Vinny's Reviews

Belgium is at it again. That often-forgotten corner of the global black metal community that likes to give it large with the synths to really add some atmosphere whilst still retaining the requisite amounts of rawness to remind us that production values still don’t mean diddly-squat. Forbidden Temple has seven years of marauding, atmospheric bm under their bullet belts. Espousing witchcraft and good old-fashioned paganism as some of their key topics of lyrical discussion, this trio (don’t really know how fulltime the keyboard guy is) now have two albums to their name. You will have to scour YouTube to find them, as they are released on suitably obscure and shadowy labels only (no Spotify or Apple Music quick search items here thank you very much).

In the Rotting Grave certainly sounds like it has been recorded south of ground level. It is full of dank riffs and lumbering synths. Creating doom-like atmospheres seems to be an organic output to what Forbidden Temple do. The opening to ‘Mephistopheles Nightmare’ with its choral accompaniment sounds perfect before it gives way to some solid riffs and haunting keys, the drums all the while are bashing away like some dementor with two bits of wood and a stool and some pedals. The Norwegian influence is still very clear throughout the record, with early Darkthrone being a clear similarity from the off. However, there’s some Mortuary Drape and Samael kicking around on here too. FT are all about the late 80’s and early 90’s bm scene baby.

Not much is known about the members of the band, yet it is clear where their hearts lie in terms of influence. Whilst the aesthetic is very DIY in terms of production the performances themselves have layers and textures. The result of this is that whilst In the Rotting Grave retains a distinctly murky and cold charm to it, utterly devoid of any grandiosity, at the same time it has a deep-rooted warmth to it that reminds me of Varathron also. This dynamic tends to hide in plain sight, adds to the constant sense of mystery and necrotic wonder of the album for me. I feel like I know exactly where I am going each time I listen to it, yet I hear something new each time I listen. Not that repeated listens uncovers new instrumentation or extrovert direction, more that subtle melody lurks in corners not fully explored the last time around.

So where does it sit in the year list? Well, it breaks into the top 20 without managing to challenge the higher scores, relying as it does on purely old school qualities to separate it from the pack to any degree. There is a lot to enjoy here however and I would suggest it will continue to be revisited for some months to come.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Katatonia have a special place in my listening habits nowadays.  The album Fall of Hearts has been of recent importance as it guided me through some of the darker times of a relationship breakdown over the past year.  The Dance of December Souls is also one of my favourite records of the sub-genre of the time, and whilst I cannot pretend to be massively in love with everything the band releases, a new release from them will certainly wind up on my rotation list for a period.  With a couple of singles circulated ahead of the main album release, I was already prepared for more of the same from modern day Katatonia.  Progressive elements, fused onto a main hull of alt-metal seem once again to be the order of the day.  Pace and tempos do vary but there is still that lumbering undertone to their sound that scratches some of that Fallen clan itch for me.

My favourite element of the band’s sound, Jonas’ pained vocals, are in fine form here.  Never getting into the pleading territory, nor are they bleating about unfairness or uncertainty, they paint a melancholy picture without grating.  For their largely monotone presentation, this consistency could easily end up grating, yet they compliment the darkness inherent in Katatonia’s sound so perfectly.  The other element that stands out this time are the superb guitar leads that haunt the record at various intervals.  Just as harrowing as the vocals, they are the perfect accompaniment.  Also, there are some quality riffs happening here on Nightmares of the Waking State.  Add in the power of the drums and you soon find yourself in that strange atmosphere of a subdued, yet deep and thoroughly entertaining experience.

The infectious (yet somehow not catchy) chorus line of ‘Temporal’ is a genuine joy that sticks in my head for days afterwards.  ‘Efter Solen’ is a sullen and moody track with a sneaky build that grows subtly in the background of the dreamy vocals and keys, exhibiting a crawling ambience as it goes along. There is a variety to album number fourteen from the Swedes, that we all absolutely expect by now, but it is all so mature sounding, without being boring.  The predominant colour of Nightmares as Extensions of the Waking State in my mind after multiple plays is still grey.  That monotone is filled with bursts of white, some of them brighter than others, yet there is no real burst of vibrant yellows, oranges or even reds and that is absolutely fine for me.  Another chord struck with me here.

With half an hour or so to kill on a Sunday morning, a thrash record was a perfect fit. A Costa Rican thrash metal in fact, and a none too shabby effort to boot. Having listened to probably a handful of thrash metal at best this year so far, Chemicide with their brazen artwork and equally bold thrash metal made for a welcome breeze through my lugholes this morning. With Costa Rica not being the hotbed of thrash metal of say Chile, it was interesting to hear some quality beyond the borders and shores of that ever increasingly impressive thrash metal nation.

Full of commentary and judgement on social injustice and violence, the band’s fifth full length offering has some real bruising rhythms and cutting edges to those riffs. With vocals straight out of the Mille Petrozza playbook, there’s a solid nod back to the foundations of the sub-genre on display. Placed alongside the racing riffs in the style of Slayer, with equally chaotic solos a la King and Hanneman at the peak of their powers also, Violence Prevails soon makes a name for itself. The drums and rhythm combination often reminds me of Sepultura in their Arise/Chaos A.D. days (that ringing guitar melody on ‘Parasite’ helps also).

The production job permits fullness to the sound across the instrumentation, with only the bass struggling for a bit of space. It is still audible though, just battling away in the background. Listen intently enough and you can hear it plonking away beneath the barrage of riffs that lead the attack for the most part. As you would hope it to be, the title track is a fucking blast end-to-end. This is what a title track should always do; totally underpin the album ethos in one succinct and well-placed moment on the record. With the energy levels already high going into the mid-point of the record, placing a banger in the center is key to advertising the longevity, or peak of the record.

Thankfully, what follows on from the title track represents no dip in energy or quality. If anything, tracks such as the franticly paced ‘Chokehold’ only up the ante on the record. This is not to say that Chemicide just focuses on face-melting intensity to get their message across. I mean, yes, it is an integral part of proceedings, this cannot be denied. However, the band controls the pace and tempos well, without sacrificing the intensity for the most part. The only real cooling-off section is during ‘Supremacy’ with its bass and picked strings opening, which soon give way to chopping riffs as the track builds superbly.

