AMG’s Unsigned Band Rodeö: Exterior Palnet – Haragma II

By Dolphin Whisperer

“AMG’s Unsigned Band Rodeö” is a time-honored tradition to showcase the most underground of the underground—the unsigned and unpromoted. This collective review treatment continues to exist to unite our writers in boot or bolster of the bands who remind us that, for better or worse, the metal underground exists as an important part of the global metal scene. The Rodeö rides on.”

Another year, another chance for the Rodeö to lasso a lurking but worthy buck. We do dirty business here at Angry Metal Guy and Sons, LLC, sifting promo after promo to catch a whiff of glory. But we do it all for the love of music, a love of exploration, and a love of dealing in the currency of informed and accurate opinions. Just ask the wise and appreciative minds of the powerful minds at Rolling Stone—they agree 12 we’re putting in the time!

But enough about us. You want to hear about Exterior Palnet, right? Don’t worry, they know that the word planet exists. These Croatian oddballs prefer to use a related and wholly untraceable word instead. And in that essence, Haragma II, their sophomore release, follows a musical path of likely patchwork influence and cross-genre reverence. Trv to black metal roots, a frosty trem and low-clack blast persists. Yet in tempo-fluid runs, Exterior Palnet finds a progressive, thrashy, and unpredictable attitude that sets their attack galaxies away from their frosty Norwegian forebears. So buckle up and prepare for extreme forces as you wrestle with the words our Cow Folk have for you today. And, if I’ve timed this right, this is the named debut of ascended n00b Owlswald (formerly 87).3 He’s a hoot. – Dolphin Whisperer

Exterior Palnet // Haragma II [January 24th, 2025]

El Cruevo: Exterior Palnet caused a ruckus in the AMG.com break room. “early Dødheimsgard plus [redacted shit-head black metal]4 wrapped in a [redacted shit-head thrash metal] package!” cried one individual. “[The band] is firing on all cylinders!” another gushed. When I was done cleaning their excrement off the ceilings, I learned that neither was wrong; Haragma II offers an avant-garde take on black metal executed with pummeling leads that sometimes wander into thrashy territory. But neither description clarified the reality that Exterior Palnet evoke the sadly-inactive A Forest of Stars; bolstered with additional pace and power, but weakened by a lack of dynamism and curiosity. Although the music has the sinister, inescapable feel of a spider’s web, it’s simply not very memorable or enjoyable. There are solid riffs, sure. And a warped, beastly attitude. Ordinarily these might fuse into something compelling. But I find myself drifting in and out while listening to Haragma II. For a record playing with such dissonance, heaviness and speed, the fact that it barely holds my attention rings the death knell. Now that my time with it is over, I have no interest whatsoever in returning. 2.0/5.0

Dolphin Whipserer: Yes, it will take more than one listen of Haragma II to settle into its particular brand of dreamy chaos. In a reckless manner, Exterior Palnet scatters crumbs of its mission about with twangy, swaggering groove that belies an incessant rhythmic trickery. Playing its hand first with the blasting and beguiling “Haragma” and “Zaphnath-Paaneah” feels like a sleight in the wake of the grandiose and wailing “Behind the Veil.” But understanding how it’s sudden hi-hat shuffle and endless bending mania can feel both natural and striking is key to unlocking the HII universe. Much like the early blackened scrawl of an early DHG—also informed by the progressive, narrative drama of the classic A Umbra Omega—a tangible mysticism lurks around every barked and battered word that escapes through Tomislav Hrastovec’s mic. Whether it’s the Hebrew prayer recital that closes “Beyond the Veil,” the surrealistic depiction of seasonless erosion of “Exoskeleton,” the elemental chant that guides the conclusion of “Haragma,” a shroud of existential disaster carves HII’s every edge—I’d suggest reading along with its words, which are all fully available on the Bandcamp page.5 The world we live in is bizarre, and Exterior Palnet does their very best to make sense of its senselessness through long dissonant resolves, whiplash pneumatic propulsions, and scraggly Voivodian bass drives. And yet, as “Heracleidae” stumbles to the total journey’s conclusion, a heroic melody casts a light of hope. Anecdotal, densely packed, and passing like the flash of a forgotten moment, Haragma II wears a brand of drama that drills shrill melody against swerving tempos in hopes to find a straight line. For some of us, the search is the answer. 3.5/5.0

Icebreg: Exterior Palnet are a tough nut to crack. Their music is dense and mechanical, rarely giving the listener an aural handhold. At first blush Haragma II presents as an unyielding barrage of dissonance layered on top of polyrhythm, sporting stream-of-consciousness style cavernous vocals. Amidst the scaling, wailing guitars and humming synths rages the beating heart of Exterior Palnet; a drummer6 who’s clearly read the mathcore brief. The undisputed star of this show, stuttering hi-hat rhythms and bursts of tom patterns reminiscent of Thomas Pridgen-era The Mars Volta live alongside monolithic blastbeats and wall-of-sound cymbal crashes. But exemplary performances don’t always translate into approachability, and Haragma II will rebuff all but the most determined musical excavators. Like staring into a Magic Eye puzzle, cycling chord structures and melodies appear in “Haragma” and “Exoskeletons,” but only after patient, focused listens. And while eleven-minute epic “Behind The Veil” revels in its noisy climax and grindy bookend riffs, it weights down the middle of an album that already suffers from potential fatigue issues. A break in the chaos appears in the twilight minutes of “Heracleidae,” and while my ears are thankful for the change in texture, the band’s performance doesn’t seem as tight as the rest of the album, making the section seem more mistake than intention. Exterior Palnet unflinchingly adhere to their style of blackened mathcore,7 and execute it well, but the lack of sonic relief here makes it a tough listen for this reviewer. 2.5/5.0

