opener "Beyond Daath" not really hitting the spot for me. "Antikristos" feels like the band are fishing to catch the Jex Thoth / Devil's Blood crowd and "Beyond Daath", despite having a decent riff, leans too much into the occult theatrics vocally. Luckily things pick up with the album's doomiest (and my favourite) track "Fire Walk With Me" imparting a bit of class before closer "Interstellar Snakes of Gold" rounds things out with a melodic chorus and nice riff.

As much as I enjoyed Spiritus, I find myself being reluctant to impart a top-tier score. The main reason for this is the lack of adventure the band display, particularly in the restraint with which the guitar leads are deployed and their willingness to stick to the same old formula which has, admittedly, served them very well over the years. I think the album is lacking a really good solo or two with the leads mainly used to add melody over the riffs when I couldn't help feeling that on a couple of occasions they could have really let rip, but feel constrained by the tight discipline of the songwriting. The closing section of the aforementioned "Fire Walk With Me" is the only really extensive solo and even that feels like it is being held in check when it should howl and soar.

In truth, I don't need a band to constantly be pushing the envelope and redefining themselves for me to enjoy them, but sometimes they can be found sitting just a little bit too comfortably and I feel like that about Caronte at this point in their career. There are some good tracks here, but it feels to me like there is a little too much filler too with "Antikristos", "Beyond Daath" and "Interstellar Snakes of Gold" almost feeling like a band going through the motions and I hate saying this about a band I enjoy as much as I do Caronte.

I haven't listened to a whole lot from L.A.'s 16, but what I have, I have always found to be angry and confrontational, from a band railing at the world, their relationships and even themselves. Guides for the Misguided starts off in much the same vein with a couple of quick-tempo efforts, Bobby Ferry's anguished and angsty shouting almost making me suspect that they are trying to grab the attention of the metalcore crowd and the band coming off as the result of a cross-pollination of Crowbar and Converge.

However, things soon take a turn down a different alley with third track, "Blood Atonement Blues". Starting with a piano intro that is rapidly swamped by a really nice bluesy, howling lead. The track then turns down an unexpected gothic metal sidestreet, complete with a catchy chorus which isn't as good as the rest of the track, although that howling guitar lead does make a very welcome return. At this point I must admit I was now a bit thrown off track, thinking I knew what I was getting here, but subsequently having those expectations trashed. "Fortress of Hate" is a groovier slab of sludge metal that I would, once more, associate more with Crowbar than I would -16-. This groovier approach and the deployment of generally more catchy choruses continues with "Proudly Damned" and especially "Fire and Brimstone Inc" which has one of those choruses that you just can't shift from your head.

I am then even more confounded by "Desperation Angel" which sounds like a sludge metal track that has been written by Dave Grohl and, even though it is more aggressive-sounding than most of the preceeding tracks with the harsh vocals coming back to the fore at last, it just doesn't quite hit hard enough for my liking. In fact it isn't until "Resurrection Day" that I get the anger and visciousness that I turn to a -16- album for, although the track is a little bit patchy in truth. This is followed, though, by the quite short "Give Thanks and Praises" which has much more of a hardcore feel and so is a better representation of what I personally look for from the band and which, despite it's brevity, is probably my favourite track. Admittedly the album does finish more strongly with "Give Thanks" being followed by the hulking "Kick Out the Chair".

In conclusion, "Guides for the Misguided" probably threw more curve balls at me than I was expecting. This may not be entirely out of character as this is only the third album I have heard from the band, but it does seem at odds with what I have heard previously, not with a massive departure exactly, but it feels like an album from a band toning down their aggressive tendencies in order to garner wider acceptance. Look, this is not a bad album and has some fine moments, it may turn out that this is one hell of a grower and I may look back in future days perplexed at my intital reactions, but at this moment in time I am a little disappointed that -16- have seemingly watered-down their venom.

Fer de Lance present a problem for me in that they play a with very traditional heavy metal sound when approaching their music. Of course, I publicly left that sound behind a long time ago when exiting The Guardians clan. There are times when listening to Fires on the Mountainside when I begin to doubt its doom metal credentials altogether if I am honest. Yet at the same time, there is such quality to this record that I cannot help but put aside my dissatisfaction and be drawn into the joys of the record. I have seen their sound described as folk-prog in some reviews as well as mention of blackened tinges in others. I can see both most definitely, based on this record at least. Influences aside, it is easy for me to appreciate the epic metal authenticity of Fer de Lance’s sound as it is a stalwart of the tracks collected here on this record. Wherever the album does tread over the seven songs presented, the listener can be left in little doubt as to where the heart of the band truly lies.

It is good to hear the Viking metal elements of Bathory protruding through in places, and with some spurts of Candlemass alongside the more modern similarities of Atlantean Kodex we are soon finding ourselves transported around the world of metal with Fires on the Mountainside. The keyboards really drive tracks like ‘Ravens Fly (Dreams of Daidalos)’ whilst soaring leads and epic yodelling vocals continue to embellish the grandeur of the sound. Vocally, I am most reminded of King Diamond. Which, given he is one of the most overrated vocalists in my metal in my book, could be considered a slur somewhat. I find the sound of the higher pitched vocals on this record to be far more endearing though and the songs to be better structured than most Mercyful Fate/King Diamond tunes I have tolerated over the years. I sense there is more than one singer on this record though (or just one with amazing range and heavy use of overlays). ‘Death Thrives (Where Walls Divide)’ is probably the best example of this great vocal display.

As tracks like ‘The Feast of Echoes’ prove, simple structures can still make epic metal. Here is a big Bathory, stomping track if ever there was one. Straight and to the point, this is one of the most memorable tracks on display here and has great longevity as a result. Should there ever be cause for me to consider revisiting some trad heavy metal then there is a good chance that this record could be the trigger for it. Yet doubt does still creep in. There is a very well-established format to Fires on the Mountainside and to some degree it does become repetitive at times. Maybe isolated to my own battles I accept, but I am kind of “epic exhausted” by the time we are getting to the final couple of tracks on the record. There’s nothing wrong with them at all, but perhaps they are a stretch too far for me still at this point of my listening habits. However, Fires on the Mountainside has still surprised me and has been kicking around my rotation list for a good few weeks as a result.

Former Ne Obliviscaris vocalist, Marc Campbell has joined forces with Virgin Black’s, Sesca Scaarba to create funeral doom outfit Spiine. Boasting none other than Lena Abé (My Dying Bride) on bass and current Opeth drummer, Waltteri Väyrynen on their debut record, Tetraptych has a lot of class involved in it. As if this star line-up was not enough, the album also features the work of late Norwegian photographer Lene Marie Fossen on the cover. The emancipated figure in the bed is Fossen herself, a lifelong anorexic who was a master of self-portraits and used her art to reflect human suffering. Fossen died in 2019.

Tetraptych then has it all it seems. Some well renowned artists in metal, a sense of grandeur in its use of orchestration, an incredibly harrowing and personal image adorning its cover and a run time of over an hour. The stage is set nicely for some funeral doom folks. And funeral doom we do indeed get. Agonisingly slow riffs and melancholic leads fester in the fetid air of album opener ‘Myroblysiia’ (yes, every song title has a double ‘I’), whilst the drums remain present but unintrusive in the background. All is shaping up nicely until around eight-and-a-half minutes into the track when some crude clicking rhythm takes hold and completely derails all the excellent work done to that point. I am unsure if this was intentional or not, but it is disorientating to say the least.

Taking the track title at its meaning (at least the correctly spelt version anyways), myroblysia is the scent that emanates from the bodies of saints. The odour of sanctity is said to come from the wounds of stigmata according to the Catholic Church. Despite the ugly interruption, this track carries that air of sanctimonious grandeur about it. Clocking in at over fifteen minutes long, it takes a couple of turns along the way, holding the interest still throughout.  That orchestration is obvious throughout the album and is sprawling in the tapestries it weaves. Building tracks subtly alongside Campbell’s varied guttural and raspy vocals, the arrangement of the instruments feels very well thought through. There is plenty of space to be used and the urge perhaps to fill all of it is thankfully resisted. At the heart of Tetraptych is a fathomless void that mere mortals cannot fulfil. Whilst its four panels are very clearly framed (four tracks), there are expanses around each of them that can only resonate with the echoes of curses. Lost in all this sadly is Abé, which seems a waste.

The performance of Väyrynen needs noting though. He plays a clever and important part on the record. I doubt anyone else could have made such a measured performance without losing overall presence. His accomplished, patient and thoughtful style is what allows the atmospheres to really shine without being overshadowed by them at the same time. Tracks like ‘Glaciial’ just simply would not work without him. At the very core of the Spiine sound though are the cavernous vocals of Marc Campbell. The attack of the opening of ‘Oubliiete’ is led by his explosive gurns and the thick atmosphere that ensues sees his deathly rasp ride atop of it. When combined with the crushing riffs of Sesca the results are phenomenal, if not always sustained for long enough for my liking.  As you would expect from a funeral doom release, Tetraptych is a punishing and challenging listen. It rewards in abundance also, especially once tracks have built into their full flow. It is a lot still for me to take in across one sitting, and I do find that splitting the record in half as two separate listens does increase my enjoyment of the album more. Fans of Evoken and Loss, should find lots to enjoy here.

2025 has seen me really stretch my legs in The Fallen clan for the first time. According to my spreadsheet I have hammered through ninety-four releases from this year alone. Ranging from sludge through to death/doom metal, there’s a healthy section of doom metal in there also. The two most under-represented sub-genres are clearly drone (not my bag) and gothic metal. The latter category has seen CoF make a couple of splashes in the pool before dropping out of rotation quickly enough, and to be honest there’s been little of anything else that way inclined that I have picked up on. A couple of weeks ago, that changed with the discovery of the bold artwork that adorns the cover of the sophomore release from San Antonio band, Marble Orchard.

The band have a dramatic logo, dressed in gothic font, much like the album title. Then we have the just as dramatic artwork, with its bold use of red against a backdrop of grey and black. Ruminations of Ruin certainly grabs the attention visually in the first instance at last. Musically, the bands sound fits the logo and artwork perfectly. Dripping with Type O’ Negative style vocals and littered with Swallow the Sun and My Dying Bride musings, it is soon clear that no curved balls are being served here. The vocals have been an on and off challenge for me in all honesty, and right now (for this review at least) I am onboard with their bellicose nature. They do sound a bit goofy at times still, yet for most of my listens through they have certainly settled nicely with everything else I am hearing.

It is hard still to not get too drawn into them ahead of the other activity that is being performed alongside them. The guitar sound is thankfully prominent also which does give opportunity to tear your ears away from the vocals for a few sections of each track. The riffs are big and crunchy, and the leads are sorrowful forays, leaden with melancholy as we would expect. The percussion does appear to have some challenges with the mix (what is going on with that jangling noise that intermittently appears on tracks, or is that just me?), but still the drum work is commanding. The organ on tracks like ‘Anti-Mirth (Anhedonia)’ adds lashings of atmospheres and that taught sounding bass also helps here.

The main problem I have with Ruminations of Ruin is that it is just too long. The intro track is instrumental and takes forever to get through and then another two instrumentals at nearly a minute each at later points in the tracklisting don’t help with this sense of design triumphing over content a little. I get the album is a bold undertaking (I have called out all the signs of this already in the review), but it does seem that the band have gotten a little carried away with themselves here, and a trim would have helped. That having been said, there is still much to enjoy on the record. However, it has taken more than few listens to bed in, so it is not an immediate type of a record for me.

I have been following Mares of Thrace for a while now, since their 2012 album The Pilgrimage in fact and I was a big fan of previous album The Exile, so I was looking forward to this one. The Loss is essentially a concept album dealing with the five stages of grief, a theme eminently suited to the band's desperate and anguished version of sludge metal.

Band mainstay, guitarist / vocalist Thérèse Lanz has always had a striking vocal approach, maintaining levels of aggression many can only futilely hope to achieve, but here on The Loss she has ascended to a whole new level of vocal anguish and fury, imparting additional heft to the album's concept of grief and loss. Production-wise, since Casey Rogers jumped on board as musician and engineer / producer the band have never sounded better with his production work increasing the depth and basic heaviness of their sound, adding real weight to their already existing nihilistic aggression. The riffs are very good and are rendered crushingly heavy by Rogers' work behind the desk with a huge bottom end which also doesn't appear to flatten out the upper registers or compromise Thérèse's anhuished shrieks or wails.