Closing the record with two (three if you have the corresponding version of the album) covers is a move that leaves me lukewarm in comparison to the rest of the record. I have never heard of Los Crudos and so cannot possibly know what justice Chemicide does to the track they cover. Metallica’s ’72 Seasons’ is a track I am vaguely familiar with after I sat through the abomination of the record that the track comes from, and, well…glitter on a turd is a phrase that springs to mind. I won’t let this unfortunate ending ruin what is otherwise a great discovery though, as a standalone record, with their own material, Chemicide are impressive.

With the arrival of a new Sargeist record in any given year, you can usually bank on this being a sign that the scene just stepped up a notch at that point in the year. In short, it is something I always consider to be a treat. It has been seven years since Unbound mauled our eardrums and if I am honest, I completely missed the following year’s EP, Death Veneration, so I do have some catching up to do. Flame Within Flame arrives in a year of strong releases so far and so quite how it fits into the year will be interesting to watch unfold in the coming months. There have been some lineup changes since the last record also, with Shatraug taking over vocal duties on a studio album for the first time since 2003 (‘frowning, Existing’ from Satanic Black Devotion). With Marko Hirvonen no longer on bass, it is up to Spellgoth (Horna) to fill this role, and the sticks are now in the hands of Decapitated Christ drummer, Alewar. Therefore, only VJS (Nightbringer) joins Shatraug from the previous album.

Has this shake up changed how Sargeist sound? Well not fundamentally no. this is still easily identifiable as the rich tremolo wielding, melodic black metal that we have all come to expect from Sargeist over the years. At the same time though, I do sense some loss of intensity in some moments. Shatraug’s disinterested sounding vocals take some getting used to in the main, but I still feel overall that proceedings are dialled down when compared with previous releases. This tame element could be down to a refreshed (rebuilt?) lineup of course but on the plus side there are many genuinely glorious moments to digest as well.

Tracks such as ‘Incandescence of the Funeral’ open with such a strong driving, melodic bm beginning that sees the band at their urgent and racing best. With a pace akin to racing horses, Sargeist do still have gas in the tank, that much is clear. It is increasingly questionable as the album goes on as to whether Shatraug has the vocal style to be able to compete with the rest of the group though. Whilst I cannot say that they make for a terrible listening experience, they certainly do go some way in acting as a distraction from some of the better executed elements of the record.

Still, listeners should take time to revel in the chiming majesty of the guitar on ‘To the Mistress of Blackened Magic’ as it dances like the darkest of incantations imaginable. Likewise, ‘Juravit Sanguine’ is another fine example of the rich melodic vein that runs through the band’s sound. This track is almost catchy; such is the level of accessibility here. So, all in all, a mixed affair if I am honest. Not their best, but then again instability is a cruel mistress it seems.

The chaos of Deathspell Omega lies at the very heart of what Portuguese black metallers, Serpentes ply as their trade. Whilst a lot less extreme in terms of the Avant Garde aspects of the sound, Desert Psalms still blusters with that dissonant majesty and imperious arrogance that seethes from the vocals. Reminiscent of Aosoth also about the vocals, there is a deep French connection running through what this (largely) one-man outfit does. Utilising Misþyrming’s drummer on the album is a definite boost to the professionalism on display, Magnús Skúlason puts in quite the shift here, even if you do have to listen intently to pick out his patterns in the frantic noise that smothers you from the off. All that having been said, I find Desert Psalms to be a very memorable experience and can easily recite sections of songs in my head. That’s the sign of a good album.

Fact is, this record has been kicking around my rotation list for a good few weeks now and there is a healthy number of listens under my belt on this one, given it has enjoyed at least one spin per week over the last two months. It is certainly an album that has benefited from repeat visits, with each trip into its darkest depths leaving me curious to come back for more each time. It is a record that I would say I hear more of each time I listen to it. At the same time, it now possesses a strong degree of familiarity also. Those mocking vocals are sublime to my ears each time they spit their derisory lyrics my way. The layers of riffs that dash at me like flicked knives bring welcome wounds as they breach my skin. All the while, the constant threat of something really unhinged getting ready to be unleashed keeps my nerves just on the edge of turmoil every time.

This promised menace never really surfaces, and that is okay, because it is part of the allure that I absolutely crave. If this album swung off into any aspect of total Armageddon inducing audible warfare, then it would lose all its mystery. Thankfully, Ainvar Ara plays his cards close to his chest for the main part, drawing out the tension with the piano key picked opening to the final track, teasing the listener until the very end. Overall, Desert Psalms does feel like a collection of sacred songs. A selection of anthems for followers of the darkest of art forms. A series of canticles for all that is unholy in the glorious world of black metal in which fans of the music inhabit.

One of the appeals of black metal music (beyond some of the rawer aesthetic stuff at least) is the sense of discovering some depth to the sound of a band, beyond mere tremolo riffs and blastbeats. This sense of the revealing of the arcane is what drives me in a lot of my listening nowadays. I should caveat that is not always a successful venture, for example this year alone I have been privy to a salsa infused black metal band (yes, really) which was absolutely every bit as awful as the description sounds, as well as another group who used a 10 string lyre as a centre-piece of their sound – equally as terrible as the other record, for the benefit of doubt. There is a point clearly then, where the understanding of something being better left to a select few is absolutely the best idea. The problem lies in releases where there are no jarring abnormalities to the sound, no obscure instrumentation or extreme Avant Garde tendencies. The ones that have a clear sound and direction, yet, despite the obvious quality of the musicians involved, still leave you with a sense of some barrier between you as the listener and the band as a message bearer.

Silver Knife’s self-titled album, their sophomore release, is one such release. Hailing from Belgium, France and the Netherlands, this supergroup of black metal ‘stars’ (Olmo Lipani of Déhà, Nicky from Laster, Hans Cools from Hypothermia are amongst the artists involved) play an atmospheric/post-black metal combination that constantly seems to be creating space as they play. Songs soon become soundscapes here, with the vocals of whichever one of the secretive five members overall is performing them giving the truer aspect of the black metal sound alongside the resonating tremolo riffs. Occupying an almost squally, alternative sounding edge at times, the guitars do an excellent job at driving the sound of Silver Knife along. The drumming is urgent, if not somewhat lost at times in the squall of the mix in general. As I am listening through to the album for the third time today, I think I have happened upon what holds me back from feeling like I have truly connected with the offering. I think the production job permits the guitar a little too much space at the expense of the drums and other parts of the sound in general.