Alekihnes Gun: The “No Regerts” style named Exterior Palnet have descended from space. One look at the cover is an excellent setup for expectations; with its Voivod by way of Refrigerator Art décor, it’s clear something herky and jerky is on the horizon. Exterior Palnet manage to slide between an assembly of treble heavy riffs and melodies which inevitably walk back into more straightforward pummeling. Album centerpiece “Behind the Veil” is the real test for listener appreciation, clocking in at a whopping eleven minutes and managing to make each minute count with an assembly of moments ranging from mood setting sustained plucking scales to proper tremelos over blast beats. Haragma II doesn’t want for a glut of such moments, though the entirety of the album sounds more like a collection via stream of consciousness more than a series of cohesive songs. This is partially the fault of the mix, where the drums are produced so heavily as to drown out some of the clarity of the riffs on display, and the bass is reduced to an atonal rumble rather than function as support for the chord progressions. There’s a really fun atmosphere on display here and whiffs of excellence to be found across the album, if they can tighten the screws on the song writing a bit and get a mix to serve the overall presentation. 2.5/5

Thyme: Exterior Palnet‘s sophomore album, Haragma II, was slightly off-putting on the first listen, but it’s grown on me like some feral space rash. Riffs pinball in every direction, ranging from chaotically dissonant (“Haragma”) to pensively inquisitive (“Zaphnath-Paaneah”) as if tip-toeing through blackened tulips and sparking like schizophrenic flashbangs, recalling the experimental instrumentality of acts like Krallice, DsO, and early Dødheimsgard. It wasn’t until the twangy swing of “Behind the Veil” kicked in, however, that Exterior Palnet‘s claws really dug in. An eleven-minute odyssey and the album highlight, “Behind the Veil,” displays all the tricks in Exterior Palnet‘s bag. Bruno Čavara’s guitars crash and splash against each other in sprays of dissonant mist as he expertly ushers us across tremolodic waters and rifferous wastelands. With emotionally restless desperation, Tomislav Hrastovec’s tortured shouts and screams pair perfectly with Čavara’s intricate guitars and session bassist Vedran Rao Brlečić’s punchy low-end work. While no drummer was credited, programmed or not,8 the drums sound lush and vibrant, keeping the serpentine instrumentation in check, which is no small feat. My biggest gripe with Haragma II lies in the mix, which I find too loud. I know this is black metal, but there are so many interesting things happening here that I think the mix robs the listener, especially the casual ones, of experiencing the material’s full complexity. Ultimately, Exterior Palnet has released an album worthy of your time, and I hope you check it out. 3.0/5.0

Owlswald: My relationship with black metal is complicated. No longer drawn to the forthright tremolo and low-fi discords of old, I now find the genre’s more avant-garde forms satiating. This leads me to believe Croatia’s Exterior Palnet should be right up my alley, as they deliver a chaotic yet grounded sound that both captivates and overwhelms me in equal measure. Haragma II’s strength lies in its ability to generate a palpable sense of unease and restlessness through swarms of dissonant guitars, anguished cries and shifting tempos. Whether conjuring Deathspell Omega anxiety and agitation through its swirling and undulating soundscape (“Heracleidae”) or transmuting its frenetic energy via taut blasts and fills (“Exoskeletons,” “Zaphnath-Paaneah”), Haragama II is all about keeping the listener off-kilter. Despite its often exhausting intensity, Exterior Palnet offers brief but welcome respites, including the Doldrum-esque groovy syncopations within “Haragma” or the unexpected shoegaze-tinged textures ending “Behind the Veil.” Still, Haragma II’s songwriting would benefit from greater balance, as it currently prioritizes pandemonium through a loud, upfront mix. Exterior Palnet reach their peak when atmosphere, groove and prevailing intensity are in equilibrium. Haragma II proves there is still room for growth. Good.

#2025 #AForestOfStars #AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo #AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo2025 #BlackMetal #CroatianMetal #Dödheimsgard #Doldrum #ExteriorPalnet #HaragmaII #IndependentRelease #Jan25 #Krallice #ProgressiveBlackMetal #Review #Reviews #SelfRelease #TheMarsVolta #Voivod

AMG’s Unsigned Band Rodeö: Nephylim – Circuition

By Dolphin Whisperer

“AMG’s Unsigned Band Rodeö” is a time-honored tradition to showcase the most underground of the underground—the unsigned and unpromoted. This collective review treatment continues to exist to unite our writers in boot or bolster of the bands who remind us that, for better or worse, the metal underground exists as an important part of the global metal scene. The Rodeö rides on.”

Oranjeboom, a low-frills lager, holds little love in its home country of the Netherlands, so much so that its production there was discontinued until only recently.1 Why does that matter? It really doesn’t, but it is a fun fact about the Netherlands and a beer synonymous with their lineage. Nephylim hails from the Netherlands too, and, with any luck, their brand of big scope, big sad melodeath will stake a claim that lands with bolder flavor. Over the past ten years, this five-some has cut an EP and a full-length through their own determination. And now, with this sophomore follow-up Circuition, Nephylim may just be hitting their stride. Or, at least, our Rodeö crew seems to think so. Crack open a cold one and sip on riffy sadness. – Dolphin Whisperer

Nephylim // Circuition [March 7th, 2025]

