Stuck in the Filter: May 2025’s Angry Misses

By Kenstrosity

Every day we toil, rain or shine, to find you the semi-finest ore of the month. Lately, though, it’s been mostly rain. Leaks abound, uniforms are soaked to the bone, the chutes are slick and slippery. We must continue, however, to provide for the masses!

Unfortunately, we don’t have any resources to keep anything dry in this godforsaken place. I hope you like your Filter nuggets soggy!

Kenstrosity’s Meanest Meanies

Death Whore // Blood Washes Everything Away [May 16th, 2025 – Self-Release]

Hailing from Nancy, France, crust/death newcomers Death Whore unleashed what is surely one of the meanest records of the year so far. A debut capable of humbling some of the better releases by far more seasoned acts, Blood Washes Everything Away is a nonstop cavalcade of stank-face, bone-shattering riffs. From the onset of vicious onslaught “Inhaling the Dead,” to the stomp and swerve that is the massive “Infernal Terror Machine” and “None Are Forgotten,” to the blistering and evil “12 Worm Wounds,” Death Whore crafted 11 brutally addictive, but smart and lean cuts guaranteed to snap necks. They allow only the sharpest hooks to imbue accessibility to this killer material, but make no sacrifice to the filthy, crust-laden tones and textures determined to pummel and paste (“Noyé dans le sang,” “Motorthroat ’79,” “Savage Aesthetic Revenge”). Throw in a refreshing message criticizing late-stage capitalistic trends, worldwide misappropriation of wealth by the elite class, and the futility of hard work in the modern era for those struggling to meet their basic needs (“You Owe Me a Living”), and you’ve got a record after my heart. I can already tell that I’m going to regret not saving Blood Washes Everything Away from Filter relegation by the time this publishes, but don’t let my transgression in this matter stop you from enjoying of deep Death Whore.

Executionist // Sacrament of the Sick [May 16th, 2025 – Self-Release]

West Virginian death thrashers Executionist were not on my radar. First off, I am, historically, very picky when it comes to thrash. It slaps when it slaps and leaves me cold when it doesn’t. Lately, though, I’ve been digging the style more and more, and Executionist’s particularly meaty take on Kreator WIOLENCE has my attention thoroughly affixed. With debut LP Sacrament of the Sick, Executionist bring on the riffs, but elevate them with blackened tremolos, rabid barks, and an immense bass tone. Opener proper “Edge of Annihilation” pulls no punches, but only hints at the quality held beyond. There’s an almost At the Gates-like sense of melody here, one which works in tandem with deadly riffs and blackened char instead of as a mere surface-level decoration (“Wheels of War,” “Divided We Stand… United We Fall”). While Sacrament of the Sick relies heavily on the long form for its song structures, creating a spot of bloat, there’s usually something memorable and interesting to keep me invested in the story from beginning to end (“Thy Kingdom Come,” “Sacrament of the Sick”). With just a little tightening of the screws, Executionist could easily become the next big name in thrash. Until then, rest easy knowing Sacrament of the Sick is a worthy contender on its own merits.

Thus Spoke’s Shiny Scraps

Ghost Bath // Rose Thorn Necklace [May 9th, 2025 – Nuclear Blast]

DSBM is a genre of necessity tied to a particular mood, and it’s not a happy one. In spite—or perhaps because—of this,1 it’s one I usually enjoy. Ghost Bath’s take on this particular type of misery music has fluctuated between more black metal and more post, and I personally found it never quite stuck. Rose Thorn Necklace, however, has kept me coming back for repeated mope sessions for weeks. It’s still recognisably Ghost Bath thanks to those same echoing howls that lurch into voiceless high-pitched wails (“Well, I Tried Drowning”), and a familiarity about the bitter refrains. But synths now play a prominent role in driving melody2 both dreamy (“Grotesque Display,” “Throat Cancer”) and uncomfortably upbeat (“Vodka Butterfly”), as things swing back in the direction of post-leaning DSBM. Layered strums lace into pessimistic chord swings and scream-resonant atmoblack (title, track, “Dandelion Tea,” “Stamen and Pistil”), sometimes recalling Harakiri for the Sky. It manages to be pretty, in that characteristically depressing way, as minor melodies bleed into blackened tantrums (“Well, I Tried Drowning”) or ride on synths as harrowing screams narrate (“Throat Cancer”). The snippets of coughing (“Dandelion Tea”), sobbing (“Vodka Butterfly”), and sirens (“Throat Cancer”) are par for the course, but still very effective, and the ending duo “Needles” and the horribly—but brilliantly—named “Throat Cancer” is kind of…genuinely lovely in a really gross, demoralising sense. I’m converted.

ClarkKent’s Bestial Beats

Animalize // Verminateur [May 23, 2025 – Dying Victims Productions]

While the album cover might not inspire confidence, make no mistake, Animalize is worthy of your attention. On their sophomore album, Verminateur, these Frenchmen bring youth and energy to the old school speed and traditional metal scene. They mix up mid-tempo tunes with high-octane thrash, and even throw in a lovely piano ballad for good measure (“Priere de Remords”). On tracks like “Chevel Astral” and “Au Jugement de Soi” you can hear influences ranging from Accept to Def Leppard, while the lightning-fast “Verminateur” sounds like a blast from Judas Priest’s Painkiller. Front man Coyote brings plenty of charm, ranging from excitedly shrill to cool-headed, all while executing some well-timed “oohs” and infectious laughter here and there. Fortunately, he doesn’t carry all of the weight. Jessman and RattleGab keep the riffs spicy throughout, ensuring Animalize never phones it in, while Lynx’s drumming adds some much-needed heft. The songwriting is nice and tight, allowing the album to clock in at a tidy 36 minutes. As good as each song is, the icing on the cake is “Envahisseurs,” which will end up as a strong candidate for song of the year. It brings a killer riff and thrilling energy that’s sure to get the Statue of Liberty to drop her torch and make some devil horns.

Owlswald’s Feathered Echoes

Pandemia // Darkened Devotion [May 16th, 2025 – Hammerheart Records]

After a decade between releases, Czech death metal veterans Pandemia burst back onto the scene with their sixth full-length, Darkened Devotion. Still channeling the menacing souls of legends like Vader and Immolation, Darkened Devotion marks a significant yet successful pivot towards a more accessible sound for Pandemia. Delivering bone-crushingly heavy and succinct songs that are both memorable and easily palatable, Pandemia haven’t lost their edge—they’ve simply refined it. From “Nightmare Paradox’s” gut-punching, wicked riffing to “Catalepsy’s” gratifying, atmospheric thrash-inspired arpeggiations, every part of Darkened Devotion feels focused and tastefully executed. New drummer Jake Bayer (Cutterred Flesh) is an absolute beast, shaping Darkened Devotion’s mammoth backbone with thunderous rapid-fire double bass runs (“Blessed, Blessed Oblivion,” “Depths”), intricate tom fills (“The Pallor of Detest,” “The Wretched Dance”) and precision blasts (“Nighttime Paradox,” “A Sea to Breathe In”). Returning guitarist Alex Marek—last heard on 2005’s Riven—unleashes a barrage of infectious shredding that makes headbanging involuntary. Jaroslav “Jarda” Friedrich’s bass and Jikra Krš’s vocals complement Bayer and Marek’s authority with angry drawls and guttural, gravely growls. The album’s overall tone is immense, effortlessly engulfing listeners into its nocturnal anxieties with ease. With Darkened Devotion, Pandemia have forged a refined and brutal auditory feast that genuinely took me by surprise. Embrace the darkness.

Killjoy’s Dreamy Delights

Asthénie // Iridescence [May 5th, 2025 – Self-Release]

Iridescence is literally a colorful piece of music. Named after the naturally occurring phenomenon of an object appearing to change colors, Asthénie assigned a different color to each of these five songs. The guitars are the main focus here—whether with a glimmer (“Mélèze”) or a shimmer (“Indigo”), they brilliantly showcase the prettier side of post metal. Hardcore-tinged screams boldly accentuate the guitars’ vibrant hues, providing heft and urgency. Somewhat ironically, “Gris” (meaning grey) takes up the most time at 11 minutes and is the most developed contrast between the calm and furious. At only 35 minutes in total, Iridescence passes like a beautiful breeze with little fluff or filler. While by no means necessary, some clean vocals could potentially add even more color to a future release. Though this is not the first instance this year of a post-black record patterned after various wavelengths in the visible light spectrum, Iridescence is resplendent in its own right.

Au Clair de Lune // In the Wake of Dusk [May 16th, 2025 – Self-Release]

Moonlight and bodies of water share an intrinsic artistic bond. There’s something deeply enchanting about a celestial, ghostly source of illumination amidst a dark, murky setting. Leonard Sinaguglia’s blackgaze project Au Clair de Lune aurally combines these two aesthetics via dreamy, floaty guitars and synths akin to Autumn Nostalgie and, of course, Alcest’s Écailles de Lune. At times, the melodies are smooth and glassy like the surface of a lake (“Echoing Silhouettes,” “Neon Dusk”). Other times, they’re upbeat and catchy as a rip current (“Anaemoia,” “Distant Glow”). The principal vocal style is a mild rasp, more for flavor than heaviness, though Falyriae adds her airy singing voice on occasion. Although the track order and overall pacing usually find a good balance between the atmospheric parts and the punchy parts, the longer track lengths make In the Wake of Dusk feel a bit fluffy in places. But even so, Au Clair de Lune provides a satisfying and transportative experience to an unearthly realm.

Dolphin Whisperer’s Dusky Deposition

Slumbering Sun // Starmony [May 9th, 2025 – Self Release]

Music is the closest thing we have to magic in this world. When a great song or a great album graces your ears, it’s a clean sweep to any combo the head, heart, and gyrating body. Such was the case with Lone Star Doomsters Slumbering Sun and their debut release The Ever-Living Fire back in 2023. With a fragile heart in one hand and a fat riff in the other, their take on the kind of sadboi doom you’d hear in bands like Warning or early Pallbearer struck me deep. On Starmony, much of the same elements return: growling bass underpinning stadium-sized riffs, Ozzy-like vocals that bustle with a modern emotion and charisma, and a posty playfulness that allows long-form compositions to swell and soar. The only trouble is that it takes a couple songs for Starmony to settle into that same form of riffed-out hypnosis, with the one-two intro of “Together Forever” and “Keep It a Secret” sounding like the middle drive of a live set rather than the start of an introspective journey. But with the violin-assisted weeping catharsis of “Midsommar Night’s Dream” and “Wanderlust,” the waltzing melody of “Danse Macabre,” and the Thin Lizzy-styled dueling leads of “The Tower,” Slumbering Sun again finds a monstrous groove in hopeful and hammering songcraft. And, of course, if you get a chance to catch this act live like I did, just a few days before The Dolphlet emerged, you’ll fall extra prey to the kinds of doomy incantations that Slumbering Sun conjures with their mystic-minded compositions. In fat riffs we trust, and in sorrowful hearts we linger.

Tyme’s Tragic Tones

Enterré Vivant // 悪罪 (Akuzaï) [May 26th, 2025 – Antiq]

Comprised of French multi-instrumentalist Erroiak and vocalist Sakrifiss—whose 25-year residency in Japan heavily influences the music—depressive black metallers Enterré Vivant’s3 third album, Akuzaï, blew me away. My DSBM bar was set long ago by Shining‘s unfuckwithable V: Halmstad, and yet Akuzaï has come along to give it a run for its money. Centered around 10 Buddhist sins, Akuzaï relates the experiences of Japanese civilians and victims during the Second World War. From the emotionally charged cover photo depicting a mother breastfeeding her newborn shortly after the bombing of Nagasaki,4 to the haunting interludes and shimmering, melancholic melodies within, Akuzaï melds traditional, tremolo-picked guitars and icy vocals ala Summoning and Emperor (“Sesshô,” “Shin’i”) with Moonsorrow-esque keys, Japanese-influenced flutes and violins, along with ghostly moaning howls to create its depressive atmospheres. Transitioning from the twisted croaks of interlude “Waraguchi,” album highlight “Jain” begins with mournful pianos and a pensive, tremolo-picked lead before crashing forth in waves of crushingly cascading chords and Sakrifiss’ tortured screams, its eight and a half minutes awash in black metal sadness. By the time the wails of a suffering child floated in around the seven-and-a-half-minute mark, my arms had broken out in goosebumps, and my heart was fucking broken. Offering yet another lens through which to view the torturous horrors of war, Akuzaï is harrowing, relentless, and not to be missed.