There is almost a protective cover most of the instrumentation on this record that stops the real value of what I am hearing from quite landing. The vocal style reminds me of Fluisteraars, with that distance from them and the rest of everything else being very reminiscent of the style I experienced on many of the excellent releases from the Belgians. However, here the vocals do not quite attain the same sense of connection as a result, whereas with the former band the audible link feels much more solid. In fact, there’s a slight muffled edge to the sound here and that is a real shame because I absolutely can hear that Silver Knife have something important to say, it is just denied from being given its full voice.

Encyclopaedia Metallum lists the themes for French black metallers, Abyssal Vacuum as being ‘Occultism’ (promising) and ‘Caves’ (oh, right). With a slew of EP releases that are all titled with Roman numerals, their debut album has taken eight years to arrive – or VIII years to be exact. The opening track ‘Echo 43N-40E’ is a distinct enough start to the record. Male choral vocals haunt the mid-paced black metal which is punctuated by shouts and death/doom vocals to boot. This song naming convention holds a degree of mystery. All are coordinates ‘pinpointing a particular locale doubtlessly portending considerable occult energy…’ Or perhaps just a cave or two of course.

The guttural aspects of the vocals reverberate in your eardrums and those choral sections and shouts have a primitive edge about them, with the latter invoking some sense of occultists gathered in caves (of course). In all seriousness, aspects of the record do genuinely have a sense of deep underground or certainly hidden spaces where dark things are practised. The tremolos echo back from what sound like vast, almost fathomless spaces; sheer cliffs almost whose walls allow the sound to build constantly.

There’s an abundance of melodic yet mining leads alongside the riffs that cascade over solid percussive performances. These spurts of melody give a sense of light in an otherwise densely murky sounding album. Within all this atmosphere, there is still a well-structured drumming element that holds a welcome focus in the mix throughout the album. Abyssal Vacuum are a band playing music with atmosphere added as an additional layer, as opposed to a group of individuals starting with atmospheres as the dominant force in their sound and then playing some music as an afterthought. The album has an intense focus on form and composition, a fixation on sensible arrangement even. It is a mature and very enriching experience to listen to. The lavish layers that are present manage to compliment rather than smother the darker aspects of the sound. Clearly accomplished musicians over an extended format as well as over Eps, I hope the confidence of Abyssal Vacuum grows from this outing onwards.

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

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

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

Where does black metal stop? I mean just how much more black metal needs to be reproduced in the old school means and sound before the world eventually loses interest and we of the black kvlt retire to our holes and listen to A Blaze in the Northern Sky, In the Nightside Eclipse or De Mysteriis Dom Sathanas for the rest of our days? I jest of course. I have no desire to see the culmination of one of the most important metal movements of my lifetime at any point soon. However, even the most devoted corpse paint wearer must concede that there is a lot of black metal out there, and that a lot of it sounds the same. What is refreshing, even if only now and again is when we get to hear some slight deviance into a new angle, or a new direction. A combination of styles that does not sully the conventional grimoire of black metal yet does offer some enticement or enrichment of the style beyond tremolo riffs and ghastly vocals.

Enter Warmoon Lord. Now do not get me wrong, you can instantly draw any number of influences on Warmoon Lord’s sound with just a few listens to Sacrosanct Demonopathy. Whether it is the symphonia of Emperor, the scathing attack of Behexen or the melodic trappings of Sargeist, it is all pretty much worn on the sleeves of Janne and Juuso. But what is also obvious, even from the opening instrumental ‘Warpoems & Tragedies’, is that there are nods to the wider heavy metal world. That opening track for example reminds me a lot of Iron Maiden. Seemingly adept in equal amounts with both riffs and keys, the album chimes and chops at the listener. Those galloping riffs again recall the NWOBHM/trad metal plod of years gone by whilst the keys add the own lavishing of majesty and grandeur, breeding a sense of arrogance across the very confident pacing of the tracks.

The ghastly rasps of Juuso firmly keeps the mindset in the black metal camp though. The vocals have a delirious tone to them, bordering on howls at times which work well in contrast with the slower, more atmospheric moments also. Tracks such as ‘A Hungering Yoke’ explore the full gamut of Warmoon Lord’s armory, deploying atmospheric keys, frantic riffing, rhythmic riffing and icy cold vocals across its mere five-minute run time. Taken as a whole experience, Sacrosanct Demonopathy is quite a positive sounding black metal record. Not blue skies and rolling green fields by any means. No, I look at the artwork for the previous release from the duo (Battlespells) and I get the sense of the smug pleasure that army of evil knights as they march away from the burning buildings, past a river turned red with blood. In short Sacrosanct Demonopathy feels good in the sense that you have just fucked shit up in an epic way, defeated an enemy or conquered a long-standing civilisation. As a record, it carries a crude sense of achievement.

I normally do not like too much symphonic elements to my metal, but the balance struck here between the instrumentation (except for the drums which do get a bit lost at times) makes for a rewarding experience. Tracks such ‘Uncreation’s Dragon’ are simply too well put together to argue with, the keyboards only grow the epic nature of the music from my standpoint. This is going to be high on my year end list I sense. The drums are the only let down for me in what is an otherwise great listening experience.

The derision that meets most Behemoth releases always amuses me. I grant you that The Satanist was the pinnacle of the bands output and that all albums since have been a pale reflection of what the band are truly capable of achieving. The “celebrity” status of Nergal seems to be a bone of contention in the main though. How much of this is him genuinely seeking the attention or just the knee-jerk reactions of a pious set of groups picking easy targets are not subjects I am well enough read up on to be able to comment on (I also don’t care that much in all honesty). The thing that annoys me the most about Behemoth is their one-dimensional, steadfast refusal to write songs about anything other than their hatred of God, or rather their inability to do so with any degree of maturity. Calling their latest record “The Shit Ov God” pissed me off before I heard even one note of it. I am sure that I can safely speak for much of the metal loving community when I say that we fucking get it now. You don’t go to church on Sundays and the chances of you making positive use of any bibles in your hotel rooms when on tour is absolutely zero.