Steel Druhm: Sometimes when you press play on a Rodeö candidate, you wonder why they aren’t signed because they sound so polished and professional. Such is the case with Dutch melodeathsters, Nephylim, and their sophomore opus, Circulation. Taking cues from Ominium Gatherum, Be’Lakor, Enshine, and the more progressive works of Edge of Sanity, Nephylim voyage across various styles of melodeath but always keep things anchored firmly in the Wheelhouse of Steel. After a beautifully regal instrumental opener, Circulation heats up on “Travail Pt. 2 – Animus,” which is like a glowing distillation of Wolfheart and Be’lakor with a seriously epic vibe coursing through it. The guitars riff, trill, and shimmer with a Tuomos Saukkonen-esque flair as grand orchestrations amplify the sound to herculean proportions. It’s the beast of death metal with the beauty of melancholic music, and this style has a proven appeal. I love the majesty of “Grand Denial” and the hints of Dark Tranquillity woven throughout, and the title track bears traces of Dan Swanö’s Moontower and Tomi Joutsen-era Amorphis as it seamlessly melds heavy and sadboi moments. Unfortunately, not every cut hits with the same soul-searing slash of wintery pathos. “Amaranth” is a bit too generic and pedestrian, and though “Withered” does some things very well, the writing is a touch less compelling. Elsewhere, closer “Inner Paradigm” feels like something from the later eras of In Flames, not bad, but less impactful. At thirty-eight minutes, there are bits of bloat scattered around, but nothing that’s fatal if swallowed. There’s a lot to like about Circulation, and I’m left still wondering why Nephylim aren’t signed. With this much potential, they should be! 3.0/5.0

GardensTale: From two live shows, I already knew Nephylim were good. I could not have anticipated what a masterclass Circuition would turn out to be, though. Combining the maudlin symphonic details of Fires in the Distance with the melancholy hope and impeccable composition of Countless Skies is no easy feat, but the songwriting has taken a giant leap forward. Circuition is absolutely packed with beautiful melodies, addictive hooks and enticing cascades. The flow is downright brilliant, such that even after a dozen spins, I find myself glued to the speaker in anticipation of the next stanza, the next riff, the next solo. These are linked together with transitions that are set up and knocked down perfectly, helping every track rush past in spiraling eddies like white water rapids after heavy rain. “Circuition” yanks the heart-strings the hardest; follow-up “Withered” has a more basic structure, but the amazing harmonies and powerful solo make it a standout anyway. Cherry on the cake is the top-shelf production, with meticulous mastering and a balanced mix. The sparse clean vocals aren’t great, just okay, and a few tracks end a little more abruptly than I’d like, but these are small bumps on an engaging journey that begs to be spun again and again. 4.0/5.0

Kenstrosity: Dutch sadboi melodeath quintet Nephylim graced my Bandcamp feed a few months back. I was intrigued, but did not bite. At least, not until our Kermity GardensTale recced it for Rodeö duty, at which point I dove straight in. Embodying a wondrous merging between Countless Skies, Fires in the Distance, and a light touch of The Drowning, sophomore effort Circuition garnered instant adoration from this sponge. A rarer feat, Nephylim’s latest only deepened its hold on my heart, as the opening “Travail” suite enamored with epic soars of melody, crushing riffs that ground the piece in deathly gravity, and emotive roars that shake the roots underfoot. “Amaranth” doubles down on that palpable momentum, bringing forward a fun factor that belies Circuition’s introspective character. Beautiful synths and keys dot the landscape just above that metallic verve and swinging rhythm, evoking something inherently mystical while still operating within the bounds of the human spirit (“Circuition”). As the potent pull of songs like “Grand Denial,” “Withered,” and immense closer “Inner Paradigm” continually challenge my perception of what constitutes a highlight, I find myself universally immersed, committed, and compelled by Circuition. Experiencing this, as much as I pine for new material from those great acts that Nephylim remind me of, I know in my soul that Circuition is one of 2025’s foremost contenders. Great!

Maddog: When Fenrir finally closes the curtain on 2025, Nephylim’s Circuition will be one of my few fond memories of this disastrous year. This hidden melodeath gem triumphs by embracing simplicity without stagnation. No one would argue that Nephylim’s guitarists stretch the limits of human dexterity. And yet, as Circuition buried my ears in riffs upon riffs, it dragged me into its orbit. Blending the classic stylings of Dark Tranquillity with the modern touch of Æther Realm, Nephylim won me over through its irresistible energy. While I initially fell in love with merely a couple of its songs, Circuition’s consistency unveiled itself over time. Indeed, while the closer “Inner Paradigm” was initially my least favorite song, its Shadows of the Dying Sun riffs and its somber ending have made it a highlight. Despite its consistency, Circuition’s mood changes keep it fresh. The fantastic midsection of the album progresses from gargantuan riffs (“Grand Denial”) to tear-jerking Enshine melodies (“Circuition”) to explosive choruses (“Withered”). Circuition is textbook, but it’s both a thrilling spectacle and an emotive powerhouse. Every piece is essential, and every piece is distinctive. 4.0/5.0

Killjoy: The term “Nephilim” in the Hebrew Bible is often translated as “giants” in English. Accordingly, melodic death metal band Nephylim does everything big. Riffs? Big. Rumbling death roars? Big. Thunderous rhythm section? Big. Circuition feels like a highlight reel of the serious and somber side of melodeath, with each individual song bringing something unique to the table. “Travail Pt. II – Animus” embellishes the somber intensity of Insomnium with delicate piano keys reminiscent of Fires in the Distance and heaps of symphonic bombast. The suspenseful drum beats which introduce “Amaranth” organically build excitement by layering on bass and then guitar lines before releasing the pent-up energy with a furious snarl and fiery riffs. But there’s also a tender side to Nephylim; “Circuition” adopts a melancholic and folk-tinted mood laced with deep, beautiful croons, all of which I associate with Vorna. Circuition is considerably more ambitious than Nephylim’s debut, but they never let their ambitions spiral out of control. If anything, I’d like to see them continue to develop their symphonic side that they teased in the first two tracks. Although I find the last third of the record ever so slightly less engaging, I can endorse all thirty-eight minutes of Circuition as worthy of your time. 3.5/5.0