#2025 #Accept #Alcest #AmericanMetal #Animalize #Asthénie #AtTheGates #AtmosphericBlackMetal #AuClaireDeLune #AutumnNostalgie #Blackgaze #BloodWashesEverythingAway #Crust #CutterredFlesh #CzechMetal #DarkenedDevotion #DeathMetal #DeathWhore #DefLeppard #DoomMetal #DSBM #DyingVictimsProductions #Emperor #EnterréVivant #Executionist #Falyriae #FrenchMetal #GhostBath #HammerheartRecords #HarakiriForTheSky #Hardcore #HeavyMetal #Immolation #InTheWakeOfDusk #Iridescence #ItalianMetal #JudasPriest #Kreator #May25 #MelodicBlackMetal #MelodicDeathMetal #Moonsorrow #NuclearBlast #Pallbearer #Pandemia #PostBlackMetal #PostMetal #Review #Reviews #RoseThornNecklace #SacramentOfTheSick #SelfRelease #Shining #SlumberingSun #Starmony #StuckInTheFilter #StuckInTheFilter2025 #Summoning #ThinLizzy #ThrashMetal #Vader #Verminateur #Warning #悪罪Akuzaï_

Grayceon – Then the Darkness Review

By Dolphin Whisperer

Novelty in the metalsphere exists in many folds, whether it be the marrying of virtuosity and familiar structures or the exploration of foreign sounds and textures in a rock/metal context.1 Grayceon, for the better part of the past twenty years, has lingered in the latter path from 2007’s self-titled debut to this newest grand work, Then the Darkness, finding value in the riffy and amp-driven space between emotive, layered electric cello work. Trading a traditional, handheld four-stringed pulse for a classical, stand-up, sullen expression, Grayceon’s Jackie Perez Gratz (Giant Squid, ex-Ludicra) has led this San Francisco-based troupe through waxing journeys of post-inflected, prog-minded heavy metal grandeur with a bowed breath of fresh air time and time again. And now, with Then the Darkness, Grayceon looks to double down on their signature sound—a culmination of frustrations in fancy form.

Possessing both the prowess to open Then the Darkness with a blistering cry (“Thousand Year Storm”) and approach its close with a near lullaby (“(Untitled)”), Gratz and Grayceon continue to find a necessary diversity in their growing body of work. And in the capable engineering hands of trusted partner Jack Shirley,2 Gratz’s lilting vocal lure against counterpoint chamber-influenced swings find an increasing warmth against thick, finger-picked guitar runs and long-drawn crescendos. Time has weathered Gratz’s voice into a full crackle and alto croon that reflects the kind of mystical incantation that you might hear in latter-day Sabbath Assembly, as well as providing room for growth in harsh screeching accompaniment reminiscent of the minstrel Jekyll and Hyde performances of early Ludicra. Yet Grayceon remains in their own element first, even weaving moments of self-referential melodies throughout the back half of Then the Darkness to root deeply the recurring nature of the traumas each of their works explore.

As an exercise in textural excellence, though, Then the Darkness would struggle to entertain through its mammoth eighty-minute sermon if not backed by its aching heart narrative. With themes revolving around the complex nature of evolving relationships—between parent and child, between friends, between partners, between society and its most downtrodden—Gratz navigates each sorrowful tune with a warbling pathos that reads full and earnest in its many cracks. And while this downcast reading flows through much of the journey, the long fadeout from “Mahsa” to instrumental segue “Then the Darkness” renders most of the C-side (“Then…” through “Song of the Snake”) far more placid and buried than the lively bounce that “Holding Lines” provides to the closing chapters. It’s hard to escape the “what if” in terms of what could happen in a more streamlined experience—despite the high quality of Grayceon’s strongest offerings, the slightest dip or departure feels like a missed opportunity where their other works to date have chosen a lighter load.

However, Grayceon’s mastery of studio play emboldens simple structures with deft attacks to fuel the craveability of Then the Darkness. With the ebb and flow of a jam session, quicker cuts fill the air with rockin’ riffs, tight rhythms, urgent melodies, and a classic, volume-driven tone (“One Third,” “3 Points of Light,” “Holding Lines”). And while it’s up front harmonic excess in plucked guitar ascensions that collide with sliding bow tension pepper these tracks with short-term pleasure, it’s the subtle double-punched lines and diverging, hard-panned cello-guitar fill flickers that stimulate an urge to devour all nooks of sound available. And as buttery-yet-jagged riffage finds a crooked home between layered cello stabs (“Thousand Year Storm”) and slithering, off-kilter refrains (“Song of the Snake”), each cut in careful construction escalates to crescendos coordinated in explosive and sullen moods. The longest track, “Mahsa,” cranks all of these techniques to keep each recursion along a gentle climb rather than a flat stroll.

If providing an audience with a plate too full to finish was the goal, Then the Darkness has more than fulfilled the task. From humble roots as a scrappy power trio to this newest incarnation as presence-demanding storytellers, Grayceon’s path of human travail has brought about a gargantuan work that demands attention and dedication. In its four-sided tale, Then the Darkness strikes with an undeniable, hook-laden melancholy when its fire burns brightest. In isolation, no track falters. And though a waning intensity keeps it from being a masterpiece, Grayceon offers enough top-shelf material to make a long service worthwhile.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Translation Loss Records | Bandcamp
Websites: grayceon.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/grayceon
Releases Worldwide: July 25th, 2025

#2025 #35 #AmericanMetal #GiantSquid #Grayceon #Jul25 #Ludicra #PostMetal #ProgressiveMetal #Review #Reviews #SabbathAssembly #ThenTheDarkness #TranslationLossRecords

We Lost the Sea – A Single Flower Review

By Dear Hollow

How do you follow up an album born from tragedy? While the Sydney collective We Lost the Sea began as a mammoth post-metal band with standout releases like Crimea and The Quietest Place on Earth, renowned for uncompromising weight and tantalizing patience, the tragic death of vocalist Chris Torpey silenced them, taking its teeth in the process. Grief embodied its 2015 album, not devastating for the notes and tempos that commanded it, but rather what it symbolized. Comprised of instrumental elegies to failed acts of heroism and sacrifice, Departure Songs served as both a beautiful post-rock album with an intriguing theme and a knack for instrumental hooks, as well as an homage to Torpey.

Because of this, 2019 follow-up Triumph & Disaster was doomed for disingenuousness, regardless of its quality. We Lost the Sea set out on its own path in a concept album devoted to apocalypse via climate disaster, employing many of the same tricks with more bite, but to an unfocused and inconsistent degree that landed its singles in EOY territory but its supporting cast as mediocre at best. Six years later, we’re graced with A Single Flower, an ode to revolution and defiance in its trademark groove and crescendo-laden patience. Much of it lands in Post-Rock 101, in line with the likes of Mono, God is an Astronaut, and Eluvium, with steadily building crescendos as the backbone while twinkly guitars guide the journey to crunchy metallic explosions, with some ugliness for contrast. While nowhere near the likes of its early discography, A Single Flower is a welcome improvement, as We Lost the Sea distances itself from its tragic past.

If A Single Flower is Post-Rock 101, then opener “If They Had Hearts” is the syllabus. Nearly nine minutes of steadily building twinkling, with its ugly metallic hit at the end of it all being an easy highlight. But by and large, the cuts that rely on this formula run the risk of being a weaker version of “A Gallant Gentleman” from Departure Songs, (“Bloom (Murmurations at First Light)”), that their solid songwriting and gentle crescendos are derailed by excessive length’s meandering consequences. Otherwise, appearances of anachronistic instrumentals add a jolt of confusion, such as electronic beats (“Everything Here is Black and Blinding”) and industrial harshness (“A Dance With Death”). Then there’s the elephant in the room that closer “Blood Will Have Blood” is twenty-six minutes long, which is too long despite however rebellious and driving its almost punk-like rhythms suggest.

Flowery textures are post-rock’s kryptonite, but tension between harmony eeriness is where it succeeds – and A Single Flower is no exception. While the textured plucking is a motif that courses through nearly every moment, riding the line between haunting and sanguine is a signature that elevates it. This taut dynamic gives the album a much more nuanced dynamic that recalls Godspeed You! Black Emperor, with its climactic and chaotic metal apexes recalling the collisions of agony and beauty that acts like Milanku or Audrey Fall (“A Dance With Death,” the conclusion of “Everything Here is Black and Blinding”). Terse drumming and textures of noise add to that thread of ugliness that adds contrast to the more crystalline movements, a constantly shifting palette (“Blood Will Have Blood”).

We Lost the Sea has released an imperfect album that successfully distances itself from the shadow of its more iconic past. Incorporating more of a metal presence than Departure Songs while streamlining the effort beyond the inconsistent Triumph & Disaster, A Single Flower manages to balance meditation and urgency neatly. It has its moments of post-rock paper-thin crescendo-core, and there are choices within that end up being head scratchers – and I would be remiss to neglect the album’s dummy long hour and twenty runtime – but We Lost the Sea finally feels like who they wanted to be beyond tragedy and its aftermath. Thus, A Single Flower owes its staying power more to what it represents than the instruments its contributors jam on. It suggests a good trajectory – and sometimes that’s all you need.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Bird’s Robe Records
Websites: welostthesea.bandcamp.com | welostthesea.com | facebook.com/welostthesea
Releases Worldwide: July 4th, 2025

#25 #2025 #ASingleFlower #AudreyFall #AustralianMetal #BirdSRobeRecords #Eluvium #GodIsAnAstronaut #GodspeedYouBlackEmperor #Jul25 #Milanku #Mono #PostRock #PostMetal #Review #Reviews #WeLostTheSea

Acidsloth – Acidsloth Review

By Thus Spoke

Can you guess what genre Acidsloth plays? Yes, that’s right, it’s thrash! Ok, no, obviously not, it’s stoner doom—what else with a name that’s a portmanteau of a drug and a notoriously slow-moving animal? Kicking1 around since 2021, Kraków’s Acidsloth already have two LPs to their name, but it’s their third that they bestow the honor of being self-titled. The reason is that this time, they’re a “full band” (to use their own terminology), totaling eight(!) musicians, five of whom perform vocals. In this sense, Acidsloth is kind of their debut. With a charmingly against-type depiction of their token animal, and the promise of “Eyehategod-level aggression mixed with Conan’s heaviness and Electric Wizard’s psychedelic weight,” Acidsloth are out to show they mean business.

Acidsloth’s more-is-more approach to vocalists sees them hand the mic to a new player on (almost) every track.2 This is a cool and unique way to inject a bit of flavor into what is an infamously monotonous subgenre, as we swap between the shriekier (Julia Markiewicz, Radosław Bury), hoarser (Jan Gajewski, Mateusz Zborowski) and the growlier (Patryk Kozera) interpretations of the sludge scream. Beyond this, their compositions follow a common trajectory, often beginning with atmospheric, slightly ominous plucking and spending most of their time brooding in distorted sludgy chugs to a sedated beat. It’s certainly solid (in literal density as well as aesthetic quality), and sometimes it’s even slick thanks to some beautifully-timed transitions and an elusive solo. But as a whole, it fails to have the weight it needs to support its posture.