The instrumentation and songwriting has once more improved with The Loss taking on aspects of atmospheric sludge, often combining the hulking, atmospheric layering of Neurosis with the visceral rawness of Eyehategod which has the effect on the listener of being bowed by crushing weight whilst being sharply stabbed with stinging barbs. The album is instrumentally coherent, yet never becomes samey with each track having a feel of its own, in keeping with the theme of each track covering a different stage of the grieving process.

I find an honesty and openness in Mares of Thrace's releases that you don't necessarily encounter that often, with Thérèse's vocals in particular giving the impression that she probably has an intimate knowledge of this latest album's concept. But not only that, she also has the vocal expressiveness to be able to impart a convincing taste of the awful and debilitating effects of dealing with such an emotionally charged subject. This is the kind of release on which the Fallen thrives and, despite the emotionally challenging material, this is a genuinely impressive and relevant addition to the clan's canon and if this is a just world it will see the duo gain much wider acclaim.

A solid "A" grade from me

Marianas Rest come across my review desk this week with their third studio album from 2021 and you would be forgiven if you expected it to be more the same death doom metal. The tempos are slow and brooding, but they never feel like they are wasting the listeners time, production is very impressive and the vocals are quite diverse in their range. The songwriting can feel a bit lacking at times since doom metal at the best of times is about atmosphere rather than driving melodies, but that can be excused for the albums post-metal textures that peak their head in from time-to-time. The Agalloch/Rosetta style of atmospheric doom/sludge metal is usually a big sell for me and here it is no exception, I just wish that Marianas Rest could have included a few more memorable riffs or vocal lines into these songs instead of relying on atmosphere to carry them home.

Best Songs: Glow from the Edge, Sacrificial, Fata Morgana, Advent of Nihilism

My enjoyment of Hexvessel’s last offering, Polar Veil was based on the clever combinations that weaved through each song. This tapestry of mysterious atmospheres, doomy aesthetics and blackened leanings has not only been retained on Nocturne, but the intensity of these elements has been increased. Hexvessel pick up on album number six right from where they left off last time. It is a stronger sounding record from the off, exhibiting a boldness about the brevity of the songwriting as we immediately roll into two eight-minute plus length tracks following a succinct intro track. It is also obvious from the beginning of the record that the blackened edges are more present than I recall them being on Polar Veil. This creeping iciness tempers the more brazen elements of the record. Where we get a little too folk-laden (‘A Dark & Graceful Wilderness’) or dreamy even (‘Phoebus’), the are some black metal droplets that drop into the stillness of the water and immediately disperse with a subtle yet audible disruption.

The band achieve atmospheric black metal heights during ‘A Dark & Graceful Wilderness’, those chiming keys overlayed atop the grim riffs hit with maximum effect. Their ability to combine seemingly opposing elements is borne out by the plethora of instruments utilised that are arranged to work so well together. The piano that opens Nocturne has no place once the raging tide of ‘Sapphire Zephyrs’ kicks in. Yet the slow of pace the track takes for the chorus sees the scathing riffage no less offensive in delivery, just well-tempered by the delicate vocals and background piano keys. Acoustically serene strings give us a further chapter to this song. Creating such a triumphant track so early in the record whets the appetite for what comes next on the record.

Bristling with spiritual transcendence and possessing a soothing and calming capacity to act as a balm to the more aggressive sections, Nocturne is a real exploratory record that all feels well anchored to the central theme that runs through the record of a connection to nature and our surroundings in general. Lavished with choral elements like on ‘Inward Landscapes’ there is a sense of a near-constant evolving to the record as these new parameters are set, and ethereal elements are introduced. The songwriting seems to suggest that although it is a nebulous concept, the world around us, our immediate earthly surroundings, offer opportunity to connect to a more mystical and basic form of existence.

Hexvessel sound committed to this record and the themes it explores. There is obvious passion behind the music which is well played throughout. Without being able to describe the guitars as luscious exactly, there is a moreish quality to them still. I never want the beauty of ‘Spirit Masked Wolf’ to end as it rises to seemingly unfathomable heights of serenity. The doomier elements of the album are delivered thoughtfully, applying a cloak of subtle atmosphere and more sluggish pacing when deployed. I am struggling to find fault overall with Nocturne and my reticence to give it a full five star rating is more due to the feeling to need to spend more time with it, as opposed to any individual fault I can place my finger on.

De toorn is a two-track EP running for 25 minutes and is the first of two EPs already released this year by the belgian atmospheric sludge band. Both tracks follow a very similar path, starting off in a very gentle, minimalist manner. The opener "Heden" begins with soft, heartbeat-like drumbeats and a murmuring bassline interjected with gentle guitar strumming and vocalist Colin Van Eeckhout quietly intoning the lyrics with a spoken word delivery. We all know this quiet calm cannot last and that it is just a matter of time until the wave comes crashing in. That it takes until the final quarter of the track for it to happen, just as you start to wonder if this is not the track you thought it was, it almost takes you by surprise. Van Eeckhout goes into full desperate, Burzum-like shrieking mode as the heaving tsunami riff hits and the shuddering climax is brought to fruition. Heden is definitely a case of the payoff being worthy of the build-up and is a decent, if not exactly unpredictable piece of atmo-sludge songwriting.

The problem for me is that they then try to pull off exactly the same trick with the second track, the EPs title track. This time the quiet calm, post-rock led extended intro is provided by a jangling guitar and snare beat with the vocals again pretty much being spoken word. The climax this time around hits at the two-thirds in mark and takes a very similar form to the opener. Whilst the atmospherics on both tracks are exceedingly well delivered and they are obviously very comfortable with both their instruments and songwriting technique, the similarity of the two tracks feels almost a little lazy and too comfortable for a band who have delivered much more variety in the past. Look, these guys are good, and both these tracks are too, but I expected a bit more from such a talented bunch.

In all honesty, I have never really gotten along with stoner. The concept of stoner rock vs stoner metal still confuses me as I never find the (limited) stoner that I have listened to venture far enough into metal to justify the tag. Accepting that I am formulating this opinion on a minority listening experience, I chose to look at stoner releases in my 2025 summary of The Fallen just as I would sludge, trad doom or death doom (drone can fuck off). Still, I approached Get Well Soon with a “get this over with” mentality. What began as a mere exercise to trim down the to do list of ever-growing releases this year, soon became a much cooler undertaking than I first imagined.

Clearly, there is a very virulent strain of hard rock running through the hazy, stoner vibes of Lo-Pan’s sound. It is not delivered in a mainstream manner though, which makes it an interesting style of rock to listen to. Whilst the stoner elements assist in that, the driving rhythms don’t follow a particularly linear or predictable narrative. This is on occasion detrimental to my enjoyment of the record. ‘Rogue Wave’ seems disjointed as opposed to oddly entertaining and the following track ‘Harpers Ferry’ develops a laboured edge to the music as it appears to slow to allow the vocals to catch up; it is almost as if they wrote too many words on the lyric sheet at times.

I have little in the way of genuine stoner influences to be able to call them out here, but I do hear elements of Chevelle in the rolling riffs. At the same time, the structure of the tracks, with their bounding yet still balanced nature gives me Helmet vibes. The tuneful yet edgy vocals belie perhaps the fact that they are singing about topical and confrontational themes. Lo-Pan sings about real world issues, talking about them against a backdrop of seemingly benign hard rock tunes. This tempering process works well; it negates the sense that the messaging is overtly preachy but still lets the grown up have the necessary focus. You can nod along and tap your foot in time to the music whilst contemplating the message behind the lyrics, all done without the need for rampant or juvenile incitement of violence as a response to the ills of the world. In short, Lo-Pan lets the music do the talking.

Percussively powerful without ever becoming overbearing, the solid drums complement the rest of the instrumentation well. Perhaps except for the bass, the repertoire of instruments all gets good representation in the mix. Whilst I cannot go as far as to call the album catchy, it lingers on the brain after the event. I find bits of it playing distantly in my head in the hours or days after the last listen and this makes me understand that there is perhaps still some growth to happen with Get Well Soon. For now, the record sits in my solid score range. A side note has been made for a review of the review in the coming weeks and months though.

I have never been the biggest consumer of funeral doom metal. In the few ventures into this troubling subgenre, I’ve discovered that “creating good music” becomes a secondary feature and rather focuses on oppressive atmosphere. Sometimes that atmosphere can be enough to make serviceable, if not great, records. But often, they border on the line of stale drone that carries on far too long for their own sake.

I have made an attempt this year to become more cultured in subgenres (clans) of metal I normally would ignore or approach in bad faith. One such clan is The Fallen. And even though the music I’ve heard may be unremarkable (Deathwhite, Frayle, Decembre Noir and Hanging Garden), it still left me wanting more. I grow tired of the same death-doom/gothic sound and am desperate for a band to make me feel hopeless and abandoned like classic Ahab releases. (while still being pleasant to listen to of course!)

Well allow me to introduce Red Moon Architect. This band has been active for quite a while but never getting much in the way of recognition. Hailing from Finland, the instrumental backdrop of October Decay is heavily reminiscent of Swallow the Sun; heck, the album cover had me immediately thinking of The Morning Never Came. That presumption came crashing down in record time as the first isolating guitar riff began “Frozen Tomb” and the introduction of harsh death growls that are so distorted it starts to sound less like words and syllables and just becomes cries of agony. Now, if the whole album used these vocals, it’d probably be a hard sell, but complimenting it with wonderful female cleans was a breath of fresh air.

What October Decay does well is in the variety. The album starts off very melodic with lots of female vocals, occasional male harsh interjections, and (relatively speaking) busier guitar leads. That seems to change after “Decay of Emotions” and the run of “In Silence” until the album concludes with “First of October” is much heavier in the male vocals, guitar solos become sparser and use space to painstaking effect, and a heavier emphasis on string orchestration. Like an album such as The Call of the Wretched Sea, the change of pace, structure and instrumentation leave October Decay feeling like a sinking ship as the isolation of the guitar notes and percussion hits compresses you further and further towards the bottom.

Now I must admit that that Funeral Doom is not my thing, if that isn’t obvious by now. October Decay does not sound like an Esoteric or Bell Witch album. This is much closer to bands like Saturnus or Shape of Despair; still very much in the Death Doom category, but slower tempos, longer songs and dreary atmosphere bring it closer to the grave. Sinking to the bottom of the ocean have never felt so beautiful.

Best Songs: Frozen Tomb, Decay of Emotions, In Silence, First of October

I find it difficult to believe that Ufomammut isn't a much more well known sludge band, especially considering that they're absolutely perfect for the popular Fallen clan on Metal Academy.  Idolum was the first Ufomammut album I ever heard, if I recall correctly, and it's one of those few albums that sent my mental and metal spirits through a surprisingly comforting black hole of soul-destroying euphoria.  Everything is in total harmony, even the lenghty drone track at the end, which IMO succeeds in its attempts at bringing out atmosphere with length where the final track of Filosofem failed.  The best example of its incredible mind-warping powers is the gorgeous Ammonia, which reaches spiritual hieights of doom and psychedelia.  This Now the group was already as force to be reckoned with as early as the incredible Snailking, but this album ripped Snailking in half.  I'm glad this album at least made it to a Clan Challenge List.

Themed around the Kubler-Ross model (the five stages of grief), Mares of Thrace fourth album is an uncomfortable listen for anyone who has endured any kind of loss. Be that the death of a loved one, the breakdown of a relationship or the end of a friendship, The Loss feels multi-faceted in its possible applications for its listeners. Playing as a multitude of elements, ranging from noise rock through to sludge and on into acoustic passages, MoT keep the attention with this array of seemingly transparent yet emotionally heavy collection of tracks.

Previously unknown to me until this past week, the duo of Thérèse Lanz and Casey Rogers have made an impact immediately in my world. Whilst the tracks are charges with a jarring and lumbering intensity, the riffs do not rely on simple heaviness for impact. They have an almost loose quality to them, played as if in organic creation in some jam session, their blend of dark rock ‘n roll adding an interesting edge to proceedings. Similarly, the drums follow an uncomplicated path. Sat just right in the mix, they undertake the perfect supporting role. Operating just under the fuzzy haze of the strings they are a solid foundation for the bashing bleakness of The Loss.