#2025 #AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo #AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo2025 #ÆtherRealm #BeLakor #Circuition #CountlessSkies #DarkTranquillity #DutchMetal #EdgeOfSanity #Enshine #FiresInTheDistance #InFlames #IndependentRelease #Insomnium #Mar25 #MelodicDeathMetal #Moontower #Nephylim #OmniumGatherum #ProgressiveDeathMetal #SelfRelease #TheDrowning #Wolfheart

AMG’s Unsigned Band Rodeö: Zakula – White Forest Reign Lullabies

By Dolphin Whisperer

“AMG’s Unsigned Band Rodeö” is a time-honored tradition to showcase the most underground of the underground—the unsigned and unpromoted. This collective review treatment continues to exist to unite our writers in boot or bolster of the bands who remind us that, for better or worse, the metal underground exists as an important part of the global metal scene. The Rodeö rides on.”

It takes a bit of effort to assemble the fickle tastes of the Rodeö gang, as distinguished and willing as they may be. Now, I won’t say that the lure of a unsigned gem requires trickery, but with a band like Zakula, explaining their style straight doesn’t stand as an option. These Athenian speed demons slap the simplest of tags across their Bandcamp page: death metal, black metal, thrash metal. And frustratingly, that’s the truth too! But what does it mean? Chunky riffs that dance about flailing tempos with a dramatic vocal character? Kind of. How about sneaky lead melodies that tumble against bright synth crashes into whiplash thrash and manic shrieks? White Forest Reign Lullabies doesn’t make explanation easy, but Zakula does play metal with lots of twists. This is the kind of challenge for which the Rodeö crew—now with the recently demoted n00b Tyme in the mix—lives! And, also proof that they too are capable of enjoyment. – Dolphin Whisperer

Zakula // White Forest Reign Lullabies [October 25th, 2024]

GardensTale: Zakula was initially sold to me as weirdo black metal. Foul! This is clearly weirdo tech thrash, a niche I seldom dabble in. As such, I find myself more unmoored than usual, with my frame of reference limited to Stam1na and my meager exposure to Vektor, whose frontman I disliked for his vocals and dislike more for his abuse. But while a few comparisons can be drawn from Zakula to either, this is a different beast altogether. White Forest Reign Lullabies is fast as hell, frequently discordant, and seems designed to keep you off-balance. The guitars throw me off the least, somehow, though their rapid tremolos and triplets and trips up and down the scales require close attention. More unsettling are the hoarse histrionics that make up the vocals, which sound ragged and desperate and are played backward on at least one occasion, and the erratic drums that go from maddeningly consistent to plain mad. But it’s the electronics that send me over the edge. The dissonant slides and squeaks and blips have a panic-inducing effect that reminds me of VAK at about nine times the speed. Somehow, though, the Greeks pull it all together with some excellent songwriting, mixing manic melodic riffs and staccato drums in opposition without letting it all descend into nonsensical noise. Some of the tracks do swerve a bit much from one extreme to another and lose the cohesion, but more often than not this one’s one heck of a ride, full of surprises, technical wizardry, and all the drugs that are not good for you. 3.5/5.0

Felagund: I enjoy the Rodeö feature much more when I have something positive to say about the album we’re reviewing. And truly, how could I hate on the off-kilter package that Zakula has delivered? White Forest Rain Lullabies is the band’s sophomore outing, and they’ve embraced the well-trod kitchen sink approach. Sure, Zakula might arrive on a wave of thrash, but stick around and you’ll be accosted by an undertow of industrial, prog, black metal, and noise. As you struggle against the deluge, you may hear dashes of Coroner, Voivod, and even Oingo Boingo. There’s plenty of synths, light orchestration, squealing guitars, and highly augmented, blackened vocals that’ll pull you even further out past the breakers. Yet somehow, these zany Greeks pull it off. Whether you’re looking for crunchy thrash riffs (“Olethros,” “Children of Haze,”) frenzied, cacophonous noise (“Melancholy,” “White Forest Rain Lullabies”) or spacy synths (“Remains,” “Children of Haze”) Zakula delivers the goods both cohesively and effectively, something even well-seasoned musicians struggle to do. Unfortunately, in their zeal to cram more genres, instrumentation, and ideas into each song, Zakula has inadvertently delivered a record in dire need of some editing. On a six-song album, there are three tracks that clock in at or over eight minutes, and each would have been leaner, meaner, and more impactful with just two to three minutes shaved off. This certainly isn’t a deal breaker, but it does stifle the momentum of an otherwise promising album. Still, I’d recommend White Forest Rain Lullabies, especially to all you little freaks out there. 3.0/5.0

Iceberg: While I tend to follow the Germanic school of thought that order and structure rule supreme, I have a soft spot for unpredictable, chaotic music. Dolph has zeroed in on this personal weakness, and continues to poke and prod me with insanity I can’t help but love. Zakula barely manages to control their chaos across an impressive forty minutes of music with White Forest Reign Lullabies, throwing so many genres against the wall that I’d waste word count listing them here. From the deliriously quick, heaving chromatic leads of “Όλεθρος” to the relentless, across-the-bar ostinati of “Remains,” Zakula sinks their hooks into the listener and refuses to let go. Mid-album heavyweight “Melancholy” is a twisting nine minutes that feels much shorter than that, and it’s middle section is straight from a Twilight Zone soundtrack, successfully blended with speed metal bookends. Every time I’ve come back to this record I’ve found a new corner to explore, a new chromatic tremolo, a new electronic underpinning. The title track and “Ton 618” don’t hit quite as hard as their album-mates, and there could be a case for some more editing, but the amount of fat amongst these tracks is pretty minimal. White Forest Reign Lullabies marks a triumph for the Athenians, and I can easily see it increasing in score as it continues to worm its way into my brainstem. An absolute must for fans of extreme music that blows right past anything resembling a boundary. 3.5/5.0