The thing about having different vocalists on different songs is that it’s quite important to be able to hear them well enough to appreciate their individual skills. Unfortunately, Acidsloth’s vocal track is so low in the mix compared to the instrumentation that the shouts and screams are often lost in the fuzz and bang of guitar and bass drum (particularly on “Float” and “Sin”). Given this, you’d hope the riffs would make up for it, but here too, Acidsloth fumble the ball. Outside of two pretty sweet solos (“Hole,” “Puke”) the guitars only hint at interesting melodies with some hanging plucks (“Hole,” “Free,” “Puke,” “Satan”), and interspersed passages of up-or-down-tempo strumming (“Float,” “Satan”). There are little moments of brilliance where it seems Acidsloth finally finish coming up and deliver—brutal, sledgehammer sludge screams (“Float,” “Free”); that solo (“Hole”); groovily-tapping post metal tension (“Free,” “Satan”); moody liquid plucks (“Sin”). But it’s at these times when Acidsloth’s odd compositional habits truly hamstring what strength they gained. Frequently, songs switch gears midway, and then again, and yet manage to reprise the least-interesting elements of monotony; the cool parts not given time to command the space they deserve (“Hole,” “Free,” “Sin,” “Puke”). The worst case is “Free,” which could have Amenra-esque levels of bite and solemnity, if the mid-tier galloping sludge didn’t smother the harrowing howls, and the anticipatory build that interrupts it set the tone instead.

Doom of any kind, and sludge for that matter, is at heart designed to be uncomplicated, but its presence—whether through emotional depth or sheer magnitude—is what makes it powerful. Alternatively, maybe it can just make you feel good with some psychedelically lush soundscapes. Acidsloth has no presence beyond its literal noisiness, and there’s but a glimmer of color in the melodies. The near-inaudibility of the vocalists is made worse by the frequent use of reverb, and what is either multi-tracking or group shouts (their muddiness makes it hard to tell). The music isn’t “boring,” as such, it’s just draining to listen to, as all the best riffs, screams, and good use of rhythm and atmosphere are quite quickly ironed over with a return to the plod and a sheen of humming feedback. One thus ends up walking away with the unfair impression that there’s simply nothing going on in the entire record. Even in active listens, I struggled to cling to the positive vibes.

As a stoner doom album, maybe Acidsloth is standard fare, but I would like to think not. As a sludge album, it fares better, thanks to an emphasis on chunky—albeit mostly dull—riffing and the fact that at least some of the vocalists seem to have promise. Acidsloth are finding their feet as an ensemble, and if they can pool their assets, I think they could make something pretty juicy. Hopefully, they make the move faster than the animal they’re named for.

Rating: Disappointing
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Willowtip
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: June 20th, 2025

#20 #2025 #Acidsloth #Amenra #Conan #CultOfLuna #DoomMetal #ElectricWizard #Eyehategod #Jun25 #PolishMetal #PostMetal #Review #Reviews #SelfReleases #Sludge #StonerDoom

THRÆDS – Impermanence Review

By Owlswald

Adding to my list of bands with irregular monikers, German progressive post-metal/rock group THRÆDS (pronounced “Threads”) is the latest to fall under the scrutiny of my wide-eyed gaze. Formed in 2019 as a solo project by guitarist Angelos Tzamtzis, THRÆDS has since grown into a multi-national five-piece.1 Their 2021 Akasha EP garnered the attention of Octopus Rising—an imprint of Argonauta Records—which is now releasing their debut full-length, Impermanence. The promotional material for this Berlin-based quintet bills itself as a seamless blend of progressive post-metal alongside atmospheric rock, claiming to fuse the sounds of giants like Gojira, Tool, and Porcupine Tree into a diverse and unique style. Call me cynical, but whenever descriptions throw about such high-caliber names, the reality seldom matches the hype. And, unfortunately, THRÆDS proves to be no exception.

A pervasive sense of familiarity permeates Impermanence’s forty-eight minutes. While “Devolve” delivers a half-time L’Enfant Sauvage stomp with Gojira’s trademark pitch shifts and tracks like “Einstein-Rosen Bridge” and “Clockworks” evoke some of the moody melancholia of Porcupine Tree or Katatonia, THRÆDS ultimately leans too heavily on well-trodden modern rock crutches to convey their moods and textures. As a result, the material on Impermanence is largely standard and unremarkable, offering little in the way of presence or impact. Chuggy palm-muted guitar riffs, delay-heavy arpeggios and gallant distorted chord strumming drive Impermanence during its drawn-out instrumental sections. Celso Borralho’s vocals dither between solemn whines (“Sole Survivor”), gravelly Chester Bennington-esque frys (“Reflections”), and high, soulful croons (“Nothing Good to Say”). While these hint at Borralho’s considerable range, they generally also fall short of his full potential. Despite the self-produced effort registering a mighty DR 10 and Barnabás Mihály’s playful basslines providing some much-needed aptitude, Impermanence exhibits a vanilla disposition with little novelty or energy.

THRÆDS relies on familiar modern rock clichés to drive their songwriting. Rock anthem “Reflections,” with its big, sing-along chorus and radio-ready polish is well-composed but employs repetitive chord progressions and melodic structures a myriad of modern rock groups have used a million times over. Similarly, “Sole Survivor” and “Timeless” lack novelty with formulaic compositions that contrast quiet, delay-saturated post-rock verses with heavier down-tuned choruses filled with garden-variety guitar riffs, foundational rock beats, and cornerstone vocal belting. Borralho frequently toys between his high and low registers, sounding unassured and whiny rather than passionate and introspective as his voice warbles above the melodies. His range and high register are his greatest strengths, yet he seldom leans into them with enough conviction to improve THRÆDS’ simplistic approach. Compounding matters is the sheer length of Impermanence’s songs as “Devolve,” “Timeless,” and “Reflections” all clear six minutes while closer “Story in Reverse” pushes eight, primarily to accommodate Alegros Gramma’s sax solo. Even the shorter “Einstein-Rosen Bridge” contributes to Impermanence’s sense of bloat, stretching thin ideas into wandering Maserati-like post-rock.

Predictably, Impermanence’s stronger moments appear when THRÆDS trim the fat and venture outside of well-trodden tropes. A prime example is the solemn “Nothing Good to Say,” where the quintet crafts a condensed, cohesive, and engaging offering with Borralho’s high, soulful croons floating above playful drum and bass grooves, all enveloped by an eerie, atmospheric feel. Mihály’s bass performance is noteworthy, driving a deep pocket with his rhythmic pulses while capably utilizing space with high-scale runs that explore the full range of his fretboard. Likewise, the chorus in “Story in Reverse” and the verse in “Einstein-Rosen Bridge” point to a more favorable stylistic direction, as THRÆDS momentarily recalls the grunge-saturated sounds of Alice in Chains amid stretches of otherwise tedious material.

From start to finish, Impermanence struggles to find its footing, delivering an unremarkable collection of songs that is more often bland and forgettable than original and engaging. Displaying brief flashes of promise, THRÆDS defaults to the comfort of well-worn rock sounds, resulting in an overly long debut that lacks the confidence one would expect from a group aspiring to stand alongside the giants it name-drops. Ultimately, Impermanence rings hollow, forcing progressive and post-metal fans to look elsewhere for novelty and imagination.

Rating: Disappointing
DR: 10 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Argonauta Records
Websites: thraeds.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/threads.project | instagram.com/thraeds.band/
Releases Worldwide: June 6, 2025

#20 #2025 #AliceInChains #ArgonautaRecords #GermanMetal #Gojira #HardRock #impermanence #Jun25 #Katatonia #Maserati #MelodicMetal #OctopusRisingRecords #PorcupineTree #PostMetal #ProgressiveRock #Review #Reviews #Rock #THRÆDS #Tool

Hiroe – Wield Review

By Killjoy

Despite the importance that many metal and rock subgenres place on instrumentation, music without vocals often proves a tough nut to crack. Without the inherent structure that generally comes from writing vocal lines or the unique individuality of a human voice, it’s difficult to grab—much less keep—a listener’s attention. Still, that doesn’t stop a multitude of artists from reaching for a slice of the wordless glory. The latest of these is Hiroe, a newcomer post-rock group from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, releasing their debut full-length Wield (following an EP, Wrought, in 2022). With promotional material describing a diverse, expansive, and epic writing approach, Hiroe is poised to offer a maximalist take on a traditionally minimalist genre.

Wield is indeed diverse, containing many of the various touchstones under the expansive post-rock umbrella. As is typical of instrumental acts, Hiroe principally relies on a three-pronged guitar alliance (Eric Kusanagi, Brian Kong, and Jill Paslier) to construct and embellish the music. On the one hand are serene, luscious melodies designed to ruffle the heartstrings similarly to pg.lost or Caspian. On the other hand are dense post-metal guitar clusters favored by Pelican and Isis. But somewhere in the middle of these two extremes, they reveal progressive inclinations, which is where bassist Jon Seiler and drummer Dan Sagherian shine the most, their knotty rhythms adding depth and complexity.

Hiroe seems indecisive about targeting the heart or the head and misses both. Not completely, of course, and Wield does start off promisingly. “The Calm” opens with a gorgeous, glassy melody that artfully evokes feelings of eagerness as it accumulates layer after layer. But soon these hopes are quite literally crushed by the thick, slow wall of post-metal guitar chords of “Tides.” The wall eventually cracks open and a ringing guitar lead spills forth, but Wield never properly follows through on the lush beauty teed up in the intro track or evokes much of an emotional response from me. Attempts at intellectual stimulation don’t often connect either. “Collider” is the most promising from a technical standpoint, opening with an intricate, swirling guitar melody that dazzles at first but tends to overpower the other instruments as it reoccurs. It rarely feels like the three guitarists and the bassist fully realize the rich, multilayered compositions for which Hiroe is aiming.

However, what most impedes Wield is an imbalance between repetition and progression. Disappointingly, in this regard, Wield is heavily weighted towards the former. There are some genuinely compelling melodies, but they tend to span too many minutes. The record is composed of only six tracks, all of which (save for the intro) are at least seven minutes long, and none warrant their lengthy runtime. To keep things moving along, the more homogeneous songs should have been shortened (“I’ve Been Waiting for You All My Life,” “Dancing at the End of the World”), whereas “Collider” could have been cleanly split into two separate songs. The back half of the album feels particularly listless, the exception being the fuzzy and chunky guitar distortion of “The Crush,” but, again, each passage lingers too long. It may appear unfair or even antithetical to criticize post-rock for repetition, but for a free-form instrumental variation to transcend background music, each individual passage must foster a natural continuity with the next without overstaying its welcome.

Ultimately, Wield proved to be a frustrating experience. I enjoy much of the music during a given moment, but it rarely feels like the constituent elements come together in a satisfying way. Though I can appreciate Hiroe’s attempt to expand the horizons of post-rock and post-metal, this repetitive long-form songwriting strategy is not working for me. Despite the overall tone of this review, I don’t actually dislike Wield, but I’m simply unmoved. That said, die-hard fans of the genre may well find more to enjoy than I did. Each member of Hiroe is a talented musician, and they’ll likely be a force to be reckoned with after maturing as composers.

Rating: 2.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 192 kbps mp3
Label: Pelagic Records
Websites: hiroe.bandcamp.com | hiroemusic.com | facebook.com/hiroemusic
Releases Worldwide: June 20th, 2025

#20 #2025 #AmericanMetal #Caspian #Hiroe #InstrumentalMetal #Isis #Jun25 #PelagicRecords #Pelican #pgLost #PostRock #PostMetal #ProgressiveMetal #Review #Reviews #Wield

Grey Mountain – Grey Mountain Review

By ClarkKent

While Grey Mountain is technically a debut, it’s the fourth project and 17th album overall fronted by Jon Higgs from the label Eat Lead and Die Music. His other bands — Monsterworks, Thūn, and Moose Cult — have all received the AMG review treatment from various writers, often noting that these many projects sound similar to each other.1 And Higgs bringing along a Monsterworks bandmate, drummer James Garnett, to Grey Mountain, does little to squash the fear of over-familiarity. However, this new act’s third member, Kishor Haulenbeek, is a n00b to the Eat Lead and Die Music roster. While Higgs brings in a well-polished prog/doom style to his sound, Haulenbeek is more raw and dissonant. Are these fresh contributions influential enough to allow Grey Mountain to stand apart from Higgs’ other projects?