The title track is every bit as grating as I thought it would be. It is like listening to Deicide repeatedly in the 90’s but you can understand all the lyrics, (Deicide were great in the 90’s but death metal’s incoherent vocals made them even more tolerable to me). Where Behemoth fails to register with me is in their insistence that this is their one true path, and that we all want to hear it. They can still write monstrous, blackened death metal as it happens and there are some moments on here that do remind me of why I became so enamored with The Satanist. However, it is all so juvenile in terms of the vocals and lyrical content that I cannot enjoy most of the album.

I guess fans of the band will be thrilled that they have released an album that is not a live album, let alone be excited by the blatant blasphemous provocation that again takes hold of the record from the start. But here’s a thought Behemoth, focus less on the blasphemous rhetoric and overly theatrical performances and concentrate more on delivering the music for a change. There are still good ideas here, but they are too hard to find if one of my ears is already threatening industrial action and the other is in a corridor conversation with the union rep. Sporadic moments of quality are not enough to save a thirty-seven-minute record that is just spewing little more than immaturity in gallons.

Within the plethora of albums I missed in 2024, across all sub-genres, sits Le Bannissement, the third album by Canadian black metal outfit, Cantique Lépreux. I found them via Eisenwald’s Spotify playlist, and from what little I have heard from that label, these guys seem a traditional fit for the kind of black metal one would expect to hear. Here we have shrill tremolos and urgent rhythms and racing percussion. The tremolos set aside a more ethereal hue to the sound which tempers well with those more forward driving sections of the instrumentation. When combined, the component parts create a sense of power that sits behind the desolation inherent in the overall sound. At times it does sound like there is some random passage being played in the background, which can be distracting to a degree. However, Le Bannissement is no passive listening experience for me and that additional focus on all the elements; taking the time to understand the relevance of the placement of these parts is key to unlocking all the joys that the album beholds.

Featuring a couple of members from fellow Canadian black metal stalwarts, Forteresse, (guitarist Matrak and live-only drummer Cadavre), it is easy to spot the similarities in sound as well as the accomplishment in the playing. There are many other band members who have other bands in the Canadian bm scene, but my limited knowledge of that scene soon shows when I look at the band names mentioned. As a standalone outfit, Cantique Lépreux creates a mature and impactful sound of their own. This delicate balance of the sublime tremolo penetrating the dense atmosphere is done very well. Nothing is ever allowed to overshadow another part of the instrumentation. The vocals are kept gruff and yet subtle in the mix. The percussion is present but not overpowering. The use of keyboards is done more as a backdrop than opposed to anything that happens at the front end of the mix. Le Bannissement simply lets the guitars take center stage, leaving the other elements to support their work tremendously.

The times where you must almost home in on two seemingly different passages playing simultaneously are as infrequent as they are disorienting (certainly upon first listen). What at first appears to be slightly confusing, soon remedies to be heard as being key in the overall entertainment value of the tracks concerned. It did take some getting used to, but it only seemed to get easier with repeated listening. I can now add Cantique Lépreux to my list of regularly played Canadian bm bands, sitting alongside Spectral Wound, Nordicwinter and Panzerfaust. They feel a different prospect to the likes of the harsh melodicism of SP or the dense depressive nature of Gris or Nordicwinter even, and so this makes them all the more interesting.

In Resonance with the Carnalized Manifestations has been on my review list for what feels like months now. I mean, yes it was released way back in January and we are now well into May, but it feels like I have been toying with it for longer than the last nearly half a year. As I just start to remember why I usually find keeping up with the slew of new releases each year such a challenge, here I am finally committing my thoughts to review. With Austria not being my usual go to country for black metal, to find such a raw and intense experience that instantly recalls the jarring horror of Leviathan is a real treat. Indeed, first track proper, ‘Bound and Condemmed in the Chamber of Your Insignificance’ is as harsh and unforgiving as the track title suggests. It is clear from the off that if you are looking for some catchy, black ‘n roll style bm, you are in the wrong hole.

The crude melodicism of the dashing tremolos, which are generated by the guitarist just dashing their hand up and down the fretboard it seems, does bring an unexpected sense of underlying depth when you take time to listen critically. In fact, the more I listen to this EP the more it has grown. The EP format does not make this a smash ‘n grab bm release either, Homvnkvlvs does everything on Mysterivm Xarxes releases and his marauding style of black metal more than hints at thought and structure beneath the ghastlier aesthetic that he presents in his music. The melody is primitive to an almost pagan extent at times, but the fact is that the tracks are in a continued state of flux. The pacing and tempos change with a degree of regularity, keeping you guessing as to where tracks might be going next. By the time we get to the middle of third track ‘At the Threshold of Purification’ we are almost straying into a progressive build for a few bars before we descend back into raging black metal fury again.

Therefore, despite being only a little over thirty-one-minutes in duration, the EP feels very fulfilling. It is like everything that is wanting to be said is expelled in an enormously entertaining manner. The ambient sections work just as well as the more aggressive parts when they are given the floor. Keying up the final act of the release, instrumental number ‘Dawn of Inner Renewal’ does just enough with its gentle ambience to settle our nerves for one last foray into the rampant black metal of ‘Shards of Lasting Rememberance’. This last track comes charging out of the blocks like a possessed animal. That fearsomely strummed tremolo drives the track forward with unrelenting fury, all making for a satisfying end to fine release overall.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Here we are again. Another Machine Head album, another handful of tracks to unpick, another round of discerning if Robb has settled on any direction this time around. By now notorious for injecting virulent amounts of nu-metal, alt metal and even rap metal into their music, any new record from MH certainly gets greeted with the guard somewhat up. My absolute horror at the shitshow that was Catharsis from seven years ago was probably the peak of my derision with Flynn’s continued dilution of their core groove metal sound. Sitting here in 2025, I felt kind of desensitised to anything that Unatoned could throw at me, and so listening to the usual plethora of styles being blended across a lengthy twelve tracks did have me once again rolling my eyes in frustration that the skip button was out of reach.