Alekhines Gun: If metal were a snack, White Forest Reign Lullabies would be the chunkiest of trail mix. Zakula assembles a brand of blackened thrash, piano, clean vocals, interludes, and electronica in an absurd, bizarrely effective middle finger to our stance at AMG Inc. that less is more. Do you love synth shreddage? Zakula pack in enough to make His Statue Falls blush and Fail Emotions suggest toning it down a bit. Do you love blackened thrash? White Forest Reign Lullabies pack in the spirit of Urn with pained vocals pulled straight from modern Asphyx, seeking to kick arse with beer and steel-toed boot. The sincerity behind the more metal riffs serves as a surprising counterpart to the instrumental excess on display here, keeping Zakula from being mistaken for a mere gimmick band. Look no further than the opening minute of “Melancholy” to realize this band is in no way here to mess around, even if it seems like they can’t commit to a style for long enough to do anything but. Some people will cry that this album lacks cohesion, identity, and focus, and those are people who don’t like fun. Your tolerance for this album will certainly depend on your joy for madcap zany ADHD (positive) song structures. But for those looking for a walk on the wild side, come enjoy some sweet Lullabies. Or as Zakula would ask, “How can less be more? That’s impossible!” 3.0/5.0

Thyme: Three years after their 2021 eponymous debut, Greek thrashers Zakula return with White Forest Reign Lullabies. From the first swift, surgically precise riff and chaotic keyboard run of opener, “Όλεθρος,” it’s clear Zakula is no straight-line descendant of the (some say tragically Overkill-less) Big Four — no sir. Zakula’s brand of blackened thrash has an everything-and-the-kitchen-sink quality to it that not only belies its genre tags but makes drawing valid comparisons difficult. If Mr. Bungle and Xoth paid Titan to Tachyons for a threesome, you’d at least be in the ballpark, as every second of this six-song, forty-minute tornado is engaging as fook. The songwriting, especially on the lengthier tracks (“Melancholy,” “Children of Haze”), showcases what Zakula does best. And that’s providing a wealth of melt-in-your-mouth goodness chock full of visceral riffs, Xothically spacy synths, and Schuldiner by way of Van Drunen1 vocals that imbue a particular deathly black menace to each of these thrashtastically jazzy (thrazzy? thrazztastic?)2 compositions. Full of twists, turns, and surprises designed to keep the listener guessing but never letting them get lost in the woods, White Forest Reign Lullabies is an album I strongly suggest you check out. At this rate, Zakula won’t stay Rodeö bait for much longer. 3.5/5.0

AMG’s Unsigned Band Rodeö: Siren Oath – Loveless

By Dolphin Whisperer

“AMG’s Unsigned Band Rodeö” is a time-honored tradition to showcase the most underground of the underground—the unsigned and unpromoted. This collective review treatment continues to exist to unite our writers in boot or bolster of the bands who remind us that, for better or worse, the metal underground exists as an important part of the global metal scene. The Rodeö rides on.”

Are people really allowed to call albums Loveless still? One brave man from Poland, Bobek Bobkovski, seems determined to strike in the face of that shoegaze classic with his own downcast escapades of a far more metallic nature. Siren Oath, with a love for amp tones and a distance from happiness, seeks to explore every creative wile that Bobkovski has to offer, all of which fall in post, black, and riff-centered shapes. And unlike some solitary acts, the mastermind of Siren Oath relies on his proficiency in real instruments to construct his works. So with talent enough to fuel his passion, can Loveless make lovers of our discerning Rodeö crew? – Dolphin Whisperer

Siren Oath // Loveless [September 27th, 2024]

Dolphin Whisperer: Conjuring the big sad requires some level of earnestness in performance. And for an act like Siren Oath, a one-man project, that truthful pathos that adorns every crack of Bobek Bobkovski’s post-grunge-y, lightly accented drawl goes a long way across Loveless. Whether conjuring the reverb-heavy clean to bone-crushingly heavy depressive assault of Ghost Brigade (“Nothing to Be Afraid Of,” “Praying for Your Life,” “Gone Forever”) or the waltzing black metal lament of early Shining (“The Inside,” “The Saviour”), his rough but full mid-range croon—or scattered array of harsh vocal techniques—land fitting enough to his missions of sadness. And when the goal shifts toward aggression, like the bridge-to-breakdown tearing of “If I Leave You” or the groove/nu leaning harmonic scuttle of “Forced to Live”—complete with the bounciest drum performance of the album—Bobkovski hits a proper throaty howl that fills the stage as wide as his pleasantly crunchy guitars. In a curious decision, and I’m entirely unsure it’s intentional on Siren Oath’s part, many of the shortest run songs on Loveless, despite having choruses (and rather big ones at that), end not with a chorus reprisal at close but some other musical intensification like a breakdown or heavy modulation. On occasion though, certain tracks wade to heavy into post-genre guitar textures and lose the pace against the urgency that persists elsewhere. And closing track “Christantemum” plays as nothing but an exploration with a saxophone and shoegazing guitar waves. But these quibbles do little to detract from what is overall an enjoyable experience. 3.0/5.0

Thus Spoke: I consider myself a reasonably big fan of “sadboi” metal.12 With this tongue-in-cheek descriptor presented as a selling point of Siren Oath’s sophomore record, Loveless, with an additional promise of black metal, I was sold. But Siren Oath caught me by surprise by sounding absolutely nothing like I anticipated. That’s not (entirely) a bad thing. There is indeed many a tremolo riff and plenty of rasping snarls, tendencies towards the mellow that follow the hazy, almost folk-like scale progressions over shuffling drums that associate most strongly with atmo-black (“The Inside”). Even the ringing atmospheric sections (“Becoming,” “Saviour”) would be at home in most modern blackened albums, “post-” or not. What sticks out, however, are the pretensions to sludge, post-hardcore, and rock. Sometimes, even though confusing, it’s great nonetheless, like the angsty “wooahhs” on opener “If I Leave You,” the gaze-y moodiness of “Nothing to be Afraid of,” or the aggressive grooves laid down on “Forced to Live.” Yet, as the album progresses, it’s difficult not to feel the tonal whiplash. It begins to detract from the strength of the whole, in spite of the individual strengths of each track. There’s a lot to like, but Siren Oath needs to pick a lane, or more seamlessly integrate their many stylistic leanings, the next time around. Mixed.