Grey Mountain does sound remarkably similar to its kin, more along the lines of the progressive ideas from Monsterworks and less so the doomy ones from Thūn. But Haulenbeek does bring a unique style to the band. The guitars have a more dissonant tone, and the overall sound is much rawer. It reminds me of Opeth’s early work, like Morningrise. But where Opeth is deliberate in their songwriting, Grey Mountain feels much more free in style, as if the band members are playing in a jam session together rather than performing pre-written parts, which gives looseness that avoids easy definition. While opener “Grey Mountain” fits the doom mold, the rest of the songs are faster tempo and more playful. Grey Mountain is post/prog above all, but you will also hear some funky bass grooves and even moments of spacey psychedelia.

Grey Mountain’s unpredictable nature means that it’s not always cohesive, but it’s also never boring. The free form style is both a curse and a blessing. The individual band members play their instruments very well, but they don’t always sound like they’re playing together, as if competing in ideologies. Haulenbeek’s dissonant lines don’t always gel with the prog, and the result is jarring compared to the smoother sound of Higgs’ other works. Yet the freestyling also means songs don’t dwell for very long on any one passage, and the extensive use of elaborate guitar solos keeps things moving along. The result is both rewarding and frustrating. On two instances (“Hermitage,” “Living Mythology”), a song will begin to build momentum with incredibly catchy riffs, only for the payoff to fizzle due to a lack of direction.

The biggest issue holding back Grey Mountain, however, is the singing. Just as my head starts bobbing to the opening of “Grey Mountain,” the primary vocalist erupts in a sudden screech that sounds like someone recorded their nails scratching a chalkboard. Grey Mountain uses a dual vocalist approach (both Higgs and Haulenbeek receive credit), but it’s difficult to tell who’s who since neither sounds much like they do on other albums. One singer uses muscular death metal growls that suit the songs well. The issue isn’t just that the main vocal attack is bad, but both of the singers are inconsistent. The main guy occasionally loses his screech and actually sounds tolerable (“Hermitage”), while the harsh vocal presence loses steam on the latter half of the album. I’m normally not bothered by extreme vocals, but here they sound so off-pitch it made me cringe.

Listening to Grey Mountain, it’s clear the band had fun making this album; they’re even in talks about writing another Grey Mountain record. Perhaps what they need is additional time writing music together in order to create a more cohesive sound (and please ditch the screeches). The presence of Haulenbeek may not have moved Higgs entirely out of the umbrella of his core Monsterworks/Thūn/Moose Cult sound, and perhaps that’s okay because the prog sound allows for immense variety. While Grey Mountain may sound, at its core, like those other bands, it has enough of its own nuances to give it an identity all its own. Sadly, Grey Mountain doesn’t escape the label’s mixed reception here at AMG, but they show enough promise to break the mold next time.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 10 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Eat Lead and Die Music
Websites: greymountain.bandcamp.com/album/grey-mountain | ampwall.com/a/greymountain2
Releases Worldwide: March 7th, 2025

#25 #2025 #DoomMetal #EatLeadAndDieMusic #GreyMountain #InternationalMetal #Mar25 #Monsterworks #MooseCult #Opeth #PostMetal #ProgressiveMetal #PsychRock #Review #Reviews #Thūn

Warrior Pope – A Morbid Parody of Justice Review

By Killjoy

There have been many recent headlines about a brand new pope, but Warrior Pope from Bristol, UK are here to tell the story of a much older one. The Cadaver Synod refers to the ecclesiastical trial in the year 897 of Pope Formosus, who was already deceased beforehand. Pope Stephen VI, one of Formosus’ successors, ordered the exhumation and public trial of the corpse, after which the dead pope’s papacy was retroactively pronounced null. Stephen cut three fingers off of Formosus’ right hand, arranged for the body to be reburied in a foreigner’s grave, and later decided it should be dumped in the Tiber River instead. Now, the aptly titled A Morbid Parody of Justice seeks to do the proper justice to this macabre historical event that Formosus was denied long ago.

Whereas Warrior Pope’s earlier material was a quirky mixture of post-metal and stoner doom, A Morbid Parody of Justice is even more of a hodgepodge. There is still a prominent doom metal backbone wherein founder Oli Foxen continues to lay down hefty bass lines alongside longtime drummer Katya’s hypnotic rhythms. However, the framework within which they operate is more volatile now that the steady stoner grooves are diminished. The arrival of guitarist Jack Andrews and vocalist David Burke appears to have helped steer Warrior Pope into a less predictable post-hardcore direction, with muddy riffs and frenzied screams and growls. In addition, Burke’s trombone and Katya’s bowed cymbal scrapes and screeches open up new experimental avenues to enrich the overall atmosphere.

But experimentation left unchecked can become detrimental. A Morbid Parody of Justice begins innocuously enough in “Pornocratia,” with soft bass notes increasing in complexity and tastefully enhanced by a somber trombone. Afterward, however, things unravel into a slurry of haphazard ideas. “Despoiling a Cloisters” dips its toes into slow, sludgy waters; “Twenty-Four Popes Later” is a one-minute hardcore punk whirlwind; and closing track “The Method” suddenly launches into belligerent post-hardcore. By far the most puzzling songwriting decision is the dedication of three minutes in “Experience Severing” to aimless guitar amp feedback and bowed cymbal screeches. This is possibly intended to symbolize the three fingers taken from Formosus but no matter the reason, these three cacophonous minutes last far too long. The transitions between tracks are well thought out, which eases the overall flow, but can’t overcome the fact that few individual songs sound like they belong on the same record.

That said, once one becomes accustomed to the stylistic whiplash, it’s evident that all members of Warrior Pope perform their roles well. Oli Foxen’s bass and Jack Andrews’ guitar have satisfying synergy, like the deft bass fills between viscous guitar chords (“Condemnations of Formosus”) or when they join forces to form imposing sound walls (“Rotten Sun”). Katya showcases her prowess with an extended drum solo at the beginning of “Experience Severing,” and her bowed cymbal technique works well as a subtle accompaniment to guest Mike Bishop’s (Gwar, Kepone) lively narration in “Bishop’s Take.” I’m most impressed by David Burke’s vocal versatility as he emits unhinged screams (“Despoiling a Cloisters,” “The Method”), fragile croons (“Strangled Legacy,” “Rotten Sun”), and everything in between. The album mix, however, plays no favorites and gives everyone equal space to shine, particularly in the doomier moments where Warrior Pope sound the most comfortable.

It’s undeniable that Warrior Pope are a creative bunch. This new lineup has loads of potential to reshape traditional metal conventions, but what A Morbid Parody of Justice needed was some of the focus and consistency from Warrior Pope’s prior work. This is a case where the individual components are stronger individually than as a unified whole. I imagine that mileage may vary widely, so anyone looking for something outside the box should give A Morbid Parody of Justice at least a curious spin. It endeared itself to me the more time I spent with it, warts and all. I’ll be rooting for Warrior Pope, and I look forward to whatever musical or historical concepts they decide to tackle next time.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Self-Release
Websites: warriorpope.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/warriorpope
Releases Worldwide: May 30th, 2025

#25 #2025 #AMorbidParodyOfJustice #BritishMetal #DoomMetal #Gwar #Kepone #May25 #PostHardcore #PostMetal #Review #Reviews #SelfRelease #WarriorPope

Stuck in the Filter: March 2025’s Angry Misses

By Kenstrosity

Spring is in the air, and with it comes… an insane number of cicadas! Yes, that’s right, Brood XIV spawned this year and is currently overwhelming my staff as they trudge through embuggened ducts to clear out the Filter of semi-precious metal. I bet it’s fucking loud in there…

…. eh I’m sure they are all fine. Just fine. Anyway, enjoy the spoils of our toils!

Kenstrosity’s Gloopy Grubber

Acid Age // Perilous Compulsion [February 28th, 2025 – Self Released]

Belfast’s wacky thrash conglomerate Acid Age came out of absolutely nowhere back in March, unleashing their fourth LP Perilous Compulsion and equipping it with one helluva van-worthy cover. This is some funky, bluesy, quasi-psychedelic thrash metal that pulls no punches. Riffs abound, bonkers songwriting pervades, immense groove agitates. From the onset, “Bikini Island” establishes Perilous Compulsion as a no-nonsense, balls-out affair which reminds me heavily of Voivod and a simplified Flummox informed by Atheist’s progressive proclivities, and expanded by a touch of Pink Floyd’s nebulous jams. Of course, thrash remains Acid Age’s hero flavor, as choice cuts “State Your Business,” “Revenge for Sale,” and closing one-two punch “Rotten Tooth” and “Hamster Wheel” clearly demonstrate. While their fearless exploration of style and structure maintains a sky-high level of interest, it also introduces a couple of challenges. Firstly, this material can feel a bit disjointed at first, but focused spins reward the listener greatly as all of Perilous Compulsion’s moving parts start to mesh and move in unison. Secondly, Acid Age throws a spotlight on a few brilliant inclusions that, over time, I wish were more often utilized—namely, the delightfully bluesy harmonica solos on “Rotten Tooth.” Regardless, Acid Age put themselves on my map with Perilous Compulsion. I recommend you put them on yours, too!

Owlswald’s Desiccated Discoveries

Verbian // Casarder [March 21st, 2025 – Lost Future Records]

It’s unjust that Portuguese rockers Verbian—who have been producing quality post-rock since 2019’s Jaez—haven’t received the attention they deserve. Fusing elements of post-rock with metal, psychedelic, and stoner, Casarder is Verbian’s third full-length and the first with new drummer Guilherme Gonçalves. Taking the sounds and inspirations of 2020’s Irrupção and enriching it with new permutations and modulations, Casarder’s largely instrumental character rides punchy riffs and roiling grooves—à la Russian Circles and Elder—to transmit its thought-provoking legitimacy. Dystopian and surreal séances, via echoing Korg synthscapes (“Pausa Entre Dias,” “Vozes da Ilha”) and celestial harmonies, permeate Casarder’s forty-three-minute runtime, translating Madalena Pinto’s striking Aeon Flux-esque cover art with precision. Ominous horn sections and crusty recurrent vocals (“Marcha do Vulto,” “Depois de Toda a Mudança”) by guitarist Vasco Reis and bassist Alexandre Silva underscore Verbian’s individuality in a crowded post-rock domain. Gonçalves’s drumming—with his intricate and enchanting hard rock and samba rhythms (“Nada Muda,” “Fruta Caída do Mar”)—adds a new dimension to Verbian’s sound, assuring my attention never falters. The group describes Casarder as communicating the “…insecurities of artistic expression and personal exposure when it comes to fearing being judged for something that is somewhat outside of what is done in each artist’s niche.” Indeed, Casarder reveals Verbian is unafraid to forge their own path, and the results are gripping.

Symbiotic Growth // Beyond the Sleepless Aether [March 28th, 2025 – Self Released]

Beyond the Sleepless Aether, the sophomore effort by Ontario, Canada’s Symbiotic Growth, immediately caught my attention with its dreamy-looking cover. Building upon their 2020 self-titled debut, the Canadian trio hones epic and long-form progressive death metal soundscapes, narrating a quest for meaning across alternate realities in mostly lengthy, yet rewarding, tracks that blend technicality, atmosphere, and melody. The group frequently employs dynamic shifts, moving between raging brutality and serene shoegaze beauty (“Arid Trials and Barren Sands,” “The Sleepless Void”). This is achieved through complex and vengeful passages alongside atmospheric synth lines and softer piano interludes (“Sires of Boundless Sunset,” “Of Painted Skies and Dancing Lights”), cultivating an air of wonder, mystery, and ethereality that permeates much of Symbiotic Growth’s material. “The Architect of Annihilation” echoes the style of Ne Obliviscaris with its blend of clean harmonies and harsh growls meshed with tremolo-picked arpeggiations and catchy hooks (the guitar solo even features a violin-like quality). “Lost in Fractured Reveries” evokes In Mourning with its parallel synth and guitar lines giving way to devastating grooves that make it impossible not to headbang. Although some fine-tuning remains—the clean vocals could use some more weight and tracks like “Of Painted Skies and Dancing Lights” and “The Architect of Annihilation” overstay their welcome at times—Beyond the Sleepless Aether shows Symbiotic Growth’s burgeoning talent and signals the group is one to watch in progressive death metal.

