If there’s one thing slam does better than anyone else, it’s reveling in gore. This brutal mutation of graveyard-variety death metal is commonly home to horrifying pseudo-medical song and album titles, vile band names, and artwork to make a serial killer blush. Athenian butchers Embryectomy are a prime example. Third LP Vitriolic Baptism, adorned with illustrations of boiling babies and vats of entrails, boasts odes like “Chainsaw Symphysiotomy” and “Cranioclastic Infanticide.” Doubling down on the formula developed on previous efforts, Gluttonous Mastication of Embryonic Remnants and Flamethrower Ecdysis, the viscera-drenched trio promises seismic chugs and monstrous breakdowns tailor-made for the pit. Does Embryectomy’s brand of auditory carnage make good on the tantalizing promises of such disgusting imagery? After Vitriolic Baptism starts with some befuddling dungeon synth, opener “Progeny Shredder” confirms that Embryectomy drink smoothies of liquified human offal for fun. Some slam sounds like it has a bachelor’s degree, and some even has a master’s, but Embryectomy hasn’t even learned to read. This is pure, knuckle-dragging, Cro-Magnon era slam. Gurgling vocals bubble up from Kyriakos Destounis’s throat as if through a vat of congealed remains, kicking off the album in earnest with “Ecumenical Lobotomy.” Like a butcher patiently tenderizing a human face, Marinos Tountas utilizes predominantly slower tempos to deliver viciously threatening riffs and instill mortal terror in the form of breakdown after breakdown after breakdown. His relatively consistent pace leaves the album’s tempo shifts in drummer Jake Gamble’s capable hands. When he’s got the room to flex, like on “Sanctimonious Episcopicide” and “Cranioclastic Infanticide,” Gamble enacts some serious percussive violence, surging through double bass rolls and stalking through the back alleys of Vitriolic Baptism. Vitriolic Baptism by Embryectomy This strategy works well on initial spins, and album highlights “Newborn Martyrdom” and “Carbonized Genesis” continue to distinguish themselves long after familiarity sets in. The former sees Tountas launching some vicious triplets followed by a passage in 3/4, while the latter features my favorite sample1 and some of Gamble’s best kit work on Vitriolic Baptism. Repeated baptisms, however, reveal largely underwhelming riffcraft on the whole. Filthy and stankface-ready though they are, the lion’s share of Embryectomy’s riffs rely on that positively disgusting sound over raw musicianship. They often simply plod slowly up and down the scale with minimal variance. Things occasionally speed up for a dozen measures, but the more common shift is just a key change. For example, I had to double-check that “Ecumenical Lobotomy” wasn’t just recycling the same main riff from “Progeny Shredder.” Mitigating factors include enjoyable samples—Trailer Park Boys, Family Guy, Evil Dead—and a brisk playtime. Vitriolic Baptism clocks in just under 31 minutes, so its simplicity and consistency don’t kill an undue amount of momentum, and by the time “Carbonized Genesis” ends, I’m often still enamored with Embryectomy’s tone and energy over their compositions. My last criticism is of the noticeably squished production. “Vitriolic Baptism” and “Chainsaw Symphysiotomy” highlight this most, where bone-rattling bass drops shove the rest of the instruments into a corner; I can hear the rest of the music getting quieter to make room and then returning as the reverberations settle. It sounds like Vitriolic Baptism has a ceiling on its volume, and Embryectomy frequently crashes into it at the expense of sound quality. At the end of the day, though, we’re talking about slam, and Embryectomy plays decent slam. If I wanted masterful compositions and astounding musical arrangements, I’d dig for Tchaikovsky or something. I’m here—as I’m sure many of us are—for vocals like cinder blocks scraping together and guitars that chug with all the force of a hammer to the skull. Embryectomy isn’t breaking any new ground on Vitriolic Baptism, but their particular flavor of vomit-soaked slam does exactly what it’s supposed to do. Vitriolic Baptism won’t bring any new converts to the faith, but those whose appetites weren’t sated during this year’s Summer of Slam may find some late but choice morsels here. --- Rating: 2.5/5.0 DR: 4 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3 Label: Unique Leader Records Websites: Album Bandcamp | Facebook | Instagram Releases Worldwide: October 23rd, 2026 The post Embryectomy – Vitriolic Baptism Review appeared first on Angry Metal Guy.

