Vinny's Reviews

As you can see from the rating, The Search is not without its challenges for me.  Notwithstanding that this album was recorded nearly forty-years ago and that I suspect that they did not have the most advanced studio to work with, this took me back to the wrong side of the old school, blunting some of the sharper nostalgia that can normally carry a portion of such albums.  I mean, I have no experience of Necrosis before this month and so I had no familiarity to work from that may have been triggered somewhere in my aging brain.  Hence, the performance, although adept enough, is not captured as well as it could be.

In the main though, I just can't get past the vocals.  They are just too weak to the point of being whiny; unable to stack up against the rest of the instrumentation, especially the guitar work which is a good few notches above the vocal performance.  Increasingly, as I listened through the record, I found it hard to penetrate the skin of the record and pick out any individual moments to reflect upon.  The album as a result just became this mass of thrash music, without any clear delineation between tracks.  In short, it soon became a bit of a slog.

In the end I found myself listening to the album to almost try and outrun the vocals, just so I could hopefully get long enough away from them to enjoy the music itself.  Alas, I did not have the legs to last the course of that little mindgame and so The Search remains a discovery that I am unlikely to revisit.

In my more attentive death metal listening days I was specifically drawn for a period to the sounds of Portal, Grave Upheaval, Impetuous Ritual and Mitochondrion.  Across this cross-section of bands I had found a sound that had moved beyond the simply inaccessible depths of conventional death/blackened-death metal, and had gone on to a whole new level of murk and squall.  Song structures where a redundant concept.  Dissonance and swarming chaos ruled these despairing depths.  Whereas some of my peers were utterly alienated by such music, the sheer abandonment of all conventional tenets of music theory really struck the right chord with me.

Cabinet are a modern version of that sound. Except Cabinet's version is like listening to Vexovoid if Portal had recorded it whilst out of their minds on crack.  Not content with just taking extremity far beyond any known levels, Cabinet add a cinematic quality into proceedings to create some real drama.  Now, do not get mistaken for thinking this is disorder.  It comes across to me that Cabinet have managed to download all of our nightmares from our subconscious minds and commit them to tape.  As punishing as it does often get, Hydrolysated Ordination never loses my attention at all,  Whilst I could be forgiven at times for thinking that the riffs were recorded in a whole different dimension altogether, and with the noise elements also being well-dialled in, this record never actually veers wildly off-road.  It does sound for the majority of the runtime like it is driving in the flow of oncoming traffice I grant you, but this is what makes it such a deeply immersive experience.

The unpredictability of the record soon becomes its trademark.  Tracks begin and end where you don't expect them to, sounds that you think you recognise the orign of turn out to be questionable in origin after repeated listens.  Is that a horn being played or just another wildly distorted guitar?  These are the type of questions that I found me asking myself as I worked through the terrifying yet wonderfully deviant eleven tracks on offer.  All hope abandon, ye who enter here.

The “boxes” argument used to come up quite a lot back on the old Terrorizer forum days. Any member trying to conveniently place anything even slightly eclectic into a specific genre, sub-genre, niche, thimble or mere tag usually found themselves suffering the ire of one or more of the regulars on that board. For a forum that was associated with the extreme metal and was billed as the” world’s most dangerous music magazine”, there was a surprisingly open-minded group of regulars present there and as such an album like this month’s The Fallen feature release would have proved to be a divisive discussion point.

Smote don’t have any recognition on Encyclopaedia Metallum: The Metal Archives. To be honest, I can almost understand why. As much as there is a heavy streak to Songs from the Free House, there is a lot of other elements for the listener to contend with. Drone, psych, folk and doom all occupy the forty-minute space in front of the listener. To my ear this record embraces a very similar sound to that of Wolvserpent, a band who despite my tendency to avoid drone metal, get regular revisits each year. When I pick up such reference points, I do wonder if it is just that Smote have simply not been put forward for submission at The Metal Archives as opposed to being outright rejected. Clearly, these tracks are not always arranged with the heavier elements in sharp focus; the chaos of psych often disrupts any sense of outright doom metal from topping the charts of influences driving the bus. You may easily find then that Songs from the Free House is a little too rarified a listen if there are no albums by Hawkwind in your collection.

At the same time, I do not think that you must be a fan of the output by Sunn O))), Earth or Boris to enjoy this release. The drone elements here possess an atmosphere I have rarely been able to pick up with the above artist’s releases that I have ventured into. The haunting pipes of ‘Chamber’ and those dense, droning keys and vocals create a real sense of immersion around me as I listen. But above all else, in comparison to other albums I have experienced across these multiple genres/sub-genres, there is still a sense of very definite start and end points to tracks. There is no blurring of all tracks into one and as such tracks are permitted a good expanse of individual identity.

I could use the word ‘enchanting’ to describe this record. It has a sultry, brooding appeal to it that lures me in; perhaps at this early stage of listening even without me being able to fully understand why it connects with me so well. There is something primal about the tribal percussion that is on display. The uncertainty of the deep drones and bass lines only seem to add to the allure of proceedings as opposed to alienating me from them. And so, it eventually comes back to the fact that there is no “box” to put this record in, which is sort of why I like it so much.

Manchester’s Winterfylleth have had a mostly “off” relationship with me (as opposed to an “on/off” relationship that is).  Their most enjoyable release for me has always been their acoustic folk record The Harrowing of Heirdom which I thought was fantastic in a kind of underground Fleet Foxes kind of a way, not too commercialised or harmonised either.  Fact is that most of their outright black metal records have left me cold, and not in the desired black metal experience kind of “cold” either.  I cannot deny that they are a talented bunch of lads, and that they do have a well-established following of loyal fans.  The music is never bad when I experience it, yet nor does it come across as being particularly memorable either.

The Unyielding Season caught me off guard therefore.  Soon after hearing it through a couple of times, I found myself able to predict songs on subsequent visits.  Opening track, ‘Heroes of a Hundred Fields’ has a fantastic section (which I heard called a “breakdown” the other day) after about two thirds of the way through.  Likewise, the title track has etched its flow into my memory banks also, much quicker than expected.  As with my favourite album of theirs, the two acoustic tracks are probably still my two preferred ones.  That favouritism has more to it than nostalgia for the previous release though, the band do have a genuine talent for writing beautiful acoustic pieces I feel and again it is these two moments that stay with me as the most positive experiences of the album.

It is not that the rest of the album is awful, more that these other tracks do seem to blur into one another.  This is a trait that only seems to get worse with repeated listens sadly.  Even on purely critical listens, it is hard to discern vast quantities of the album as having much in the way of individuality.  By far the greatest problem I have though is the poor choice of a cover track that sits right at the end of the album.  I am not Paradise Lost’s biggest fan, regardless of the fact that ‘Enchantment’ is one of my least favourite songs of their’s.  It was bad enough hearing Nick sing it but the vocalist for Winterfylleth somehow makes the experience worse.  Maybe I have overplayed this album in trying to settle on some reasonable understanding of it.  Looking at the score I have applied to the rating now, I would have thought it a shade higher upon initial discovery listens.  However, the reality over time has proven a different outcome is necessary.

Bold statement incoming. I like the new Lamb of God album. I think it is good. That might class as two bold statements, but I think you get the gist of how this review is shaping up even at this early stage of proceedings. I am not Lamb of God’s biggest fan; in fact, I doubt that I have successfully navigated one whole album by them before the multiple listens that this opus has enjoyed. Just like this review, Into Oblivion starts off positively with the title track presenting a solid groove metal track to open things up with. Dashing riffs jab at the listener whilst Blythe’s bruising commentary land more direct blows. The slamming metalcore tropes of ‘Parasocial Christ’ are a welcome continuation of things, making it very clear that Lamb of God have not just turned up, they have rolled their sleeves up, adorned some sweatbands around their wrists and are already hard at it. After a slower start, ‘Sepsis’ soon sets in as its title suggests it would, turning into a dirty little fucker of a track, treating us to a breakdown also before leaving us sweaty and exhausted.

It is no secret that groove metal is perhaps one of the sub-genres that I struggle with and it is only the fact that I curate the playlist for The Pit that I have actually managed to seek out some alternatives to the single-track of Pantera records that I have been listening to (increasingly sporadically) over the last thirty-plus years. Machine Head’s debut was a treat of course and later day Exhorder are perhaps my only other consistent listen. Lamb of God have not had a look in until now. However, this is a mature sounding record that keeps the fun of the style firmly in play. This is not Pantera worship; whilst those elements are certainly there, I must listen attentively to formulate the influence. Nor do the grooves reach the infectious levels of Exhorder. Instead, I pick up a mixture of reflective, contemplative subject matters malformed into a blunt force trauma style delivery that benefits from restraint being applied. Into Oblivion, ironically, never fully forms into the threatened state of the album title. Lamb of God are fully aware of what they are doing.

I put this record on rotation at the same time as the new Exodus release, fully expecting this one to fall foul of the two-way comparison and that I would be sat here writing a review on Holt and co’s latest instead. As it turns out, Into Oblivion is miles ahead of Goliath in my book. If anything, Lamb of God’s tenth studio album is still growing on me, after some four listens now, this is no mean feat. To still have the same levels of energy by track seven (‘Blunt Force Blues’) is not an accolade I am often able to dish out. Even the slower paced (ballad?), ‘El Vacio’ doesn’t derail things, despite being the weakest track on here for me. At under forty minutes, managing to maintain a high level of consistency throughout its runtime, Into Oblivion is a triumph of a record in a sub-genre that for me lacks many successes even. Nodding heavily back to their roots whilst applying an array of sonic textures along the way, this is a record I never expected to like, and I think it is outstanding. Bold statement to close as well.

