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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

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

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!

Swans – Birthing Review

By Dear Hollow

It’s hard to keep up with Swans. Since 1982, Michael Gira and company have cranked out sixteen studio albums, eight EPs, and ten live albums (not to mention all the compilations and side projects), influencing underground stalwarts like Godspeed You! Black Emperor, Neurosis, Godflesh, and Napalm Death, as well as more mainstream acts like Nirvana and Tool. No genre was safe, as noise rock, no-wave, industrial, sludge, post-punk, and post-rock were impacted in the process – yet Swans have always had their own inimitable and uncategorizable sound. In Gira’s words, “Swans are majestic, beautiful-looking creatures – with really ugly temperaments.” Seventeenth studio album Birthing, a supposed end to the big sound of Gira’s millennial reformation, is an affirmation of both why some love them and why others stay far away. Maybe the real Swans were the friends we made along the way.

The path of Swans has been one of blending ugliness with a sheen of pristineness. They’ve had it all, from the ugly industrial sludge of Filth and Cop, the more regal industrial noise rock of Greed and Holy Money, the Gothic rock groovers of Children of God, the lush starkness of White Light from the Mouth of Infinity, the post-rock-imbued apocalyptic prophecies of The Great Annihilator and Soundtracks for the Blind, the trancelike 2010s comeback My Father Will Guide Me Up a Rope to the Sky, the formidably monolithic trilogy The Seer, To Be Kind, and The Glowing Man, to the minimalist folk-embedded Leaving Meaning and The Beggar. If you wanted to devote a week to the Swans discography, have at it. Or get into the process of Birthing.

In spite of its higher focus on more acoustic textures and Michael Gira’s wild baritone, Swans’ use of repetition is a tether to which their grasp of reality is consistently mutilated, interspersed with moments of sparse accessibility. Seven tracks and nearly two hours of content greet the ears with repetition both nauseating and hypnotic, tracks undeniably modern-era Swans: folkier, more acoustic and organic, and retaining that trademark longwindedness and industrial/noise barb, shifting from mood to mood with ease. You’ll hear painful dissonance, ritualistic passages of pounding percussion, Gira’s unnerving vocal lines, and synth-heavy crystalline atmosphere exchanged across mammoth runtimes. Especially in the first act, ugly stretches stitch together more uncanny valley passages of accessibility, like a synth rock jam session with pulsing basslines (“I Am a Tower”), beautiful piano ballads graced by spidery melodies and Jennifer Gira’s haunting vocals (“Birthing,” “Guardian Spirit”), catchy little choral “bum bums” (“The Merge”), and instrumental ambient swells (“The Healers,” “(Rope) Away”).

Gira and company find themselves in an odd predicament: in the shadow of their own influence. Swans has smartly focused on more acoustic and organic textures with their most recent releases, but in comparison to the 80’s and 90’s, and even the 2010s, Birthing cannot hold a candle. No one can do music like Swans, but it feels as though the trilogy of The Seer, To Be Kind, and The Glowing Man was Tsar Bomba, and every subsequent release has been the fallout. Likewise, the raining ash of Birthing is lethal, unnerving, and undeniably Swans, but it doesn’t feel as monumental. The only track that feels crucial is the absolute fever-dream “The Merge” in its wholehearted dive into the abyss. Each track features Swans-isms that sear themselves into your brain if you let them, but therein, very few moments justify why you should devote two hours to listening to them – especially if you are not a fan to begin with. Their focus has never been to be catchy, impress with riffs, or go wild with novelty – as such, the trademark tapestries of droning dissonance (“I Am a Tower,” “Guardian Spirit”), free jazz/industrial noise explosions (“The Merge”) are just difficult – aside from Swans’ inability to edit.

I may be Swans lone apologist at AMG HQ, and maybe I’m insane for it. Birthing is nowhere near the influence of its predecessors – while retaining that noise and industrial sneer throughout, it’s a far more gentle album than the ugly classics of the band’s heyday. However, it’s probably the best of its era, blending its bad temperament with its more post-rock atmospheres and semi-accessible passages that keep listeners this close to insanity. That being said, it’s still Swans. And a whole lot of Swans. Two hours of Swans. Yay/ugh.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Young God Records
Websites: swans.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/SwansOfficial
Releases Worldwide: May 30th, 2025

#2025 #35 #Ambient #AmericanMetal #Birthing #Experimental #ExperimentalAmbient #FreeJazz #Godflesh #GodspeedYouBlackEmperor #Industrial #May25 #NapalmDeath #Neurosis #Nirvana #NoWave #Noise #NoiseRock #NonMetal #PostRock #postPunk #Review #Reviews #SludgeMetal #Swans #Tool #YoungGodRecords

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

The Infinity Ring – Ataraxia Review

By Dolphin Whisperer

The heart of heavy metal music lives in attitude, one of extreme emotions—sadness, anger, exuberance, catharsis. And in increasing trend, modern practitioners often conjure that spirit through atmosphere, which allows metal-adjacent spaces like goth rock and darkwave to strike a chord with those who typically fall for weepy music of crying guitars and mournful vocals. New England-based The Infinity Ring harbors some of these dark sounds that attract lovers of the downtrodden—twangy and folky guitar refrains, post-rock-like swells in intensity and volume—all wrapped up in a smoky and gravel-filled vocal delivery. So even though Ataraxia isn’t metal,1 despite finding home in oft-metal label Profound Lore, its sorrowful swagger threatens to stimulate the same shout and simmer all the same.