Dear Hollow’s Drudgery Sludgery Hoist

Spiritbox // Tsunami Sea [March 7th, 2025 – Pale Chord Records | Rise Records]

From humble beginnings in a more artsy-fartsy djent post-Iwrestledabearonce world to becoming the darlings of Octane Radio, Spiritbox has seen quite the ascent. While it’s easy to look at their work and scoff at its radio-friendliness, sophomore full-length Tsunami Sea shows Courtney LaPlante and company sticking to their guns. Simultaneously more obscure and more radio-friendly in its selection of tracks, expect its signature blend of colossal riffs and ethereal melodies guided by LaPlante’s siren-then-sea serpent dichotomy of furious roars and haunting cleans. Yes, Spiritbox helms its attack with the radio singles (“Perfect Soul,”1 “Crystal Roses”) in layered soaring choruses and touches of hip-hop undergirded by fierce grooves, but the meat of Tsunami Sea finds the flexibility and patience in the skull-crushing brutality (“Soft Spine,” “No Loss, No Love”) and its more exploratory songwriting that amps layers of the ethereal and the hellish with catchy riffs and vocals alike (“Fata Morgana,” “A Haven of Two Faces”). It’s far from perfect, and its tendency towards radio will be divisive, but it shows Spiritbox firing on all cylinders.

Unfleshing // Violent Reason [March 28th, 2025 – Self Released]

I am always tickled pink by blackened crust. It takes the crusty violence and propensity for filth and adds black metal’s signature sinister nature. Unfleshing is a young, unsigned blackened crust band from St. Louis, and with debut Violent Reason, you can expect a traditional punk-infused beatdown with a battered guitar tone and sinister vocals. However, more than many, the quartet offers a beatdown that feels as atmospheric as it is pummeling. Don’t get me wrong, you get your skull caved in like the poor guy on the cover with minute-long crust beatdowns (“Body Bag,” “From the Gutter”) and full-length smackdowns (“Knife in the Dark,” “Final Breath”), both styles complete with scathing grooves, squalid feedback, climactic solos and punishing blastbeats, atop a blackened roar dripping with hate. But amid the full-throttle assault, Unfleshing utilizes ominous black metal chord progressions and unsettling plucking to add a more dynamic feature to Violent Reason (“Cathedral Rust,” “One With the Mud”). The album never overstays, and while traditional, it’s a hell of a start for Unfleshing.

Ghostsmoker // Inertia Cult [March 21st, 2025 – Art as Catharsis Records]

Ghostsmoker seems like the perfect stoner metal band name, but aside from the swampy guitar tone, there’s something much sinister lurking. Proffering a caustic blackened doom/sludge not unlike Thou, Wormphlegm, and Sea Bastard, the Melbourne group quartet devotes a crisp forty-two minutes to sprawling doom weighted by a crushing guitar tone that rivals Morast‘s latest, and shrieked vocals straight from the latest church burning. Beyond what’s expected from this particular breed of devastation, Ghostsmoker infuses an evocative patience reminiscent of post-metal’s more sludgy offerings like Neurosis or Pelican, lending a certain atmosphere and mood of dread and wilderness depicted on its cover. From the outright chugging attacks of churning aggression (“Elogium,” “Haven”) to the more experimental and thoughtful pieces (“Bodies to Shore,” instrumental closer “The Death of Solitude”), Inertia Cult largely feels like a journey through uncharted forests, with voices whispering from the trees. Ghostsmoker is something special.

GardensTale’s Paralyzed Spine

Spiine // Tetraptych [March 27th, 2025 – Self Released]

Is it still a supergroup release when half the lineup are session musicians? Spiine is made up of Sesca Scaarba (Virgin Black) and Xen (ex-Ne Obliviscaris), but on debut Tetraptych they are joined by guests Waltteri Väyrynen (Opeth) and Lena Abé (My Dying Bride). Usually, so much talent put into the same room does not yield great results. Tetraptych is one hell of an exception. A monstrous slab of crawling heaviness, Spiine lurches with abject despair through the mires of deathly funeral doom. Though I usually eschew this genre, my attention remains rapt through a variety of variations. The songwriting keeps the 4 tracks progressing, slow and steady builds, and the promise of momentary tempo changes working a two-pronged structural plan to buoy the majestic yet miserable riffs. “Oubliiette” is the best example here, going from galloping death-doom to Georgian choirs to a fantastic bridge where all the instrumentation hits only on the roared syllables. Xen’s unholy bellows flatten any objections I may have had, managing both thunder and deepest woe in the same notes. The subtle orchestration and occasional choir arrangements finish the package with regal grandeur, and the lush and warm production is the cherry on top. If you feel like drowning your sorrows with an hour of colossal doom, this is the album for you.

Saunders’ Stenched Staples

Ade // Supplicium [March 14th, 2025 – Time to Kill Records]

Sometimes unjustly pigeonholed as the Roman-inspired version of Nile, the hugely underrated Ade have punched out a solid career of quality death metal releases since emerging roughly fifteen years ago, charting their own path. Albums like 2013’s ripping Spartacus and 2019’s solid Rise of the Empire represent a tidy snapshot of the band’s career. Fifth album Supplicium, their first LP in six years, marks a low-key, welcome return. Exotic instrumentation and attention to history and storytelling are alive and well in the Ade camp, as is their penchant for punishing, unrelenting death, featuring a deftly curated mix of bombast, brutality, technical spark, and epic atmospheres. Edoardo Di Santo (Hideous Divinity) joins a largely refreshed line-up, including a new bassist and second guitarist since their last album. Line-up changes aside, familiar Ade tools of harrowing ancient Roman tales and modern death destruction remain as consistently solid as always. Top-notch riffs, intricate arrangements, fluid tempo shifts, and explosive drumming highlight songs that frequently flex their flair for drama-fueled atmospheres, hellfire blasts, and burly grooves. The immense, multi-faceted “Burnt Before Gods,” exotic melodies and raw savagery of “Ad Beastias!,” spitfire intensity of “Vinum,” and epically charged throes of “From Fault to Disfigurement” highlight more solid returns from Ade.

Masters of Reality // The Archer [March 28th, 2025 – Artone Label Group/Mascot Records]

Underappreciated desert rock pioneers and quirky stalwarts Masters of Reality returned from recording oblivion some fifteen-plus years since they last unleashed an LP. Led by the legendary Chris Goss and his collaborative counterparts across a career that first kicked off in the late ’80s, Masters of Reality return sounding inspired, wisened, and a little more chilled. Re-tinkering their familiar but ever-shifting sound, Masters of Reality incorporate woozy, bluesy laidback vibes featuring their oddball songwriting traits through a sedate, intriguing collection of new songs. The Archer showcases Masters of Reality’s longevity as seasoned, skilled songwriters, regardless of the shifting rock modes they explore. While perhaps lacking some of the energetic spark and earworm hooks of albums like Sunrise on the Sufferbus and Deep in the Hole, The Archer still marks a fine return outing. Goss’ signature voice is in fine form, and the bluesy, psych-drenched guitars, cushy basslines, ’60s and ’70s influences, and spacey vibes create a comforting haze. The delightfully dreamy, trippy “Chicken Little,” laidback hooks and old school charms of “I Had a Dream,” lively, quirky grooves of “Mr Tap n’ Go,” and moody, melancholic balladry of “Powder Man” highlight another diverse, strange brew from the veteran act.

Tyme’s Unheard Annunciations

Doomsday // Never Known Peace [March 28th, 2025 – Creator-Destructor Records]

March’s filter means spring is here, mostly, which is when I start searching for bands to populate my annual edition of Tyme’s Mowing Metal. There’s nothing I enjoy more than cracking a cold beer, sliding my headphones over my ears, and hopping on the mower to complete one of summer’s—at least for me—most enjoyable chores. A band that will feature prominently this summer is Oakland, California’s crossover thrash quintet Doomsday, and their Creator-Destructor Records debut album, Never Known Peace. Doomsday lays down a ton of mindless fun in the vein of other crossover greats like Enforced and Power Trip. There are riffs aplenty on this deliciously executed hardcore-tinged thrashtastic platter full of snarly, spiteful, Jamey Jasta-esque vocals, trademark gang shouts, and, oh, did I mention the riffs? Yeah, cuz there’s a butt-ton of ’em. Leads and solos are melodic (“Death is Here,” “Eternal Tombs”). Within its beefily warm mix, the chug-a-lug breakdowns run rampant across Never Known Peace‘s thirty-one minutes (seriously, there’s one in every track), leaving nary a tune that won’t have you at least bobbing your head and, at most, causing your neck a very nasty case of whipthrash. I’m going to be listening to Never Known Peace ALOT this summer, on and off my mower, and while I don’t care that the lawn lines in my yard will be a little wavier this year than others, I’ll chalk it up to the beer and the head banging Doomsday‘s Never Known Peace instills.

Rancid Cadaver // Mortality Denied [March 21st, 2025 – Self Released]

Another filter, another fetid fragment of foulness; this month, it’s up-and-coming deathstarts Rancid Cadaver and their independently released debut album Mortality Denied. Adam Burke’s excellent cover art caught my eye during a quick dip into the Bandcamp pool and had me pushing play. A thick slab of murderous meat ripe with fatty veins of Coffin Mulch and Morbific running through it, Mortality Denied overflows with tons of bestial vocals, crushing drums, barbaric bass, and squealing solos, all ensorcelled within the majesty of Rancid Cadaver‘s miasmic riff-gurgitations (“Slurping the Cerebral Slime,” “Mass of Gore,” and “Drained of Brains”). Fists will pump, and faces will stank during the Fulci-friendly “Zombified,” a pulverizing slow-death chug fest with an intro that landed me right back on the shores of Dr. Menard’s island of the undead.2 This quartet of Glaswegians has plopped down a death metal debut that ages like wine, getting better and better with consecutive spins. Surprisingly, Rancid Cadaver is unsigned, but I’m confident that status should change before we see a sophomore effort, and you can bet I’ll be there when that happens.

Dolphin Whisperer’s Unsophisticated Slappers

Crossed // Realismo Ausente [March 21st, 2025 – Zegema Beach Records]

Timing means everything in groove. I know that some people say that they have a hard time finding that kind of bob and sway in extreme music. But with an act like Spain’s Crossed, whose every carved word and every skronked guitar noise follows an insatiable punky stride, groove lies in every moment of third full-length Realismo Ausente. Whether it’s on the classic beat of D (“Vaciar Un Corazón,” “Cuerpo Distorsionado”), the twanging drone of a screaming bend (“Monotonía de la lluvia en la Ventana”), or the Celtic Frost-ed hammer of a chord crush (“Catedral”), a calculated, urgent, and intoxicating cadence colors the grayscale attitude throughout. But just because Crossed can find a groove in any twisted mathy rhythm—early Converge and Dillinger Escape Plan come to mind on quick cuts like “Cerrojo” and “Sentirse Solo”—doesn’t mean that their panic chord-loaded crescendos and close-outs can’t rip your head clean off in banging ecstasy. Easy listening and blackened hardcore can’t go hand-in-hand, but Crossed does their very best to make unintelligible, scathing screeches and ceiling-scraping feedback hissing palatable against crunchy punk builds and throbbing, warm bass grumbles. Likewise, Realismo Ausente stabs into a dejected body tales of loathing, fear, self-rejection, and defeated existence—nothing smiles in its urgent and apathetic crevices. But despite the lack of light at the end of the tunnel of Crossed’s horror-touched vision of impassioned hardcore, an analog warmth and human spirit trapped inside a writhing and pleading throat reveal a presence that’s still fighting. It’s the fight that counts. If you didn’t join the fight last time, now’s as good a time as any.