With an album cover that looks for all the world like a forgotten soundtrack to an obscure French art film from the 1970’s, Hidden Fires Burn Hottest is not a record I was to find per se. An established Californian post-black metal/post-hardcore band, Bosse-de-Nage aren’t a band I would normally be looking to find either. As is sometimes the case though, unexpected finds can be the best. Although similarities persist with the likes of Deafhaven, Yellow Eyes and Agriculture, all acts I find to be usually well outside of my wheelhouse, there is something in the sound of Bosse-de-Nage that had me interested from the off.

Now, if you’re reading this thinking how I am now going to tell you what that “something” is, well sorry to have to report that I am still figuring that bit out. I mean, it could be that I am starting to more open to a wider palate of music that incorporates more post and gaze elements. Indeed, I have been listening to more hardcore recently as well as a host of other non-metal music also. So maybe the non-metal elements of Hidden Fires Burn Hottest appeal to me more than any semblance of any metal that is present does. If I am being honest, I am not actually trying all that hard to figure out what that “something” is. Instead, I find myself just going with the enjoyment of what I am hearing, paying little attention to how it got in front of me and hy I have returned to the album on a near-daily basis for the past couple of weeks.

The vocals are where the closest element of the black metal in the sound resides in the record. With the combination of spoken word and lurching, hardcore vocals alongside these, there is a distinctly jarring element to the record. Those jangling guitars and a fair but firm percussion section that build ‘Mementos’ before a fearless bass presence makes its first noticeable appearance are an early indication of the non-linear format to song writing that Bosse-de-Nage employ. This is an album with a real sense of a percussive drive being at the forefront of its direction, layered with a grim punk style attitude overall. Even the two interludes work, crafting a valid space for themselves in the track listing without becoming intrusive or disruptive as I often fear with such tracks.

Hidden Fires Burn Hottest lives up to its title billing as beneath the surface, the intensely burning light at the heart of the band that represents their passion for their art certainly can be felt by the listener. Considering at the point that I discovered this I was (probably) searching for black metal it is rare for me to embrace such an unexpected warmth in a record. That having been said, I would not say that this is a particularly happy or positive album. I can connect with the Neurosis tropes of ‘Underwater’ just as well as I do with the more direct bm approach to ‘Frenzy’ that immediately follows it. This variety in styles is very easy for the band to claim under a banner of their own individual sound I would say. Nothing sounds forced here, and we are not talking about Imperial Triumphant levels of chaos or KEN Mode style attempts at experimentation by comparison, yet the record is not standard anything in any sense of the term either.

Four albums into their career and I finally discover Misotheist. Hailing from the traditional black metal heartland of Norway (Trondheim in fact), their sound reminds me a lot more of Icelandic bm stalwarts Sinmara or Svartidauði with dissonant elements of DSO thrown in there also for good measure. This is the kind of chaotic, deranged black metal that grabs my interest nowadays. Quickly finding a foundation in the netherworld, this album stays in that territory for its full duration. The combination of solid riffs and suffocating atmospheres are a killer combo here. Make no mistake about it, Misotheist are here to do damage, and it is a lasting damage designed to inflict maximum suffering. After a year of keeping up with black metal releases last year, and toning that effort down somewhat this year, my attention is intended to be devoted only to exceptional black metal albums this year. De Pinte (“The Tormented”), absolutely qualifies.

Crawling and claustrophobic melodies do little to temper the threat of blasting fury that the artist can unleash forth at any moment. A feeling of unease permeates the slower tempos on display whilst the more aggressive sections soon activate the overwhelming flight mechanism as nobody in the right mind would want to fight against this sound. Tormented is a perfect description of how those vocals sound. With agonising cries against a constant sense of threat and menace, this is not intended to be a comfortable listen. Yet the dissonant aspect to the sound does help provide some stark comfort to me. On the title track it acts like some cold and dense fog enveloping my being, wrapping in me in the track itself as it scores a multitude of etchings upon my skin.

This is probably the darkest thing I have heard so far this year. It is not dramatic or theatrical as you might expect. Instead, there is just a real confidence behind the performance that exhibits a clear belief in their own ability and an absolute steadfastness in their devotion to their chosen artform. The title track that closes the album goes on for over twenty-one-minutes, but I love every one of those minutes. It builds so well and maintains such a presence when it does establish itself as fully formed; this is clearly written by a master of the genre. Misotheist have absolutely no hairs and graces about them, they are simply dedicated beyond belief and are able to produce one of the most organic, natural sounding black metal albums of the year so far.

1992 was around the time I was in my death metal heyday, although looking back I was still working with a very limited repertoire. I had discovered the terrifying sounds of Obituary’s Slowly We Rot some years prior and so it had begun. After devouring Deicide, Morbid Angel, Bolt Thrower and Carcass I was off onto thrash metal for a few years in all honesty and so a lot of the classics from the 90’s (and the hidden gems) death metal peak were to become later discoveries for me. Some of them falling well into the 2010’s even before I had heard the likes of Immolation and a full-length from Death even. At some point in that period, Baphomet’s sophomore came through my grubby little mitts as I played a major game of catch up on death metal releases, by that point some of them being from over twenty years ago. The Dead Shall Inherit is not a record I would ever give the accolade of “classic” or even “hidden gem” to, but it has worn well over the years still.

Now plying their trade as Banished due to some German band of the same original name, back in 1992 the band’s sound seemed to fit into that cross-section of “also-rans” in the death metal scene like Morta Skuld and Sinister. Listening through The Dead Shall Inherit for this review it is not difficult to spot the likes of Immolation, Deicide or even Incantation in their sound, with perhaps even a smattering of a much less technical or brutal Suffocation also. It was clear that when they put their mind to it, this record could punch with the heavyweights, for a couple of rounds at least. With the grisly artwork for the record done by former Sadus guitarist (and band co-founder), Rob Moore, Baphomet had the component parts for a good death metal record. A riffy affair overall, The Dead Shall Inherit has a strong likeness to early Cannibal Corpse, another band who were in their prime at the time of this release also.

Whilst it is hard to find specific criticism of the record, it is still not a record that I find massively exciting either. Whether it is because I came to it late and had already ingested a lot of death metal from this era by that point, or maybe because I am still not all that interested in death metal nowadays like I used to be, but there is just no spark overall for me here. The album is consistent and has ear-catching (but not catchy by any means) moments most certainly, but it never goes off on a solid run of tracks to bring it up to the standard of other releases of the time. My go to records of 1992 are very well-established albums in the genre, with The IVth Crusade, Onward to Golgotha, Legion, Tomb of the Mutilated and Slumber of Sullen Eyes already hogging the limelight. Baphomet really do no wrong with this album in some regards. They fall foul of death metals saturated state I guess whether generally or just with my tastes of the time.

Occasionally, researching and programming the playlist for The Pit does still throw up something interesting. Mental Devastation being one such recent “something” to pique the interest levels of my ever-cynical brain, cynical when it comes to thrash metal in general at least anyways. Although technical thrash metal is not my usual bag, and vocals reminiscent of Sean Killian of Vio-lence or Russ Anderson of Forbidden are usually a massive turn off for me, there is something about Mental Devastation’s sound that carries appeal still. Considering that Alejandro Lagos’ vocals are not suited to my ears, or indeed all the tracks on this record, there is a level of proficiency to the playing that cannot be ignored. I wouldn’t say that there is all that much in the way of showboating on here either, just an obvious talent that knows it doesn't need ramming down the listeners necks.

Like other Chilean thrashers such as Critical Defiance and Parkcrest, it is hard not to acknowledge the prowess in the riff department but then the lead work here feels a notch above what I can recall from the other two acts. Vocally it is far too limited an offering for me to be considering any higher end marks going against the rating. Yet, despite showing progressive tropes it never strays into over-indulgence either. The album sort of occupies a middle ground in between the promise of progressive and aggressive thrash at the same time. Coroner seem an obvious comparison, but you won’t find much in the way of Voivod here. The attack is the driving force of the album with the progressive/technical trappings bringing up the rear. Some cool, bendy bass work from Alejandro helps make up for his rather one-dimensional vocals.

Drumming wise (as is often my criticism), the skins get a bit lost in the mix. ‘Mental Devastation’ sounds like the drums should be a lot further forward in the mix, but then again, the whole track sounds a little sterile to my ears. The bursts of lead guitar are a joy though. The energy they can bring into tracks can save some of the lesser appealing tunes on the record if I am honest. Nothing can save ‘Dõ’ however, that one is clearly filler and should have never made the album at all. It is quite disruptive to the final third of the record in fact. The final three tracks look like an attempt to bookend the title track at some eight minutes plus long, but they just feel like two short tracks thrown in there to beef up the track listing. However, I did reference this as one of those interesting albums from The Pit exploration, so I am by no means slamming this record, more making some critical observations.

As I listen to Gravity, I sense that there is a history of music represented here that I am not all that close too. The heavy-psych elements to Saturnalia Temple’s sound suggest to me at least one foot in the heady days of the 70’s and beyond, but at the same time I get a lot of modern Darkthrone in the sound as well. Add to this, aesthetic the creeping darkness of black metal that seeps into the occasional track and before I knew it, I was completely in love with this month’s feature release for The Fallen clan. In my weed smoking days (long, long since done with), I would have enjoyed Gravity on a whole different level, I am sure. It feels like a record that can, with the right tools deployed, unlock outer dimensions of the listener’s inner consciousness, if you know what I mean.