It’s kind of wild that this is already the 10th anniversary of Victor Love’s Master Boot Record (MBR), with as many (if not more) full-length releases under the name. Across these 10 years, MBR has earned a cult following and carved out a rock-solid niche of floppy synth savagery, in tandem with his resplendent side-project Keygen Church, which preaches a biblical slice of digital blasphemy. Love sits atop this niche within the metal space, deservedly positioned as the premier provider of digitized metal. With this legacy in mind, Computer Metal posits a curious thesis statement. As Love tells it, Computer Metal aims to legitimize and encompass this titular genre, which various internet comments have colloquially referred to MBR in the past, and provide a codex, of sorts, of what this newly codified genre is and represents; simply put, in his words: “Humans do humans. Machines do machines.” For those uninitiated in The Code, MBR play instrumental, crazy-high-energy metal with a neoclassical edge in the vein of Dragonforce or Stratovarius, all with digitized instruments, warbling chiptunes and floppy synth drives. What stands out immediately and with blinding clarity about Computer Metal is the inclusion of real guitars. Now, guitars are no stranger to the MBR canon; they’ve long been a key component of live performances, and the previous album Hardwarez, which I adore, was the first studio album to begin using them.1 Even Keygen Church uses actual pianos in tandem with the floppy synths, and it rules. However, in Computer Metal the guitars are noticeably dominant, seizing sonic control over the great majority of the riffwork. As a fan it took some getting used to, but the important thing is whether or not the songwriting makes clever use of the contrasting instruments in a way that sells the premise of the album. Surprisingly, Computer Metal falters in this regard. Listen to “Voodoo2,” “Turbo Button,” “Dot Matrix” throw a dart at the tracklist and you’ll find the guitars and floppy synths lack ample space to shine next to or because of each other. Especially in “Voodoo2;” for all its heavy chugging, there’s so little distinction in character between the guitars and floppy synths to the point it becomes needlessly hard to differentiate them. However, the guitars aren’t the true crux of the issue with Computer Metal. Even if this was a traditional floppy-synth-only record, the songwriting on a basic level nevertheless feels less vivid, less vicious, resulting in slightly toothless songs across the board that are rarely able to truly excite. “Firmware” in particular is a miss for me, with weaker, repetitive riffwork bookended by misplaced metalcore chugs, as well as the forgettable “Socket 7” which keeps returning to this high-pitched, grating keyboard melody. Even “Boot Sector,” a “Stratosphere” style neoclassical shred song which, on paper, sounds like a slam fucking dunk in MBR’s hands, feels off. It never quite gets its feet off the ground and overstays its welcome just a touch. It is some genuinely good guitar work, though. Credit where it’s due, there is some solid material in Computer Metal. Honestly, there always is with Victor Love. He has a keen ear for some slick riffs and melodies, and Computer Metal is no exception. “Dot Matrix” tears out the gate with nice n’ meaty riffs, the melodies of “Command Prompt” ebb and flow into a thrilling climax, and “Plug and Play” is a game-soundtrack-type romp that’s fun and catchy. My personal favorite is “CRT,” which does make good use of the interplay between guitars and synths for a nice Khonsu-esque2 beat, and, together with the following “Ctrl + Alt + Del,” ends the album on a high note. But my point above still stands. Even the high points of Computer Metal aren’t terribly stimulating, inviting comparison to better works (Truthfully, “Dot Matrix” does feel a sliver like a weaker rehash of “CPU”) and rarely inspiring enthusiasm to start the album again once it’s finished. It’s strange that an album that purports to represent the legitimization of its appointed genre is a less effective example than the band’s own prior output. It’s also strange that the incorporation of live guitars feels like a misfire in Computer Metal when they worked so well in Hardwarez. It makes for an album that feels just a touch misaligned, like code that’s incorrectly phrased or what have you. But in the end, if you Praise The Code, then I surmise you’ll still find some fun within Computer Metal, I sure did despite my harping. 10 years and even more full-length albums in, not every new MBR release is going to blow your mind, and honestly that’s okay. --- Rating: Mixed Format Reviewed: mp3 | DR: 4 Label: Metal Blade Records Websites: Official | Bandcamp | The Code works in mysterious ways Releases Worldwide: October 30th, 2026 The post Master Boot Record – Computer Metal Review appeared first on Angry Metal Guy.

I wouldn’t say that I’m the type of person who usually needs to be in a particular setting to appreciate a given piece of music. Obviously, sometimes I’ll feel inclined to listen to something specific, but in general, if I like something, I like it anytime (and vice versa). However, doom metal, especially funeral doom, seems to be the exception for me, requiring the right state of mind to fully appreciate its stripped-back character. I happened to find myself in this state when selecting Grave Monolith, a funeral doom duo from Portland Oregon, for review. Their self-titled debut record releases on the eve of Halloween, which is the best time of year to be in the mood to brood. If you are one who is put off by the drawn-out, static nature of funeral doom, Grave Monolith may be the answer to your woes. While the core of Grave Monolith’s sound is a drawn-out funereal procession which takes cues from Evoken and Atramentus, a willingness to experiment with different tempos keeps things unpredictable. For instance, if you stick with the opening song “Abhorrent State of Bliss” for a few minutes, you’ll be treated to an upbeat organ-led section that veers close to prog rock and puts the fun in funeral doom. The prevailing atmosphere in Grave Monolith may be slow and spooky, but the guitars aren’t afraid to riff or solo here and there. In addition to the organ, various other instruments such as piano and cello are used to augment the emotional impact of these soulful dirges. Grave Monolith – Grave Monolith | MMR081 by GRAVE MONOLITH Grave Monolith’s greatest strength is surprising the listener with deviations from what would otherwise be standard crushing doom metal. This is exemplified in “Wounds of the Flesh, Scars of the Soul.” Funeral doom is not exactly known for having choruses, but this song has one, which is haunting to the point where it lingers in my mind after I’m done listening. As the song progresses, I’m surprised again by the manifestation of tremolo riffs, blast beats, and higher-pitched rasps. This supplementation of atmospheric black metal fits in with the somber doom metal better than I would have expected, and it’s satisfying when it intertwines with the final chorus. That said, I don’t mean to imply that Grave Monolith relies solely on novelty to maintain interest. Grave Monolith is methodically and tastefully paced in a way that causes its four lengthy tracks to glide by. The drum tempo in “Oblivion’s Thrall” unhurriedly weaves a web cocoon around me, leaving me to wait comfortably to be mentally consumed. The contrast between the gentle piano parts and the stifling doom is also gratifying, as is the contrast between the hopeful guitar melodies and the cavernous growls in “Hearts of Violence,” which reminds me slightly of Gloombound. There is an ambient section in the middle of “Abhorrent State of Bliss” that lasts too long, and the fadeout song outros are a bit of a letdown after all the painstaking songbuilding. Overall, though, Grave Monolith has an impressive grasp of long-form songwriting on their debut. I initially reached for Grave Monolith in keeping with the Halloween season, but found a record that I can continue to enjoy after the candy runs out. It was a wise decision to end after 45 minutes and four tracks, as one more of similar duration could have become too wearisome. The way that Grave Monolith can bend so many conventions of funeral doom while still preserving the core attributes of the genre is commendable. I look forward to hearing them continue to do so, which will hopefully include further integration of the blackened elements. If this is the starting point for Grave Monolith’s sound, I expect it to grow into something monstrously superb. --- Rating: 3.5/5.0 DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3 Label: Meuse Music Records Websites: gravemonolith.bandcamp.com | gravemonolith.com | facebook.com/GraveMonolith Releases Worldwide: October 30th, 2026 The post Grave Monolith – Grave Monolith Review appeared first on Angry Metal Guy.