Some fifteen years ago, after I had taken a brief break from metal altogether, I picked up Diamond Eyes on iTunes as my reintroduction back into the scene. I was not a fan of the band prior to this but reconciled to go back into the metal world with something different. During my brief dalliance with nu-metal in the early noughties I had become aware of 'Back to School' (from White Pony) which was all over Kerrang TV at the time, and to be honest I had never really been all that bothered by it. I didn’t love it, and I didn’t hate it either, it just passed me by because of over-exposure, I guess. Coming back to metal with Diamond Eyes (now I revisit it in retrospect) seems like an odd choice therefore, but I guess the non-metal elements here, the dreamy, hazy sensibilities helped ease me back in. That having been said, some of the riffing here is right up my alley still.

I recall now, as I write this review (triggered by seeing Daniel’s thoughts earlier this week) that it was the single 'Rocket Skates' that brought me to the album in the first place. That auditory assault of frenetic riffage and those screamed vocals “guns, razors, knives!” still prove to be a real adrenaline trip to this day, which is the sign of a great song, that it can invoke the same reaction from an older, much more underground dwelling metalhead, some fifteen years after they first heard it. However, there was much more to savour on the record once I had got past the frenzy of 'Rocket Skates'. Opening with the title track, the album seems to bring together all the elements that I now know to be contained across the album into one track. Bruising riffs, dreamy and yet also scathing vocals, dense atmospheres, balanced percussion and a constant murky, seedy undertone.

There is a darkness inherent in Diamond Eyes. It is a theme that is not always obvious. For all its pleasantries, its indistinct tranquillity, its promise of peaceful and soothing music, there also lies the sharper, more jarring, less subdued emotions of someone barely containing these more troubling emotions. It is an album written by a band who always sound on the fucking edge. I am reminded of one my cats that I miss dearly. She could be adorable, playful and outright loving one moment and in the next you had claw marks across the back of the same hand that she was just nuzzling mere milliseconds ago. That’s what Diamond Eyes is like. It is forty-one minutes of a false sense of security, and I fucking love it.

Album highlight for me here is the sultry and brooding ‘Beauty School’. The way the bass and the drums work together here to set the boundaries of the atmosphere is great. The lyrics are full of covert sexual connotations as fans of the band will come to expect, yet it plays like a modern ballad to the uninitiated. The bass once again is a key component on ‘Prince’, alongside those chiming keys and that down tuned guitar it makes for one of the more intense tracks on the album. I can only point to one criticism of Diamond Eyes and that is that it is a shade too long in the sense that once we get to the last couple of tracks it just starts to sound like the same ideas being rehashed in some regard. Forty-one minutes is not a long album runtime by any means of course, but when you get involved with it, properly in amongst the songs, that immersion does make elements of repetition standout even more I find. Still so glad that I came back to it this bank holiday weekend though, in so many ways an important album for me as it turns out.

Another mysterious black metal outfit of whom nothing is known about the band members, Blood Abscission have landed their sophomore release (the aptly named II) via my favourite label, Debemur Morti Productions. Fact is, I am not always that interested in the people behind the music, in fact sometimes that information is very much best left unsought. What you can tell from II is that whoever is involved, they know who to write excellent atmospheric black metal. More than this though, there is a clever blend of old school metal melodic leads mixed in alongside some near gazey-like passages. As such, Blood Abscission seem to make a very contemporary take on black metal, yet at the same time manage to keep lots of nods to past glories as well.

I am very much reminded of 777-era Blut Aus Nord when listening to II. That blend of the coherent and luscious instrumentation, coupled with unintelligible vocals (and spoken word at times) is delivered perfectly here, putting all the attention on the music. The more modern take I get from the record though is Mare Cognitum inspired melodic urgency and scurrying tempos. The tremolos get quite shrill in places, suggesting some stringed folk instrumentation alongside the electric elements here and there too. If ever there was a band befitting of residing on DMP’s roster, Blood Abscission are it. The focus is absolutely bang on here, capturing all the right elements I want to hear in my atmo-black. At times when I listen through to the record, I am reminded of Grima’s triumphant record from this year also.

I read criticism that II was too lengthy for one reviewer and I normally am one of the first to call out if a record outstays its welcome. However, Blood Abscission, as well as having great content, have track lengths nailed down also for me. I do not feel the album works as a casual listening experience though by any means. If you are just looking for background music, then this album fundamentally does not apply. The final three tracks all grow into each other, passing on the baton to each other as they flow superbly together (for this reason, the album is superb bedtime listening on headphones I have found – to truly appreciate this great piece of compositional aptitude). Even the twelve-minute plus opening track does not ever become a chore and sets the tone perfectly for the rest of the album. Who fucking cares who the band are? With music this studiously put together, you have more than enough to concentrate on already.

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

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

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

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

The final EP (to date) in this series ‘…:Grunsfoort’ harks back to the jangly tremolo and melodic gallop of Drudkh to kick things off this time.  Opening track ‘Sediment der Impressies’ again picks up where the previous EP left off some 18 months ago, trailing an air of accessibility and directness to its presence.  For the most part, this is a well-balanced track in terms of pace.  It measures the urgency of the tremolo with passages of thoughtful refrain and folky strings that really sound like they are grounding the track.  There is also a strong bass presence here as well which really does add depth to the slower parts.  The track does seem to lose its way about two-thirds of the way through, disappearing into an unexpected dark ambient section before racing back for the final meeting.  This feels disruptive, like they thought about ending the track there but changed their mind.

The strong, yet never intrusive bass, is retained on ‘Grunsfoort in de mist’.  Opting for a slower pace to start this time around the track also deploys acoustic strings to good effect, using them to herald the arrival of additional layers on proceedings.  This is the standout track on the release for me.  It is thoughtfully composed and builds up well.  The rich melodic aspects are never at the expense of the directness and despite the more softer approach, the band avoids ‘gaze’ territory in the main and still delivers a haunting and ethereal experience to draw the track to a close.

Whether this is the totality of the series or not, these three EPs are strong as a collective.  My criticisms are never items that necessarily diminish from my overall enjoyment of the series and they do showcase the talent, ability and influences of the duo involved here.  I would recommend playing them back to back to truly appreciate them but they do also work in isolation.