The star of the show though is most definitely the vocals. As you would expect from my description of the album thus far, the vocals of Thérèse are not pretty. They are incredibly versatile in the reactions they can invoke in the listener, however. For me they mirror frustration, desperation, unfathomable sorrow, scathing fury and stinging vitriol across the nine songs that make up the record. At times they do bring tears to my eyes, such is the level of pleading futility that is on display on some songs. It feels like they are on occasion, seeking refrain from the relentless cycle of grief that I so brilliantly exemplified by the music. I am no expert of the Kubler-Ross model, but it feels like the songs are well researched and as a result are performed in a legitimate and convincing way.

The album highlight for me is penultimate track, ‘The Fifth Stage: Depression’. Anyone with any experience I would imagine would find this track a valid exploration of the horrible affliction. Here, the desperation borders on being demented. The utter, all-consuming sense of being completely overwhelmed and rendered dysfunctional by the illness is exhibited in HD on this track. You can hear the vulnerability, the rawness of losing someone and the agonising disintegration of your reality at the same time.

MoT have the uncanny ability to make their songs sound as the track titles suggest they should. ‘Complicated Grief’ has an air of challenge to it, for example. Meanwhile, shock, anger, denial and even acceptance all get personified in the corresponding track performances. The Loss is (ironically) an album that gives me so much. Possibly an early contender for album of the year, it has connected with me so instantly and so effortlessly. It is one of those albums that I am beyond being merely entertained by, I am genuinely grateful to have heard it.

I had a quick look to see if I had encountered Structure's main man, Bram Bijlhout, before and the only time our paths have crossed was Officium Triste's 2013 album, Mors Viri, which I honestly can't remember listening to and which I rated a measly two-and-a-half stars, so not an auspicious start then. However, whether my long forgotten score is an accurate reflection of Mors Viri's quality or not, one of us has changed because I honestly cannot express how utterly affecting and emotional I found Heritage to be. This may sound a bit odd considering Pim Blankenstein uses the guttural growls of extreme metal and the ponderous riffs are huge, crushing affairs, but there is also a melancholy yearning oozing out from under that crushing weight which is often accentuated by lighter instrumental moments.

Heritage actually straddles the line between death doom and funeral doom, allowing for well-executed tempo variations that ensures the generally medium-length tracks don't succumb to saminess. The riffs are melodic and memorable in the main, and really do strike an impressive balance between musical and emotional weight, providing the discerning metalhead with more than enough heaviness to satisfy their craving whilst simultaneously tugging at their heartstrings. The lead work often soars above the miasma created by the riffs, rhythm section and guttural growling like a released spirit taking its leave of the soul-crushing grind of earthbound existence, shrieving itself of its earthly cares and reaching towards its personal nirvana.

I haven't sat down with a lyric sheet, so I don't know what the philosophy behind Heritage is, but for some reason I can't help but feel uplifted and hopeful both whilst and after listening to it, as if it is saying, no matter how hard and heavy things may be, ultimately everything will be OK. This may be fanciful on my part, and yes, it is steeped in melancholy and a gruelling weight, but there is a ray of something more at the heart of the album that genuinely makes me feel good and that is something that I have found in very short supply in recent times. I am exceedingly impressed and it will take a fucking great record to beat this to my AOTY for 2025.

Way back in 2007 or so (damn, that’s nearly 20 years ago), I was lurking on a doom metal forum associated with Southern Lord: mainly for discussions and announcements for new albums. There were a number of musicians on that site who discussed their new projects. One such person was Blake Green who announced his first release as a duo with Brittany McConnel under the name of Pussygutt – a doom-laden drone metal band. In 2010, the multi-instrumentalist duo changed their name to Wolvserpent, Perigaea Antahkarana is their second full-length album.

Bookended with nature recordings of wind, a fire crackling and cawing crows, this is no one-paced drone metal release. Yes, we have big repetitive droning guitar riffs, pounding drums and synth and droning violin layers. But we also have: massive doom/stoner riffs, post-rock style ethereal violin build ups akin to Godspeed You! Black Emperor leading into an atmospheric back metal sound; guttural funeral doom style vocals from Blake and ethereal dark folk style chanting from Brittany. Layers of sound that provide a truly immersive experience. I’m no musician, but I would imagine pulling together diverse influences into a truly cohesive work is no easy task, but the duo do this seamlessly.

I see lots of reviews describing the sound as dark and its association with winter, but to me this is both lush and bleak, light and dark, and this was the perfect album for this glorious summers day.

A drone metal album? I guess, but this contains a whole lot more. Wonderful

Ex-Officium Triste guitarist, Bram Bijlhout raids his old band for assistance as he drafts in Pim Blankenstein to deliver vocals on his debut full length under his solo outfit, Structure. Not being familiar with Officium Triste at all, I cannot say how much similarity there is here between the two acts. Plus, I do not think it would be best use of the review either, especially given the obvious quality of Heritage. As a standalone, atmospheric doom/death metal act, Structure is a strong offering. How we got here is not necessarily as important as enjoying what we have got here. Heritage is a fine debut album, one that sounds like it has been put together by established artists with a strong ear for immersive compositions that the listener can absorb as opposed to just listen to.

In attempting to put some of the above into coherent reference to parts of the album, one’s attention is immediately drawn to the rich melodies of the guitar that soar alongside the intense weight of the riffs that you would expect to hear on any doom death release. Adopting an almost funeral doom depth at times, the guitars go for the very depths of the sound at times, yet they also create big sounding, almost rock-esque riffs on other occasions. ‘What We Have Lost’ showcases this perfectly. Unafraid to take off into more mid-paced territory, this track develops into much more than standard doom death fare would normally permit. This early, promising trend continues across all of Heritage I am pleased to report, resulting in a very fulfilling experience. Whilst it most certainly is doom death at its core, this is a record that holds no trepidation for expansive compositions.

Clearly well-produced, the sound on the album is big, surrounding the listener in all the glorious tropes of the instrumentation present here. Those keyboards are elevating and elegant, adding distinct majesty to the darkness, uniting with the melancholy of the guitar perfectly. Both elements do really work well in tandem with one another, the guitar comes out with the upper hand still though, maintaining prevalence throughout much of the album. As a reference point, I am reminded often of Shape of Despair when listening to Heritage, such are the acute levels of melancholy and the sense of the sheer distance that is created in the atmospherics. At times I would go further and say there’s a bit of Bell Witch present here also. The dramatic opening to album closer ‘Until the Last gasp’ lives up to this comparison for sure.

If I were being super-critical, I would be asking for a little more from the drums, which do sound a little timid at times. Just the slightest of an increase in space in the mix would have afforded them a greater presence. Whilst this measure of component parts does allow for the focus on the guitars and vocals, it does diminish some of the power behind tracks such as ‘The Sadness of Everyday Life’. There is almost too much of a distance between them and the rest of proceedings. It is a minor compliant however on an album that is a consistent, intriguing and above all else immersive experience end-to-end.

Campbell Kneale is a pivotal figure in the New Zealand drone/noise scene and has released numerous albums under the Birchville Cat Motel and Our Love Will Destroy the World monickers. Black Boned Angel is his drone metal trio. Verdun is the bands fourth full length album that takes on providing a soundtrack the longest and most devastating battle in World War 1.

Verdun is a single 50+ minute song split into 3 distinct parts (the 3 parts are available on the CD and digital release, the vinyl version contained the first and the third movement). Part 1 (Prayer Sodden Holes) has a sombre, ominous sound with repetitive riffs and drums underlayered with feedback that leads into a brief respite during the mellow(er) part 2 (Tears Strike the Mile High Gong) before the terrifying climax of looped choirs and a cacophony of noise, feedback and the sound of war of part 3 (Creeping Barrage). It’s the sound of desolation, hopelessness, anticipation, terror and fear.

Black Boned Angel are no more. In an interview on the inarguable, Kneale stated that “The grand-scale, crushing, sadness that is plastered all over those records was actually real for me and I can't live that way anymore.” And you can hear it all on Verdun – my favourite drone metal album.

NOLA Sludge Masters Crowbar play down-tuned crushing riffs and sing about the lows of life. They are incredibly consistent in terms of sound and theme, so if you've heard Crowbar this is more of the same. This album contains a truckload of great songs, with "High Rate Extinction", "All I Had (I Gave)", "Will that Never Dies", a cover of Led Zepplin's "No Quarter", "Existence is Punishment", and "I Have Failed" standing slightly above the other very good tracks.

Crowbar is what I would describe as "Survivor" music-often times the lyrics are discussing the internal thoughts of person battling some kind of immense personal obstacle, be that depression, addiction, anxiety, self-doubt, etc. What makes it special is that while the lyrics are often downer in nature, the music symbolizes the strength to survive these situations. I use the word survive rather than overcome because it's an important distinction, whereas another band or artist would make the song about overcoming a hardship, or defeating a problem, Crowbar acknowledge that sometimes you don't overcome, sometimes you just deal, and sometimes you even fail-but this does not make a weak man, and it's in that message that Crowbar becomes something much more real, and therefore much more inspirational than the fairy-tale another artist might present. You put Crowbar on when you're going through hell. Crowbar is strength in sonic form.

If you've heard Crowbar before, then you know what you are getting here, it's NOLA sludge metal, and I would echo what I wrote in my review of Symmetry in Black. Crowbar write slow impossibly hefty riffs and sing about dealing with lows in life. The formula is incredibly consistent, and it's sublime music for weight lifting. This album is notable for containing "Planets Collide" which is considered by many to be the bands best song to date. However, for me it's all about "To Carry the Load". "...And Suffer as One", "It's all in the Gravity", and "New Man Born" are also bangers, but every track is great. Put this on when you need to get through some hard times, or just simply beat your current bench press max!

This was a pretty big thing when it came out twenty-odd years ago and Mastodon were touted all over the metal mags as the next big thing, except that, unlike most of the early 2000s metal press darlings, their music didn't suck. They took the abrasive anger and aggression of sludge metal and steerred it in a progressive direction, which gave it a much more technical edge. At this stage, this isn't fully blown progressive metal, it is still identifiably sludge metal with a guitar sound well familiar to fans of bands like Crowbar and the angry, shouted, hardcore-derived vocals we are used to. Yet, I am fairly sure, that sludge metal concept albums were fairly rare, unless they were about the misery and desperation of a life of drug addiction and poverty, certainly I can't recall any that were based on classic literature such as Herman Melville's Moby Dick, which is exactly what Leviathan is. Sum total is an intelligent, technically proficient, muscular and aggressive-sounding, remarkably ambitiously-written entry into sludge metal history that ultimately heralded in a new era for the genre, but which has rarely been bettered.

Cape Fear North Carolina's Weedeater, are one of my favorite bands, because they tap into a sort of rural anger that no other band captures quite the same way. This is not polished refined music, or high art of any kind. This taps into something more visceral. I'm a 36 year old man at the time of this writing, soon to be 37, and mostly happy with where I'm at in life, but there was once an extremely angry young man on a Nebraska Cattle farm who saw a lot of things, and had some feelings about it. Weedeater is the band to speak to that young man-again they simply understand rural frustration, and it comes through as the secret sauce to their formula. The formula is to take a given southern rock song, strip away anything finesse, technical, or pretty about it, distilling the raw essence of the almighty riff, channel this riff through an absolute wall of distortion, fuzz, and raw percussion, and then deliver a few carefully chosen lines through "Dixie" Dave Collins. Collins sounds like a cement mixer, his voice is raw, whiskey soaked, marijuana smoked, and gravely. He also one of the greatest front men to ever do it-an angrier, more eccentric, and aggressive Ronnie Van Zant, and one of the finest gentlemen I've ever smoked cigarettes with. Again you aren't going to get anything refined with Weedeater, but I actually think Dave is an underrated lyricist (Shep might write some too)-like a country singer he isn't going to give you metaphor, or surrealism, he's going to say exactly what needs to be said and nothing more, which I think is an art in and of itself.

Example from this album:

"Wish I could be like you all the time

Blind, deaf and dumb all goddamn day

But everybody needs just a little bit of downtime

So I'll just turn my back and walk away"

It's lyrics like that I feel in my veins more so than anything Dylan-esque.
 