Nothing // The Self Repair Manifesto [March 26th, 2025 – Self Released]

If you noticed a tree zombie heading steaming through its trepanned opening, then you too found the same initial draw I had to The Self Repair Manifesto. Nothing complex often can draw us to the things we desire, yet in Nothing’s particular attack of relentless, groove-based death metal, many nooks of additional interest exist. The Self Repair Manifesto’s tribal rhythm-stirred “Initiation,” in its bouncy play, does little to set up the double-kick pummel and snarling refrains that lurk in this brutal, Australian soundscape. The simple chiming cymbal-fluttering bass call-and-response of “Subterfuge,” the throat singing summoning of “The Shroud,” the immediate onslaught of “Abrogation”—all in under 30 minutes, an infectious and progressive experience unfolds. And never fear, living by the motto “no clean singing,”3 Nothing has no intention of traveling the wandering and crooning path of an Opeth or In Vain. Rather, Nothing finds a hypnotic rhythmic presence both in fanciful kit play that stirs a foot shuffle and high-tempo stick abuse that urges bodies on bodies in the pit (“Subterfuge,” “The Shroud”), much in the same way you might hear in early Decapitated or Hate Eternal works. With flair of their own, though, and a mic near the mouth vessel of each member (yes, even the drummer!) to maintain a layered harsh intensity, Nothing serves a potent blend of death metal that is as jam-able as it is gym-able. Whether you seek gains or progressive enrichment, Nothing is the answer.

Steel Druhm’s Massive Aggressive

Impurity // The Eternal Sleep [ March 7th, 2025 – Hammerheart Records]

Impurity’s lust for all things Left Hand Path is not the least bit Clandestine, and on their full-length debut, The Eternal Sleep, they attempt to craft their own ode to the rabid HM-2 worship of the early 90s Swedeath sound. No new elements are shoehorned in aside from vaguely blackened ones, and there’s not the slightest effort to push the boundaries of the admittedly limited Swedeath sound. The Eternal Sleep sounds like the album that could have come between Entombed’s timeless debut and the Clandestine follow-up, and that’s not a bad place to be. It’s heavy, brutish, buzzing death metal with an OSDM edge, and it hits like a runaway 18-wheeler full of concrete and titanium rebar. One only needs to weather the shitstorm of opener “Denial of Clarity” to realize this is the deep water of the niche genre. It’s extremely heavy, face-melting death with more fuzz and buzz than your brain can process. Other cuts feel like a direct lift from Left Hand Path and/or Clandestine (“Tribute to Creation,”) and fetid Dismember tidbits creep in during “Pilgrimage to Utumno,” and these feel like olde friends showing up unexpectedly at the hometown watering hole. Swedeath is all about those ragged, jagged riffs, and they’re delivered in abundance over The Eternal Sleep, and despite the intrinsic lack of originality, Impurity pump enough steroids and Cialis into the genre archetypes to make the material endearing and engaging. Yes, you’ve heard this shit before. Now hear it again, chumbo!

Ash Twin Project – Tales of a Dying Sun Review

By sentynel

Metal has a long history of writing songs inspired by science fiction and fantasy, probably because we’re all a bunch of great big nerds. Outer Wilds is a singular piece of storytelling, a work that couldn’t be told in any medium other than a video game: a story and a series of revelations pieced together from found fragments, with no enforced order or progression beyond what the player finds and assembles. Imagine my excitement when I saw the obviously Outer Wilds-inspired Ash Twin Project appear in the promo queue. Imagine how quickly I mashed the “assign to self” button before any of the other fans on the staff could pinch it.1 I’m going to avoid saying more about the game in this review to minimise spoilers for those who haven’t played it. Just trust me that if you like exploration and stories, you should drop everything and play it. (And avoid listening to the lyrics on this record until you have.)

I hadn’t even stopped to check the genre when I picked up Tales of a Dying Sun, but fortuitously, it’s post-rock/-metal and would have been my thing even without the theme. Ash Twin Project sit on the more melodic and immediate end of the genre. There’s not a huge amount of wandering ambience here, nor of huge, crushing riffs. Their guitar work is nearly always pretty, and the five songs here tend to evolve and reprise through a series of pretty melodies and occasional chugging riffs. There’s even a very prog-rock solo or two (“Cœlacanthe”). It’s very vocal heavy, befitting the narrative goal of the project. Eglantine Dugrand does most of the work with clean singing. She’s occasionally supported by Nicolas Lougnon’s harsh vocals in the traditional hardcore-influenced post-metal style.

Outer Wilds is a very musical game. The soundtrack is excellent, but it’s also important to the gameplay and story in a number of ways. Ash Twin Project have a tricky balance to strike in acknowledging that without simply covering the songs. They pull it off via some generally subtle musical references. Players will find the openings of tracks like “The Wilds,” “Isolation,” and “Sunless City” familiar, and more obviously the end of the album on “Moon.” Tales of a Dying Sun’s flaw is that aside from this, there’s little that makes Ash Twin Project stand out from a surfeit of other post-rock/metal bands. It’s not particularly unique, nor particularly hard-hitting. Post- led by a female vocalist brings obvious comparisons to healthyliving, but ATP aren’t distinctive to the same extent.

I need to highlight Stéphane Cocuron’s work on bass, metal’s most neglected instrument, which is interesting, forward in the mix, and interacts well with the guitars (“Sunless City”). Dugrand is a versatile lead vocalist. The material calls for a variety of tones, from ethereal to sweet to breathy to soaring to a belt, often on the same song (“Cœlacanthe,” “Isolation”), and she spans all these and more without any trouble. I’m not a huge fan of the slight vibrato she uses at times, but it’s hard to complain too much. The lyrics feel like they’re trying a bit too hard a lot of the time—often both overly literal and overly complex (“The Wilds,” “Cœlacanthe”). Nobody listens to metal for the poetic lyrics, but they’re such a big part of what the album is going for, so it’s a bit disappointing.

Tales of a Dying Sun is good. It’s melodic post-metal done well. It does a commendable job of referencing its source material in a way that tickles the brain without being derivative of it. Dugrand does a lot of the work carrying the album and does it well. But in the end, the connection with the game made me want to like this more than I actually do. I like it, but it’s not unique enough or hard-hitting enough to climb my year-end list.

Rating: Good
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Klonosphere Records
Websites: ashtwinproject.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/ashtwinprojectband
Releases Worldwide: April 4th, 2025

#2025 #30 #Apr25 #AshTwinProject #FrenchMetal #healthyliving #KlonosphereRecords #PostRock #PostMetal #Review #Reviews #TalesOfADyingSun

Lástima – A Pain Bloomed from My Lungs Review

By Twelve

I was first made aware of US-based Lástima, as is often the case around here, from a casual perusal in our Promo Pit. After reading way too many promo spiels in one sitting, I came across A Pain Bloomed from My Lungs. The aforementioned band’s blurb was in fact a personal account from a label executive, recounting how he was so blown away by their live performance “in one of the dingiest punk basements [he’s] had the pleasure of skulking in.” His description of a “vicious but hauntingly beautiful post-black assault” won me over, and here I am now, trying to repay the unique promo experience with a review. The story made me want to see Lástima perform in a dingy punk basement—can their debut full-length achieve the same?

With a clean polish and an affinity for harmony, A Pain Bloomed from my Lungs is the opposite of a dingy punk basement in many ways. It’s got all the makings of high-quality metal in the Deafhaven style—it’s got the post-, the -core, and the -gaze blended together through a black metal formula. One thing that will set Lástima apart is Thuy Nguyen, whose omnipresent violin gives A Pain Bloomed from my Lungs a neo-classical feel, even as vocalist Richie DeVon growls, sings, and shrieks his way through the journey. DeVon’s riffs, jointly with Eric Mauro’s, give bassist Hazel Whitman and drummer Sam Hyla much to keep up with, but the album’s pace is another one of its strengths. Another differentiator is Lástima’s influence from Latin culture, present in theme and occasional language choice, as in songs like “Al Cerro Ancón” and “Espantapájaros (1930).” Put together, it’s a strong sound that does not, at first pass, sound much like it is “only” a debut.

The greatest strength of A Pain Blossomed from my Lungs, however, is its affinity for emotional composition and Lástima’s for executing them. The gorgeous violin-guitar duo that kicks off “Al Cerro Ancón,” the clean singing that builds to a climax in “Redux,” and even the brief-but-gorgeous “Hazel Interlude” showcase Lástima’s significant potential. “Sin Sol” is another great example, a song with peaks and valleys from strong black metal, harsh and furious riffs, and quieter, classical moments. The ebb and flow of “Sin Sol” in particular suggests a seasoned approach that is frankly delightful to experience, and so much of it so heartfelt, leaning into the beauty of Nguyen’s violin and the emotional compositions.

So there’s a lot going on in A Pain Blossomed from my Lungs, much of it contradictory, as Lástima leans into juxtaposition to achieve emotional resonance. There are moments, however, where these opposites don’t attract, often because one style works so much better than another. DeVon’s vocals, for example, shift between hardcore shouts, plaintive cleans, and black metal screams. The trouble is, I love DeVon’s cleans more than his screams, and I like his screams much more than his shouts. Similarly, Nguyen’s violins are beautiful, but their constant presence detracts from the heaviest songs, “Lyla” chief among them. There’s a sense that Lástima wants Nguyen to always have something to do, but there are times when there is too much happening. This is especially the case in “Lyla” and “Septiembre,” both of which might have benefited from a more relaxed approach.

I could argue that A Pain Blossomed from my Lungs is an uneven listen, but that would send the wrong idea—it hovers between being good and very good, between pleasant and active listening. I can see how Lástima won over a label from a single live performance—I’ll be keeping an eye out to see if they appear near me. A Pain Blossomed from my Lungs deftly balances styles and emotions. Whether you’re a fan of black metal or more of a -core/-gaze kind of listener, there’s something to check out here… so I recommend you do.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 4,608 kbps WAV
Label: Liminal Dread Productions
Websites: lastimamusic.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/lastimamusic
Releases Worldwide: May 16th, 2025

#2025 #30 #APainBloomedFromMyLungs #AmericanMetal #BlackMetal #Deafhaven #Lástima #LiminalDreadProductions #May25 #PostMetal #Review #Reviews

Feversea – Man Under Erasure Review

By Thus Spoke

Feversea is a perfect name for a post-metal band. It manages to evoke the genre’s typical moodiness and atmosphere, which, like the sea, can range from tranquil mystique to rage and channeled either through fretful drama or a kind of layered intensity that could faithfully be said to resemble a fever dream. But there’s more to Oslo’s Feversea than their name having a pleasing ring. Their debut Man Under Erasure carries the burden of making an impact in the veritable ocean of groups taking their cue from stalwarts like Cult of Luna and Russian Circles.1 Their claims of multi-genre influence, and black metal in particular, along with their Norwegian origin, immediately brought to mind experimental metal legends Dødheimsgard, although that’s arguably an unfair comparison. Having a voice in the scene can be a challenge, but I’m pleased to report that it’s one Feversea meet gallantly.

While containing nothing so unexpected as to approach avant-garde, Man Under Erasure is full of little surprises—good ones at that. Of all the ways I expected the album to begin, the titular opening—with its relatively upbeat electronic melody and soft, spoken-sung vocals—did not appear. From there, Feversea shift between poignancy and pugnacity, and punctuate their sombre pessimism with mellow optimism. Reverberant leads and unshowy, haunting cleans are more often than not turned eerie by their accompanying sludgy riffs and aggressive percussion, making those truly stripped-back portions feel even more still. Gloomy moods are enhanced or traded for fury with blurred, even dissonant tremolo, d-beating or blastbeating pace, and throaty screams. The tone is consistently somewhat brooding, but Feversea avoid treading into an introspective dreaminess with this turbulence between post-metal ethereality and hardcore and blackened fury, their atmosphere maintaining a bite with sinister melodic turns and vocal switches to vicious roars.