This transcendental potential is by no means wasted when listened to in an entirely clean and sober headspace mind. Using simple repetition and atmospheres, alongside a near-constant menacing rumble of bottom-end loaded bass, Saturnalia Temple make for an otherworldly experience without the need for chemical assistance. The whole album sounds a bit clunky to me, but this is part of its natural charm and is what helps keep it in the higher echelons of the appeal stakes. I can listen to the damaged soundtrack to a thousand sci-fi horror movies that is Elyzian Fields all day long, and the droning indulgence of Between the Worlds right after it help make the mid-point of the record particularly strong for me.

Although Gravity has many recognisable traits to it, I cannot help but feel that the album feels like an introduction to something new. Even though many if not all its roots are found in the past, somehow there is still an element of there being an aberration present in many regards. As the tracks pass by, they carve sigil like etchings into my brain, meaning the memorability factor is high. High enough in fact for me to be able to enjoy the record as both background music as well as a more critical listening session. Great find.

Mike Scheidt seems like a nice bloke.  Numerous interviews and documentaries that I have seen of late with him present have led me to this conclusion.  Having come to understand his roots, influences and musical tastes has helped him to become more than just “that guy out of Yob who nearly died” as I sometime fear the music media typecast him as being.  Whilst I have no doubt Mike is every part the survivor he gets portrayed as being, there is an intensity to his live performances that burns brighter than anyone else’s that I have seen over the many years that I have witnessed extreme music.  Survival instinct aside, Scheidt’s a warrior when he has a guitar in his hands and a mic in front of his chin.  Enduring a tough upbringing at the hands of peers that saw him plunge into the world of punk, metal as well as new wave (which remains a strong favourite of his musical tastes still) I imagine relates him to a lot of folks who didn’t fit with the “in” crowd in their younger years.

As a result of these insights, I feel I have more awareness of the depths present in Yob’s music.  Something that may well have been previously lost on me.  Understanding how Mike learned to stretch his legs (and hands/fingers of course) to move away from bar chords and pick out notes, becoming unafraid to change things up, has helped me to notice some of the nuances, touches and inflections present in the music of Yob.  As a band who have always struck me as a trio who produce music with an enormous amount of structure, Yob have a reputation with me for building enormous soundscapes.  Clearing the Path to Ascend was the most vast listening experience I had heard to date with the bands discography.  With just four songs taking up over an hour of music, there was clearly little room for error here.

One could argue that with such a short array of lengthy tracks on offer, Yob could just throw the kitchen sink at each song and hope for the best.  They don’t.  As I mentioned earlier, if there’s one word I would associate with Yob, it’s “structure”.  There is a level of patience required to be invested by the listener with this record, one that for me personally reaps some reward.  The build ups take their time, but never to the detriment of the songs.  My attention does not wane during these moments and let’s be honest, who comes to a doom record to be deterred by repetition?  Scheidt’s nasal crooning and his guttural growls are probably the weakest part of Yob’s sound for me, yet I could not see any other style working half as well.  They are delivered (like the rest of the music) from the heart.  It is all about the riffs and heavy bass presence though for me, even if this does mean the drums are often lost in the fuzzy rumble of the mix of the album.  It doesn’t feel like a deliberately obtuse production decision has been made here though, as I could argue more percussion just simply is not needed.

In a genre where most records can sound the same, Clearing the Path to Ascend uses cosmic atmospheres in places to provide “pauses for breath” I guess and to add variety.  They are probably the most difficult aspect of the album to contend with for me.  I would be happy for them to be ditched in favour of more pummelling for my ears.  However, at over an hour long, I can see why the record needs these lulls in intensity.  Yob manage to bounce the tracks back each time though, so as undesirable as it may be, I can forgive them at least.  Listening to his album led me to the wider discography and I think that in comparison to some other albums, this one lacks any exemplar tracks.  As strong an album as it undoubtedly is, there’s only really ‘Marrow” that deserves real note for the absolute poignancy of its delivery.  No individual criticisms on a track-by-track basis then, but there are better Yob albums out there.

In terms of my exploration of The Fallen clan, one sub-genre that is noted as “not for me” is drone metal. Unable to fathom the appeal of Sunn O))), Earth or Khanate despite numerous attempts, I soon got to the opinion that this was never an area of music that I was going to gel with. Then I remembered Wolvserpent. I recalled how I had become lost in the ethereal beauty of their Perigaea Antahkarana and Aporia:Kala:Ananta releases from over a decade ago. How the haunting strings of violins played by a seemingly melancholy soaked set of troubled spirits had soothed my frantic thoughts before a crashing riff came in to wipe away any lingering fears in my soul.

As soon as I put Blood Seed on recently, I quickly found myself in the exact same space. This is the debut from the now defunct duo, from back in 2010 when the pair had been around for five years prior as Pussygutt. Brittany McConnell handled the drums as well as that tormented violin sound and Blake Green covered guitar and vocals. Not that vocals play a big part in the debut (or indeed any other release from Wolvserpent), the band have always been about the music, and this was set out very clearly on their first release. Side A is a single track, ‘Wolv’ and the ‘Serpent’ track makes up side B. I can imagine a wolf or two padding around some dark forests, hunting for prey, searching for signs of life to take from unsuspecting animals to the first track. The choral style howls and guttural gurns perhaps imitating the language between the menacing pack of predators (or maybe the screams of the victims?). At over twenty-two-minutes long, this track requires attention to fully embrace the magic of it, yet I find this a very easy ask to comply with.

‘Serpent’ lands a little shorter in duration at the eighteen-minute mark. Straight out the blocks, I can envisage a coiled snake, slowly unfurling itself to the nightmarish atmospheres that open the track. Brittany’s violin is accompanied by some distant howls (the ‘Wolv’ I suspect) courtesy of the guitar of Blake and a tense atmosphere permeates between the instrumentation. You may have noticed by now dear reader, that for someone who opened this review by remarking how little they like drone metal, I have managed to wax lyrical about a drone metal release for over two paragraphs thus far. In my defence, I think Wolvserpent are a different offering to any of the other bands that I mentioned above. They have more obvious “sections” to their tracks, incorporating varied elements of sludge (around the six-minute mark of track 2), doom, dark folk, chamber music as well as drone also of course.

Although repetition is still a mainstay here, there is enough going on at any given time to keep me focused entirely on Blood Seed, which is the similar experience that I have of their other releases I am familiar with. In short, all of drone may well not be a write off for me after all.

“Caverncore”, the 2010’s movement borne out of bands taking the sounds of Incantation and maxing out the reverb was my bag at the time. Having notched up around two decades of listening to death metal already, this sub-genre at least gave me something new to listen to that walked the fine line between blackened death metal and death doom. Except, depending on the levels of saturation the average death metal fan was willing to go to into this realm, the frantic squall of Portal was to be found in the darkest corners of this new soundscape. Bands like Finland’s Swallowed, had zero qualms about taking the extremity of metal’s most alienating sounds and incorporating them alongside more traditional tropes.

My theme for the feature releases I have picked this month has been single album bands who split thereafter. A “tragedy” themed month, I guess. This certainly resonates with Swallowed. The duo of Ville Kojonen (drums and vocals) and Samu Salovaara (guitars and vocals) employed a dirge of bassists for Lunarterial as well as guest drummers, guitarists and vocalists. In essence they created a real moment in time record given that not all those same musicians (five of them) would likely be in the same studio as the two mainstays of the band. As such, Lunarterial is a one-of-a-kind record within a one-of-a-kind sub-genre. I have no idea who is babbling the tormented vocals on each track, who is torturing the guitar, punishing the drums or contributing to the maelstrom of chaos that constitutes this beastly record.

Far from being a total abandonment of order, Lunarterial had a very set and individual path set out for itself. The fact that this path may have been an aberration to many potential listeners mattered not. You can easily hear the death metal, you can track the doomy pacing and reel at the blackened, caustic guitar sounds, but can you fathom the depths of depravity behind the heinous mix that is done across the record? Unlike an art-based project, which is how I view Imperial Triumphant, Swallowed simply strive to immerse the listener in chaos, leaving them to fathom what they can. Tracks like the twenty-five-minute closer, ‘Libations’ are a stretch too far even for me, yet I absolutely am not surprised that this album not only takes me to the limits of my love of extremity but also seeks to push me out of my comfort zone.

Gates of Slumber took a while to land with me.  The vocals of Karl Simon were by far the biggest hurdle following my “pay what you like” Bandcamp download of Conqueror in 2008.  By the time I got around to the self-titled debut album by Wretch, the band that got put together after the initial hiatus being called on GoS, eight years had passed and I was by this stage much more in tune with Karl’s Winoisms.  Wretch and I hit it off from the first listen and it is an album that gets a couple of plays each year nowadays still.

For a doom metal record, it is surprisingly catchy.  In addition to this it has a rich vein of the blues running through it.  Those early Sabbath riffs, sat alongside the obvious Saint Vitus and The Obsessed influences show a band with some firm roots in the founding fathers of the genre and the debut album from Wretch really does sound like it comes from the soul of everyone involved.  The Judas Priest cover works well, even given the full hazy doom treatment.