 Every album is consistent. I chose this one because it has some of my favorite songs on it, and it's considered to date by many to be their best offering, but I listen to their whole discography. It's probably not for everybody, but it's exactly what I need.

There's really not much I can say about this one you haven't heard before. Half the tracks are such that if you've heard Black Sabbath, you've probably already heard them. Sweet Leaf, for instance, is one of the three tracks you are guaranteed to have heard if you have ever spent any time listening to classic rock radio.
Compared to the past two releases, Master of Reality is a lot more typical. Outside of two short interludes, every song is more mundanely done in comparison to the non-traditional structures of the first two albums. It's more poppy, in the sense of being more easily digestable even if every song is solidly doom metal outside of Solitude.
There's a weird sort of love ethos going on in this album. Every song has something to do with it, but not always in a good way. Sweet Leaf talks about how much they love marijuana; After Forever talks about, in a way that nobody is quite sure is serious or not, about how Jesus is the only way to love; Then the rest talks about the disasters that will befall us without love. Considering the way the genre developed, it's amusing that arguably the metal album could be read as an antithesis to the whole genre.
Most of the material on this album is iconic, outside of the aforementioned Solitude and Lord of This World. There's basically nothing new to say about it. How many others have praised the subtle creepiness of After Forever, using hippie-sounding melodies as the chorus to counteract the dark, pro-Christianity lyrics. Even when the album is not being outright dark, it is still being dark under the surface.
Master of Reality strikes me as the perfect metal album. Oh, there are ones I personally like better, even in Sabbath's career, but Master of Reality states all that is good about the genre, and states in a period of time that does not linger for too long or too short. Master of Reality may be the third album, but it is not their third best album.

I already expressed my love for 2018's The Incubus of Karma by Mournful Congregation in my earlier review on Metal Academy, so it was with a hopeful spring in my step that I ventured into this month’s feature release. It is fair to say that my previous positive experience was instantly replicated as I started to listen to The Exuviae of Gods: Part II. This is instantly recognizable as funeral doom, of course. However, there’s a shrouded light implicit in the songs of Mournful Congregation that at first glance was unexpected the last time around and I am pleased to say is still present now. All the oppressive, crushing elements are lined up here on this macabre and morose parade. The deathly plod you would expect from a funeral doom release continues to trudge at an agonisingly slow pace towards the inevitable end. Still, I cannot shake that flicker of sharp light that Is burning at the centre of all that murk.

There is an odd sense of comfort that I take from good funeral doom, and this release has made for great bedtime listening to drag me off into the land of nod on a few occasions now. Whilst it is a little too short to truly encapsulate many of the great things that I heard in 2018’s offering, in a way that is okay as there is still a distinct sense of fulfilment from the thirty-nine minutes that the three songs run over. The harrowing and punishing repetition never become arduous or boring, indeed it seems to help tracks grow in stature as it repeats. I believe this is successful because once again Mournful Congregation display a real penchant for songwriting of the highest quality. Just as with my comment on The Incubus of Karma, The Exuviae of Gods: Part II continues to grow those strong roots of songwriting prowess. These tacks aren’t just long, they are nurtured, they are grown, cultivated into their optimal form.

The melancholic melodies of the guitar on ‘The Forbidden Abysm’ genuinely moved me to the point of welling up tears in my eyes. It is such a sudden burst of despondency that it caught my completely off-guard. There is a limitless patience to how the drums are played on this track. It would have been easy to lose them in the mix against the backdrop of the relentless wall of riffs and dense atmospheres present here, yet there is no loss of power to the work Tim Call puts in. Some of the picked string work is exquisite, with the intro to the final track 'The Paling Crest' being of note. It is this sense of pacing and build that keeps the release interesting for the whole duration. There is little in the way of criticism, other than to say it needs perhaps a little more bite to really keep things entertaining. However, once again, Mournful Congregation cement themselves as true masters of funeral doom, with a knack for songwriting that few I have experienced can touch. My only regret is not having listened to Part I.

“Depressive black funeral doom” is the description Danish, multi-instrumentalist, Nortt gives themselves when explaining their style. Having played Dødssang about fifteen times now over the past few weeks, it is hard to argue with that tag. The “depressive black” element is more the ethos of early Xasthur, with absolute sorrow washing over the listener is slow and heavy waves of misery. It is the “funeral doom” influence of Skepticism that sits more proudly across the album. Those painfully dense piano keys and weighty atmospheres are the stars of the show for me. Dødssang therefore, is not a happy experience by any means, yet I personally find some solace in the cold desperation that is laid bare in Nortt’s music. It is a record that has its limitations in terms of I only listen to it at certain times/in certain moods (for instance, sat here in temperatures of 20 degrees Celsius, Dødssang is not the soundrack to summer). However, in those right moments it is perfect accompaniment for reflections on your deeper thoughts, darker emotions or even for when you just need to hear something that is as bleak as you feel the world is for you at that time.

If you come looking for variety in your music, then turn on your heels and head back from whence you came dear listener. Here be repetition, within repetition, within repetition, within repetition…I think you get the idea. At its best when listened to through earphones, when Dødssang lands with you right, it is hard to switch off or skip, let alone harder to not put on repeat immediately after the play through is done. I don’t mind the lack of variation as I find the tone it sets is more than enough to peak my interests currently and so I am glad in a way that it sticks to this approach consistently throughout. I can see for some though that this could be a problem. As I say, Dødssang is absolutely mood music and so the higher scores are not relevant in terms of a rating. Unless you are constantly in that dark space then I can’t imagine you seeking out this record much.

That should not detract from the quality of the album though. Funeral doom is not the most expansive of sub-genres and this certainly stays true to the blueprint here, in fact I would go as far as to question the “black” aspect of the tag here. Whilst it most certainly is justified regarding the messaging of depressive bm, musically there is very little comparison to draw on here. Having gone through some personal struggles in recent weeks, this album has probably found me at the optimum time and hence my connection with it is stronger than if life was all a garden of roses. This is the only funeral doom release I have heard this year also and so it is unchallenged in that regard as well.

Fentanyl opens with a huge, slamming breath of blackened doom that expels everything else from out of the immediate ether into parts unknown. 'Of Furor and Ecstasy' is immediately the center of attention and Morast dare you to take your eyes (or more importantly – your ears) off it for more than a second. The cloying and suffocating atmosphere that the opening track exudes makes for an excellent start to this, the band’s third full-length. Stretching to a little over thirty-four minutes, this is not a record that outstays its welcome by any means either, that excellent opening therefore should be maintained relatively easily.

Whilst the memory of it is never truly lost, the powerful opening of Fentanyl morphs into different forces as the album progresses. Certainly, unafraid to play with pace and tempos, Morast vary the riffs, adding tremolos in alongside the heavier moments. There is more of a sense of a large, lumbering beast in the main, but it has more parasitical entities in tow, and they ferment unimaginable plagues within their scaly bodies. The riffs sound like these parasites mining into the earth as they fall from the husk on which they grow. This gives a real sense of expansion with the music, like it is moving in many directions. As relentless as its momentum may be, there are offshoots to track also.

This mixture of component parts makes tracks such as ‘A Thousand and More’ attain an almost enchanting depth, with dancing, down-tuned riffs ploughing through the solid percussion. Yet, on other occasions, simplicity rules the day. Straight forward riffing and drumming propel penultimate track ‘Akasha’ along and whilst I do not get the sense that Morast are the most technical of players, they clearly approach their art with strong commitment to stamping their own signature on things. I am reminded of how few bands manage to do this blackened doom sub-section of The Fallen anywhere near reasonably well. There aren’t too many obvious comparators between Morast and other bands that spring to mind, even after multiple listens through to Fentanyl. It is a standout record therefore, at least so far this year anyways.

Album number six from Liverpool doomsters, Conan is probably going to end up being my favourite release of theirs. Having heard nearly all of what came before Violence Dimension, it is good to find that mix of stoner plod, tortuous sludge and pure doom metal settling as good bedfellows. This is one of the most powerful sounding and best produced Conan records that I believe they have put out to date. Never a band to shy away from repetition and lengthy tunes, Violence Dimension sees Conan continue in that same vein over eight tracks. Whilst it is sadly not possible to wax lyrical about all those songs, there is an obvious level of professionalism about Conan in 2025. New(ish) bassist, David Ryley sounds at home on his first studio outing with the band, whilst drummer Johnny King seems to have found even more authority to complement the historically commanding performances I have heard from him.

The riffs sound as monstrous as ever but also feel more rounded overall. They supplant the need for vocals on the instrumental tracks well. On the title track for instance, the whole body of instruments gets to tell the tale for much of the song. Jon Davis’ vocals are perhaps the only area of the Conan sound that appears to have undertaken no enhancements on the new record. Not that they need it really, but they do feel a little left behind as a result. It is a minor quibble and by no means ruins everything (Jon’s vocals have always deliberately been placed in the background anyway on Conan releases), but I think there is some impact on the collective aspect of the sound.

That craved for rumble on the bottom end is available in abundance on the record and with the speakers on the right volume you should probably expect some seismic activity on your house consequently. At the same time, Conan make a few shots at atmospherics. The bass and sound effects on 'Ocean of Boiling Skin' make for a fine means to exemplify the implied imagery of the track title, making for an almost simmering period before the riffs and drums take over to really raise the temperature. I do feel that album closer, 'Vortexxion', whilst again living up to its title with that cosmic edge to things, is a poor means to end the record with. It sounds a little too droney for my liking and so I feel ends things on a bit of a damp squib. However, let’s still admire the many strengths of Violence Dimension and allow it to take a (currently) high position in my list of releases for 2025 so far in The Fallen clan.

As with anything involving two of the biggest names in doom metal, Alluvion was destined to succeed from the off. With main Hell man, Matthew Scott Williams deciding to collaborate with Mizmor supremo (and live drummer for Hell), Liam Neighbors on a full-length album, 2025 just got a lot more interesting. Both are established artists in their own right of course and so anything they collude on is bound to be monstrous, right? Well, the simple answer is yes, yes, it is. Alluvion is an absolute triumph of a release. It achieves that rarified atmosphere of being vast and expansive without ever becoming boring or taxing to listen to. Indeed, the only struggle I have when listening to it is to not immediately play it again on loop.

The atmosphere on Alluvion is nothing short of humongous. It is repressive in that it takes all your attention to truly admire its oppressive density. The whole experience is devoid of leniency in that it simply does not let up once for nearly forty-minutes. The boldness of artists who can produce such domineering sounds and not think to give any respite at all is a joy to behold in a world of mass produced, easily accessible and safe music. This album is just the soundtrack to your worst, unending nightmares by comparison. It relies on no pillars of technicality or musical fanfare. Repetition and (largely) slow grinding riffs are the order of the day here. Inflections of atmospheric chaos litter the record (those shrieking voices at the end of ‘Vision II’) along with black metal fury (‘Pandemonium’s Throat’) flooding in to really spice things up.

These bursts of variety give an impression of a morose record, its ill-tempered nature seemingly impatient with itself even at times. Yet perversely, in the main, it continues to pick agonisingly slowly at a festering scab that barely conceals an infected, gaping wound. Building is the wrong word to describe how tracks come together; they lumber into existence. Drenched in reverb and with a somehow beastly psychedelic edge to some of the guitar riffs, Alluvion continues to develop its hideous soundscape without respite. My only criticism is the drums seem too far away in the mix, they sound like they are treading water at times, notwithstanding they have a wall of noise to compete with most of the time. When they do bob their head above the crashing waves of misery there is a deftness in their delivery that probably could have been allowed to shine a little more in the mix.

It is still a minor quibble in an otherwise sensational auditory experience. As an aside, I am unsure if the it was the intention but it looks to me as if the album cover is trying to recreate the painting ‘Sadak in Search of the Waters of Oblivion’ by John Martin.

In the Woods… have always just ‘been there’. Floating around the periphery of my metal music awareness for years, with me rarely paying them any attention. The progressive tag is usually more than ample to put me off things but given this was dual tagged with gothic metal (another one of my areas of limited interest) and I am trying to broaden my horizons and capture as much new stuff in The Fallen as I can this year, I broke form and went for it. I am glad I did.