Landing just three months after the first EP in this series, Fluisteraars picked up on ‘…:Nergena’ pretty much where they left off on ‘…:Harslo’ back in March.  The dashing tremolos on opening track ‘De man, Zon van de Doden’ coupled with the erratic folk sounding instrumentation alongside more calming, clean and choral vocal sections make for an interesting start to proceedings.  Instrumentally, this EP feels a little more complex than its predecessor but it still manages to retain a rhythm that sticks in the brain making the opening track easy enough to follow.

When we get to the second offering here, ‘De Mystiek Rondom de Steen des Hamers’, we see a more direct approach.  This folky, chiming and pagan sounding track retains a catchiness that leaves me very much reminded of Havukruunu.  It is a very earthy sounding track that use melody intelligently to accentuate the softer nature to the bands sound.  It feels very relaxed in pace also and the jangly tremolo is less fuzzy here than on the opening track on the first EP.  It is kind of a chilled experience overall on this second track.

For me, I prefer the first EP over this one.  Whilst I respect the direct nature and earthiness that gets introduced here, I was kind of enjoying the more chaotic and eclectic elements that got called out in my review of the first release in the series.  Still there’s nothing bad here, just not as enjoyable as the first.

This two track EP from Dutch post-black metal outfit Fluisteraars, is the first of a trio of releases in the series (I am not sure how many there will be in the end, however the third instalment just got released in 2025).  Using the Dutch word for “Whisperers” as their band name is actually a good indication of how I find their sound.  Refusing to be drawn on exactly what type of a band they are in interviews, I find them to be a modern take on the the sub-genre of black metal in the sense that they infer a black metal aesthetic but seem to only whisper this.  There’s a definite Oranssi Pazuzu vibe to opening track ‘Dromen van de zon’ for instance.  The chaos of the guitar is underlined by a shrill tremolo that rides atop of crashing and dashing percussion and wild, shouted vocals.

The jangly edge to the tremolo does remind me of Drudkh somewhat, yet it retains a fuzzy, almost psychedelic and warm tone also.  There is also an intensity to the track that brings Wiegedood to mind.  That deranged edge to proceedings in particular draws this comparison.  Track number two on the release ‘ De konig de werd ontedkt tidens de blootlegging van de nieuwe dimensie’ has the vastness of ‘Blaze…’ or ‘Transylvanian…’ era Darkthrone to my ears.  It has a heavy atmospheric element to it also and touches on the horror of perhaps Leviathan or Xasthur too.

Whispered or not, there’s no denying the influence of black metal on the sound of Fluisteraars. The post elements fit well also, arguably being an extension of atmospheric black metal as opposed to outright post-metal.  There are chimes and and keys here that would not be out of place on a dungeon synth record and so I would say the influences here are far reaching, beyond what you may initially hear upon putting this on.

If I had my time again, I would start listening to black metal a lot sooner than I did. The peak of the scene was around the time when I was just turning into a teenager and there was no mention whatsoever of black metal amongst my metalhead mates at the time. We were all about death metal, thrash metal and heavy metal and I cannot recall the likes of Burzum, Mayhem, Emperor or Satyricon ever entering conversation even, across five years of high school. As such, I have always felt like I have missed out on the true essence of black metal, my initial, stronger, affiliation with death metal being largely because I was watching it grow in front of my very eyes. Whilst I have many memorable experiences listening to black metal in my adult years, some of the same emotions that I feel when listening to say De Mysteriis Dom Sathanas, can never be the same as when I listen to Slowly We Rot. I guess then, that when I am looking for the ultimate experience of black metal when I get to a new release or one that I have not heard despite it being available for years, is that sense of true passion and excitement for the art that I feel I missed out on back in the day. Albums like the latest by Svartsyn.

It is all here for the taking for me. Themes of Satanism, death, ritualistic offerings and dark mythology are what help pique my interest on most metal records. When they are as well integrated into a wall of crawling, lumbering, threatening and menacing black metal music such as Vortex of the Destroyer, then this is the icing on the cake. Ornias sounds genuinely deranged on here, his vocals are as pestilent as the vilest of diseases, his riffs are relentless sorties of marauding layers of darkness hammered home by guest drummer Ignace Verstrate’s (the aptly nicknamed Hammerman) unabating pounding on the skins. It is the dead body the kids find out by the lake one day. Bloated with filth, hissing noxious gases from its orifices, its flesh infested with all manner of crawling things. If you need a quick teaser of VotD at its best, throw on the amazing ‘Utter Northern Darkness’ and you will soon be met with the type of barrage of fury you can expect from pretty much all ten tracks on offer here.

Whilst I will accept that sometimes the mix does lose elements of the instruments, it is a black metal record after all, so production values are not always the order of the day, let’s be honest. Not even this though can hinder the majestic grimness of the album. Clearly written from a place of passion for the darkest of arts, VotD has enough black metal heart to keep me freezing cold for the whole of 2025 alone. It is not polished, it does not rely on atmospherics, and it yet has a sense of balance to its chaos. It has borders to its disorder. With hints of black ‘n roll here and there, the pacing of tracks always feels measured, despite the often-raging intensity. This will be a go to record for me for some time to come.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Swedes Scitalis are new to my black metal radar with this, their sophomore album surfacing in January of this year. Since then, it has enjoyed a degree of frequency on my rotation list. It is an album that is based on the witch trials of North Sweden in the late 1600’s, and so it flows heavily on the themes of suffering and persecution. What we get therefore is a bm record that retains a real rawness to proceedings (especially the vocals, which I will come to later) yet the band are also unafraid to wheel out some melodicism at the same time and use it in an atmospheric way. The album feels very powerful at all times, and it leans on more than one medium to assert its strength.

Maledictum, is well written and equally as adeptly performed. The storytelling is logical and meaningful without being overly dramatic. The musical representation of the witch trials plays as a very honest and earthy representation of what went on at the time. The playing sounds tight and direct, maintaining consistency throughout the album duration. Whilst this does cause the album to stray into dangerous levels of repetition there are a couple of elements for me that still make it standout. Number one is the vocals. An internet acquaintance of mine pointed out to me that the vocals put them off this release, which was a real shame because they found everything else here to be ‘top notch’. For me the vocals are a real draw. Reminiscent of Nas Alcameth in Akhlys, they are a raspy, throaty whisper style that is not common, not in my bm catalogue at least.