The band even manage to shine on the two instrumentals that are present here.  I did roll my eyes at the prospect of two tracks without vocals at first but they are so well played, it is hard not to get onboard with them.  The brooding bass of ‘Bloodfinger’ is a wonderfully psychedelic experience set against the bluesy noodling of the guitar.  Not that I have heard all the GoS albums and notwitwstanding the style is perhaps different overall, but I would say that Wretch is my preferred output above even the might of Karl in GoS.  It is a shame that we only got one record out of the project, but at least it is a killer.

As if we ever doubted the experimental traits of Morbid Angel before the much maligned Illud Divinum Insanus, here we have their 1994 EP that features two tracks from the previous year's album, Covenant.  Both tracks get two runs out, once in their original form and then again in a format "realised" under the "supervision" of Slovenian avant-garde band, Laibach.  The fittingly titled, Laibach Remixes simply is an exercise in why somethings are better left as they were originally intended.  The "remixes" tag suggests that a level of thought has gone into creating something fresh or at least enhanced.  This doesn't happen.

Instead we get random vocal effects; the already OTT depths of Vincent's belicose barkings get a coat of weird to really underline just how far away from laughable he actually can be at times.  I am in an especially grumpy mood with MA today as I sat through the entirety of Heretic, twice in the last twenty-four-hours and I am genuinely wanting to cut my ears off as a result.  Foolishly believing it could not get any worse, I ventured into this release and I am currently sharpening that blade even more to ensure it does the required job at the first time of asking.

Electro-industrialising any death metal should be a war crime, punishable in keeping with such heinous acts as genocide.  Hands down one of the worst releases I have ever heard in my life.

Kylesa have possibly spent the longest duration on my “to do” list in since its very inception. With the years that I spent meaning to check out more of what constitutes The Fallen clan but never quite getting around to the task, the Georgia natives sat out numerous long years waiting to get anywhere near the front of a queue that simply was not moving. As I approach my fiftieth year on the planet, I am just getting around to a record that came out when I was thirty-four years old and Kylesa were already four records to the good in what was fast coming up for a decade of existence for them. Following the much-praised Static Tensions album from the previous year, Spiral Shadow had much to live up to for the fans of its predecessor. I have the luxury of their 2010 release being my gateway album, having heard nothing from Kylesa prior to this. As such, I get to review it based on its merits as a standalone record.

I was surprised at the inclusion of two drummers in the band, in fact, I would never have even thought this could possibly work in any band, regardless of style, pacing or tempos. This was the first instrument that stood out to me on Spiral Shadow, not because the dual percussion offers such an overwhelming experience though. It was more how clever the interplay between them both was, managing to create innovation, complementary exchanges and adding weight to the sound without creating a wall of bashing noise. The tight drumming of ‘Drop Out’ with that military style salvo is a joy to behold, especially when the rest of the instrumentation rejoins proceedings and keeps time with it. Also on Spiral Shadow, the male and female vocals combination provide distance on some occasions but also a unified strength in others. The male vocal style reminds me of Kowloon Walled City a lot, which can only be a good thing in my book.

My quandary with this record is mainly down to perhaps the best-known track on here, ‘Don’t Look Back’. Each time I approach it in the track listing, I get the urge to skip it. Then it starts and I think it is not so bad and allow it to play. I am not sure quite where my issue with it comes from in all honesty. I certainly pick up on the similar sounding structure on other tracks on the record though which makes me wonder if it is some fluke regurgitation of an idea that ended up paying maximum dividends. It is not a bad track, far from it in fact. However, I can’t shake the sense of laziness that seems to fit its build and structure, even if performance wise I cannot fault it. That having been said, there is still plenty else to enjoy on Spiral Shadow and so I cannot let this one track pull down the overall rating of the record.

I have given Neverbloom around three spins over the past couple of days and it has grown on me, from my first impression at least. When they settle down into rhythm and riffage, there are some genuinely entertaining moments for me. Tracks such as ‘Widower’ and ‘Maelstrom’ standout as being high points in this regard and I suspect there could be more of these moments if the arrangement was just a little better thought through. I think the piano is perhaps the worst conceived part of the instrumentation, often it sounds like someone has started playing another track over the top of the current one and it does take a couple of seconds to reconcile that it is actually on the same track. The synths stab perfectly well to create a sense of theatre and drama where they get deployed, but for a “symphonic deathcore” record, I find it surprising how little focus the symphonic elements actually get.

Vocally there is nothing here to surprise me as it seems to be pretty standard deathcore fare in all honesty, but it is the riffs that are my only real positive takeaway from this record. They are by no means perfect, but they certainly do land a lot better than most of the rest of what is on offer. I get the sense that Make Them Suffer had some good ideas going into this one, and I am of course giving them some rope as this was their debut. However, the ideas never really shine as I suspect they could, appearing to be sacrificed by a confusing, if not outright disorientating arrangement problem that is something of a curse on the album I feel.

I listen to a lot of deathcore during my workouts nowadays and so I am perhaps a little more desensitised to The Revolution clan’s previous penchant to overwhelm this well-travelled metal head than I was some three or four years ago. Although Neverbloom does not land all that well with me, I still enjoyed the discovery experience and could be tempted by a listen to a later album to see if they did improve at all.

Named after the ancient Iranian prophet and philosopher, Zarathustra Spitama who was more commonly known as Zoroaster, this trio from Atlanta recall the sounds of Sleep, the progressive sludge of Kylessa and the doom/sludge combination of Unearthly Trance. All are great reference points of course; however, it is a stoner influence that sits strongest for me; even above that trademark sludge sound that Georgia was near-patented when Matador was released. My point is, there is a lot going on here. Yet this is not at the expense of order or structure, as Matador never does sound chaotic. Even during the frenzied mid-section solo of ‘Odyssey’ or the psychedelic sludge of ‘Firewater’, the levels of intensity may well reach critical mass, but they are always measured by a good mix of straight up stoner.

Just listen to the jangling leads of ‘Trident’ to understand why Matador is to all intents and purposes a very cool and incredibly pleasing record. There is a freedom to how the trio express themselves here, yet there is still a respecting of boundaries, a sense that we are not under any circumstances going to go left-field, but we are going to have a fucking good time still anyways. At the same time the calming sense of structure that embodies the album never feels like anyone is being safe or pensive about what they are playing either.

Whilst perhaps not as tantric as Al Cisneros of Sleep and Om fame, the cleaner vocals on Matador could easily be delivered by him. Listening to Matador soon got me in the mood for Om’s Pilgrimage record and that got a couple of spins this week as a result. I feel Matador engages me on the same level of connection that Pilgrimage manages to as both records can easily coast my soul into a peaceful bliss that it yearns for. Tracks such as ‘Old World’ develop a quick sense of familiarity and soothing repetition, whilst the scathing sludge of ‘Black Hole’ still carries that welcoming warmth also. There are not many albums that have grown on me as quickly as this one has. With its array variety of pace and tempos there is still an immense amount of genre stability about Matador, resulting in an experience that suffers from no jarring or obtuse moments. Equally though, this is a record that never becomes boring either.

If you read existing reviews of this album there seems to be a conflict of styles that undoes any possible value in the record before it even gets going. That is true. I am one hundred percent in agreement that sludge and hardcore just do not work together. The clash of tempos is too much conflict to be able to remedy, no matter how much of the heavy lifting the riffs do on the record. Still, I must admire the tenacity of Jamey Jasta. Whilst infamous for the less than desirable Hatebreed, and being one-dimensional in his vocal approach, the guy has wrked with seemingly everyone from Dee Snider to Lamb of God to Devin Townsend and of course his two-album collaboration with Kirk Windstein of Crowbar and Down.

Here, on KoS’ sophomore release he just sounds like an angry child that a sludge band brought to a recording session, and he wouldn’t shut the fuck up the whole time, so they just left his shouting as “vocals”. It is a shame when an album exhibits such potential in the form of those biting riffs, only to be let down by some other central element contending with them. Not that there’s much else going on across the record, the drums are tepid at best (which considering Nick Bellmore was part of Toxic Holocaust at the time is surprising to say the least) and if there’s any bass floating around in here then (Nick’s brother, Charlie) it is lost behind the guitars and vocals.

As a record this is a sorry sounding affair overall. Comments I have read bemoan how quickly this passes by, but for me I could not wait for the record to be over and done with as it was dragging on and on with every song.

The band Ufomammut and I have history, as anyone who has read my review of Idolum knows. Coming into Eve, my circumstances are very different. Gone are the nights away from home in hotels and the endless paperwork of the travelling consultant. Now I have more time to listen to music in the comfort of my own home than possibly at any other point in my life, and as such my dalliances with Eve have been from a much more stable and centered environment. That is not to say that there is a lot in the way that Eve sounds in comparison to Idolum, it is just that the experience of it lands differently, if no less positively than its predecessor.

If you are familiar with the Italians already, you’ll know that 2010 was very much the classic line up of the band. Existing as a trio since their sophomore release, Eve was back when Vita still did the drums (as he did until 2020). With a decade of releases under their belts, Ufomammut’s fifth album sounds like a band really hitting their stride. There is not one hint of hesitation in any of what gets performed here. Likewise, for a record that opens with a fourteen-minute track, Eve manages to hold the attention for the whole experience. Playing as on track split over five different headings that are named simply by numerical, chronological title, this forty-four-minute plus opus showcases the Italian’s brand of spacey, psychedelic rock combined with crushing and sludgy doom.