We’re slowly, inexorably catching up to modern-day with these pieces! Now we tackle July, and before you know it, August will be here all over again. Time flies when we’re 3-6 months behind. Luckily, you are all such patient, supportive folks and never, ever make us feel rushed or pressured. Well done, you! Your rewards are many. See below. We all recall the upheaval and tumult that resulted when progressive death metal crew Nothingness’ 2023 release Supraliminal was awarded a measly 2.5. Well, the band got past this undignified slight, grew stronger, and returned with an even bigger, meaner platter of deathy splatter called Godslaughter [out July 31st on Everlasting Spew]. Nothingness still attempt to marry the inventive weirdness of acts like Gorguts with the bathtub bonesaw antics of Autopsy, and while that should never work, here it mostly does. The band aren’t afraid of long-form experimentation and pulling out all their progressive bona fides, but they also remember to pummel and brutalize the listener at regular intervals. This reckless ambition makes Godslaughter a wild and twisted ride. As Ferox aptly expressed, “Like its predecessor, Godslaughter leaves a rancid mouthfeel behind as it rants its way toward Listurnalia.” Get used to being with Nothingness. Runner(s) Up: Black Sites // For Eternity – Black Sites came back in July with another dose of 100% pure American heavy metal that straddles several sub-genres and picks and pulls from many influences from NWoBHM, prog, and alt-rock. For Eternity [out July 17th via self-release] is a case study in quality songcraft mattering more than the specific genre, as Mark Sugar and company drag the listener through a hodge-podge of eras and styles while keeping things lively and rocking. Nostalgia meets modern-day sounds in slick, inventive ways, and the hooks are plentiful. As Dolpin Whisperer adroitly summed up, “As the fifth step in the Black Sites journey, For Eternity strikes with finesse. And sticking to a tested and refined palette of hooky, hammering, and harmonious heavy metal, Sugar has delivered an experience that, while easy to digest, unfolds new layers with each successive listen.” Pour THIS Sugar on you! Todomal // Graveyards of Joy – The Spanish duo behind Todomal open up the classic doom sound to progressive ideas and experimentation on Graveyards of Joy [out July 3rd on Season of Mist]. In a genre usually bound to custom and tradition, Todomal fly free, incorporating whatever elements they feel best suit the music. Over the course of this sweeping platter, you will hear Goth influences alongside soft blues and even pop. One would think that would render Graveyards of Joy a mushy mess, but somehow Todomal hold everything together and deliver a stunning experience. As a well-impressed Owlswald gushed, “Graveyards of Joy pulls all of its many ingredients into a layered, multifaceted whole that grows more rewarding with every listen. TodoMal’s twist on doom may feel occasionally strange, but it’s insanely stylish and unmistakably their own.” Get your undead jollies in this here graveyard. The post Record(s) o’ the Month – July 2026 appeared first on Angry Metal Guy.

Enslaved is one of those bands that never sit still for very long. The occasional couple of albums could be described as being a pair, but then they introduce something new that changes everything. Yet, they are still undeniably Enslaved, with those signature Grutle rasps and Bjørnson’s songwriting style marrying black, progressive, and Viking in the most recognizable and unpredictable way. Now, after thirty-five years and sixteen full-length albums, these keepers of the old ways return with their seventeenth LP, Mið. Coming off the heels of the rewarding Heimdal, does this new slab of Norwegian lore have what it takes to keep the groove going? Or will it just be… Mid.1 According to the album’s one-pager, Bjørnson and crew took a different approach to the writing process for Mið. After tossing around ideas for a while, nothing was solidifying as a proper successor to the mighty Heimdal. So, they decided to strip everything away and hit the studio with very little prepared. If you don’t find that risky, remember that’s how we got Metallica’s St. Anger. Now, before you fucking attack me for even mentioning these two in the same review, hear me out. Any Enslaved fan knows their music is painstakingly calculated to deliver the correct flow and produce the intricate nooks and crannies that no ear can identify on a single spin. So, with my anxiety at its max, how will that fare? Mið by Enslaved Well enough, it seems—even if some decisions on the final product make Mið a jarring listen. Case in point: the transition between the itsy-bitsy, Bathory-esque instrumental opener and “I Am Ice.” After the opener soothes with gentle acoustic guitars and a reverberated lick, we are slammed into a distorted black metal charge with vehement rasps. As with most Enslaved songs, “I Am Ice” is three-dimensional, swapping rasps for cleans, Viking choirs, and low booms as the moods and transitions change. While a fairly standard Enslaved piece, the weirdest part comes after the midpoint, when the absurd keys noodle like a Spock’s Beard fever dream. By the way, prepare yourself for other keyboard-isms throughout that might catch you off guard. The back-to-back “Mountain” and “Spirit Helper” represent two of the album’s best tracks. “Mountain” opens with a similar acoustic vibe to “Non-Being” before the gorgeous clean vocals take over and ride it like a cloud. Layers soon form in this succulent croissant until everything changes forever. Dropping the melodic vibes, overcharged distortion thunders along with the choppy chuggery. Like the song’s first half, this heavier half also stacks layers before becoming completely unhinged. But “Spirit Helper” is an entirely different beast. With vocal assistance from a Montana-based educator of the Blackfeet Nation, “Spirit Helper” is an exploration of native culture and a masterclass on how to string together a song that gets more massive with every passing minute. This track is like nothing you’ve ever heard from Enslaved and proves the band truly has no boundaries. While not the strongest, “Parting” has a calming, twinkling atmosphere and powerful vocal delivery, while “Miðju” closes the album with a similar structure to “Mountain.” Unfortunately, they are too long for their own good. They have great moments, but they become trapped in repeat mode for half their runtime before finally breaking character and delivering something worthwhile. All in all, Mið is a solid album with dynamics just good enough to introduce something new with each spin. That said, it’s also a strange album. But it wouldn’t be Enslaved if it didn’t explore something new. I mean, remember when we went from Below the Lights to Isa? Mið is no Isa, but it can be appreciated similarly, flaws and all. --- Rating: 3.0/5.0 DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3 Label: Nuclear Blast Records Websites: enslaved.bandcamp.com | enslaved.no | facebook.com/enslaved Releases Worldwide: October 30th, 2026 The post Enslaved – Mið Review appeared first on Angry Metal Guy.