What is clear, even as a relative newbie to the band, is that these fellas know how to write songs. There’s obvious depth to all the tracks on this album. Emotional and compositional depth is present in equal amounts, and as a result Otra is an incredibly rich and rewarding album to listen to. There is the mournful atmosphere you would associate with the gothic tag, but there is also the sense of mystery, of some riddle that runs in secret through the album, like there’s always something more to come on each track. It is this narrative of intrigue that keeps my attention on the album from start to finish. This intensity by no means impinges on the overall relaxed vibes that come off the record as it plays. The vocals have a soothing monotone to them, a handsome charm almost. Even on the death doom sounding section of ‘The Crimson Crown’, the menacing vocals are tempered by most of the track being sung in a clean and sultry tone.

I would liken the connection I feel with this record to the same spontaneous response I had to Katatonia’s The Fall of Hearts. I can sense the dark soul behind the music, its presence obvious throughout. As I was ploughing through other releases this week, I got to The Maneating Tree’s latest album, and it just underlined the difference in quality in that Otra is interesting to listen to from the off. Otra lacks much in the way of a generic pigeon-hole to be sat in and as such, all bets are off. The juxtapose of styles somehow remains unintrusive over seven tracks that all seem to flow with an underlying air of calm. Hear the black metal vocals creep into tracks like ‘Things You Shouldn’t Know’ and ‘The Wandering Deity’ whilst enjoying vibrant progressive vibes in some of the guitar at the same time.

For all its free-flowing nature, there is no sense of reckless abandon in the playing. At no point do I feel the need to hit the skip button, which on an album that is infused with gothic and progressive tropes is no mean feat really. There are clunky moments still. ‘A Misrepresentation of I’ stands out for the failed attempt to shoehorn that title into the chorus (it sounds like ‘a misreputation of I’) but it is more than forgivable given it probably is my only negative out of over forty-five minutes of music.

From time to time I surf youtube and try to find good live performances. It was through this method that I came across Crowbar's Bloodstock set from 2023 which can be found here: https://youtu.be/hGih5_AJrPw?si=lUhmBDWJ4GtYbk0f

Now, being a fan of doom and sludge I had of course heard of Crowbar, but what I had been told was that "Planets Collide" was their magnum opus. That particular song doesn't resonate with me, so I didn't dive deeper. It was when they performed "To Build a Mountain" in that live set that something clicked for me. 

...but Zero, that song isn't on this album. 

Correct, so let's talk Symmetry in Black; Crowbar's most common lyrical themes revolve around strength and perseverance in the face of depression, anger, addiction, and unfavorable odds. This is music designed to get a man through his lowest lows. In any Crowbar album you're going to get super thick down tuned guitars, an endless stream of powerful riffs, and Kirk Windstein delivering encouragement in a style that is heavy, gruff, bellowing, and yet completely 100% decipherable. These are possibly the most clear vocals I've heard on anything this heavy, and this is good because as strong as the riffs, and as crushing as the tones dialed in are, it's the lyrics and messages that I'd say are Crowbar's greatest strength. Crowbar's formula and sound are very consistent from release to release. Symmetry just sounds a little bit better to me from a production standpoint and it has some lyrics that particularly connect with me. 

This is an album full of inspiration, but I've chosen the lyrics to "Shaman of Belief" as I feel it encapsulates best what Crowbar is all about.

Shaman Of Belief

"Look up at me

You're crawling

On dirty ground you prowl

Lift up your head

And see me

Your antidote is now

Open up your mind

Time to realize

Now save your energy and use it well

It's not too hard to see

What's real

Look up at me

You're drowning

So far below

Beneath

The answer that eludes you is echoing so deep

Open up your mind

Time to realize

Now keep your energy and use it well

It's not too hard to see

That time will tell

I'm the creator of all your dreams

I am the shaman of belief"

Powerful stuff. Did I mention this is an incredible album to work out to? It is. 

I'd like to conclude by saying that I've watched a lot of Kirk Windstein's interviews, and he seams to be a down to earth, humble, polite, and honest man. The phrase "salt of the earth" comes to mind. The kind of person you can feel good about supporting. I've read that he's pretty accessible and available so when he goes on tour again I will try to meet him.

I am starting to amass a fandom for Daniel Butler. After finding Acephalix many moons ago and subsequently Vastum a couple of years later, I know have stumbled across Decrepisy (which I am unsure is even an actual term). In a year that has so far floated my death doom boat very little in the first quarter of 2025, I was instantly full of hope when I heard Daniel Butler and Kyle House from Acephalix were involved in Decrepisy. Deific Mourning I am pleased to say, certainly lives up to the expectations that I have of these artists, and the bands numbers being bolstered by current Morbid Angel live drummer (as well as Funebraum and Ascended Blood sticksman of course), Charles Koryn and Jonathan Quintana on guitars (of Ritual Necromancy and Coffin Rot fame), all works out well for their sophomore release.

Deific Mourning sounds like a beast in the throes of uncontrollable grief for it’s fallen lord. It is like an acid bath of sorrow. The density of the sound is like a mournful millstone around your neck, the cavernous vocals grunting and gurning their dismal and gloomy emotions until they surround you. All the while the guitars chug away in a punishing and laborious drudgery, as if consigned to riff away for an eternity of mourning. The leads when they come, are just as melancholic, sharpening the pain as they seep into tracks. These leads are my only element of criticism on the record though, as despite them having impact, they feel placed rather than planned sometimes. Whilst they by no means ruin any of the tracks, they do have a sense of them being an afterthought on more than one occasion.

Koryn’s drumming is well-balanced throughout the record, coming to the fore especially well on the stripped back ‘Spiritual Decay 1/4 Dead’. It sounds like a professional performance from him. Indeed, the only element that feels a bit lost in the mix is the bass. Kyle handles bass alongside his guitar duties, and so perhaps this explains why the four strings have little presence overall (not that you miss them by any means). The multi-talented Leila Abdul-Rauf (Vastum, Cardinal Wyrm), guests on the record, dropping some menacing synths and additional vocals into the fray.

Album highlight for me is the brooding album closer ‘Afterhours’. I suspect Leila is heavily involved on this one with its looming dark ambience and abyssal echoes. It plays like some agonising cabaret in places, yet as some shamanic ritual in others. It is unexpected at the end of an album that to this point has been so clearly rooted in death doom, but it works brilliantly. The distortion applied to the guitars gives a b-movie aesthetic to the proceedings as the threat builds up and up during the track. Decrepisy may have passed me by with their first record, but I am so glad I did not miss this one. Off to blast me some Acephalix and Vastum for the rest of the bank holiday.

Sounds like Windhand. There, got that out of the way early in the review and will try to spend the rest of the paragraphs not mentioning how much this sounds like Windhand (dammit, there I go again). Joking aside, there are worse bands to sound like out there. What Daevar lack in originality they make up for in consistency that eventually overbears even the most ardent of critics. Sub Rosa sets an early tone and sticks to it for the next half an hour. They advertise themselves as having elements of grunge in their sound, an influence I don’t recognise as being that obvious. I can see where it might get called out but in the main, I just hear straight up stoner doom, done well. In a year where I have so far been unimpressed by Messa’s latest offering (there’s a few listens in the tank to go yet but it by no means grabs me like Close did), it is good to find some quality female-fronted doom kicking around.

In their home country of Germany, Daevar are probably pretty much unrivalled in the doom stakes. The quality levels on Sub Rosa are high, and this sounds like a record made by a trio who are tight and used to playing alongside each other. I can’t deem how long they have been together, but they have three albums under their belts now, and this shows here. Balancing all the elements superbly here, the album feels like everyone knows their place with the riffs, bass, percussion and vocals all getting a showing in the sound. There is no sense of jostling for position on behalf of any of the component parts here, probably as a result also of the great production job that allows those hazy and more dense atmospheres to stay present alongside each other so well.

I can’t pretend it will be my AOTY, but there’s a charm to Daevar that makes them great music for summer night campfires. The intense sense of togetherness in their sound is infectious and it is impressive to get such a positive vibe from a record that assess the troubles of the life in the modern 20’s. Whilst it may lack the emotional intelligence of some other artists, it is a success in part because of its direct nature and stark refusal to break from an established sound. Yes, it does still remind me of Windhand, but that by no means is aimed as a criticism.

Décembre Noir are a German doom metal band that have been learning a lot form the Officium Triste/My Dying Bride school of melodic death doom songwriting. And with Your Sunset | My Sunrise, Décembre Noir are doing all they can to bring the melancholy to you. I personally believe that while the production of this album is sparkling, some of the records more "extreme" elements can fell a tad overwhelming. They never get to the point of becoming overbearing or fully modulating this album into technical death metal, but the percussion is far more engaged in the song themselves than one might expect. Songs like "Your Sunset | My Sunrise" and the closer "Trivial Heart" have some enormous grooves, but Décembre Noir balance them out with some of the gothic tones that would not seem out of place on Hour of the Nightingale. The vocals are strong and have a really nice timbre; stylistically they vocals may seem to be a bit weak and lacking in presence, but the dark atmosphere helps to sell the despair that comes across through the vocal delivery. I personally would have liked there to be more tracks like "Trivial Heart", where the melody is consistent and built upon during an entire songs length. At only six songs, Your Sunset | My Sunrise tells a really good story and is a really good compliment to those artists mentioned previously.

Best Songs: Against the Daylight, Your Sunset | My Sunrise, Trivial Heart

You know what you are getting with any Mantar record. Sludge-punk rammed right down your throat. Completely devoid of bass as well as fucks to give, Mantar remind of how rock ‘n roll must have originally been perceived back in the day. Their sound has a maverick attitude, a mocking undertone that rumbles through their records where the bass would normally sit. Good news then that Post Apocalyptic Depression absolutely sticks to that formula. With song titles like ‘Church of Suck’ and ‘Rex Perverso’ (roughly translated means ‘King of Perverts’), you will soon the level of cheer this duo is looking to spread this time around.

It is a surprisingly cohesive sounding record given it was written on two different continents. This "quick and dirty" (as the band call it) style pays dividends as the pair bash and smash their way through all manner of influences ranging from the Melvins through to punk. The seedy undertone that gets set early in the record never truly wears off and there is a sense of the listener getting grimier by the track. The drums and guitar make their presence known in equal quantity and don’t ever outshine one another. The vitriol heavy vocals, wheeze and sleaze their way over the music in an almost serpentine-like manner.

If you are looking for variety then you are probably in the wrong shop. Mantar know what they want to say and how they want to say it, and that doesn't incorporate much other than the clear influences I have described on their sound. Unapologetic in their approach and unrelenting in their delivery, Mantar very much like the sound of their voice and as a result this is a near forty-minutes of consistently offensive music. No ballads, no progression or avant-garde elements present here folks.

On paper at least, I would have normally avoided Lord Agheros. That album cover screamed gothic metal at me, and so when I discovered no gothic metal on the record, I was immediately caught off-guard. Indeed, opening track, ‘Lament of the Lost’ had me thinking of Wardruna, which was a completely unexpected reference point. Whilst The Fallen is most certainly the correct clan for Anhedonia, there is a lot of different elements musically to digest. Whether it is symphonic, choral, melodic black metal or outright atmospherics, Anhedonia provides lots of angles for the listener to run at it from. It should be noted that some parts of the album sound truly beautiful, being rich in depth.

When they get the arrangement correct, Lord Agheros are quite the accomplished songwriters. However, there are some occasions whereby contrast the compositional aspects of some tracks are clumsy and cumbersome. In the early part of the album, transitions seem to struggle to land all that well. As a result, songs sound like they jerk and jolt around. As the record progresses, this problem does seem to fade in frequency and the second half of the album suffers a lot less from this.

Overall, though, as much as I cannot deny the unexpected allure of this record, it is still dogged by the impression that some sections of the record are a triumph of design over content. I suspect there is some conceptual narrative to proceedings, and this may go some of the way to explaining the sense of some parts being forced to fit together. Credit where credit is due on the ethereal beauty that is inherent behind these issues, they are truly an unexpected bonus. However, they are too few and far between for me when taken into consideration with the whole album offering.

Passages nearly didn’t get a look in when I was jumping through new releases in The Fallen. The EP is one of those releases that does an interlude track and then a proper track which is hard enough to stomach on an album, but over a shorter format so easily could have been a turn off. As it turns out, Sunrot manage to pull it off. The actual sludge content pisses all over the noise interludes for me, to the point where I don’t remember them being there by the time the power of the instruments and the vocals kick in with an Olympian level of fury.