Then we have the drums. Well-paced and kept simple for the most part, they endure the darkness on the fringes of the limelight here on this album to some degree. It is hard to hear past those vocals and the driving riffs but listen closely and the solid bash of the drums is hard to ignore. The blastbeats have a refrain to them almost that is giving the other instruments the space to stamp their authority on the story. They are almost gentle at times on ‘The Suffering’, even at the height of their blasting intensity. Whoever ‘W’ is, their drumming credentials are clear for all to hear.

Scitalis write good records, based on this release at least, and I cannot understand how they have escaped my radar until now. The melodic tremolos on ‘Seven Years ov Blood’ would give Drudkh a run for their money. The charge of the rhythm section is none too shabby either. As solid as it all is though, it does have something missing. There is almost an absence of some synths to add some real weight to proceedings, like the guitars try but can only go so far. For such a serious subject matter, the need for some cold atmospherics seems obvious to these ears. That having been said, Scitalis are deadly serious about their art, that much is clear from these seven tracks. This is a record written by knowledgeable guys and one that sets a high bar for Swedish bm so far in 2025.

Void of Hope have managed to churn out one of my favourite bm releases so far in 2025. As I walk through the dirge of releases this year there is a pattern emerging of me finding releases or artists that take me by surprise to the extent that I end up with whole discographies to check out. Void of Hope are a bit easy in that regard as they only have one album to date, and a mighty fine slab of depressive black metal it is. Howling vocals, tortured shrieks, menacing atmospherics, drawn out melodies and monotony to boot, all make for a challenging yet thoroughly entertaining experience.

Whilst researching the album it alarmed me how most blog reviews are basically a copy and paste job from the bio on the group’s Bandcamp page. Come on internet critics, up your fucking game and write some words about your actual experience of the record instead of just plagiarising the cool work of someone else. I don’t really care what temperature it was outside when they recorded this, there was clearly more than enough chill in the air in the studio when this trio laid down these six tracks. The title track is a black ‘n roll blast of iciness across the listener’s bows. Those vocals howl into the very void from which the band take their name. Whoever does the vocals here (guessing one of the guys from Ondfødt as two of them are in the line up) has the requisite amount of derangement in their kit bag to give an authentic level of credibility to them. That is, they have experienced the mental anguish that forms the subject matter of most of Void of Hope’s lyrical content.

There’s variety on this record to. Without ever once giving up on the levels of misery in their music to support their lyrical themes, Void of Hope pull in an eleven-minute plus track ('The Hollow Hymn') alongside a just under two-minute piano led palate cleanser immediately after it. The longer track goes through the whole gamut of black metal, from slower sections to blasting fury, atmospherics to blastbeats, melodic passages to driving, near epic sections. As I understand it, one of the guys from Moonlight Sorcery is involved and so I guess this explains the flavour of the epic and some of the expansiveness. There’s variety in the instrumentation too. Synths and keys permeate the space just behind the strings, vocals and percussion, giving a sense of density to the sound of tracks. These are well balanced, and they feel like they are in a true supporting role, breathing in some elements of atmo-black as they create this fog in the background.

Proof of Existence is not just depressive bm for the sake of it. Like a (good) Shining record, there has clearly been some thought put into this record both in terms of the content it wants to share and how it goes about sharing it. The piano and spoken word of ‘Inner Peace’ is possibly one of the most effective pieces of depressive bm I have heard in many years, and this is what makes PoE standout, I think. The band can be genuinely creative with their mental pain and create something that whilst is innately a negative experience, still comes out positive in the sense of the way it speaks to the listener and all the great things I have referenced in this review already. More please.

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

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

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

As I waded waist deep into new black metal releases this year, a new album from Cryptosis raised an eyebrow when I spotted it in my search list. I double checked to ensure I had not tagged technical/progressive thrash metal into the criteria by mistake, but as it turns out the black metal aspects of Celestial Death are not even all that subtle. Vocalist Laurens Houvast has gone a few degrees colder with his grim voice on this album. This when put in the mix with some cloying atmospherics, Burzum style chimes (check out ‘Absent Presence’ for a dose of Filosofem), jangling tremolos and melodies all makes for a harsh and abrasive experience.

The mellotron is back again and this and the synthesisers do an excellent job of scoring the air around them with a futuristic, dystopian sorrow. That’s not to say that Celestial Death is an entirely slow and atmospheric outing, far from it in fact. The Dutch trio manage to add lots of bite to proceedings and fans of their debut album will welcome this; I am sure. That rabid pacing is still present and tracks like ‘The Silent Call’ manage to balance that scathing attack with the depth of the synths well. In short, Cryptosis’ sophomore is a cracker.

It did take a couple of listens for me to settle down with the action here. My first listen was whilst working and I had thrown this on to get some thrash going in the background and quickly found myself focusing more on the cold and melodic aspect of the record instead. Once I got a couple of more critical listens under my belt, things started to right-size for me a lot quicker. Celestial Death is a very mature sounding record, one that builds on the promise of the debut from some four years ago superbly. The guitar notes on the opening of ‘Reign of Infinite’ positively dance with excitement and the balance between the riffs and the synths and then the percussion is excellent.

I could do with a little more weight in the drums on the mix, but I still feel Marco Prij does a great job, pacing his patterns as the soundscape that continues to unfold requires him to. Houvast’s guitar work is great throughout. It is vibrant one minute, then cold and jarring the next. I have no major criticisms here in all honesty. I am still a little confused by the black thrash combo that relies more on atmospherics above all other things to emphasise that cold influence and it does still feel a little strange adding this into my The North list for 2025. However, it is absolutely a valid entry and is one of the best releases of the year so far regardless of which sub-genre sits as its driving force.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Drudkh tailed off for me not long after Microcosmos. A Handful of Stars was a poor follow up to 2009’s triumph of a release and I progressively lost interest in the band. In writing this review, I looked back at some of my ratings for what has come after 2010 and found that on the few I had rated, I had little if any memory of what they sounded like (ratings on relevant releases have therefore been deleted from MA). Whereas I would have once looked forward to a Drudkh album, I found news of Shadow Play arriving landing with a less than muted applause. For me it almost feels like Drudkh have said everything I wanted to hear on their first few records. Those first four albums were the band’s golden run in my book and although they most certainly do have albums outside of that window of releases that I enjoy, I sensed that Shadow Play was not going to see me reaching for the higher end of the scoring range.