I never heard of Cryptorium before, but the promo spiel for sophomore album Through the Bowels of Ceaseless Dissonance (Bowels for short from here on) was intriguing enough to get me on board. Promising rough-n-ready Swedeath in the vein of Entombed and Dismember isn’t a new sales pitch, but when they also go out of their way to emphasize how raw, gritty, grimy, and unclean the album is, you have Steel’s full attention. And to their credit, Cryptorium are as good as their word, and Bowels lives up to its pretentious name. This is in-your-face, up-your-ass death metal with zero effort to be melodic. It’s messy, muddy, chaotic noise fit only for a rabid man-beast, and it’s served with a heaping helping of cesspool-level scuzz and scum. Is this what you need to wash down 40-plus minutes of excessive HM-2 pedal abuse? If so, you came to the right crypt emporium, chumbo. After a short, inappropriately gentle intro, you’d dumped in the industrial meat molester with the raging title track, and it will leave marks and lasting trauma. It sounds like Autopsy throwing up raw meat and Drano all over an Entombed promo only to have a young Carcass start doing unlicensed surgery on the revolting mess. If that makes you think you need this in your life, you’re a mighty sick little pupster. Jagged, razor-sharp riffs slice and slash in all directions, and the sheer amount of murky nastiness is unsettling. It’s still Swedeath, but right on the cusp of transmogrifying into something way nastier. The shitstorm this stirs up helps prepare you for the follow-up track “Malodor,” where things fly off in another unhealthy direction. This is the album highlight for yours truly, finding a near-perfect sweet spot between Swedeath, grind, slam, and OSDM that smashes everything in its path, then comes back around to grudge-hump the remains. There’s more than a little early Carcass in here, especially in the repellant and sickening vocals, which are like a garbage disposal arguing politics with a slimy abomination from some godforsaken Hell pit. If the abrasive riffs and ginormous grooves here don’t get you geeked up, you need a steady diet of military-grade Cryptworms. The grotesqueries endure on killer cuts like “Rivers of Celestial Blood,” and the especially vile “Revolting Obsession.” By the halfway point, you will have given up any hope of feeling clean again, because this shit gets deep quick. The vocals on “Concrete Interment” sound like outtakes from all the 28 Days movies (except the Sandra Bullock one), and it’s like the band found a new setting on their HM-2 pedals designed to destabilize steel bunkers. As fun as much of Bowels is, there are some issues that hold it back. Several tracks run too long, especially closer, “Consumed by the Eternal Rot.” When things are this nasty and vicious, brevity is the soul of wit, and too much of a brutal thing becomes…too much. There is also a degree of uniformity between tracks that can make it difficult to separate individual cuts from the gory paste caused by relentless sonic hammering. At 43 minutes, Bowels pushes the envelope of how much the listener can absorb and process. This is the kind of berserk death platter that would be better off in that 34-36 minute time frame. Another issue is how things devolve into a chaotic mush when too much is going on. At several points on the album, things almost become unlistenable. I love the frantic energy, but it goes a bit too far into blood mania. The album features vocals from recently deceased co-founding bassist Karl Arvidsson on several tracks. It appears that the band’s future may be uncertain in the wake of his passing, but his performance here is worthy of enshrinement in the death books. He and Fabian Larsen put on quite the vulgar display of death power, showcasing a vocal range from raw meat in a blender all the way to a hideous manster raging at the blood moon. The vocals make the album the pummeling force it is, and it’s a huge shame that Arvidsson is no longer with us. The riffing from Larsen and Ludvig Carman is savage, abusive, and uncivilized. They take the common HM-2 buzz to a new level of ear-grating torture, and I’m here for it. This is a band that believes in everything louder than everything else, and this thing feels like an endurance test at times, but a fun one. Cryptorium bring new life and energy to the tried-and-true Swedeath sound even as they try to blow it all up in a flurry of rage and hostility. Bowels isn’t perfect, and it has some glitches, but it will impress you with its sheer force and barbarism. I hope Cryptorium can survive the loss of Karl Arvidsson and go on to develop their uber-destructive sound. If you love your death metal unhinged and merciless, this will firm up your ham candle nicely. But are you tough enough to endure the Bowels?  --- Rating: 3.0/5.0 DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3 Label: Transcending Obscurity Websites: cryptorium-label.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/profile.php?id | instagram.com/cryptorium_swe Releases Worldwide: October 30th, 2026 The post Cryptorium – Through the Bowels of Ceaseless Dissonance Review appeared first on Angry Metal Guy.