Sunrot make pissed off music for pissed off people. Their music is slamming and juvenile without sounding immature. It’s the hand cupping your balls whilst the other one is punching you in the dick. Both easy and effectively picked targets. They even get Dylan Walker from Full of Hell and Brandon Hill from Cloudrat to guest on the record, so have the respect of grindcore royalty it seems (although Hill’s contribution is to one of the ludes). It is an EP on which I only like two songs out of five though and I cannot help but feel a little short-changed by the experience. It did pique my interest to explore some of the full-length releases by the band though so in a way did still serve a greater purpose. Would have preferred some live tracks instead of the ludes in all honesty.

Hungary is not normally a country I associate with any metal output, let alone death doom. When I first heard Töviskert... a kísértés örök érzete... Lidércharang I had no idea what to expect, there was a genuine air of mystery that even got me to thinking ‘has any Hungarian even heard death or doom metal, ever?’ Turns out they have, well at least two of them have. Hanyi and Lambert might as well be Finnish though as the death doom they offer is very much in the sound of that geography. In fact, they remind a fair bit of Krypts now I come to think of it. On this, their second album, the duo lumber through a selection of mid-paced death doom tracks. I mean, don’t get me wrong here, it’s deathy and it’s doomy too of course, but it never gets into funeral doom territory.

Lambert deploys a horrific and ghastly vocal style throughout the six tracks here which fits the marauding guitar perfectly, both backed up by Lambert’s thudding drums. Hanyi for his part covers guitar and bass on the album and although you are going to struggle to find the bass in here (apart from on album closer 'Az örök isten Lucifer'), the guitar makes its presence known. On the slower sections it hangs hauntingly in the air, like some horrendous spirit that refuses to pass over to the other side because it is having far too much fun threatening the living. In their more frantic moments, the band sound like a squally death metal act (hints of some Portal at times, to my ears at least) but they have mastered the mid-paced plod style of death doom best.

There’s a groove to some of the riffs here which is a welcome bit of variety that seems to help build tracks as they get going ('Sikoltó füst'), quickly switching to be that marauding beasty style that I mentioned earlier, just in case we need to be reminded of the threat of Rothadás’ intent. At the end of the day, nobody picks up a death doom album looking for variety. It is a safe space for those who know what they like, and this Hungarian duo will tick all the boxes for any fan of the sub-genre. I liked it more the first time I heard it if I am honest, probably because I listen to very little death doom nowadays and I was excited to still find such appeal in my heart for the style when Töviskert... a kísértés örök érzete... Lidércharang first started getting on to my rotation. It is very well put together, but it is nothing outstanding. It is not safe death doom. If such a tag exists, I demand it be expunged immediately. These two know their art and play it with a clear passion, it is just nothing new for me and I feel there’s always one or two records that come out each year like this one. I nod my head appreciatively, holding my chin whilst looking out of the window like some death doom connoisseur, enchanted but not overwhelmed by what I am hearing.

As I have said elsewhere, I am quite the fan of the Seattle husband and wife team that are Year of the Cobra, them first catching my ear with their "The Black Sun" EP back in 2015. I have, however, been a bit tardy getting across their latest release, this self-titled full-length being released over a month ago now. YotC play stoner metal with a doomy vibe and a bit of a psychedelic influence. Comprising vocalist and bassist Amy Tung Barrysmith and drummer husband Jon, the pair deliver their stoned-out doomy vibes without the use of six-stringed guitars. The riffs are carried solely by Amy's basslines as are any solo embellishments.

This S/T kicks off with the lead-off single, "Full Sails" which thunders straight out of the blocks with Amy's lumbering and forceful bassline which is then joined by Jon's bludgeoning drums and a second bass riff. As Amy's vocals join the fray we find that not a distant-sounding, shrinking violet, but a strong and powerful version of the ethereal-voiced siren trope that is common within doom metal, sitting somewhere between Windhand's Dorthia Cottrell and Jefferson Airplane's Grace Slick ("White Rabbit" version, not "We Built This City"). This is followed by the more uptempo "War Drop" which is a groovier and more catchy example of the band's sound with a chorus that will keep bouncing around in your head well after the track has finished, despite the ominousness that it portends. By this time you find that you aren't really noticing the lack of six-string riffing, such is the force of the basslines, which not only stands as testament to the duo themselves, but also to producer Matt Bayles who owns and operates Seattle's Red Room Studio and is a veteran producer of bands such as Isis and Mastodon and does a fantastic job here.

"Daemonium" and its uncomfortable lyrics of confrontation of a violent sex offender, is another pounding, pulsing uptempo effort which has an almost punky feel to it and carries forward the momentum generated by "War Drop" into the heart of the album. I have to confess that, despite my evident preference for doom metal, here Year of the Cobra sound much more effective on the quicker-paced material than on the slower stuff. "Alone", which follows "Daemonium", doesn't quite strike the same chord as the previous tracks and feels amost aimless compared to the succinct and driving nature of the early part of the album. "7 Years" picks up pace once more and is another fist-pumping, psych-heavy, stoner workout with a catchy chorus. "The Darkness" is possibly the most interesting track on the album, with it's crawling, serpentine opening bassline enveloping the listener and tightening its coils as Amy turns in a nicely varied vocal performance that positions her well to the top of the list of female doom metal vocalists.

I think it is fair to say that the Seattle duo, despite sitting firmly in the stoner doom camp, have, wittingly or not, picked up some influence from their home city's historical assosciation with grunge and this is nowhere more apparent than on "Sleep" which feels like a downbeat, stonerised version of an Alice in Chains or Soundgarden track. Closing out the album is its longest track, "Prayer" which is a very laid-back sort of track and, to be honest, I found it ended the album on a bit of a low-energy downer that was at odds with the majority of the material on offer and may well send the casual listener away with a slightly distorted memory of what had gone before.

I think it is fair to say that Year of the Cobra inhabit a fairly unique area of stonerdom, with a grungy, punkish attitude to stoner metal that sees them writing some exceedingly groovy and catchy material, whilst still delivering with powerful, bass-heavy thunder some seriously downtuned and fuzz-laden psyched-out trips. I have never seen them perform live, but I suspect they may be one of those bands that attract a quite diverse following. I have not completely made my mind up yet where this S/T ranks in their discography, but it is certainly their most accessible I would suggest and could well see them really start to gain a foothold in the wider world.

Whilst listening to Year of the Cobra, I found myself debating how difficult it must be to be in a two-piece drum and bass doom combo.  I mean there must be a lot of pressure on the bassist to start with.  How much do you yield to the temptation to play it like a rhythm guitar, or perhaps go the opposite way and use the bass to create dense atmospheres like Bell Witch? On YotC, Amy manages a bit of both.  She carves out some bone-jangling riffs for sure, yet she also gives us enough bottom end to thicken up proceedings nicely on the tamer sections, when the beefier riffs are on the back burner.  You can sense the same dilemna with the drums of course.  Do they take precedence over the bass or simply play along in support of the four strings?  Again, like his wife, Johanes finds a good balance here.  As unremarkable as his performance maybe, the presence he brings cannot be underestimated.

Of course, Amy also has responsibility for the vocals.  Her dreamy, stoner/psychedelic style works in great contrast to her heavier bass work.  The vocal performance on album closer 'Prayer' stands out in particular with its very personal and sentimental traits making for a deeply heartfelt display.  It is not often a doom track manages to invoke emotion in me, but I genuinely fought back tears when listening to that song.  As the album highlight for me, it is a shame that such beauty is quite isolated here.

With some sense of inevitability perhaps, YotC suffers to a degree of a lack of variation.  Tracks such as 'Alone' lose me completely, and no matter how many times I play the record, I cannot tell you how 'Sleep' sounds.  Stronger tracks like opener '...Full Sails', 'War Drop' and 'Daemonium' are sufficient to rescue the record from the lower end of the scoring spectrum.  Like I said at the top of this review, tough gig this two-piece doom set up and unfortunately it shows here.

If they have achieved nothing else, Pothamus have introduced me to a new instrument in the Shruthi Box, an instrument predominantly used in Indian classical music.  It is deployed here on single, ‘Ykavus’ where it adds a droning presence to proceedings.  Fortunately, this is not my only take from Abur, although it is a distance away from my usual diet, it is still a very entertaining record.  There is still some familiar features to compare with the backdrop of my usual listening habits, but the duration of this record in the main is time spent away from my comfort zone.  The sludge tag it has on Metal Academy has some relevance most certainly, but it is the post-metal tag that fits the majority of the record better.  On top of this though, there are those hints of drone as well as a sense of Middle Eastern infusion.

After a few listens through to Abur with the tribal percussion and dense atmospheres, coupled with echoing chants and expansive keys, it is obvious that a lot of thought has gone into the record.  Whilst it might not have an immediate argument for frequent revisits (this very much a mood record) it is a very professional sounding yet artistically endearing album.  Where the band are most definitely skilled is in the ability to combine multiple elements on one track, not necessarily blending them, just very capable at arranging them.  The title track absolutely feeds off the atmospherics before breaking off into some of the denser sludge content present on the album.  When in full flow, the atmosphere here is reminiscent of an Akhlys album, minus the horror of course.

I cannot fight the haunting and ethereal charms of Abur.  It is such an accomplished sounding album that is in many ways a shame that it only fits a more serious mood.  I will come back to this album when I feel enclosed or suffocated by my existence.  When I am sensing my boundaries are the same four walls far too often and I need reminding of how far outside of my comfort zone I can actually go.  This is where Pothamus will come into their own for me, occupying the same ‘open when needed space’ as Russian Circles, Wardruna and Forndom.

Sweden's Mercy are best known for being fronted by a pre-Candlemass Messiah Marcolin, especially as they struggled after he left, eventually splitting up in 1988. This, however, is a bit unfair on the rest of the guys because Witchburner is actually a very cool early doom metal record. It still retained a significant amount of heavy metal DNA, much like most mid-80's doom acts, except maybe Saint Vitus. It kicks off very strongly with the head-turningly-titled "I'm Your Pervert Priest" which possesses a crawling and portentously doomy riff which is topped off by Messiah's instantly recognisable vocals and marks the first time that a genuinely gifted and expressive vocalist was featured on a doom metal track, providing ample proof why Leif Edling wanted Messiah to join Candlemass after Johan Langquist refused to commit beyond the recording of "Epicus Doomicus Metallicus". What may surprise Candlemass fans is that Messiah was only seventeen at the time of recording and also played drums on "Witchburner"putting in a decent shift behind the kit, being basic, but effective. Lyrically, the track is obviously mocking of established religion, a theme that became well-established within metal circles, here given a sardonic and humorous slant rather than the out-and-out vitriolic attacks that became de rigeur within metal lyricist circles.

At this time Mercy had been reduced to a trio with three of the five that recorded the S/T debut having departed before the recording of "Witchburner" and remaining members Messiah and guitarist Andrija Veljaca being joined by second guitarist Jörgen Horst who also handled bass duties on the new record. The guitar sound on Witchburner is based on the "Tony Iommi" sound, but has a bit more of the grittiness of Saint Vitus' filthier intonation than heard on albums like Trouble's S/T or any of Sabbath's material. Where it does have more in common with these is in the songwriting, the slow, doomy material still being countered by a fair bit of traditional metal riffing, although that filthier, distortion-heavy guitar sound makes the faster riffs sound great. This was actually Mercy's sophomore full-length and I find it inconceivable that they hadn't received any exposure to the more doomy acts emerging, particularly from the US, between the recording of their 1984 debut and this because the two are worlds apart. The S/T takes its cues from the NWOBHM with the band coming off like a swedish version of Saxon for the most part, but "Witchburner" was much darker-sounding and had shed all the hard rock influences of the earlier record, becoming a much heavier album as a result.

The riffs are pretty memorable and Messiah's enunciation is excellent as usual, making "Witchburner" one of those albums that sticks around in the old grey matter and that people may find you singing along with later. The two guitarists are also impressive with some terrific soloing, the incendiary and blistering fretwork of the solo at the midpoint of Pain of Golgata, is just one example of a solo that would be salivated over had it come from KK Downing or his like and here provides a searing contrast to the plodding dirge of the main riff.