Driven by heavy bass presence and a mixture of haunting and grinding synths, Eve is an all-encompassing experience. Again, it takes me back to my days of listening to Hawkwind (almost inevitably) but there are plenty of more modern references to the metal in their sound with the likes of Sleep and Yob immediately springing to mind. I would usually find the more instrumental approach over such a decent run time an issue, but if I am honest, more vocals just would not work all that well if the band had decided to take a more lyrically expressive approach. This is music that speaks to me without the need for a lot of words and that my fellow Metal Academy students is a sign of a great record.

Despite a seemingly bottomless pit of a discography, I haven’t listened to all that many Thou releases in my time.  It is possibly the case that Summit is my first listen through a full length release from them in fact.  Subconsciously at least, I do tend to be wary of bands who constantly release material, acknowledging that whilst the tipping point may vary from band to band, eventually quality eventually is lost at the expense of quantity.  I would not say there is any issue with the quality of the material on Summit however, despite it taking me a few listens to grasp some of what is going on within the five tracks on offer.

I find that this is a release that has successful moments or key elements for me that I enjoy more than others.  For example, the fuzzy droning guitar on ‘By Endurance We Conquer’ is a real treat.  There are also instruments on Summit that I was not expecting the inclusion of.  ‘Grissecon’ starts of like a KEN Mode track with a slow picked intro, but there’s definitely a piano introduced once the track starts proper (which if my memory serves me correctly, was a feature on the last KEN Mode album I heard).  Credit is due to Thou for being able to combine the harsher elements of sludge with a keen ear for melody.  Whilst comparisons can be made to some of my sludge metal favourites such as Primitive Man or Coffinworm, these droning elements, the off-kilter instrument choices and the melodic plod that sits behind the music sets Thou apart from the crowd.

Considering the shortest track is over eight minutes long, disregarding the instrumental that closes the album, there is no sense of Thou kicking their heels during these lengthy offerings.  The band show a high level of patience in their builds to tracks and are unafraid to stick with a level once they find the ceiling of where they want a track to operate from in the main.  The enduring misery of ‘Prometheus’ needs no pace beyond a lurching stagger to make its point for the most part (again, there’s a violin or cello somewhere in the background here too).  A special mention goes to the drummer on this track for making interesting patterns, runs and fills without becoming a distraction from the crushing nature of the song.  The depths of despair that are explored on this track are underlined by tortured guitar melodies that drone across the track brilliantly.

It will no doubt take further listens before I can say that I connect totally with Summit.  There are lingering doubts in my mind that the mixed instrumentation adds a little too much of an “artsy” element to the sound that is necessary for the messaging but at the same time a little off-putting to a sludge fan like myself.  As a starter for ten though, Summit has been a good introduction to Thou and marks a good foundational point for me to explore the discography further in the coming months.  Notwithstanding that I will be selective in my future choices with such a vast quantity of releases to choose from.  The guard it still up in that sense, protecting the chin.

I have a real soft spot for the often-ridiculous fantasy artwork of heavy metal albums from the eighties. Asgard’s one and only album release from 1986 has enough levels of grandiosity on its artwork to make up for a whole career of albums that never where made. A muscular warrior, barely clothed in a loin cloth stands, bow drawn back ready to take down another mountain crocodile that is somehow completely out of its natural habitat and is attacking him and his cleavage proud princess fawns at his feet. Yeah, the eighties weren’t the best for gender equality, were they? That is not to knock the quality of the artwork by any means. Personally, I think it looks fantastic, and I was sad to read of the passing of the artist responsible for this amazing piece, Ken Kelly in 2022. He is of course better known for his excellent work on Manowar covers as well as The Gates of Slumber and even Satanic Warmaster. If this was a review of the album artwork, then it would be a solid four out of five-star rating.

Sadly, despite their best efforts, Asgard’s musical prowess doesn’t quite match the exploits of the cover artist. In short, In the Ancient Days is all over the place. As with most speed metal albums, there is a fine line being walked between traditional heavy metal and speed metal. In the Ancient Days tends to follow this same pattern accordingly. A mixture of Venom sneer creeps into the vocals of Rene Tholen, teetering on the brink of the over-theatrical on tracks such as ‘Witches Brew’ and ‘Hounds of Hell’ (the version on YouTube has either a skip from a vinyl rip or there’s a terrible edit job on the actual record just before the twenty-minute mark). Yet at the same time, the riffs on this record are superb examples of the heyday of thrash/speed metal. Remembering that this record is now forty-years old, there is a heavy element of nostalgia in my feature selection this month in The Pit.

Being more at the extreme end of metal in terms of my listening habits, the more thrashy/speed metal elements are where I find highlights on In the Ancient Days. The drama could easily be left at the door for me, along with the acoustic (flamenco?) guitar of the interlude ‘Granadinas’ which is crudely placed as the penultimate track on the record. Whether this should be considered as some intro to the anthemic sounding album closer ‘Metal Tonight’ I am unsure but the combination of these two tracks at the end of the album does leave a sour taste in my mouth to finish the album on. I am unaware as to why Asgard lasted for only one album. The ability was there on the debut, albeit not terribly well showcased overall and I sense if the talent could have been grown over subsequent albums then we might have heard the name Asgard more over the years.

Despite not being a fan of melodic death metal or progressive metal, here I am writing a review for an album that is tagged as Progressive Melodic Death Metal.  My interest in (trying to) check out all the feature releases each month has certainly paid dividends with The Infinite feature release having enjoyed a fair old amount of plays this past week.  If I was pressed to sum up why I have enjoyed The Immortal so much, I would call out the rich and full sound that is on display.  The album is by no means a perfect, or even complete package, yet it carries enough positive markers as it plays for me to continue to come back to it.

One of the unexpected positives for me are the clean vocals.  A fan of the more aggressive style of vocals that occupy the more extreme ends of the metal spectrum, on this occasion the clean vocals work better than the more traditional growls.  I have to agree with Saxy in that the harsh vocals are lacking somewhat.  The opening track manages to hit this vocal sweet spot early on in the album and as it continues to play it almost becomes a contest between the two styles, with the cleaner elements a clear victor.  If I then factor in other moments such as the groovy riff of ‘The Sojourner’ and the post-metal palate-cleanser that follows on ‘Moonless Sky’ as well as the excellent strutting of ‘The Hounding’, I soon have multiple positives to talk to.

I would however like the lead work to have more direction.  What often starts off as luscious sounding injections of melody, never quite seem to expand into any established endpoints.  This sense of going nowhere is frustrating, notwithstanding that there is plenty of melody still over the album as a whole.  I do feel however that the standout moments as a result are limited and that more interesting lead work, as well as perhaps less harsh vocals would have helped here.

Initially, I dismissed this album when pulling together my list of bm releases for last year. In hindsight, I think I was having a bad black metal day and was far too dismissive of this album, basing my distaste solely on the clean vocals that are at best occasional across the track listing. Having spent much more time with Existenialismus over the past week, there have been times when I have considered whether I missed a hidden gem in my haste to expunge the album from my listing. That is not to say that I don’t still have challenges with the cleaner elements that can appear quite amateurish (‘Truth is as Sharp a Sword as Vengeance’ being the main bug bear I have), however whilst they do peg the rating back somewhat, it is more than a little dramatic of me to dismiss the album outright on the basis of their existence alone.

The fact remains that Abduction are a fantastic modern sounding black metal band. The record strays well into territory already occupied by the likes of Mgla, Gaerea and even the chaotic black/death of Grave Miasma. With all these acts being brought to mind whilst listening to Existentialismus. The Derby outfit (appears to be one main member and some guest/session musicians on this album) put in an accomplished performance, sounding like a band who have been at it for a decade or so who have used that time to hone the listeners experience of them. I could not go as far as to call Existentialismus perfect, but it is still a treat of black metal extremity.

Able to apply melody and at times subtle groove (‘Blau ist di Farbe der Ewigkeit’) to the riffs on the album alongside wonderfully squally tremolos shows versatility in the kit bag. Whilst the cleaner sounding aspects do still alienate me, their appeal to fans of the lighter sounds of the genre is not lost on me either. With tracks like ‘Razors of Occam’ leaning into BAN territory, Abduction keep stretching their legs right until the album’s final, and best track, ‘Vomiting at Baalbek’. If more of the tracks sounded like this one the rating here would be even higher.

I came into this record with only a very vague outline knowledge of Astarte having rated their Demonized album from 2007. As far as I am aware, tragedy struck the band when founding member Tristessa passed away in 2014 following complications from leukaemia. The band changed their name because of this back to Lloth which was their original name back in 1995. This once all-female band is now all male but dedicated to the memory of Tristessa. A decidedly much colder of black metal awaited me here than I was perhaps expecting from a Greek black metal band. Devoid of the Hellenic ‘warmth’ normally associated with that country, I soon found myself in the colder climes of Scandinavia instead.

Herein lies one of the problems with Rise from Within, it does very little to stand out from the crowd in its sound. It is all well played, if not that well-arranged at times, perfectly listenable black metal with a symphonic edge. However, it does lack memorability because of its chosen niche being already well-populated with other bands doing very similar things. My second issue is opening the album with an instrumental track that is so damn long! Those four-and-a-half-minutes need some vocals to keep me interested. The random switch to synth driven passages just adds to my confusion really.

The rest of the album has a couple of instrumentals littered throughout the track listing, but they are much shorter in duration and much more strategically placed in the middle and end of the record. What occurs in between shines much brighter, albeit in that coldest of lights, by way of comparison. It is almost as if there was a different band altogether recording tracks two through nine. Limited though the scope of the music may be, it is still well enough performed to give the rating a respectable mark overall. Kinthia’s vocals are suitably deranged for the style of music and the riffs and synths work well together, only the programmed drums get lost a bit in the mix but oddly I don’t notice this as much as I feared. I should probably go back to Demonized given I cannot believe they became so bad over seven years that they ended up at 2.5 rating after five albums.