Most heavy artists spend years toiling in the underground, releasing respectable works, before the planets align and elevate their latest record above the plebeian muck. Seattle trio Great Falls formed in 2010 from members of mathy weirdos Playing Enemy, but it wasn’t until their fourth full-length, Objects Without Pain (2023), that the group found a real audience. That album blended metalcore, noise rock, sludge metal, and a screamo ethos into a singular sound, and its harrowing portrait of divorce and personal collapse made it one of the year’s strongest releases.1 So I’m going into their newest record, The Bite That Grows Up, with high expectations, as it seems to continue the band’s commitment to rendering complex, unflinching emotional honesty in aural form. The question is whether lightning can strike twice, or whether Great Falls has already given us the best of its wreckage. On paper, Great Falls’ sound might seem like a grab bag of adjacent genre tags, but on The Bite That Grows Up, the trio’s immaculate chemistry lets these disparate elements gel perfectly as they unleash their unique brand of sonic devastation. Great Falls wields the narrative-focused, unnerving, sludged-out noise rock of Couch Slut, Coalesce-style mathcore bursts and explosions of cinematic, Neurosis-inspired post-metal riffs, all built around screamo’s sense of raw vulnerability. Guitarist/vocalist Demian Johnston and bassist Shane Mehling have been playing off-putting, heavy music together for over 25 years, and that relationship shows in the deftness with which they navigate these varied compositions. Johnston’s guitar oscillates between subdued, suspended arpeggios and full-on Thou heft, while Mehling pushes the undulating passages forward with a stankface-inducing bass tone that would make David Wm. Sims blush. Drummer Nick Parks (Bastard Feast, Gaytheist) proves just as versatile, laying down uneasy, off-kilter grooves in the quieter sections and acrobatic, octopus-armed flourishes as the intensity ramps up, locking in expertly while steering these expansive tunes. The band moves as one unit, milking each moment of slow-burn menace and frightening riff bombardment for maximum catharsis. The Bite That Grows Up by Great Falls The Bite That Grows Up sees Great Falls fully embraces a masterful dynamism, with most tracks lingering in sparse peril to heighten their eventual cacophony. Opener “A Small Weakness” lays out this dichotomy clearly, switching between skull-crushing, angular sludge and Unwound-esque clean pullbacks, all led by Johnston’s throat-shredding wails of poignant confession. The same formula drives the longer tracks, which pit long feedback swells (“Hailstone Numbers”), jazzy odd-meter verses (“Debt Ethics”) and rolling no wave loops (“Worse Than Sleep”) against stuttering metalcore detonations. Even on the shorter, early Converge-like rippers (“Pinned Against Time,” “Buildings Full of Rope”), Great Falls shows a keen sense of pacing and artistry within the chaos, so that every spastic guitar run and drum fill still serves the record’s natural flow. This intentionality keeps the album from growing stale. Each careful build magnifies the tension until it finally bursts, and there are enough layers buried in the wreckage to keep you coming back to peel them apart. Behind the musical chaos, Great Falls builds a rich thematic backbone through Johnston’s words and pained vocal delivery. The lyrics on The Bite That Grows Up were conceived as an intense, imagined group therapy session, and their personal confessions and tormented declarations perfectly mirror the record’s dark sonic landscape. Alongside more general outpourings of anguish, like “I’m sorry, I think I’m done, I’m not sure about this” (“A Small Weakness”), many of the lyrics center on the parental anxiety born from Johnston’s daughter running away from home. This surfaces in gut-wrenching lines like “Are we to blame? Is it nice where you are?” (“Worse Than Sleep”), but it comes to a head on closer “What No One Can Give.” Between chilling piano-led passages and pummeling noise rock, Johnston gives voice to his daughter’s perspective, “Father, please calm down, take your pills,” closing the album on a haunting, somber note. The Bite That Grows Up is the kind of record that reminds you what heavy music is capable of. Great Falls have crafted an intensely emotional journey through inner turmoil, one whose singular sound magnifies every ounce of its pain. They’ve taken screamo’s soul-searing, bare-chested honesty and weaponized it, armoring every confession with enough bludgeoning riffs and skronky nuance to silence any gatekeeper who still mistakes vulnerability for weakness. Lightning, it turns out, can strike twice, and this time it lands even closer to the bone, making for one of the year’s most viscerally disarming releases. --- Rating: Great! DR: N/A | Format Reviewed: Stream Label: Neurot Recordings Websites: greatfalls.bandcamp.com | instagram.com/greatfallsnoise Releases Worldwide: October 16th, 2026 The post Great Falls – The Bite That Grows Up Review appeared first on Angry Metal Guy.

The historic town of Wigan, England, has given the world the World Pie Eating Championship and the Wigan kebab. It has also given us Boss Keloid, the eclectic quartet that roared onto the scene with a smoked-out Angular Beef Lesson in 2010. Having emerged from the stoner scene, the now borderline jam band from Greater Manchester has since cooked up a sound entirely its own. Much like Primus, Boss Keloid occupies a peculiar niche where conventional genre tags fail. Melted on the Inch (2018) and Family the Smiling Thrush (2021) certainly made believers out of me and the now-retired Huck n’ Roll, with both records earning glowing praise. In fact, I’d place Family firmly among my favorite records of the past decade. I’ve still not heard anything quite like it, which meant the hype was real for Float & Aperture, their sixth full-length record. What strange new concoction would these quirky Brits cook up this time? Float & Aperture finds Boss Keloid softening their edges and broadening their palette without sacrificing the eccentricity that has always defined them. A more subdued affair than Melted and Family, but also a more nuanced and mature one, Float & Aperture retains the straight-up heavy rock underbelly of its predecessors while incorporating more hints of blues, funk, and psychedelic classic rock. “Breeze,” “Weight,” and “Pedestal” recall the bluegrass rock stylings of Big Wreck, while instances of Faith No More’s expressive dynamics (“Sanguine,” “Pedestal”), Tool’s shifting bass movements and a quick burst of Pinback’s indie rock (“Accord”) make their presence known in surprising ways. Paul Swarbrick’s quirky, wandering lead guitar lines remain the emulsifier of the group’s songwriting, snaking through every track as they twist, turn, and swirl around the metallic distortion, meaty bass and vibrant drums. Their presence makes Float & Aperture instantly recognizable as Boss Keloid, as does Alex Hurst’s powerful vibrato, which operates much the same way, splashing color, personality, and bombast across the album. Float & Aperture by Boss Keloid Boss Keloid continue to thrive on controlled chaos, piling seemingly incompatible ingredients and influences atop one another while somehow making every divergent piece lock into place. The opening three tracks are absurdly infectious, slowly digging their hooks in deeper with every listen. Bluesy guitar licks twang and wander over funky ghost notes (“Breeze”), psychedelic leads curl around filthy, flanged-out bass lines (“Landslide”) and lurching rhythms suddenly settle into irresistible grooves. “Pedestal” even finds room for Faith No More-esque falsetto theatrics, while “Accord” bakes psychedelic guitar melodies into intricate, Tool’ish bass work before exploding into a raucous rock climax. The individual instruments often seem to be pulling in entirely different directions, yet somehow Boss Keloid make these competing ideas coalesce into a seamless whole, a feat few bands can pull off with the same precision and aplomb. My gripes with Float & Aperture are few and mostly confined to the record’s production. The rhythm guitar sits inconsistently in the mix, at times feeling too subdued or buried beneath Swarbrick’s leads while sounding appropriately prominent elsewhere. As a result, some of the crescendoing choruses or dynamic bridges don’t hit with quite the force they should. This imbalance is particularly noticeable on “Accord” and “Sanguine,” where the plucky leads compete with the heavy riffing underneath rather than allowing it to fully land. Though the production as a whole may lack the punch and tightness of Family, its organic, almost live quality still sounds good, complementing Boss Keloid’s adventurous spirit. The quartet’s tendency to simply jam out can also wander a bit too far, with “Weight” boasting a midsection that contains some terrific grooves but takes too long to find its way back. Always looking forward and never back, Boss Keloid remain in a state of constant evolution, treating rock and metal as a playground where incompatible sounds, textures and ideas are free to wander and coexist. Float & Aperture is the next step in that evolution, pushing Boss Keloid deeper into the unique niche they’ve carved out over the years. Its many nuances take time to fully sink in, and although the record delivers much of its strongest material early and its production occasionally mutes some of its power, Float & Aperture is still a damn good record, albeit one that doesn’t quite reach the heights of Melted and Family. Nevertheless, it proves that Boss Keloid are still operating at the height of their craft and continuing to hone it with each release. --- Rating: Very Good DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3 Label: Church Road Records Websites: bosskeloid.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/bosskeloidband Releases Worldwide: October 23rd, 2026 The post Boss Keloid – Float & Aperture Review appeared first on Angry Metal Guy.