Remember, the artists you support are people! And they like burgers!

Alekhine’s Gun: As the winter finally descends upon us, Siren Oath arrives to escort us into the cold. Loveless is a post-metal sadboi release, flirting with everything from shades of blackened ’80s ballads to modern rock sensibilities. Loveless doesn’t lack for ambition, with cuts like “Forced to Live” heaving serious scrape-picking riffs under harsh vocals, and “Praying for Your Life” operating under crooning delicacy. Too heavy to be classified as shoegaze, but not black enough to be called black metal in any real sense, Loveless seems to be unsure of what kind of listen it wants to be. Highlight “Nothing to be Afraid Of” shows Siren Oath at their most potent, with sole member Bobek Bobkovski layering his vocals, emulating Life on Venus atmospherics. While all of the music is passable, it seems he struggles to write in his vocal range. The heavier cuts feature harsh vocals which sound pained and strained, and many of the clean sections hear him reaching for notes and sounding at odds with the music. “If I Leave You” is a key example, with a verse that sounds curiously out of tone, only to hit a chorus that sounds well executed and ripped right from classic rock. This tonal inconsistency is Loveless’s biggest stumbling block. A more focused direction in either direction, and writing more in his vocal range will strengthen future releases. 2.5/5.0

Killjoy: N00b feeding times with Dolph were a tender bonding experience. He often tied us up, stuck funnels in our mouths, and poured in the foulest concoctions he could find.3 I thought such moments were behind me after recently escaping n00bhood, only for him to press me into Rodeö service on my very first day as a staffer. So it was that I became acquainted with Siren Oath, the solo project of Bobek Bobkovski from Poland. Compared to my prior meals, the quality has dramatically improved but the consistency has not. Loveless predominantly flip-flops between somber post-black (“The Inside,” “Gone Forever”) and depressive goth rock that reminds me a bit of the recent Tribulation album (“If I Leave You,” “Praying for Your Life”). The most aggressive track, “Forced to Live,” dips its toes into sludgy waters. There’s even some saxophone to close out the album, but after test-driving so many styles it feels less novel and more like another piece of spaghetti to throw at the wall. That said, no matter the direction, Bobkovski proves adept at setting the tone through gentle guitar picking, dynamic riffs, and a surprise guitar solo in “Becoming.” With a more focused approach to songwriting, Siren Oath has the potential to land the emotional punch it’s swinging for.4 2.5/5.0

AMG’s Unsigned Band Rodeö: Wist – Strange Balance

By Dolphin Whisperer

“AMG’s Unsigned Band Rodeö” is a time-honored tradition to showcase the most underground of the underground—the unsigned and unpromoted. This collective review treatment continues to exist to unite our writers in boot or bolster of the bands who remind us that, for better or worse, the metal underground exists as an important part of the global metal scene. The Rodeö rides on.”

Remember way back in the days of radio? You might have been on a road trip before with your family, and, freshly tasked with trying to find a station that works as you stray away from familiar territory, you turn the knob and land right in between two stations playing a song. It doesn’t sync up, but there’s a mystery to whether that noise worked. Try as you remember, though, you can’t find this balance between two stations again. Wist, I believe, feels this struggle, and with their sophomore outing Strange Balance, they explore the duality of their progressive and atmospheric black metal selves to see where it leads. Would you follow three black metal fans into the Epping Forest? What if they said their album only cost four pounds? Our brave riders thought it wise to say yes, and the results may surprise you. – Dolphin Whisperer

Wist // Strange Balance [June 24th, 2024]

Dr. A.N. Grier: London’s Wist is one hell of a weird atmoblack band. This three-piece outfit goes beyond the traditional Alcestian ways of working, introducing some rather interesting synth atmospheres that lend well to their weird progressive attitude. With their 2022 debut, Stone Still Settling, they only scratched the surface of their sound. With this year’s Strange Balance, they go for broke, shoving everything they can into this tiny album. The title track begins the album with a soothing, ethereal introduction that gets obliterated by a traditional frenzied atmoblack attack. Around the midpoint, it sidetracks to a bass and drum-heavy transition that feels overblown by the lofi production but stomps along all the same. After building for the next few minutes, the chaos fades and is replaced by gorgeous, reverberating acoustic guitars. For all of the opener’s diversity and interesting twists, “Betrayal” is the more divisive of the bunch. Opening with silly cackling the song erupts into gnarly guitars, gigantic, popping bass, and drum work that runs faster than a roadrunner. Using this simple riff structure, the band peppers it with reverberating guitars that feel like they are almost dancing over the surface. When the intensity peaks, the track fades away like its predecessor. In its wake doesn’t come acoustic guitars but Tangerine Dream-styled synth work. Unlike other bands of its caliber, this outro doesn’t have me gazing at my fat gut but instead has me looking to the dark sky to see if the stars are moving. And as if to signify that Strange Balance has always been here and we just walked into it, the instrumental closer, “The River Returning,” fades in with melodic, soothing guitars, adds multiple layers to the mix, and fades away as if driving down an abandoned dirt road. I wouldn’t say Strange Balance is balanced but it’s an interesting record with some unique twists I can get behind. Having never heard of Wist before, they are definitely on my radar and I’ll be looking to see what they do next. 3.0/5.0