Having established a more pagan and then viking metal sound since their 1997 album, Following the Voice of Blood, Graveland had fully established this style as their signature sound by the turn of the century and their fifth full length album, Creed of Iron. With Capricornus no longer on drums, Rob Darken truly was the sole creator of this record. Originally a five-track album, there exists a remastered version from 2009 that added two tracks to the end of the album making it over an hour long and it is this version that seems to be widely available on streaming services. Whichever version you find in front of yourself, it is not just the length of the record that makes it an epic experience. The tracks themselves are grandiose testimonies to the toils of war and the legendary battles of old, expansive and aggressive in equal parts.

The balance of the instrumentation is well maintained over the course of the album. It feels like each instrument gets a fair crack at the limelight with none being allowed to steal the show outright. As such there is a real sense of depth to Creed of Iron. It is not just about medieval sounding keys and the flourishes they are allowed to make; the riffs get just as much presence against the swell of these Middle Age atmospheres. Care sounds like it has been given in mixing these elements together to create an experience never feels artificial, simply put it is a very complementary record in terms of its composition.

Now, the artwork leaves a lot to be desired I will grant you. It certainly fits the battlefield billing of the record, but I would encourage anyone to not be too put off by the artwork in thinking that this represents a primitive album as this is clearly not the case within a few minutes of clicking/pressing play. Having listened to the extended version of the album also now, I do not think that the two additional tracks add anything remarkable to the album. In its original format, Creed of Iron is a perfectly solid viking/pagan bm record.

Like its predecessor, Lead and Aether has proven a great accompaniment on winter walks this weekend as the northwest of England sees its first snow of the season. That is not to say that this is a cold sounding record by any means, in fact I find the exact opposite experience to the record. To me this is the sickening warmth of a hug from the arms of death itself. It is comforting to witness, how I imagine the release of all worry, stress and adversity of life would feel at the very moment of conscious expiry of one’s existence. Far from finding the funereal keys and monolithic melodies oppressive, I take a great solace from this album, therefore.

This record plays as an instrumental in my head, the vocals are so low in the mix, consciously so I would guess, that I am almost ignorant them for much of the album. Normally I would find this as a negative point, a key missing feature almost, but here I think it works perfectly. Good funeral doom to me is about letting the music build the aesthetic and atmospheres, the vocals are just a complementary element in comparison. Equally, I think Skepticism got the placement of the drums correct here. Whilst not as absent from my mind as the vocals are, the drums provide the very definition of a subtle supporting role here. How many bands can say that they have successfully used drums o create space and atmosphere on a record?

There is always a danger that with such a minimalist approach to music, particularly extreme genres like this, that the recording can end up sounding amateur. I would argue that the opposite is in fact true here. This sounds like a thoroughly professional album, composed with care and thought for overall arrangement. Maintaining that gloomy warmth for me over the entire album duration is a real win here, but there are a couple of moments where tracks seem to end up a little disjointed (album closer, ‘Aether’ stands out for this) which just takes the perfect score aware from an otherwise brilliant release.

Andrew Jay Harris cuts a lonely figure in the already isolative world of black metal. In 2002 when he confirmed that Judas Iscariot was no more, he had already given the band’s albums back to the labels who released them and took no money in return, asking that any money be put back into the underground. When he played his last show with the band in 2000, he dedicated "The Black Clouds Roll Under the Parapet of the Sky" (from the “Distant in Solitary Night” album from 1999) to "the destruction of the capitalist scum who tried to destroy black metal." This EP from the same year as that final performance (released just 3 months later) is once again largely performed by Akhenaten himself, except for the drums that Cryptic Winter (Duane Timlin) is credited with delivering.

Anyone familiar with Judas Iscariot will find similar fare over these five tracks when compared with the rest of the discography. Judas Iscariot’s sound is cold, ice cold, with cymbals that sound like discs of frozen water being shattered each time they are struck. The drums on their own are a vicious assault to contend with, even before we get to the scathing attack of the guitar and harsh, abrasive and gloriously grim vocals. However, take time dear listener to marvel at the slowly decaying pace of the instrumental track, ‘March Upon a Mighty Throne’ that revels in drab and dank majesty before the chaos of a “Special Blitzkrieg” version of ‘Spill the Blood of the Lamb’ from the “Heaven in Flames” album (1999) rounds off what feels like a really short twenty-one-minutes.

Legendary death doom outfit, Cianide are one of my criminally underrated bands with them rarely getting anywhere near as much spin time as they deserve. This EP coming up in the feature release section this month has been a timely kick up the arse to remedy that for a few hours at least. Unhumanized is only a shade under twenty-six-minutes long and perhaps is not the Chicago trio at their absolute best, yet it is still a bruising and entertaining affair to listen to.

Coming out thirty-one-years after the band first got together, Unhumanized has the hallmarks of an established and mature band. The riffing sounds perfectly crafted and richly performed to accentuate the crunch and groove of the guitar of Scott Carroll. For a band with only one guitarist, he is clearly more than enough, and the mix lets him sit front and centre in proceedings alongside the barking of vocalist Mike Perun. The percussion is less prominent than the guitar and vocals but still does a fantastic job in the background. Check out the punky vibes on the title track for an example of how this is not just a standard death metal release.

Offering some of the best in extreme metal that the underground has to offer, Cianide give a decent enough acquittal of themselves on this release to pique the interest of any fan wanting to go and look at their earlier work. With a discography going all the way back to 1992 when their debut record dropped, this taster of the modern Cianide has enough of their familiar sound to tie it back to their earlier releases. Love me a short EP every now and again to whet the appetite for some further death metal listening afterwards.

Italian speed metallers Bulldozer have never featured very highly in my listening within the realms of The Pit clan. Whilst I would not put their limited airplay down to any problem they present to me, at the same time, I cannot pretend to have ever been overwhelmingly entertained by any of the stuff I have listened to from them. The Final Separation doesn’t put a foot wrong as such, yet nor does it tread anywhere particularly new or even influential either. At times reminiscent of Venom (‘The Cave’) whilst on other occasion being just as close to Motörhead, the album lacks any of the rhythmic riffs that would steer it in the direction of thrash metal and as a result I would suggest the thrash metal tag is irrelevant for this album.

If you a connoisseur of eighties speed metal, then The Final Separation probably holds more sway for you than it does with me after over three decades of listening to metal; I left this sound behind a long while ago I feel. Whilst I am not alien to humour in my metal music, tracks like ‘Don Andras’ are just juvenile to my ears these days. Serving only to break up the otherwise very similar tempos of tracks to this point, this song has little value and stinks of filler.

With, ‘Never Relax’ at least offering some hope of variety for the second half of the album, I could have been forgiven for thinking I was being a little too harsh on the first few tracks. It is cumbersome though and feels pieced together as opposed to a free-flowing track. ‘Don’t Trust the Saint’ is the nearest to thrash metal we get to on the album, but it bounces more than it chops and my interest soon wanes. Final track ‘The Death of Gods’ grumbles some promise of an epic closure to the album, however this is soon lost in an overly grandiose soundscape that pushes my interest onto other things in the room.

Thundering out of Berkshire, England to truly throw a spanner in my ‘EoY Fallen Album List’ come atmo-sludge quintet, Dimscûa. I would say that 2025 has been the year that I started to explore atmospheric-sludge metal for the first time, its calmer post-metal tendencies offset nicely by the harsher vocal attacks and smothering heaviness of the riffs that are my usual (and still preferred) listening fodder. Listening to Dust Eater sort of feels like I am in familiar territory nowadays which has most certainly helped me warm to it quickly. Hidden behind the straight delivery and more subtle sections, there is a sense of the epic going on also though which adds extra interest into proceedings.

This may just be clever use of guitar tone in all honesty, with some well-placed chiming effect adding some positive volume to the already doughty performance. Dust Eater is delivered with an attack that brings to my mind that each of the band members are grinning with each blow they make in their flannel shirts and jeans – another image I have in my head for some reason. Whilst I cannot describe the EP as uplifting, it does possess a pragmatic approach that gives the music a sense of being constructive without being restrictive. There’s no question that the band have gears they can get through, but they are always in full control, not just when ticking over in first or second gear.

The poignancy in the strings that open the final track, ‘On Being and Nothingness’, set against that haunting ambience that drifts through the background of the track, shows a band who can play with real emotion in their performances. Whilst the subject matter may explore darker tropes, the five-piece are unafraid to display the inherent beauty that can still be found in the themes of grief or loss. Of the content of this sub-genre that I have heard this year, Dimscûa chart pretty highly to my ears.

This ‘atmospheric sludge’ tag that has grown legs in recent years is one that adorns the chests of Chicago’s The Atlas Moth from as far back as their 2007 inception. Granted, I can hear sludge in their sound as well as also being able to hear atmospheric textures, but at the same time there is the intimation of so much more over the course of An Ache for the Distance. Pure doom and stoner metal make an appearance alongside an obvious 70’s rock influence making the album something of a devious demon to contend with. It renders the genre tagging somewhat irrelevant, not that I am even sure how seriously the band themselves pay much attention to whether their sound is ‘atmospheric sludge’ or not.