Something about the sulfurous pangs of black metal, entwined with thrash’s eminent riffcraft, sets my metal heart aflame. The subgenres roam between the cold, calculating ire of Immortal or late-80s Metallica and the impassioned pandemonium of 1349 or Exumer, and thoughtfully fusing the styles together can unleash mayhem of murderous magnitudes. Ghent collective Bokkerijders1 treads the line between genres somewhat unconventionally, putting a heavier emphasis on riffs culled from outside the typical blackened thrash inspirations. Formed in 2021, Bokkerijders released an eponymous demo in 2022 and EP Silver Dust and Swords of Gold in 2023 before planting their flag with debut LP Crush Kill Destroy. Does their conglomeration of black metal’s acerbity fashioned into mountains of riffs compel listeners to gush, thrill, and enjoy? Crush Kill Destroy teeters with the weight of the riffs scaffolding Bokkerijders’ songwriting. Summoning the likes of Bewitcher, Midnight, and Aura Noir, Bokkerijders weaponizes riffs that stick with ruthless efficiency. Where Bewitcher and Midnight wear Motörhead influences on their sleeves, Bokkerijders walks Slayer’s menacing warpath on tracks “Ashen Scream,” “Crush Kill Destroy,” and “Calcination Pyre.” South of Heaven and Seasons in the Abyss reverberate through these songs, yet Crush Kill Destroy lingers less in trad thrash than their blackened counterparts. One of the things that surprised me most is Bokkerijders’ calls to sludge-adjacent riffing via Mastodon and Baroness. The soaring lead midway through “Primordial Phosphorous Eclipse” might have come from Leviathan or Blood Mountain, closer “Fire Chaser” opens with a Crack the Skyeward riff, and “Locked in Gilded Chains Are the Guillotine’s Blade” echoes with notes heard from the house of Blue, albeit with more char. Crush Kill Destroy by Bokkerijders In addition to hemorrhaging riffs, Crush Kill Destroy imbues ample blackened causticity with an unexpected emphasis on pagan influences. Channeling the smoke and resin of sylvan mysticism, Bokkerijders conjures atmospheres of Rauhnåcht, Havukruunu, and Kampfar through contemplative, wheedling guitars. Riffslingers Jeffrey Andreka and Wouter Lemmens2 expertly maneuver between sticky melodies, zesty tremolos, and introspective riff patterns that extend beyond second wave influences. “Bokkerijders,” “Miracle Osmosis,” and “Primordial Phosphorous Eclipse” in particular invoke woodland spirits with sprightly guitar work that immediately reminded me of the aforementioned pagan-informed bands. Bassist/vocalist Laurens Oostrom nimbly reinforces songs with his grating barks and low-end countermelodies, loosed artfully while occupying a welcome space within the mix, and drummer Niels Verbeke gallops and crashes despite remaining mostly unobtrusive. Bokkerijders’ strength lies in their ability to navigate the variegated landscape that Crush Kill Destroy tromps through, wrangling diverse influences into rousing riffs. Where most of Bokkerijders’ benchmarks discharge wares in raw, blackened trim, these Belgians boast a beefy production that sounds professional and robust without feeling sterile or glossy. This gives immense power to the instrumentation, and considering the pivotal role that riffs play on Crush Kill Destroy, success hinges on their presence. Bokkerijders ably unites them all under one banner; however, upon repeated spins, I find a paucity of substance beneath the hooks. Though the album runs a reasonable forty-five minutes, individual track lengths spool out—especially on the back end. Of the last five tracks, only one clocks below the six-minute mark, and though no song bores or drags, I find that I lack the urge to keep Crush Kill Destroy in steady rotation. Ultimately, the glut of riffs and relatively expansive track lengths combine to undercut the potency of what a leaner, meaner album might afford. Bokkerijders supplies a resounding debut with Crush Kill Destroy, and it riffs and roars with brimstone and hellfire. Bringing together all these ingredients into a single dish with the finesse on display is no mean feat, and with a touch more compositional refinement Bokkerijders’ next outing might sink deep enough to escape extraction. Regardless, Crush Kill Destroy deserves some attention, and a presumed sophomore record will certainly garner my notice when the time comes. Until then I’ll keep my eyes on the skies, wary of horned little beasties bearing mischief and RIFFS. --- Rating: Good! DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3 Label: Personal Records Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook | Instagram Releases Worldwide: October 23rd, 2026 The post Bokkerijders – Crush Kill Destroy Review appeared first on Angry Metal Guy.