With a gothic allure and a somber, neofolk-y expression, Ataraxia carves a path down weeping corridors with a stinging chamber folk ambience and swelling post-rock trajectory. Most importantly, though, The Infinity Ring’s narrative finds the comfort of low, crackling fire on a chilly night in the gravely mic antics of band leader and guitarist Cameron Moretti. His gruff croon and low distortion twang bring to mind the noir character of Nick Cave with the patience and weathered exhale of late Leonard Cohen works. And a sense of intimacy pervades his brooding incantations, with high gain recordings providing a crackle and tickle—a comfort similar to what some find in ASMR recordings. But though the timbre and dripping legato of Moretti’s poetry may wrap like a scratchy blanket on a cold night, its words often ring more harrowing and downcast.

Whether you fall prey to Moretti’s somber lull will still fall in line with whether the stripped and screaming chamber instrumentation provides an interesting enough base. From Ataraxia’s wistful introduction of violin swirling in post-crescendo denouement (“Obsidian”) to its close through the understated swell of fragile piano guidance and drowning string ambience (“The Archway”), the focus of hazy backings and hypnotic refrains drives the primary tether. It takes until the first drum rolls of “Elysium,” about ten minutes into the album, before a sense of classic swinging movement takes hold, and even the lilting rhythmic framework sways against a post-rock guitar gathering, distant clanging bells, and bowed crescendo. And while The Infinity Ring again finds this kind of tempo-pushing jog in “The Drum,” a majority of Ataraxia exists in a chamber-adjacent space that prizes the exploration of atmosphere and texture.

Yet, for an album that exists in this compositionally softer realm, Ataraxia plays less with intense dynamics and more with a focused loudness. As a vocal-forward affair, Moretti’s reverberating croons and scowls take center stage, their higher presence sitting above the fog of acoustic plonks and muted chamber underlays. Whether it’s against the plonky lead of piano (“Nightingale,” “The Archway”), across a Wovenhand-esque strum and kick and rim clack strut (“Hymn,” “The Drum”), or amidst a looping fuzz and minimalist progression (“Revenge,” “The Window”), bassy, breath-heavy murmurings ripple and pulse and pull along these distant soundscapes. Silence as a setup, like an inhale, still finds a place in the quiet-to-calamitous post-rock aura that The Infinity Ring wears at base. But also, like breath, a natural rise and fall defines Ataraxia’s pace, its closing message of “The Archway” embodying that swift, tidal tempo.

As a journey of serene discomfort, Ataraxia walks softly bug neglects to carry that big, bombastic stick. The Infinity Ring, sticking to a diverse sonic palette to achieve its moody goals, functions as a hard-to-quantify collective of unique and thought-out sounds. Walking in a long line of attitude-based artists like Lou Reed and Tom Waits, the path that The Infinity Ring has chosen is weird, entrancing, and, above all, rich with sonic delight. So with Ataraxia, the journey is the destination. And when the mood strikes, The Infinity Ring proves a hard act to ignore.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Profound Lore Records | Bandcamp
Websites: theinfinityring.bandcamp.com | instagram.com/theinfinityring
Releases Worldwide: March 21st, 2025

#2025 #35 #Ataraxia #ChamberMusic #Darkwave #GothicRock #LeonardCohen #LouReed #Mar25 #NickCave #PostRock #ProfoundLoreRecords #Review #Reviews #TheInfinityRing #Wovenhand

Rachel’s – Systems/Layers (2003, US)

Our next spotlight is on number 269 on The List, submitted by HerbT. This is the final album from Rachel’s, a post-classical/indie chamber project from Louisville, Kentucky started in 1991 by guitarist Jason Noble (formerly of post-hardcore band Rodan). The album was created in collaboration with a theatre company, SITI, for a production of the same name, the music born out of improvisational sessions where the musicians responded to what the actors were doing on stage. The result is breathtaking.

Want to read more? See the full spotlight on the Fediverse at @1001otheralbums.com or on the blog: 1001otheralbums.com/2025/05/08

Want to skip straight to the music? Here's the Bandcamp: rachels.bandcamp.com/album/sys

Happy listening!

1001 Other Albums · Rachel’s – Systems/Layers (2003, US)
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Keeping it dark on my Saturday CURE-A-THON.

Pound for pound, one of the three best Cure albums for me, and one I revisit fairly regularly.
“The Hanging Garden” definitely makes my Cure essential list. Give me only ten Cure songs til the end of days, that’s definitely one of them.