What is clear on this record is that the performance is unforced, cohesive and very relaxed. It is an album that sounds like a band working free of any boundaries in all honesty which leads to this sense of flow as elements manage to compliment each other nicely. Even with three guitars in play, there is a constant coherence to proceedings. This trio of axes is thoughtfully layered, proving many moving parts can work. Whether it is the post-metal pickings alongside psychedelic loops that ooze through, or the elements of the harsher riffs, there is order to them.

I do struggle with this album though. For as much as I can recognise the quality on display, it does move styles a little too often for me, killing a lot of memorability in the process and leaving sections of the album feeling like they are wandering as opposed to progressing. After a few listens to the album, I could not fight the feeling of it getting stuck in a no-man’s land; unable to shape the obvious promise into a consistent theme. Take the brilliant final third of ‘Your Calm Waters’, a section that shows clear direction but the effort of listening to get there is taxing for me.

It is only the final track, ‘Horse Thieves’ that resonates in its Yob-like glory to the point of finally giving the album some real grounding. That big, slow and doomy riff, alongside the melancholic melody sees both elements played to a tortuously drawn-out pace. The trumpet here, although unexpected, fits well. It gives a soothing drone during the growing chaos of the track. It is a positive note to end on at least, and whilst I cannot reach for my higher scores on this one, The Atlas Moth do enough in terms of their clear quality of playing to manage to also keep the album well away from the lower end of my scores also.

Black metal releases from my more established favourites in 2025 have been mixed affairs. After the recent disappointment with the new BAN record and my growing distance from Drudkh’s offering this year, my EOY black metal list is full of a few less than familiar faces this year. Enter Canadian one-man outfit, Nordicwinter. By all accounts still very much a recent discovery of mine from the past three or four years, it is up to him to maybe forge a space in the top 10 or top 20 of my list for this year.

The early signs are good. The stabbing melancholy of ‘Whispers of the Frozen Abyss’ is a delicious interjection in the slow-moving pace of the track, emphasising the harrowing tone of the guitar brilliantly. With the haunting, yet strangely calming opening of ‘The Howling Void’ perfectly setting the track up for an exploration of a truly vast and dark space indeed. It is clear, even at this early stage of proceedings, that evillair is not deviating away from his established sound that I have experienced over all his albums to date. This traversal of a well-trodden path as something I was particularly critical of the latest BAN record for doing. However, by way of context, Nordicwinter is no experimental artist. Over multiple releases he has honed his sound to the point where I personally do not want it change. As a result, a Nordicwinter album is something of a safe space for me.

I am expectant of the inclusion of a morose sounding piano. Greeting those slow-picked strings with welcoming arms as the notes appear through the thick atmospheres of the tracks. The depressive melodies resonate through the speakers into my very soul, ironically filling me full of emptiness. As usual, production values are high and all the instruments are audible in the mix to the point where they can easily be picked out. This is the standard that evillair has set over eight albums and I doubt I would ever want it to change.

His ghastly, rasping vocals never stray into clean territory and this is an important feature for maintaining the darkness in the core black metal sound. Thankfully, Solitude sticks to a core atmo-black vibe, staying well away from gaze and post-metal territory. The album possesses a great comfort for me, something that only actual solitude itself can usually offer. As someone who revels in my own company, easily going for days without seeing or hearing from anyone, this album is the very embodiment of the state that its title uses. Time alone with your own thoughts and reasoned choice is precious, permitting you to ponder your own mortality and contemplate what is important to your very existence. That’s the setting for how I will endeavour to enjoy this album moving forwards.

The latest BAN album is not the conclusion to the Disharmonium series then, instead it sounds more akin to the Memoria Vetusta era of the band with its sweeping atmospheric black metal. Devoid of some of the elements that can make the band such a tricky prospect at times, Ethereal Horizons feels like a bit of a safe record in the sense that it does little to expand on the established sound of the band, electing to stick with a tried and tested formula with perhaps a couple of nuances for variety’s sake. As I said in my review of Hallucinogen, there is a sense that BAN can release anything and it would still get lauded from a brand perspective anyways. That probably sounds a bit harsh, especially given the fact that there is nothing wrong with their latest opus, in fact it sounds just as accomplished as anything else they have done. A comparison to any of the Memoria Vetusta records is no shaming benchmark either, but there is a sense of the band now just getting a little too close to that sound on too regular a basis though.

Familiarity should not always breed contempt though. Barring perhaps A Flock Named Murder, The Great Old Ones or (at a push) Veilburner, there are not many releases from this year that can hold a candle to Ethereal Horizons in terms of dissonant expansionism. Granting that the cleaner, post-punk vocals do add a different dimension to BAN when comparing them to any of the other black metal brethren that are active in the same year as one of their releases, the soaring melodies, haunting atmospheres and crisp, clean notes are probably all unrivalled is the brutal reality. Whilst the sound may lack the cold abrasiveness of the black metal of Leviathan, the ambient passages are more than a match for Wrest’s.

Ethereal Horizons plays with a warmth at its heart which is a rare description for a BAN record. I find it hard to source any glacial emptiness for any reasonable length of time across these seven tracks. Instead, I am left with an almost tepid version of Greek black metal, only without the Hellenic temperature being present. The almost electronic nature to the tremolo on ‘What Burns Now Listens’ borders on the serene with its sheer shrillness. In many ways, in the face of this positivism, I do find myself longing for the protracted hopelessness of the 777 trilogy or the sheer avant-garde ugliness of MoRT, let alone perhaps the cold industrial atmosphere of The Work Which Transforms God. Hell, even the second Disharmonium album held a more threatening sound for me to admire.

Despite its obvious qualities therefore, I still find Ethereal Horizons somewhat slips through the cracks somewhat. I cannot fault the effort and will remain respectfully flummoxed at the unfathomable depths of imagination that it takes to create an album like this. The feeling that I have heard so much of it before is nigh on impossible to fight though and hence I am already looking for the conclusion to the much more promising Disharmonium trio of albums.

Hot on the heels of my time with the atmospheric intensity of Amenra with Mass V, I found myself embroiled in the more obtuse variant of sludge metal that is Celeste’s 2010 album, Morte(s) Née(s). Well, I say sludge metal, but there is much more on offer here with the ferocious elements of black metal and hardcore present also. Coupled with the unrelenting delivery that the band deploys, Celeste manages to cook up a real treat here. I noted from various sources that the band have a remixed version of the record due out soon that boasts a “heavier, better, darker” version “than the last time”. I have no idea what drove the need for a remix as I find the 2010 version works as it is.

That is not to say that the listening experience has not been without challenges, but some of that is more to do with how I listen to music as opposed to anything Celeste does wrong. I am a pest lately for listening to albums in piecemeal. Whether that is due to a short car journey or a lot of work meetings filling my day, there is a regular risk of me missing out on whole album experiences of late. This “attention creep” affected my enjoyment of Morte(s) Née(s) initially, leading my to falsely believe that the album lacked variety. With such a direct and aggressive approach to their art, failure to pay full attention to Celeste can easily lead to a “sameness” factor creeping into the listening experience if you are just zoning in an out. I will accept that the album is not dripping with variety, but I cannot deny that there is mastery in the control of pacing and tempo that you only pick up on with some critical listening.

Whilst it can be viewed as a very jarring experience, the album never falls into all out-chaos territory. At all times there is a solid percussion section and those buzzsaw guitars possess restraint that is not instantly obvious on the first couple of listens. I think the drums do suffer a little in the mix and that the production job itself does have this wavering edge to the instruments which sounds like the speakers might be going on the blink at times. Yet the impressive building horror of tracks such as ‘(s)’ is so well put together, combining tremolos, big bold riffs and samples plucked out of Hammer Horror that you cannot fail to be impressed.

I would like more of a connection with the album if I were honest. With so many elements that I can lap up gleefully, I do still sense some distance between me and the album to be able to say it is likely to be revisited on a regular basis. I cannot go as far as to say it is alien to me in places, and it could be that some of that “attention creep” that I spoke about earlier is the fault of the album after all. It is hard to put my finger on a bad element though and so the misdirection is possibly due to the combination of parts not hitting my buttons in quite the correct order.

For an album that is forty-minutes long, Mass V sub-consciously plays as an EP in my head as the run time appears to go much quicker than that over the four songs on the album. I am not entirely sure if this is because I lose presence with it on too frequent a basis, but even under a few critical listens the effect is the same. My overarching impression from my first few listens has been that the balance of styles is well executed. Amenra drop pure doom riffs seemingly from out of nowhere, whilst constructing with studious detail post-metal passages that ease between more sludge-driven moments, still retaining the overall sense of unease in the process of the ebb and flow.

Tracks such ‘Dearborn and Buried’ are real tense experiences, the atmospherics doing little to ease the sensory overload that comes from the consistent sense of threat in the sound. With desperation a key impression that comes out of the listening experience, especially in the vocal department, I feel that I get to this understanding by way of the sense of conflict between the instrumentation and the vocals. If I use a Stoic philosophical comparison to demonstrate. If we consider life as a crashing and bashing tide that batters against the rock (us) and that we must try to remain steadfast in the face of such hardship, then it is easy to bill the deranged nature of the vocals as being the tide on the instrumentation. Given the obvious talent on show in Amenra though, they cleverly switch this to have the vocals remaining strong against the assault of the instruments.