After ten long orbits of the Earth around the Sun, Hyperion has finally returned. Back in 2016, Seraphical Euphony made waves for its exceptional Dissection of Emperor, earning all but the highest honor here at AMG. Whether the test of time has deemed this an overrating, one thing is undeniable: Hyperion’s debut doesn’t shrink under the shadow of its mighty influences, offering melodic black metal uniquely ferocious, grandiose, and beautiful. With much hype, Elysia arrives, along with some new faces; Joel Hagroth (guitars) and Mauritz Flodin (drums/orchestrations) join Erik Molnar, Mikael Malm (guitars), Harry Lauraéus (vocals), and Raul Vincente (bass).1 Seraphical Euphony is an epic record, but its follow-up is epic, clocking in at a whopping 74 minutes. With great runtimes comes great responsibility—we shall see if Elysia conscientiously wields its extra twenty minutes and lives up to the Hyperion. The new players slot comfortably into Hyperion, which sounds like a bigger, bolder version of itself. In joining Molnar and Malm on guitars, Hagroth returns the band to its stunning triple-axe attack. With brighter, sharper tones than Seraphical Euphony, the guitar Cerberus of Elysia bites through savage blackened tremolos, chews on Opethian acoustic reprieves, and smiles with pure harmonized bliss, often in one song (“Fides Novem”). Vincente’s bass punches through the mix even more than on the debut, occasionally carrying a clang I’d expect in tech-death/thrash (“Perennial Transcendence”). Lauraéus’s harshes are as harrowing as ever, smoothing over tempo/key changes with his rough rasp.2 Flodin’s drum performance recalls that of Anders Peterson, though his subtle rhythmic fluctuations frequently enliven these blasty, thundering beasts (“Iliou Persis”). It’s Flodin’s orchestrations, however, in tandem with Molnar’s synthesizer programming, that truly distinguish the sophomore outing from its predecessor. Seraphical Euphony is epic—Elysia is cinematic. Elysia by Hyperion Elysia runs close to film length because it has a sprawling space yarn to unwind. In 3549, with humanity on the verge of intergalactic expansion, the religious dictatorship ruling Earth sends nine vessels on a colonial pilgrimage, but the universe itself has something to say about this adventurism.3 A “Rapturous Overture” kicks off the mission with orchestral bombast, segueing into a tantalizing trio of mid-length bangers. At the heart of the experience lies “Paraphrosynia”—a 12-minute monster that bursts In Flames with folky melodicism akin to The Jester Race—and “Perennial Transcendence”—a symphonic ass-beater à la At the Welkins at Dust. After an acoustic “Vigil of Longing,” Elysia ends mostly with epics. Here, orchestral instruments truly shine; the booming brass in “Epic of Tribulation” fuels soul-lifting triumphalism, while the skittering harpsichord in “Epoch’s Eventide” delightfully classicizes the song’s irresistible fretboard runs. Concluding the album with a dénouement swelling to goosepimple-inducing proportions, “The Primordial Wellspring” sends us off with an eerie string echoing over gentle chords, reminding me of another ending to a 70-minute epic: Parallax 2: Future Sequence (BTBAM). It’s an undertaking, but Elysia mostly thrills across its mammoth runtime. Every listen makes each song stickier, revealing new layers. Of course, Elysia contains flaws, and—of course—these flaws mostly relate to its length. For starters, the middle of the album does drag a little. The middle of “Paraphrosynia,” in fact, is Elysia’s draggiest moment, feeling less vital than its surrounding material. “Vigil of Longing” feels almost unnecessary. For an album with so many acoustic breaks, it’s questionable whether it needs a two-minute stand-alone acoustic track. Also, some transitions snag the ear. “Epic of Tribulation,” for one, makes prog-style modulations that sound more jarring than seamless. And finally, the album’s non-Lauraéus clean voices sometimes hit and sometimes miss. I love the battle choir on “Iliou Persis,”4 but the deep voiceover running throughout the album is too muffled. As a character in the narrative, it would be nice to discern a few key terms, at least. All of these, however, are minor issues that don’t detract from the overall experience. Coupling a great runtime with great quality, Hyperion have returned with a bang. Like finely crafted genre cinema, Elysia newly rewards with each engagement while offering melodic black metal enthusiasts exactly what they want. Fans may prefer Seraphical Euphony as the tighter, more digestible offering, but many will find its follow-up the better record, on account of its consistent execution of a grand design.5 Enough nitpicks coalesce to keep Elysia from excellence, but Hyperion clearly have the chops to scale that summit. Hopefully, we won’t have to wait until 3549 to get album three. All aboard the Hyperion train! --- Rating: 4.0/5.0 DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3 Label: Willowtip Records Websites: Official | Instagram | Facebook Releases Worldwide: November 6th, 2026 The post Hyperion – Elysia Review appeared first on Angry Metal Guy.