Whilst the three tracks of side one are undoubtedly the doomier and for me personally the better, the second side also has it's moments and is interesting for different reasons. The opener on side two, "Welcome to My Graveyard" is virtually speed metal and with that filthy guitar sound it actually sounds really good, so if you have always wondered what Messiah would sound like singing in a speed metal crew then here is your chance to find out. After that, "Judgement Day" has a bouncy "Children of the Grave" riff and may be the "catchiest" track on the album - all together now, "No one gets away... on Judgement Day". The penultimate track "Voodoo Kills" is for my money the weakest here being a little all over the place and not terribly well put together, but it is still listenable enough all the same. Closing out with the eight-minute title track, the ponderous ominousness of side one makes a welcome return and we are thrust into the doom-laden world of seventeenth century religious zealotry and witch huntings which was destined to become pretty standard doom metal lyrical fare.

All-in-all I think this is actually a very good example of early traditional doom metal which deserves far more attention than it has received. I would take this over Trouble's "Psalm 9", for example, which may or may not be a hot take, but is my heartfelt opinion as I think this sits much nearer to the Saint Vitus debut than to Trouble's and I would hold SV's self-titled up as the flagbearer for early trad doom. Sure this does step into trad metal and even speed metal territory occasionally, but the doominess of the three tracks on side one and the closing title track are ample proof that these Swedes were committed to playing and exploring doom metal further. It is a shame that we never really heard much more from Mercy, but as I said they struggled after Messiah left and their later output doesn't live up to this earlier promise with 1989's King Doom being a major disappointment. So, as it stands, "Witchburner" is an interesting development in the european take on doom metal and allows us to glimpse the early career of one of doom metal's iconic vocalists, making it a worthwhile listen which should be of interest to any serious student of doom metal and its history.

I cannot pretend to be a big CoF fan. Other than Dusk…and Her Embrace, The Screaming of the Valkyries is the only other album of theirs that I have listened to in the last thirty years. Somehow, I find I like the idea of CoF more than I like the actual reality of CoF. Gothic metal is not a go to sub-genre for me by any means, and so as the band moved away from their initial melodic and then symphonic black metal sound my interest levels (which were not particularly high to begin with) soon began to wane. It is unexpected then that I am sat here about to write a review of their latest album as it plays on what must be its sixth spin in the last three days.

To my ears, to start off with at least, The Screaming of the Valkyries does not introduce itself as an entirely gothic metal record, certainly not as I would expect gothic metal to sound anyway. The opening two tracks are up-tempo and full-frontal attacks of metal. Full of power and promise as opposed to pomp and haughty posturing as I expected. There is even some fantastic lead work to get lost in also. All in all, ‘To Live Deliciously’ and ‘Demagoguery’ make up a great start for the album. Everything sounds well balanced; instruments are all audible in the mix that does them all sufficient justice.

However, The Screaming of the Valkyries peaks far too early as it turns out. That is not to say that the rest of the album is terrible by any means, but it does lack the immediacy that was promised by the opening two tracks. Whilst I completely acknowledge that ‘The Trinity of Shadows’ is well written; it just does not measure up to what precedes it and seems to herald the start of a mediocre section of the album for the next five tracks. It is not until ‘Ex Sanguine Draculae’ that things pick up just in time for triumphant album closer ‘When Misery Was a Stranger’.

As a result, there is a real sense of lost potential on CoF’s sixteenth album. For an album that is so well performed and deftly written, I feel like I should be getting more from the nine tracks than I do. The long-term fan will have a different view, I am sure. However, for me, the record falls short by not playing to its opening strengths and extending that footprint throughout the album.

Like Saint Vitus, Trouble formed in 1978, but also like their californian counterparts they didn't release their debut album until 1984. In fact Vitus' and Trouble's self-titled debuts were only released a month apart, with "Saint Vitus" issuing forth in February and "Trouble" (later retitiled "Psalm 9") following in March. Preceeding the album, the track "Assassin" was released as a single, backed by a doomy cover of Cream's "Tales of Brave Ulysses", which was decent enough, although Eric Wagner does struggle with some of the higher registers. "Assassin" was chosen as the lead single, I suspect, because of its strong resemblance to NWOBHM stalwarts Diamond Head in an attempt to garner some traction with the fans of the english heavy metallers.

Trouble are well-known for their Christian-themed lyrics but, in all honesty, I never realised this for the longest time because the lyrical content doesn't affect the darkness of the music at all. Their beliefs don't become that apparent until you actually sit down and go over the lyric sheet. The preachiness and happy-clappy demeanour of so many Christian-themed acts was something that Trouble managed to avoid, concentrating more on the music and less on converting the long-haired masses of young metalheads who comprised their prospective audience. This is a band equally at home pouring vitriol on unfeeling leaders with lyrics like "Come on people, let me hear you say, You fuckin' Bastards, you're gonna pay" as they are beseeching their lord for mercy with "I will praise thee O Lord, I will sing praise in thy name, Don't forget the cry of the humble, Have mercy on me".

Instrumentally, "Trouble" has quite a clean and well-produced sound, much more akin to Black Sabbath than the grimy grittiness of Saint Vitus' more distorted and downtuned debut. The band also employ a wider variation of pacing than is often encountered within the context of orthodox doom metal, but make no bones about it, when they want to, they are more than capable of bringing the doom. Despite their penchant for traditional metal-paced riffs, the downtuned and distorted guitar sound often makes the material feel slower and doomier than maybe it actually is. As well as varying the pacing from track to track they are also apt to change the velocity of the riffs within a given track, such as on the opener, "The Tempter," where, after an ominous tympanic intro, the riff crawls unctiously from the speaker and Eric Wagner intones a warning from satan himself before the band change up a gear and kick into a riff Angel Witch would have been proud of as the forces of good rally themselves. This then alternates with the slow, crawling riff as The Tempter tries his powers of pursuasion on man and quickens again when The Good resist. There is even a rocking, bluesy riff accompanying the guitar solo after the second verse, typifying a diversity that more doom-centric releases may lack. That said though, when they embrace a doomier, darker side, such as on "Victim of the Insane" then they are perfectly capable of conjuring up as sinister and ominous an atmosphere as anyone.

Vocalist Eric Wagner is, of course, a legendary name within doom metal circles, although I am sure his vocal style isn't to everyone's taste. Sure, he does sound like a strangled cat occasionally, but, similarly to Scott Reagers on Saint Vitus debut, his higher-pitched style does act as an effective counter and contrast to the low-tuned guitar and bass assault of the riffs. Unconventionally pleasing and technically restricted vocals, of which Wagner's are a solid example, have long since become the norm within doom metal circles and Wagner, Reagers and company, in the spirit of Ozzy Osbourne, were a big factor in that.

I cannot claim that I hold Trouble's debut up as an absolute top-drawer traditional doom metal release as, in all honesty, it doesn't commit enough to the doom aesthetic for me, despite showing promise with the likes of "Victim of the Insane". There are also a couple of clunkers among the tracklisting, with "Revelation (Life or Death)" and the instrumental "Endtime" in particular just not sounding coherent enough within the context of the rest of the album. That said, there is enough quality elsewhere to provide a really solid listening experience and this is ultimately an album that further bridges the gap between traditional heavy metal and doom metal proper and as such deserves the time and respect of all doom metal fans.

I did not listen to a lot of metal music in 2019. During that time I was firmly in my folk/americana era, where artists like Jason Isbell were my passion. When the year ended, I realized that I had listened next to nothing in the metal sphere, so I took it upon myself to search out some other rock/metal acts that released albums that released albums that year. Among those found were Altesia, Wilderun, and Hanging Garden. Now, I thought that Into That Good Night was an okay album; I liked it post-metal leanings, but was turned away by meandering song structures. Recently, I've started to embrace those blind spots in my metal listening and review more albums in genres that I don't frequent, such as Fallen pillars of doom and gothic metal.

With The Garden, I felt much the same way at the beginning. The title track is a solid opener with a good hook and great counterpoint between the clean singing and harsh death metal growling. But just when I thought we were getting another slow, melancholic tune as "The Garden" fades out, "The Four Winds" picks up the tempo and subverts expectations. It's not too much of a deviation in style for Hanging Garden, but it does allow for the return of the slower death-doom tempos to be more impactful on "The Song of Spring". I found myself really grooving with "The Fire at First Dawn" as the male vocals are sung in a clean timbre and the guitar is given more of a quasi-solo role.

I have a hard time rating this album any higher though. While I do find the album to be a fairly solid listen from top to bottom and there aren't any insultingly bad tracks here, something about this albums middle portion just does not resonate with me. I can tell that in some contexts, "The Nightfall", "The Stolen Fire" and "The Journey" are good tracks, but for me they just seem derivative. Maybe it was the vocal timbre, where the male vocalist options for clean vocals more, leaving the female vocalist as basically a background. Either way, it does not ruin The Garden that much and does make for a pleasant listen, but keep in mind that this garden might not be as lush as bands like Draconian or Swallow the Sun.

Best Songs: The Four Winds, The Fire at First Dawn, The Fireside

The mid-1980s finally bore witness to the dawn of the doom age. The proto-doom metal of acts influenced by Black Sabbath, such as Witchfinder General, was finally usurped by "true" doom metal from the likes of Trouble, Pentagram and the subjects of this review, Saint Vitus. Forming in 1978 as Tyrant, the band released a demo tape in 1979 which was mostly comprised of tracks that would eventually surface on their first two albums. They changed name in 1981, the new monicker inspired by the Black Sabbath track, "St. Vitus Dance", from the Volume 4 album. Saint Vitus originally found little favour with metalheads as their slower, downtuned style was at odds with the burgeoning speed, thrash and power metal scenes, seeing the band struggling to find a recording deal. Until, that is, they caught the attention of Black Flag's Greg Ginn who signed them to his SST label just because they were so at odds with what was popular in metal at the time. This association finally led to the release of the band's self-titled debut in February of 1984, making it one of the very first official "genuine" doom metal albums. 

For a band that struggled to gain acceptance, the band membership remained remarkably stable in the early years. The quartet of guitarist Dave Chandler, vocalist Scott Reagers, drummer Armando Acosta and bassist Mark Adams who recorded that demo all the way back in 1979, was the same lineup responsible for the debut full-length five years later. Possibly due to their involvement with the hardcore punk scene, Saint Vitus have never really gone in for sprawling albums, keeping their full-length albums quite concise, with the S/T's five tracks weighing in at just 35 minutes. Opening with the paciest track of the five, the eponymous "Saint Vitus", the most striking initial aspect of the band's sound is Dave Chandler's filthy, fuzzed-up and downtuned guitar that sounds like the buzzing of a horde of seriously pissed-off hornets and achieves an atmosphere of darkness that few at the time could match. Chandler is ably supported by Adams' basswork, which is as effective at deepening and strengthening the riffs as Geezer Butler's is on those early Sabbath albums, although Vitus sound way more grimy and brooding than Sabbath ever did in all honesty.

Much like Ozzy and Witchfinder General's Zeeb Parkes, Scott Reagers isn't exactly what anyone would call a technically superb vocalist with a wide range, but his reedy and slightly nasal delivery is actually a lot more robust than you would expect and is well-suited as a counterpoint to the deep and warmly resonant guitar sound with the poor fella occasionally sounding like he has lost the plot mentally. Reagers has often been given short shrift when compared to his later replacement in the band, Scott Weinrich, but as much as I love Wino's grizzled vocals, I feel Reagers' more unhinged style suits the material on this debut better. There is something about the spirit of traditional doom metal that doesn't see technically accomplished vocalists as a requirement. I don't know whether that is down to the spiritual godfathers of the genre featuring Ozzy as their front man or if it is just a preference for dark atmospheres over technical ability, but either way it is a truism and gives an opportunity to singers like Reagers to push themselves to the fore on the strength of their vocal character and knack for creating a unique atmosphere rather than on their range and technical precision.

An underappreciated aspect of Saint Vitus' early material is their ability to write memorable and almost "catchy" riffs and songs without compromising on the inherent darkness of the tracks. The riff and chorus of the eponymous opener is every bit as catchy as Witchfinder General's eponymous track, yet has a far darker vibe to it, mainly down to the filthiness of the guitar sound. A noticeable feature of this album, whether intentional or not, is that after the relatively sprightly opener, it becomes gradually more and more sluggish in tempo, with the two tracks on side two, "The Psychopath" and "Burial At Sea" having slowed to a crawl, as if the energy has been drained from the band as they spiral further and further into darkness. With those two tracks especially, Saint Vitus laid down the commandments for doom metal - play it low, play it slow and keep it dark.