Yet at the same time, if you take the ending of ‘Boden’ as an example, then it is also clear that both elements can be wielded with great effect, creating the tumult of the storm onto the listener who is now being used as the rock in our example. This “good cop/bad cop” routine works well because it avoids being a disruptive force in the musc. With the epic length of ‘A Mon Áme’ deploying an agonising build-up of over ten minutes, I do sense a weakness in the Amenra line. Whilst it is exhilarating when the riffs and percussion do finally ignite, the length of time to get there feels unnecessary in the end given you can easily predict it is coming.

Thankfully, the balance is restored on final track, ‘Nowena | 9.10’ with what is the most Neurosis-influenced track on the record. Clear in its emotional depth, the riff and percussion structures are quite simple in comparison, and this juxta positioning works well. For me, this is the standout track on the album and is a perfect closer to proceedings. So, having come into Mass V in a dismissive mindset following my experience of the two Eps that the band released this year, this record has restored my interest in them. The album possesses an unusual level of accessibility given its chaotic approach at times. The succinct track listing helps this accessibility as well as belying the level of intelligent songwriting that is on display.

Having completely missed his debut solo outing from five years ago, I can thank the algorithm gods for placing Kirk Windstein’s sophomore effort into my feed suggestions. With 2025 being the year that I finally got to grips with doom as a sub-genre, and with Crowbar being something of an unsung sludge favourite of mine, I soon found myself approaching Ethereal Waves with a heightened sense of excitement. Whilst I cannot profess to being massively in love with Kirk’s vocal style, his riff mentality more than floats my boat.

As expected therefore, Ethereal Waves is stocked full of riffs. Soon enough I was nodding along respectfully, appreciating the Iommi-inspired chugs as they landed consistently in front of me. Not that this is solely what the record I about by any means. Windstein has some straight up heavy metal on display here also which makes for a positive slant on the aesthetic of the album overall. For all the misery that exudes from tracks such as ‘Eulogy’ there is enough mid-paced activity, including an unexpectedly upbeat cover of The Beatles’ ‘Eleanor Rigby’, to keep things interesting. Whilst the doom credentials are hard to ignore on the album, it does contain some depth for the bullet belt and denim cut trad metallers out there.

Having former Exhorder guitarist, Vinnie LaBella provide leads, as well as producing the record, certainly adds character to proceedings along the way. Whilst not exceptional, the solos are able to paint some further emotion into songs, that makes up for the singular style approach that Kirk has around his vocals. Lyrically, the album isn’t all that strong and they do come across as half-baked, if not borderline amateur on a couple of occasions. However, I am not here for the lyrics, more the huge riffs and those enriching leads. During the past few days of listening through this album, I have at the same time been visiting Dream in Motion and I have concluded that Ethereal Waves is a step up from the debut.

Possessing more memorability than its predecessor, Ethereal Waves avoids the need for catchiness still, coming off as a more succinct listening experience as a result. The instrumentation is well balanced across guitars, percussion and keys. The Hammond Organ sound on ‘Rise from the Wreckage’ is an absolute joy to my ears. For all the positives, I still only like the album, I am not madly in love with it. Whilst it most certainly is accessible enough without being mainstream, it lacks any true bite to make it outstanding at any point. We still have a perfectly respectable album from one of sludge metals legends, albeit him showing a softer side than usual in some places.

“This is the album Drudkh should have released this year.” That is what I wrote in my comments cell in my spreadsheet when listening through the first couple of runs of this album. There are a couple of reasons behind that statement. Firstly, Stworz sounds pretty much the same as Drudkh, vocally and musically. Therefore, it is easy to get stuck in treating U śmierci na komornem as the album the Ukrainians failed to release this year. Secondly, and most importantly, it is much more direct and immediate than Shadow Play. For an artist advertised as atmospheric/pagan black metal and neofolk there is some real grit behind the stylings of Stworz. Think Swan Road era Drudkh and you are (again) at a relevant benchmark. Wojsław, is also one half of Polish atmospheric black metallers, Wędrujący Wiatr and anyone familiar with his excellent work there will not be surprised to hear the quality of his song craft in his solo work. Involved in several other projects, Stworz is his longest running artistic stream. Since 2007 he has produced now seven albums alongside various EPs and splits, easily falling into the classification tag of “prolific” with his musical output.

U śmierci na komornem, flows effortlessly both in-track and across the whole album. Seemingly with an inexhaustible level of endurance, the album just keeps going, workmanlike, for ten tracks over fifty-five-minutes. It is hard to find fault in such a devotional level of commitment to one’s artform when it clearly translates into such quality output. Stworz thinks about balance too. Although the folk/pagan elements are present, they are not forced into tracks. Instead, they complement the more aggressive direction, acting almost as a connection (hook even) to a more simplistic yet endearing form of music. Even the instrumental, interludes work well here, although I note on the CD version the final track is some nine-minutes long as opposed to the near three-minutes on the digital version, so the final track might not be all instrumental depending on the version you have.

We are getting to the point in the year where my top 20 albums in black metal are about to be culled to a top ten, which is a sign of a good year if I am having to narrow that number down. Looking at the other artists in the running, Stworz more than hold their own against the other contenders. U śmierci na komornem matches the passion of Gràb’s Kremess, it drives along the same earthy paths as Havukruunu’s Tavastland, exists in the same atmospheric hue as Afsky’s Fællesskab and carries the same level of maturity so obvious on A Flock Named Murder’s Incendiary Sanctum. Without constructing unfathomable complexity or alienating sounds, Stworz’s album blends styles sublimely. It creates atmosphere without getting into ethereal spaces that come across as lofty or overdone. Above all it feels like it was made for you, the listener. It has personality.

Following their debut album from 2021, Malakhim have added a follow up to their discography. My review of their debut, Theion cited a lack of “oomph” to proceedings as being the main spanner in the works on what was an otherwise solid effort. This time around, taking a unique slant on Satanism in the sense that the Devil lives in our very own hearts, singing. The sophomore picks up largely where the debut left off, with the Watain similarities soon easy to pick up on once again. That tempestuous intensity, coupled with the trademark melodicism that is also present makes for a great combination.

There is a timeless nature to black metal in general. With so many artists and albums available in just a few clicks of a mouse it is easy to get lost in the glut of repetitive releases that make up this genre of metal. What releases like And in Our Hearts the Devil Sings can do though is show us that there is nothing wrong in framing something established (there’s no reframing happening here) if you can balance that well executed musicianship and quality song writing. There is a sense of individualism to each of the seven tracks on the album. All still play their part in the overall album experience, showcasing that all too familiar black metal beast that fans of the conventional form will know and love. However, there is a strength that rarely yields across these tracks. This gives the album a sense of completeness. As such this is a very consistent album, built on very firm foundations that can endure the weight of its own expectations that it sets very early on in the record.

The missing “oomph” that I levelled criticism at their debut for misplacing has most certainly been added this time around and it is always good to see a band grow from release to release. Tale the second track, ‘Solar Crucifixion’ that goes with a blinding intensity level from the off but achieves great balance as it goes, placing a suitable reduction in pace appropriately before resetting itself back on the hellish path it first ventured out on. Whilst I would struggle to apply the word “epic” to any of the tracks here, there is certainly a sense of grandeur glancing across some of the songs, with album closer ‘The Firmament Submits’ being a particular high point on the record. Unafraid to embellish songs with leads, Malakhim do so without diluting the darkness that their music generally conjures up.

I can only hope that the band continue this upwards trajectory on future releases. Adding to both the power and the quality of their music shows that Malakhim are certainly going in the right direction. All eyes (well, mine anyway) on album number three then.

If there is one modern black metal act that I am guilty of neglecting, it is Lamp of Murmuur. Barring a brief flirtation with his debut and a cursory listen to Saturnian Bloodstorm, I have never really invested much time in one of black metal’s most talked about acts of recent times. Buoyed by the two singles that came out ahead of the new album, I made a note to ensure that I listen through the latest offering with a consciously critical ear. Amidst the dashing keys and chimes that accompany the riffs and grim (if not somehow watery sounding) rasps there is clearly more going on than any simple black metal album and so a critical ear is very much needed for this one. Background music this is not.

The Dreaming Prince in Ecstasy bases its core sound in the rudimentary elements of black metal. Embellished with the symphonic flourishes of Emperor it still retains the attack of Immortal whilst maintaining an often-simplistic approach to riffs. Where things do get interesting is when the post-punk elements come into play. Now, I personally enjoy post-punk and do have a few albums in my collection. The connection to black metal is not hard to make from a thematic perspective with angst, repression and societal decay (to mention but a few) being common across both sub-genres. That is not to say that LoM get the inclusion of this style correct in my view. As much as I accept that clean vocals can have their place in black metal, there placement on this album does feel off at times. Adopting that familiar Attila crooning style that I picked up on in the debut album, LoM again deploy this style here alongside some more cleaner singing. The cleaner parts work well on the more post-punk obvious tracks (‘The Dreaming Prince in Ecstasy Part I – Moondance’ & ‘The Dreaming Prince in Ectasy Part II - Twilight Orgasm’), yet there is a couple of occasions when they feel invasive and detract from the enjoyment of the track.

Overall though this fusion of styles is refreshing and is well balanced enough to still make this feel like a cohesive opus. Would the three tracks that make up the component parts of the title work as a standalone offering (as an EP, for example)? Hell yes. However, by being included on the album they show the variety available in the LoM arsenal. The lead work on Part III is sublime in a post-metal styling, yet the vocal element is classic Emperor to my ears. The more ambient parts are the only part of the album that is lost on me really, but even this may grow on me with repeated listens. It is just a shame for me that the album ends on a sour note since it is an acoustic number that stands out as being of different character to everything else present on the record.