Across Man Under Erasure, Feversea showcase an impressive talent for creative songwriting. The particular fusion of sludge, hardcore, black metal, and electronica that they employ makes for dynamic and engaging pieces. When atmospheric, their presence is tangible (“New Creatures Replace Our Names,” “Invocation,” “Until it Goes Away”), and when more energetic, they possess a refreshingly unconventional spirit (“Decider,” “Kindred Spirit”). The faint shadows of the aforementioned Dødheimsgard are actually audible in spinning synth lines and playfully lurching blackened guitar scattered in fleeting moments across the album (“Murmur Within the Skull of God,” “Sunkindling,” “Kindred Spirit”). While it’s all good, there are passages in particular that hit upon some glorious interplay of styles; sometimes a powerfully stirring surge of emotion wrapped in layers of tremolo and electronica (“Invocation,” “Kindred Spirit”), sometimes a deceptively simple and undeniably catchy sludge-post, sludge-black, or electronica-post refrain (“New Creatures…,” “Decider,” title track). Feversea do both calm and lively with like ease and make the transitions between them sound easy.

The multifaceted nature of their sound avoids feeling fickle—for the most part—and instead sounds quite smooth. This is in large part thanks to the stellar work of the individual musicians who comprise Feversea—for most of whom this is their first and only band. Though everyone deserves credit, I have to give extra kudos to vocalist Ada Lønne Emberland, who performs both harsh and clean leads and is absolutely killing it with subtly emotive singing and razor-sharp screams. Melodies retain memorability and songs a satisfying crunch and flavour through punchy, audible riffs and a refreshingly crisp production that allows one to hear the space created between the chugs, soft “ahh-ahh-ahh”s, shaking percussion, and warm synth. If I had to nitpick, I would suggest cutting down some of the longer tracks, to improve their impact that is weakened by repetition, or the inclusion of just one too many ideas (“Decider,” “Until it Goes Away,” “Kindred Spirit”2).

Feversea nonetheless come out on top with a unique and engaging record that pays only the small price of feeling a touch unfocused. Man Under Erasure isn’t just impressive for a debut, it’s impressive in its own right with its smart blend of styles and fluent execution. A pleasure to listen to. Post-metal fans ought to keep their eye on Feversea, for the inevitable masterwork to come.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 11 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Dark Essence Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: May 23rd, 2025

#2025 #35 #CultOfLuna #DarkEssenceRecords #Dödheimsgard #ElectronicMetal #Feversea #ManUnderErasure #May25 #NorwegianMetal #PostBlackMetal #PostMetal #Review #Reviews #SludgeMetal

Svarta Havet – Månen Ska Lysa Din Väg Review

By Kenstrosity

Hailing from Turku, Finland, post-hardcore/blackened post-punk activists Svarta Havet boast a passionate mission statement focused on denouncing fascism; raising connected communities; advocating queer, feminist, and transgender rights and justice; rejecting late-stage capitalist values and recognizing their wide reaching damages to society and the planet; and supporting animal rights. Oftentimes, material dealing with these ideals in the heavy music space trend towards the cynical, hopeless, and bitter perspectives. Those are all valid emotional responses of course, but for Svarta Havet, the primary message is one of hope. These Finns truly believe humanity can turn it around, and make the right choices together to one day repair our connection to ourselves as human beings, to the Earth as stewards of its land and inseparable members of the greater ecosystem, and to our communities as social creatures who thrive together and not apart.

It’s this message that drew me to Svarta Havet, at Steel’s recommendation, having never heard a note of their music before. What I beheld in their sophomore record, Månen Ska Lysa Din Väg, is exactly what my promo says on the tin. Post-punk and post-hardcore, with a blackened char. Comparisons to Oathbreaker, Unfurl, and early Downfall of Gaia fit right at home within Svarta Havet’s, albeit more stripped-down interpretation of the style. Building bridges between airy atmosphere and driven, punky attitudes, Månen Ska Lysa Din Väg boasts a variety of moods, textures, and tempos to help enliven each of its tight 37 minutes. At the same time, it sports a bleak, monochromatic tone that grounds its lively performances inside the reality of our world. With this intriguing formula, Svarta Havet achieve a sound rooted in the trials and tribulations of society in the current era while the fire of change, of hope, and of a deep yearning for a better tomorrow roils just underfoot.

Because Svarta Havet designed Månen Ska Lysa Din Väg to deliver hopeful, motivating messaging to its audience, I understood why many of these songs aren’t as aggressive, depressive, or explosive as my aforementioned reference points. When “Härlig Är Jorden” implements a slower, more deliberate motif as its primary structure right after opener “Göm Dig” lays across the landscape its blackened post-punk blade, the intent is clear. Månen Ska Lysa Din Väg is a record for those who wish to listen with an active, open mind, separated from the primal need for relentless riffs and uncompromising violence. As “Avgrunden” and later MENA-influenced cut “Djur” raise themselves above the horizon with looming, overcast moods and textured leads, the grim reality of the world is placed firmly in the foreground. However, interspersed within those themes, a counterpoint of inspirational, almost exuberant tremolos and ascendant atmospheric blooms belie that spirit which is unwilling to yield to the shadows. “Göm Dig” and “Alla Stover” stoke that fire with the most riff-centric material Svarta Havet have to offer in this installment, brimming with a lively swagger and a punky attitude. In this back-and-forth, Månen Ska Lysa Din Väg succeeds in its mission of finding the light in a world that’s lost its way.

The main roadblock to making this record stand out more is one of balance in its compositions. Too often, passages which establish their purpose and achieve their desired effect within the first minute or two extend far past that point, which compromises their impact (“Härlig Är Jorden,” “Ditt Rike”). Sometimes this detrimental quality comes about in the form of a heavy reliance on baseline repetition. Other times, it manifests in a meandering passage whose resolution doesn’t always justify the wait. In other areas, Svarta Havet’s heavier passages can seem overly busy when placed as they are next to more thoughtful pieces (particularly the chorus to “Alla Stover”). Another byproduct of the imbalance Månen Ska Lysa Din Väg carries, the most memorable material leaves very little room for the in-betweens to make a lasting impression. I easily recall “Djur” for its doom-laden riffs and hypnotic depiction of those scenes of war that devastate the same animal ecosystems to which we all intrinsically belong, but I can’t remember a note of its sequel “Under Staden.” This is especially conflicting as “Under Staden” is arguably the more important of the two to Svarta Havet’s mission, spotlighting the remarkable resilience we see in nature, particularly in animals and insects, within sprawling artificial developments.

When the dust settles, and Månen Ska Lysa Din Väg heaves its last blackened breath, I find myself torn. I love the intent and passion Svarta Havet instilled within their sophomore album, and I think this style of music beautifully fits the prompt. However, I yearn to feel an unbridled enthusiasm for Månen Ska Lysa Din Väg that keeps me coming back for more without a second thought. Instead, I feel a respectable excitement for what Svarta Havet might do to develop their material further going forward. So I wait, on the edge of my seat, to hear what they do next.

Rating: Mixed
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Prosthetic Records
Website: facebook.com/svartahafvet
Releases Worldwide: May 9th, 2025

#25 #2025 #BlackMetal #DownfallOfGaia #FinnishMetal #MånenSkaLysaDinVäg #May25 #Oathbreaker #PostBlackMetal #PostHardcore #PostMetal #postPunk #ProstheticRecords #Review #Reviews #SvartaHavet #Unfurl

Stuck in the Filter: February 2025’s Angry Misses

By Kenstrosity

February comes down the pipe about two or three months after February. A perfectly normal thing to experience here at AMG HQ, this Filter’s tardiness is brought to you in part by my body getting stuck in one of the tighter conduits that lines the concrete interior of this confounded bunker. My minions are elsewhere, trudging through similar environs, and report their findings to me via eldritch beast telepathy. Since I obviously don’t speak eldritch tongue, I have to use my Codex of Enspongification to decipher these antediluvian transmissions. I’m sure you can imagine, that takes no small measure of time, especially when you’re stuck in this galvanized prison of rusting sheetmetal.

Until my ungrateful minions can find me and rescue me—something I don’t expect to happen anytime soon considering I give them no workers benefits or pay of any kind—you’ll have to make do with the selections of rough-hewn and sharp, but valuable, ore provided below. OBSERVE AT YOUR OWN RISK!

Kenstrosity’s Crusty Grab

Metaphobic // Deranged Excruciations [February 28th, 2025 – Everlasting Spew Records]

When Atlantan death metal quintet Metaphobic caught my attention with the megalithic riffs opening their debut LP Deranged Excruciations, I thought the stank face it brought out of me might be permanent. Nothing new and nothing sophisticated awaits here. Just brutalizing riffs delivered in a relentless sequence of destruction. Lead guitars squeal and scrape against the swampy ground underfoot, leaving a noxious slime trail behind “Mental Deconstruction” and “Execration” that tastes of Tomb Mold, Incantation, and Demilich to varying degrees. Guttural utterances and cacophonic—but accessibly structured—riffs offer the same infernal ferocity of the olden ways. However, in a similar manner to Noxis, their application here feels modern and fresh-ish (“Execration,” “Veiled Horizons,” “Hypnosis Engram”). Not nearly as nuanced as that comparison might suggest, Metaphobic are more than satisfied to use their brutish death metal as a cudgel for blunt force trauma. Nods to death doom in long-form wanderings like “Disciples of Vengeance” and “Insatiable Abyss” provide an appreciable variation in pace, though it doesn’t always work in Metaphobic’s favor. While those songs tend to meander too long on ideas unfit to support such mass for so long, livid outbursts like “Veiled Horizons” and “Reconstituted Grey Matter” more than make up for it. In short Deranged Excruciations commands my attention enough to earn my recommendation here, and my attention going forward.

Tyme’s Missing Minutes

Caustic Phlegm // Purulent Apocalypse [February 28, 2025 – Hells Headbangers]

Caustic Phlegm is the filth project helmed solely by Chestcrush main man Evan Vasilakos, who joyously employed his HM-2 and RAT pedals to create the utter disgustingness that is Purulent Apocalypse. A far cry from the angsty, I’d-rather-see-humanity-dead blackened death metal of his main outfit, Caustic Phlegm is a throwback to the days when Carnage walked the streets of Sweden and Impetigo was melting faces and killing brain cells. Purulent Apocalypse is a platter of pestiferous riffs (“Fouled, Infected & Infested,” “Soft Bones,” “Blister Bliss”), so many it’s like sitting on a death metal toilet puking and shitting riffs ad nauseam. Evan’s drum work, replete with the occasional but very satisfying St. Anger snare tone, drives the mindless fun forward, and the 80’s zombie giallo synth work would have Lucio Fulci himself clawing out of his grave to eat your face. Vasilakos’ vocals are a fine litany of belches, squelches, and gurgles that sound like a colony of maggots cleaning the putrid flesh from a corpulent corpse. Caustic Phlegm is the foul stench of death and will have you reaching for the soap and steel wool as you try to rid yourself of the Purulent Apocalypse infection.

Vermilia // Karsikko [February 14, 2025 – Self Release]

Had the incomparable Darkher not released The Buried Storm in 2022, Vermilia‘s Ruska would have garnered my top spot that year, which put her on my radar for the first time. When I saw Vermilia‘s follow-up, Karsikko had dropped in February—sadly we didn’t receive a promo—I jumped at the chance to filter it. While Karsikko is a bit more straightforward than Ruska, it’s full of liltingly beautiful pianos (“Karsikko”) that give way to icy black metal riffs (“Kansojen Kaipuu”) and gorgeously rendered folk metal melodies (“Koti,” “Veresi”). Comparisons with Myrkur and Suldusk would be appropriate, but Vermilia continues to carve out her own space in the folk black metal scene, marrying beatific melody with beastly aggression. Performing all of the music on Karsikko, as is her one-woman calling card, renders her finished products even more impressive. The highlight has always been the voice, though, as Vermilia deftly transitions between angelic cleans (“Suruhymni”) and frosty rasps (“Vakat”), completing a circle that makes each of her releases a joy to listen to. It’s confounding that another of Vermilia‘s albums is an independent release, which might be artistically intentional or the result of bone-headed label execs. Either way, don’t miss out on Karsikko, as Vermilia shouldn’t stay unsigned for long.