In summation I would cite Saint Vitus as one of the very earliest official full-length albums where a band went all-in and committed totally to the doom metal ethos that Sabbath promised, which, it must be borne in mind, was completely at odds with the zeitgeist of playing faster than everyone else and with an increasing emphasis on technical skill and songwriting complexity. This was a bold move for the time and, in truth, it wasn't until much later that the band gained the respect and kudos they were due for the influence they exerted on a whole genre. In fact, probably on two genres, because it is entirely possible that Saint Vitus' association with Greg Ginn had an influence on the direction of Black Flag's "My War" which was released just a month after "Saint Vitus" and which was a fundamental release in the evolution of sludge metal. All this makes "Saint Vitus" an indispensable release for fans of doom metal.

Wren is one of the most unmetal sounding band names that could be picked really. One step up from Sparrow or Dunnock I suppose but still leans heavily on the lame side of the bird world. Whilst it may not be the most threatening name in the world metal, Wren does fit the atmospheric sludge of this London four piece as they explore a vast and dense landscape across their third album, Black Rain Falls. Foraging through punishingly slow riffs, flitting between ethereal density and atmospheric ecosystems and nesting in the rafters of the solid structures of the seven tracks on offer.

Describing themselves as a ‘blackened noise band’ (at least according to the Spotify bio anyway) could not be further from the truth, as there is no noisy element to this record. The agonising pace of album highlight, ‘Toil in the Undergrowth’ is testimony to how captivating atmospheric sludge is. By the time the first riff lands we are three minutes into the track. Those hoarse and tormented vocals heralding the arrival of the track proper perfectly as that riff crashes in behind them. This album is full of Neurosis and Isis influences, and as a result had me hooked from the off. Songs feel like they are expanding even though there is little in the way of variation to suggest this is naturally the case. Any progression is deliberate and measured, feeling organic and unforced.

Tracks often end feeling like very little has happened in the way of change once the established format has been engineered, but still, I get sense of total satisfaction from the majority of what is on offer here. The interlude in the middle of the record feels a bit out of place though, even though it does in some ways introduce the dense, bassy opening of ‘Metric of Grief' nicely. Album closer ‘Scorched Hinds’ is one of the more obvious Neurosis sounding tracks, with its shifts and swells accompanied by chiming guitar notes that remind me of Kowloon Walled City. There is a lot to like in the simplicity of Black Rain Falls and it stands out as one of my happier new finds in The Fallen clan of late.

Witchfinder General were formed at the onset of the NWOBHM in Stourbridge on the outskirts of England's "Second City", Birmingham. What set them apart from most of the new movement was that they took inspiration, unsurprisingly given where they hailed from, of Black Sabbath rather than the Judas Priests, Motorheads and Budgies of their contemporaries. They released a 7" single in 1981 that saw "Burning a Sinner" backed by "Satan's Children" which failed to make much of a splash and which is now incredibly rare. The following year saw the release of the three-track "Soviet Invasion" EP, which did see the band finally gaining a little traction. It contained a faux live version of "R.I.P.", recorded in the studio with crowd noise added later, at the behest of the label's head honcho, Paul Birch. This would be the track which also closed out "Death Penalty", albeit in a re-recorded and superior form.

Finally, in the autumn of 1982, Witchfinder General released their debut full-length to a mostly positive response from the UK's metalheads and the rest, as they say, is history. Grabbing the attention of every male teenage metal fan in record stores by featuring a famous Page 3 model in a churchyard and in a decided state of undress on the cover, the band then had to deliver within said album's grooves to match the hype thus generated. Fortunately, they did so and their brand of simplistic and youthful Sabbath worship saw them gain a dedicated following within the wider UK metal movement. It is actually a very slight album, its seven tracks barely managing to scrape past a thirty-minute runtime, but each minute is well spent and such is the quality that it is impossible to feel short-changed. The short runtime actually gives the material an immediacy and vitality that some later, more bloated releases just couldn't replicate.

As an aside, the band that recorded "Death Penalty" is actually a three-piece, with bassist Kevin "Toss" McCready having left after the "Soviet Invasion" recording sessions, to apparently be replaced by a guy called Woolfy Trope. In fact, the band hadn't replaced McCready by the time they went into the studio to record the album so the bass parts were supplied by guitarist Phil Cope, and the wholly fictitious Woolfy Trope was credited, with a roadie standing in as "Woolfy" for publicity photos.

I think it is actually a stretch to tag "Death Penalty" as a genuine doom metal album, it was very much a product of its time, with Sabbathian riffs run through a NWOBHM filter resulting in a version of doomy, downtuned heavy metal which does nevertheless provide something of a bridge between Sabbath's 70s psych influences and the grittier 80s UK metal scene with a DIY sensibility resulting from the influence of late 70s punk rock on the UK metal community. To this end I think it is fair to say that "Death Penalty" isn't exactly a lesson in complex songwriting or technical adroitness, but it is chock full of cool and memorable riffs and has a singular personality with a street-level perspective that sets it apart from the crowd. Most of the tracks are mid-paced affairs, with only the title track and, to a lesser extent, "Burning A Sinner" slowing to doom metal pacing, but the downtuned riffs pioneered by Tony Iommi are most definitely present and it is a truth that the earliest traditional doom metal bands very often switched it up to classic heavy metal velocity. Phil's soloing is also a product of intense study of Tony Iommi's technique, sometimes piling note upon note in a fretboard firestorm, as per the opening of "No Stayer" or soaring sky high like the solo at the end of the title track. Drummer Graham Ditchfield channels Bill Ward's blunt style, but I think it is also evident that he doesn't have the technical skill level that the often under-estimated Sabbath drummer possessed, although it still works very well in the context of this album. Then there is Stourbridge's answer to Ozzy in Zeeb Parkes who, like Ozzy, isn't technically a great singer, but who imbues his vocals with such personality that it is easy to forgive him his shortcomings and just go along for the ride. The production is a bit muzzy with a fair degree of echo, as opposed to Sabbath's much more professionally produced efforts where, presumably, much more money was thrown at them, but I think this actually works in Witchfinder General's favour, giving them more of an underground vibe.

Despite the band name and the imagery of the album cover, they aren't so much a horror / satanically-themed band, often with much more prosaic and down-to-earth lyrical themes such as drug-taking, drinking and fucking taking their place alongside the witch hunting of "Witchfinder General" or "Burning A Sinner". As a very young man from a strong working class background at the time of this album's release, these lyrics espousing a love of hokey horror movies, getting hammered and trying to get off at weekends absolutely captured the essence of life for me at the time. I know I may have a severe case of rose-tinted spectacles when it comes to "Death Penalty" and others may well scratch their heads in bemusement at my fanatical advocacy for it, but simple fact is that this is an album I still spin regularly to this day, forty-plus years later and every time I enjoy it immensely, so what more could I possibly want from a record?

Of all their albums "Master of Reality" is the Black Sabbath album that has grown most in stature over the years in my mind. I got into the band around 1976 via "Paranoid" and that was my go-to Sabbath album for many years, alongside "Sabbath Bloody Sabbath", "Sabotage" and the debut, with "Master of Reality" and "Volume 4" taking up supporting roles. The track which kept drawing me back to "MoR" over the years, though, was the masterful closer "Into the Void" which still stands as my favourite Sabbath track of all and is one of their more doomy offerings, it signposting me down the road of future doom metal appreciation. As time has passed and I have become more and more of a doomhead, I have acquired greater appreciation of the doomier material of "Master of Reality" and it now stands as my ultimate Sabs release, despite stiff competition.

Tony Iommi's guitar tone on this third album is perfect, its deep and resonant fuzziness pitches perfectly what would become the signature sound of future acts like Saint Vitus, Pentagram and Electric Wizard, bolstered and boosted by the brilliant and often busy basswork of Geezer Butler, an aspect of Sabbath's sound that is not always given the credit it deserves. Bill Ward's jazz-influenced drumming style takes a more blunt and bludgeoning approach here than maybe it does on some Sabbath albums, although the way his runs switch from side to side on "Children of the Grave" (best experienced through headphones) is a brilliant bit of production work and adds a little something extra to an already brilliant track. Then, of course, there is the irrepressible Ozzy Osbourne whose influence on doom metal vocalists mustn't be underestimated as he showed that you don't need to be an especially technically gifted singer to be effective, as long as you are committed and have a degree of charisma. With rock music being newly dominated at the time by the Robert Plants and Ian Gillans of the world and their ridiculous vocal range, Ozzy stood tall and proclaimed himself their equal, on sheer strength of personality alone.

Then there are the riffs. I have said it before and I will say it again, Tony Iommi can write better riffs in his sleep than all but a select few metal songwriters can ever hope to come up with, having penned some of the most iconic riffs in the history of metal. From the crawling, weed smoke-drenched, oozing of Sweet Leaf, via the choppy, romping "Children of the Grave" and the plodding grooviness of "Lord of this World", to the ponderous lumbering of the opening to Into the Void, where Geezer follows Tony's riff for added gravitas, this is metal riff heaven, with these riffs sowing the seeds of inspiration for so many aspiring doom metal riff writers of years to come. Sure, the stoner element may be fairly prevalent here, but it is difficult to imagine a "Born Too Late", "Dopethrone" or "Forest of Equilibrium" existing as we know them without this album.

"Master of Reality" isn't all just about thundering, fuzz-drenched riffing however, with the album including several moments of quieter reflection, whether it be the soothing acoustic guitar of "Orchid" or the gentle reflectiveness and soul-searching of the psychedelic-sounding and melancholic "Solitude", which thematically, if not musically, also unwittingly helps set the aesthetic for doom metal's future melancholy side. Then there is the track which always baffled me after the dark lyricism and hints at satanic influence of the band's earlier material, the pro-religious "After Forever", which is a bit of a curveball lyrically and stylistically, having a much more upbeat riff and feeling than the rest of the album. The track has grown on me somewhat over the years, but if the album had to lose one, then this would be my choice.

So there we have it, for my money "Master of Reality" is one of the great metal albums, being an influence for both stoner and doom metal and perfecting a guitar sound that still stands tall to this day, over fifty years later, as a signature sound in the metal world.

Italy's Black Capricorn are a band I have been following for some time now, going back to their 2014 "Cult of Black Friars" album. I have always found them to be consistent, if not exactly earth-shattering, exponents of stonerised traditional doom metal and this latest album, their sixth, continues that direction of travel. The downside with this is that a band producing material which all ploughs essentially the same furrow, will inevitably encounter the problem of diminishing returns at some point. I think, even for me, that tipping point has finally been reached with "Sacrifice Darkness... and Fire". I don't like admitting this, because this isn't a poor album by any stretch, but neither is it particularly amazing. In truth, it feels a bit lacklustre, especially during the first half, with the vocal performance in particular coming over as weak. I know, stoner doom isn't exactly renowned for exceptional vocal talent, but the singing here feels uninspiring and tired and otherwise decent tracks "Blood of Evil" and closer "A New Day Rising" are a bit painful as vocalist and guitarist Fabrizio Monni struggles with the higher registers.

Instrumentally there are some damn good riffs, delivered with the usual hypnotic, psych-inspired repetition that is par for the course and, in truth, when the band get into a trippy stoner groove then that is when I am at my happiest with the album. The guitar tone is generally very nice with a warm, fuzzily distorted sound that encapsulates the stoner doom ethos nicely. Unfortunately the solos are another aspect that just feel lacking here. Take a track like "The Night That Came to Take You Away", which has a couple of pretty good riffs, but the solo in the latter part of the track is just so weak and uninspired that, along with the vocals, it almost undoes the good work done by the riffing. Conceptually and lyrically we are in the usual Roger Corman / Hammer Horror world of hokey horror stories which, again, is pretty much par for the course and is entirely what we have come to expect, so neither helps nor hinders appreciation of the album for the band's usual fans.

Songwriting-wise, things are kept pretty simple with straightforward song structures, competently delivered in the main, ultimately giving us an album where the riffs do the heavy lifting and are the focal point. Luckily these are of sufficient quality to make the album a worthwhile listen, but, that said, I don't think it is of high enough overall quality to maintain too much lasting appeal.