Dear Hollow: There’s a lot going on with Wist. It’s black metal, sure, layered with a thick smog of modular synths and overlaying psychedelia à la Tangerine Dream. It’s like Pink Floyd decided to make a black metal album, but really liked Opeth’s acoustic breaks. What makes Wist stand out is that they firmly follow the ambient stylings of black metal or blackgaze but do their damnedest to stay trve to the kvlt in debut Strange Balance—the blackened cackles at the beginning of “Betrayal” would make Immortal blush. “Betrayal” is the wildest and best collision of its ’70s synth and ’90s second-wave black metal palettes, with bouncy 6/8 pagan rhythms and a chill noodling guitar line, only to collapse into a full-on blackened attack. While closer “The River Returning” also features a tasteful repetition and fades that together feels like a modernized rendition of the depressive “My Dying Bride” by ColdWorld. However, the opening title track is nearly impenetrable and painful in its densest synths overlaying high energy blastbeats and shrieks, even if its concluding acoustic passage is decent, and “Grendel” feels incredibly directionless in its fusion of slower DSBM and spacy synths, with a wonky off-key synth conclusion being its only redemption. Ultimately, Wist has some cool ideas that periodically work, but Strange Balance lives true to its name in disproportionately dense and threateningly boring sounds, violently yoinking black metal’s cranky history for an album that feels imbalanced but promising. 2.0/5.0

Dolphin Whisperer: The experience that conjures from the mystical and dated synth layers that Wist pushes against the hazy and shrill is one of an otherwordly atmosphere. In this metal world which we so valiantly occupy, it’s rare to find an album that skews both so alien and terrestrial in scope—a way in which Strange Balance breathes its name. Akin to the new age swells of Tangerine Dream, or similar punctuated by textural guitar works with Fripp & Eno, Wist finds an electronic, oscillating moan to accompany it’s cutting black metal works (“Strange Balance,” “Grendel”). Similar to modern explorations in this world by recent Krallice albums, Wist often finds a forward movement through tightly wound, treble-loads fretwork—a fuzz-loaded squeal, a bend that’s ever so slightly off, a percussive palm-mute more reminiscent of a Cynic slide than any trv kvlt act would hammer—and warbling, nasally fretless bass whines. On heavier sections, and particularly on the horror-tinged mania of “Betrayal,” Wist’s progressive black metal attack feels chanting and bouncy against the lush synth layers in the same way you might, while star-gazing, hear Enslaved if Isa were playing on AM radio at the end of the tower’s nighttime reach. Strange Balance brings fog. Strange Balance brings intrigue. And, most importantly, Strange Balance brings an atmosphere to black metal that doesn’t rely on trem-loaded, trope-chomping sounds of the recent past. There’s a world where the first track is actually the last track, giving just that more weight to its lengthy endeavor. But I’m happy to be in a world, at least, where Wist exists to steal my attention again as they continue to grow. 3.0/5.0.

Iceberg: If I’m going to reach for lo-fi black metal, it sure as hell better have some small-batch, artisanal hot sauce drizzled all over it. Dolph knows this about me, so when he hawked Wist’s latest black-metal-but-with-other-stuff record for a Rodeö, I trusted his cetacean judgement. Strange Balance—you’d be hard-pressed to find a better name for this album—does a mostly brilliant job of oscillating between cavernous second-wave wailing and psychedelic sojourns with droning synths and ren-faire-ready acoustic guitars. The synth work reminiscent of Tangerine Dream (“Strange Balance”) and old-school NES soundtracks (“Betrayal”) makes for an odd bedfellow with the black metal it envelops; but it works! The band stays in a boisterous 6/8 meter for most of the record (“Grendel” especially), giving the music a swaying quality that reinforces the air of blackened whimsy. Listening on good headphones or a quality speaker set-up is a must here; the layering of the clean and harsh vox in “Strange Balance” and the discordant outro of “The River Returning” hold many treasures for the tuned ear. The only thing keeping Strange Balance from greatness is a tendency to harp a bit too long in transitional sections (“Strange Balance,” “Betrayal”), and a bizarre closer that—while well-performed—never seems to justify its existence. But don’t let these quibbles get in the way of a refreshing, unique take on ambient black metal. For those of you who like your shrieking weird and experimental, I have to recommend you check this out. 3.5/5.0

#2024 #AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo #AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo2024 #AtmosphericBlackMetal #BlackMetal #EnglishMetal #Enslaved #FrippEno #Krallice #Opeth #PinkFloyd #ProgressiveBlackMetal #ProgressiveMetal #StrangeBalance #TangerineDream #Wist

AMG’s Unsigned Band Rodeö: Questing Beast – Birth

By Dolphin Whisperer

“AMG’s Unsigned Band Rodeö” is a time-honored tradition to showcase the most underground of the underground—the unsigned and unpromoted. This collective review treatment continues to exist to unite our writers in boot or bolster of the bands who remind us that, for better or worse, the metal underground exists as an important part of the global metal scene. The Rodeö rides on.”