Killjoy’s Drowsy Discovery

Noctambulist // Noctambulist II: De Droom [February 7th, 2025 – These Hands Melt]

Although I love blackgaze, I must admit that it can be challenging to find artists who stand out in the genre, whether through quality songwriting or unexpected twists. It turns out that the Dutch band Noctambulist1 offers both. Noctambulist II: De Droom is a fun and fresh blend of Deafheaven-adjacent blackgaze with a Molotov cocktail of post-punk energy. The power chord-driven guitar lines prove to be an unexpectedly compatible fuel source to propel the shimmering, gazey tremolos and blackened rasps to new heights. Many songs (particularly “Aderlater” and “Lichteter”) start with neat intro melodies that catch the listener’s attention, then build and ride that momentum throughout the remainder. A faint sense of loss—stemming from the achingly relatable theme of homeownership drifting further out of many people’s reach—pervades the record, but there is also an infectious cheerfulness. Despite their name, Noctambulist are hardly sleepwalking as they tread along a well-worn genre.

Thus Spoke’s Disregarded Diamonds

Sacred Noose // Vanishing Spires [February 2nd, 2025 – Breath Sun Bone Blood]

My experience with Irish extreme metal has been that it is all incredibly dark, twisted, and supremely, gorgeously dissonant.2 Belfast3 duo Sacred Noose make absolutely no exception to this rule. Vanishing Spires’ ruthlessly brief 31 minutes are defined by stomach-tightening twisted blackened death designed to cut to the heart of misery and fear. The lurching sensation brought about by rapid tremolo descents and sudden accelerations of ever more dissonant chords, impenetrable drums, and pitch-shifting feedback is nauseating (“Entranced by Concrete Lathe,” “True Emancipation”). The pure horror of the inhuman, high-pitched shrieks answering the already fearsome bellows is anxiety-inducing (“”Black Tempests of Promise,” “Moribund”). The near-constant buzzing of noise is oppressive (“Terminal Prologue,” “True Emancipation”); the creeping, malevolent scales unnerving. And Sacred Noose play with their victim, luring them into a trap of deceptively familiar cavern-core (“Sacred Noose”) before throwing a hood over their head and yanking them backwards into more horrifying mania; or perhaps they’ll start with the assault (“True Emancipation”). This more ‘straightforward’ edge to Sacred Noose is most akin to a faster Sparagmos, while their dominant, demonic personality I can compare most faithfully to Thantifaxath, if Thantifaxath were more death-metal-inclined. Vanishing Spires is the first time since the latter’s 2023 Hive Mind Narcosis that a record has genuinely made me feel afraid.

Crown of Madness // Memories Fragmented [February 28th, 2025 – Transcending Obscurity Records]

Life unfortunately got in the way of me giving this a proper review, but Crown of Madness deserve better than to slip by unmentioned. Memories Fragmented is the duo’s debut, but Crown of Madness is one of several projects both are already in.4. The ominous yet colourful sci-fi/fantasy cover art and spiky logo scream ‘tech-death’ and that is indeed what Crown of Madness deliver. At base, there is some damn fine technical death metal here that’s impressive and acrobatic (), but snappy, not outstaying its welcome—the entire record barely stretches beyond 35 minutes. But there is more to Memories Fragmented, and as a result, it is memorable.5 A drawl to certain refrains (), the tendency to gently sway to a slow, near-pensiveness (), the atmospheric hanging of some tremolos over a warm, dense bass (). There is depth. And it reminded me quite starkly of early Ulcerate. In this vein, the record leans towards the more meandering side of the subgenre, gripping not with hooky riffs and heart-pumping tempos, but an intricate kind of intensity. Memories Fragmented arguably goes too far in the indistinct direction, and as a result, loses immediacy. But the churning, introspective compositions presage the potential for true brilliance on future releases.

Vacuous // In His Blood [February 28th, 2025 – Relapse Records]

Full of youthful vigour, London’s Vacuous demonstrate their willing ability to evolve with their sophomore, In His Blood. While debut Dreams of Dysphoria, which I covered back in 2022, played more or less by the disso-death book, here they are already experimenting. Strange, almost post-metal atmosphere now haunts the boundaries (“Hunger,” “Public Humiliation,” “No Longer Human”), combining brilliantly with the band’s already cavernous death metal sound, and amplifying its fearsomeness. Crowning example of this is the gem Vacuous save for the record’s final act in closer “No Longer Human.” In His Blood also sees them flirt with a punkier energy that borrows more than a little bit of malice from the blackened handbook (“In His Blood,” “Flesh Parade”), backed up by d-beats, and contrasting well with their now less frequent crawls. At its most explosive, In His Blood feels downright unhinged, in the best way (“Stress Positions,” “Immersion”), but it never feels messy, and there’s potential in here for Vacuous to evolve into yet another, incredibly potent form of unique, modern hybrid extreme metal. I wish there were more than 30 minutes of this.

Dolphin Whisperer’s Bottom o’ the Barrel Boons

Pissgrave // Malignant Worthlessness [February 21st, 2025 – Profound Lore Records]

Though it may appear, at a glance, that I have gold-colored glasses for bands of rank and urological reference, I’d call it more of a chance happening that such miscreant acts have created intriguing works. And, truthfully, PISSGRAVE has leaned closer to filth first, function second with the war-leaning crackle (and brazenly offensive cover art) that relegates their lineage to corners of listening ears who need therapy with a high tolerance for guts and grime. Malignant Worthlessness, of course, is not accessible by any means, though, despite these Philly boys packing these nine ode to a failed society in a package that doesn’t cause immediate squirm. But with grooves trapped in an endless skronk and blast, and vocals shifted and layered to reflect the sound of a swarm of Daffy Ducks with a serious disdain for life, PISSGRAVE still embodies an endless swirl of unleashed aggression rendered in riffed and regurgitated form. Malignant Worthlessness lives on the dry and crispy side with most of its tones, which allows copious hits of quick delay and reverb on OUGHs and EEEEEEEUGHs to land with an extra psychedelic knocking when you least expect it. Little slows down the pain train here, with tracks like “Heaping Pile of Electrified Gore” and “Internment Orgy” taking brief detours into chunky guitar builds that feel within grasp of normalcy just before dropping back into an intensified flaying. Elsewhere, a martial urgency that reminds of Paracletus-era Deathspell Omega or the industrial-tinged pummel of Concrete Winds, stirs a twitching movement response, all while retaining a grinding death snarl and chromatic fury, leading its fused-by-hatred structures toward an explosive and fuming conclusion. Humanity has no place in the PISSGRAVE environs, and Malignant Worthlessness, in its celebration of a hostile world, does everything it can to reinforce that.

終末回路 // 終端から引き剥がす [February 20th, 2025 – Self Release]

For things that wander around the math rock world, nailing a vibe remains essential to enjoyment. It’s all too easy in this day and edge to fall into the comfortable trap of ambient tapping and comfortable posty swirls to pleasant crescendos that renders many modern acts to high brow background music (even including bands I like, to a degree, like Covet or Jizue). New Japanese act 終末回路,6 however, chooses to imbue their nimble and tricky instrumental center with the searing emotion and urgency of a noisy post-hardcore, with searing vocal inclusions adding a gravitas to passages that would otherwise threaten to flutter away in glee (“誤殖,” “知らねぇよ”). On one end, 終末回路 delivers a bright playfulness that swings with the pedal power and psychedelia of a young Tera Melos. Yet, weighted with a punk urgency and rawer Japanese assembly of tones, which give a physical clang to tight kit heads and blazing squeal to shrill loops and feedback, 終末回路 finds a constant momentum in their shorter form excursion that makes my lack of understanding of its introspective lyrics a non-issue. Packing plaintive piano melodies (“ご自由に “), speaker blowing synth cranking (“dgdf++be”), and prog-tinged guitar flutters (“知らねぇよ”) into one listening session isn’t easy, but with this debut outing of 終端から引き剥がす,7 終末回路 makes it seem as if they’ve been honing the craft for years.

Saunders’ Salacious Skeeves

Möuth // Gobal Warning [February 14th, 2025 – Self Release)

Veteran rockers The Hellacopters returned with a typically rollicking, fun album in February. Elsewhere, dropping with little fanfare, fellow Swedes and unsung power trio Möuth emerged with an intriguing debut rock platter, entitled Global Warning. Featuring more than meets the eye and flashing a dynamic rock sound, Möuth embrace both retro and modern influences, whipped into an infectious concoction of styles, ranging from Sabbathian lurches, doomy grooves, stoner vibes, and elements of psych, punk and hard rock. For the most part it works a treat, creating a welcome change of pace. Fuzzy, upbeat rockers (“Dirt,” “Appetite”) snugly reside amongst moody, psych-bending numbers (“Alike,” “Mantra”), and heavier doom-laden rock, such as powerful opener “Holy Ground,” and brooding, emotive album centerpiece, “Sheep.” Vocally, the passionate, Ozzy-esque croons hit the spot, matching up well to the band’s multi-pronged rock flavors. Compact and infectious, varied in delivery and featuring enough tasty rhythms, fuzzy melodies and rock punch to satisfy, Global Warning marks an intriguing starting point for these Swedish rockers.

Chaos Inception // Vengeance Evangel [February 21st, 2025 – Lavadome Productions]

Emerging from a deep slumber in the depths of the underground, Alabama’s long dormant death metal crew Chaos Inception returned with their first album since 2012’s The Abrogation. Third album Vengeance Evangel went under the radar, festering unclaimed in the promo sump. After the fact, the album’s crushing, controlled chaos smacked me upside the skull with a violent modern interpretation of the classic Floridian death metal sound, with the musty hues of Tucker-era Morbid Angel most prevalent. This is blast-riddled, relentless stuff, played expertly by the trio of Matt Barnes (guitars), Gray White (vocals) and session drummer Kevin Paradis (ex-Benighted). Incredibly dense, atmospheric, and blazingly fast, Vengeance Evangel is a brutal, knotty, technical hammering, punctuated by sick, wildly inventive soloing. While not traditionally catchy, Vengeance Evangel is the kind of intense, layered death metal album that gets under the skin, grafting a deeper impression across repeated listens. The insane tempo shifts, jigsaw arrangements, and wickedly deranged axework delivers big time. From the violent, intricate throes of opener “Artillery of Humwawa,” and disturbed soundscapes of “La Niebla en el Cementerio Etrusco,” through to the brutish grooves of ‘Thymos Beast,” and exotic, tech death shards of “Empire of Prevarication,” Vengeance Evangel does not neatly fit into any one subgenre category but ticks many boxes to cast a wide appeal to death fans of varied equations.

Steel Druhm’s Viscous Biscuits

Ereb Altor // Hälsingemörker [ February 7th, 2025 – Hammerheart Records]

Steel loves his epic metal. I was raised on the stirring odes to swordsmanship and ungovernable back hair from Manowar and Cirth Ungol, and in time, I took a place at the great table in Wotan’s Golden Halls to appreciate the Viking metal exploits of Bathory and later adherents like Falkenbach and Moonsorrow. Sweden’s Ereb Altor got in the game late with their epic By Honour debut in 2008, boasting a very Bathory-esque sound and emotional tapestry that felt larger-than-life and stirred the loins to begird themselves. 10th album Hälsingemörker is a glorious return to those halls of heroes and bravery. This is the large-scale songcraft first heard on Bathory albums like Hammerheart and Twilight of the Gods, and it’s most welcome to these ape ears. Cuts like “Valkyrian Fate” are exactly the kind of sweeping, epic numbers the band’s excelled at over the years. It takes the core sound of Viking era Bathory and builds outward to craft bombastic and heroic compositions that feel HUUUGE. It’s the kind of metal song that embiggens the soul and makes you want to take on a marauding horde by your lonesome and usurp all their battle booty. On “Hälsingemörker,” you get a fat dose of Moonsorrow worship, and elsewhere, Primordial is strongly referenced to very good effect. Hälsingemörker is easily the best Ereb Altor album in a while and the most in line with their beloved early sound. Strap on the sword and get after it!