No rays of sunshine to be found here. Just Robert in full-tilt mope.
Stellar.
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What an astounding album! Lots of vast guitar soundscapes with a powerful drum foundation, building up and breaking down, breathing like it were living creatures. Masterfully played by Ted Flynn aka @tflynn and drummer Alan Takaoka, with a handful of select guests on piano, cello, and a few others, this is a soundtrack for a journey into the wide unknown. Beautiful!

‘61 Cygni’ by lostlemming:

lostlemming.bandcamp.com/album

#NowPlaying yet another record I somehow missed last year, 2024's 'A Distant, Violent Shudder' by Boston, Massachusetts' GLACIER. Heavy/beautiful instrumental post-metal or post rock. Strong Pelican or Isis vibes. Recommended.

glacierma.bandcamp.com/album/a

#PostRock #PostMetal #BostonBands #MassachusettsBands #Glacier @wendigo @HailsandAles @BlackenedGreen @rtw @umrk @Kitty

Last Leaf Down – Weight of Silence Review

By Killjoy

I imagine we all have our own personal keywords that snag our attention and interest. Marketers (and record labels) know this and try their best to capitalize on our weakness. The descriptor “dreamy shoegaze from the woods” doesn’t sound particularly like something one might look for on Angry Metal Guy, nevertheless, it was the deciding factor for me to fish Weight of Silence out of the promo bin. Last Leaf Down originally formed in Switzerland in 2003 as a “dark doom” metal band. Whatever that sounds like, we may never know because on their debut album Fake Lights in 2014 they had already veered into the shoegaze sphere. Now, coming off a long break since 2017’s Bright Wide Colder, Last Leaf Down offers a reinvigorated interpretation of this timeless genre.

Although I’m not so sure that the woodsy label fits, Weight of Silence is certainly dreamy. The serene, melancholic atmosphere strongly reminds of Slowdive. Last Leaf Down have been steadily adding more and more alt-rock to their original shoegaze formula, specifically the polished, moody alt-rock of Snow Patrol and The Fray. The pairing is a good one; the hazy allure of shoegaze and the reliable structure of alt-rock complement each other well. As might be expected, Weight of Silence is heavily reliant on the vocals, and Benjamin Schenk’s voice has a vulnerable timbre that gives the music a distinct character. He’s clearly been working to stretch his singing abilities further during the extended break, and, despite the occasional signs of strain, he sounds more confident compared to prior albums.

Weight of Silence seems designed to magnify rather than produce intense emotion. This is largely a function of the instrumentation’s stripped-back, minimalist nature. The guitar parts are usually simple and supportive (I was surprised that three guitarists are credited), with nary a keyboard or synthesizer to be heard. In some ways, this approach is refreshing, as it leaves plenty of room for Daniel Dorn’s bass lines to add subtle depth in “Cold Heart” and satisfying heft to the chorus of “Reach the Sun.” On the other hand, the guitars and drums seem relegated to primarily building atmosphere and supplementing Schenk’s vocals. I appreciate the instances when they can break free from the norm a bit, like the swirling post-rock guitar melodies in the ending of “The Ending”1 or the tom grooves in the second half of “Falling Sky.”

This probably explains why the closer I pay attention to Weight of Silence, the less invested I feel. It makes for a great companion while sitting at my desk late at night, catching up on work, but my focused listening time usually results in lukewarm enjoyment. The more upbeat songs with well-defined choruses are, understandably, more memorable (“Illusion,” “Mislead,” “Reach the Sun”), while others feel too repetitive, particularly in the lyric structure. Album opener “Silence” is the biggest offender of this, with some variation of the phrase “It feels like I’ve lost myself” comprising around half of its lyrics sheet. To Last Leaf Down’s credit, they have improved at self-editing. The shorter overall runtime helps the punchier moments retain their potency and ushers the less engaging parts along, making Weight of Silence far from the longest 42-minute record I’ve heard.

The best way I can sum up Weight of Silence is that it’s aggressively inoffensive. Like morning mist, it’s pretty, pleasant, and refreshing when the mood strikes, but also ultimately immaterial. It’s the strongest Last Leaf Down album to date, and I like the direction in which they are trending. Their blend of shoegaze, alt-rock, and post-rock makes for an agreeable musical palette. I wouldn’t mind hearing them revive the dark doom style that they purportedly used to play, as I think it could have real potential inside this framework. I encourage anyone who, like me, feels even slightly enticed by the phrase “dreamy shoegaze from the woods” to take a chance on Weight of Silence.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Lifeforce Records
Websites: lastleafdownlfr.bandcamp.com | lastleafdown.ch | facebook.com/lastleafdown
Releases Worldwide: April 11th, 2025

#2025 #30 #AltRock #Alternative #Apr25 #LastLeafDown #LifeforceRecords #NotMetal #PostRock #Review #Reviews #Shoegaze #Slowdive #SnowPatrol #SwissMetal #TheFray #WeightOfSilence