My fears were confounded by the frankly boring album opener ‘Scattering the Ashes’, a seven-minute plus track that is frankly one of the dullest pieces of music the Ukranians have ever written. I get the sound of the footfalls in the snow are of someone carrying an urn, however the track itself goes nowhere in between the footfalls that bookend the instrumental. Not a positive start then. Hold on though, both ‘April’ and ‘The Exile’ immediately get me interested in the album again with their driving rhythms and charging pace. The riffs seem to wrap effortlessly around one another, seemingly at home regardless of the tempo being deployed at the time. The rich melody that Drudkh are famous for is certainly still at the forefront of their music. The sound of the guitar alongside Roman’s grim vocals are familiar and welcome sounds. There’s a jangle to a Drudkh tremolo that sometimes sounds like a 60’s psychedelic rock jam. As we get onto the halfway point of the album, things are looking up.

I would go as far as to say that the previous two tracks are a couple of the best songs Drudkh have pulled together in a long time. Solid and memorable, urgent and pressing, as well as sounding like they are performed with passion and guile. ‘Fallen Blossom’ introduces a more aggressive sound, not dissimilar to the overall sound of album The Swan Road. Whilst the melody is still obvious, there is a harsher, colder edge to it on here. Even when the track seems to settle down into a rhythm, it still feels oppositional. The keys do little to soothe this abrasive edge, seeming to support its threat and intent with menacing atmospheres. The track builds into a tumultuous mass of tremolos and percussion, never taking its foot off the gas for the final third of the song. A more melodic opening greets us on ‘The Eve’, even if we are still seeing no signs of the pace letting up in the first instance. At this point I did start to wonder if some variety was missing here, but just as the demons started to have me doubting Drudkh, there’s a swell of accessible, more leniently paced melodies that is cleverly given space to breath and develop before becoming consumed again in the more raging torrents of the track. There is great use of pacing here, even though I missed this on my first few listens, it seems so obvious as I listen through on my review write-up.

Album closer, ‘The Thirst’ sounds like there may be some folk instruments at play in the raging mix that starts the track. I cannot see anything listed other than guitars and keyboards, so it may just be clever use of the keys, but I hear some light droning warbling in the background that seems to be a different pitch to the tremolo that I would normally attribute such sound too. In the end though, Shadow Play is not an album that needs much in the way of expansion. It says what it needs to say very well without much in the way of thrills being needed. It is one of the most consistent Drudkh albums that I have heard in a while and it really is only let down by that lifeless opening track which thankfully soon becomes a distant memory as the real quality of the album soon starts to take over.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Orkalet (the main man behind Häxkapell) is a talented fella with a fascinating background in choral singing – working with Erik Westberg one of the greatest choir conductors in the world - who also uses a process of meditation-induced psychography, or automatic writing to write his lyrics. Basically, the guy writes his lyrics and doesn’t even recognise he’s written them. He can switch these states on at will which makes me think that the lyrical content of Om jordens blod och urgravens grepp could well be written by spirits from another realm. As well as the above, Häxkapell also utilises the services of Oraklet’s wife, Ida for violin, viola and her voice.

As you would expect then, this record is a transcendental affair. With progressive elements sat alongside conventional black metal fare, there is real depth to what Oraklet delivers here. The more pagan/folk elements compliment his baritone vocals perfectly, creating a wholesome and earthy sounding experience. The violin and viola create a classical style of atmosphere to the familiarly grim and gnarly black metal music also. Add in acoustic sections, choral passages and near epic, sweeping elements also and you soon know that you are in for a treat with Häxkapell’s sophomore release. The downside for some maybe that there is a loss of the traditional coldness to the sound that diehard fans of bm would harken for. The sound is hardly warm like say Hellenic bm would fashion in the traditional understanding of such a description, it’s more comforting even though the genuinely desolate and morbid elements are still plainly on show.

The baritone vocals do not always land as well every time they are used and for me there are a couple of occasions where compositionally things are off in general but there are never any moments that make me reach for the skip button. At worst, some tracks seem to suffer from minor issues in terms of a lack of balance. In short, there are occasions where I want a little more black metal in all honesty. These moments are infrequent enough to stop me dropping the rating into the lower part of the range, at the same time however they hold it back from an outstanding score.

My high hopes for Kryptan’s debut full length are certainly met by the horrific edge to album opener ‘The Unheard Plea from Thousands of Broken Hands (Intro)’. The pleading voice in the background of the track sets off the old nerve-endings into a jarring frenzy immediately. The intro track then drops into the first proper track on the record and those guitars certainly make their presence felt early on. However, it does not take long for things to start to unravel. The drums remain audible but unintrusive throughout and as a result come across as lacking in power. By comparison the bass is virtually non-existent in the mix, which instead sees the synths, guitars and vocals get centre stage.

The main issue I have with Violence, Our Power though is the vocals. Whilst not horrendous by any means, I do question their suitability on more than one occasion. There are obvious Behemoth comparators in terms of the vocals, especially when the vocalist here deploys a kind of strained shouting style (‘The Miracle Inside’) which is not a bad thing, but I just do not feel that Alexander Högbom has the pipes for it to be honest. On the more grim, black metal style vocals he is fine, but this attempt at variation sounds a tad amateur to my ears.

This strained description is applicable to the whole record in all honesty. It strikes me that the music is being forced through something to get to the unappealing outcome we are presented with. The mix just sounds off to me, like it is stopping me getting at the true content that the band intended to share. My experience somehow feels muted and like I have constantly missed something. I do not sense that they are any artist capability issues here, just a not too kind mix job. That withstanding I still do not believe that the vocals fit the direction of the band overall. Stick to bm croaks guys, you sound much better.