In this year of 2024, artists on the rise have an untold treasure of heavy metal history and knowledge from which they may conjure works of the distorted and riffy kind. That’s how young acts like Questing Beast can come across with their self-imposed “power doom” tag without sounding too much like bearers of the odd torch who came before like Memory Garden or Morgana Lefay. Rather, Birth wears shades of power through vocalist Joe Harris, whose trained vibrato runs equal parts dramatic and powerful while still finding room to switch to a sorrowful tone. And the doom comes out to play through traditional lurching riffs, dry stoner drives, and extended harmonic melodies. But with Elder-like (or maybe a little more Lyle Mays to these ears) glistening interludes and shifting tempo structures, is this also prog? My oh my, what a journey Questing Beast has set forth for our hard-to-please Rodeö crew. But I think it’s a beast they can wrangle, at least this time around. – Dolphin Whisperer

Questing Beast // Birth [June 14th, 2024]

Kenstrosity: I am not known for being particularly picky when it comes to metal in general. However, for one reason or another, I tend to be more selective about the tried and trve ways ov heavy metal. Regardless of pedigree or outside hybridizations, when I see the “heavy metal” tag, I exclaim with much prejudice, “we’ll see about that!” Enter New Hampshire’s proggy heavy metal quintet Questing Beast and their debut full-length, appropriately named Birth. Unexpectedly crunchy grooves and frankly beautiful melodies characterize the majority portion of these pieces (“At Crater’s Edge,” “Growth,” “Titan’s Grip”). But, it’s the more consistent presence of palpable grit in the instrumentation, as companion to the smooth and crystalline pipes at the mic, which makes the magic of the record’s best moments (“The Comet’s Tale,” Beneath Red Leaves,” “Corruption,” “Call of the North”). Using this uncommonly well-realized formula as the basis for strong storytelling and musical composition, Questing Beast handily carve out a niche for themselves in the metalverse that makes the most out of their heavy metal heritage without trying to play strict homage to it. While many of their songs could use a bit more immediacy and the vocalist’s falsetto a bit more stable power, Questing Beast make a compelling case for themselves on their first try. Let’s see if they can follow through on album two! 3.0/5.0

Cherd: On paper, Questing Beast looks like a textbook case of multiple personality disorder. They refer to themselves as “power doom,” but their sound is a circus tent pitched over three rings of power metal, classic doom, traditional/epic heavy metal and progressive metal. And that’s not all, folks. “Corruption” includes the above PLUS a healthy dose of djenty deathcore. Remarkably, the band mostly pulls it all off. Their debut full-length Birth is best when it leans into the older styles of metal. “Titan’s Grip” is a fine epic heavy metal tune updated for contemporary ears. Meanwhile, “At Crater’s Edge” sees them sounding like a bouncier Candlemass. This comparison is especially apt because of classically trained vocalist Joe Harris, who hews closer to Johan Längqvist than to Messiah Marcolin. Harris’ powerful pipes and smooth-like-butter timbre, along with the clearly talented instrumentalists in this quintet, keep Questing Beast’s sound from descending into chaos. Things do go a bit soft in the middle of the record from a songwriting standpoint, but all the material before the first instrumental and after the second one is eyebrow-raising, invigorating stuff. 3.0/5.0

Itchymenace: Beast indeed! This album has a lot going on. There are elements of thrash, prog, death, classic metal and even some jazz. Unfortunately, this ambitious hodgepodge never coalesced in a way that I found compelling or enjoyable. Birth’s primary fault is a lack of a common thread or a narrative that ties it all together. I felt pulled in numerous directions, questing for a voice that would guide me through the disparate tracks. Instead, I got a lot of operatic wailing that never seemed to find its place within the music. Where bands like Iron Maiden or Judas Priest use this style effectively to balance the sonic frequencies across the mix, it feels like Questing Beast stole a vocal track from one album and tried to make it fit over another. I don’t know if it’s a shortcoming in the production, the songwriting, the performance or all three. Much of the lyrical content doesn’t help either. The call and response during “At Crater’s Edge” was about as silly as it gets without being Anvil. Musically, I can appreciate what the band is trying to do. The guitars are crunchy with a classic harmonic metal sound that I love. There are some good riffs and competent playing but that is not enough to make me want to put it on again. Hopefully there is life after-Birth. I wish I could give this a better score. 2.0/5.0

Why unicorn a band when they have their own mythical beast icon?

Mystikus Hugebeard: Birth is a righteous debut by a brand-new band that is already swinging for the fences. This album is, upon reflection, even grander than perhaps it might feel in the moment as you listen to it. During a typical spin, my focus is easily held by the crunchy, exciting riffs that dominate the tracklist, from the slower doom that opens “The Comet’s Tail,” through the energetic classic-metal-tinged guitars in “Beneath Red Leaves,” to the unstoppable pounding riffs of “Call of the North.” But the larger scale of Birth really creeps up on you. Complex rhythms (“Corruption”) and unconventional melodies (“Growth”) speak to Questing Beast’s admirable ambition, and they have the talent to pull off these progressive elements. It’s the bodacious, borderline campy vocals, rather, that make Birth feel epic and they cement the album’s lasting appeal for me. They’re full of righteous but tastefully applied vibrato, and the singer has the endearing timbre of an unrefined but uber-talented vocalist giving 110% that’s just hard to find these days. Some elements do betray Questing Beast’s green-ness in a more harmful way, though. Birth is crying out for some killer guitar solos to punctuate the riffs and further heighten the scale, but the few we get are underwhelming and come across as a bit sloppy, with the exception of “Beneath Red Leaves.” Furthermore, I think the drums can sound a little too sharp and could use a less distracting mix. Despite that, the broad strokes of Birth are a big success for me. Birth is the kind of hidden gem that’s exciting to discover, and leaves me with a big, satisfied grin on my face. 3.0/5.0

#2024 #AmericanMetal #AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo #AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo2024 #Birth #Candlemass #DoomMetal #Elder #IndependentRelease #IronMaiden #JudasPriest #Jun24 #LyleMays #MemoryGarden #MorganaLefay #PowerMetal #ProgressiveDoomMetal #ProgressiveMetal #QuestingBeast #SelfRelease #StonerDoomMetal