In recent years, October and November have been hotbeds of killer releases to close out the year before the notoriously dicey December/January schedule hits. It’s an exciting time of year for metalheads, as the inevitable excitement and controversies of list season also begin to take shape. What better time than to take a random dunk into the promo sump with ambitions to pull out the next big thing? San Francisco’s Absolute Darkness is an independent act, forming in 2016 and featuring a robust modern death/thrash sound. With several albums under their belts, Absolute Darkness unleash their latest platter, promising bigger and better things than what they have released before. Can the energetic, if unimaginatively named, four-piece capture something noteworthy to shake up the underground on fourth LP, Witness to a Dying World, or are they destined to lurk in the underground shadows? Sporting a polished, burly sound featuring modern death, thrash and groove elements, stitched together via tight, energetic performances and nods to Lamb of God, Sylosis, Vredehammer and classic Bay Area thrash, Absolute Darkness attack their aggressive and accessible formula confidently, and with plenty of zip, efficiently punching through the album’s ten tracks in a shade under forty minutes. Entering the fray via marching boots and swarming blasts, opener “Above the Law” channels Soilwork and Lamb of God, the impassioned, often politically motivated delivery, thrashy bursts, and dualling guitar work mostly hit the spot. Musically, Absolute Darkness do not offer anything particularly fresh or innovative, yet they know their way around their respective instruments and when firing on all cylinders, Witness to a Dying World features solid and occasionally inspired moments, without quite gelling into a truly gripping outing. Operating at their most interesting when tapping deeper into their thrashy roots, Absolute Darkness showcase glimpses of their thrashy, riff-centric potency (“Attritional Warfare,” “Different Illegally,” and a ripping modern interpretation of Vio-Lence’s ‘World in a World”). Along the way, Absolute Darkness never veer drastically off course; however, the songwriting quality fluctuates, with the speedy, thrash-focused material countered by energetic but more generic, disposable material (“I Guess I Die,” “Snake Oil”). Sharp guitars and bold tones lend a bright modern punch and slick edge, though it’s unnecessarily bricked and on the loud side. Cutting obtrusively through the mix is the intelligible growls and barks of vocalist/guitarist Ron Dorn. Herein lies one of Witness to a Dying World’s lingering issues, at least from this listener’s perspective. Dorn’s vocals form a polarizing mouthpiece. Not sure whether certain effects have been added or not, but the odd-sounding delivery can come across as awkward and artificial. How much of an issue this is will vary from listener to listener, while certain aspects are more convincing and less distracting. Nevertheless, it is a contentious vocal performance, worth noting. Elsewhere, the rhythm section delivers a groovy, rhythmic crunch and enlivened drumming sets the pulse; however, the album’s biggest strengths sit with guitarists Dorn and Douglas Vetter. Although the songwriting lacks consistency and memorability to land a heftier blow, the duo put their best foot forward to spark Absolute Darkness. Colliding death, thrash, groove, and melodeath influences duke it out with rugged riffs, dashing harmonies, and well-executed ’80s thrash-inspired soloing, resulting in the album’s most entertaining moments. Overall, Absolute Darkness don’t do anything especially wrong or offensive on their fourth platter. Witness to a Dying World features a competent modern metal crunch and a handful of noteworthy riffs, quality musicianship, and songwriting moments to keep it afloat and provide mild enjoyment in the moment. Talent and potential are obvious from the dialed-in performances and hints of stronger songwriting values, overshadowed by the album’s more generic aspects, divisive vocals, and songs that struggle to penetrate the memory bank or demand urges to return once the album fades. Mileage will vary, and enough evidence resides to suggest Absolute Darkness have it in them to write something more noteworthy down the track. Until then, Witness to a Dying World is a competent, mildly entertaining, yet ultimately a mixed bag offering.  --- Rating: 2.5/5.0 DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3 Label: Self-released Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook Releases Worldwide: October 23rd, 2026 The post Absolute Darkness – Witness to a Dying World Review appeared first on Angry Metal Guy.

Trolldom bring the idea of “taking your time” to extremity, having apparently been incepted in 2004 yet waiting just under 20 years to release their debut albums in 2022. Yes, “albums” plural: two LPs dropped on the same day whose combined duration of around 90 minutes could charitably be said to make up for the extended silence beforehand. Perhaps the reason it took so long is that Trolldom’s only member, Swartadauþuz, is in approximately 30 different musical acts—around half of which are also solo gigs—and even the mystic black metal powers of darkness and other worlds have their limit when it comes to the pace at which one can release music.1 He’s joined by session musicians for drums, vocals, bass, and MOAR keyboard who help realise this next venture. Luckily, fans didn’t have to wait another two decades to hear Tronen, but what does this recent increase in activity signify, and is it worth the wait at all? Trolldom continues to play a synth-heavy brand of meloblack following the path that originated with the likes of Emperor, specifically down the branch also occupied by Inherits the Void, Uada, and Frozen Dawn. It’s trve second-wave, but the overtly positive, almost light-hearted feel lifts Tronen out of the misanthropies of yore to something less harsh; the production is also much better. Upbeat tempos lead zigzagging tremolos up and down scales, accompanied by the roaring ‘yahhhhhh’s of classical black wave screams. Synths often take the lead melody, with guitars shadowing or supporting, but otherwise fill most of the space with a familiar warm shimmer. Even when going all-out, the music is measured and endearingly straightforward—the kind of thing that any fan of the style could throw on to satisfy a general craving for it. But this reliability of Tronen’s can easily turn from a boon to a blight. Tronen by Trolldom Tronen contains plenty of riffs, but without varied or strong melodies, they start to feel empty. This is a problem for a melodic black metal album, where riffs stand or fall on the calibre and memorability of the airs they carry. One doesn’t need to reinvent the wheel, but there must be a degree of forward momentum generated by the combined speeds of guitar and drums. Trolldom start in a good position in this regard, opening duo “Tidens Evighet” and “Dräpt ur Dunkel” featuring dopamine-charged interplays of chiming synths and exuberant chord progressions as their central refrains, with the latter branching into a nice bit of atmospheric development with subtly resonant plucks and a tremolo fade-in. Both showcase the record’s most dynamic drumming and engagingly powerful vocal performances, and if things ended after the intro to track three, “I Völvans Spår,” I would only have positive things to say. But the album progresses, and as it does, the sense that Trolldom is recycling and repackaging the same few good tricks grows. While there follow fragments of that earlier brilliance—like nice drum fills (“Etter Falla…”) and clever layering of synth and tremolos to deepen an urgent melody (“Dödens Släkled Stiga”) it gets harder to appreciate them. There are only so many times one can hear the same scale repetition—perhaps shifted a note or so in either direction—for song after song (“Etter Falla…,” “Ulvarnas Kall,” “Dödens Släkled Stiga”) without losing interest. Trolldom otherwise embellish their music with such palpable atmosphere and evident care that the safety with which they literally play things in the melody department is even more aggravating. Sporting a respectably high dynamic range and a balanced mix, the synths, screams, drums, and guitars of all pitches sound crisp and full, giving things the balance between sparkly and savage that synth-heavy meloblack needs. The vocal performance—courtesy of Thorn—is appropriately savage and melodramatic, with plenty of satisfyingly drawn-out screams (“Dräpt ur Dunkel,” “Dödens Släkled Stiga”), the use of keys expands the soundscape rather than cheapens it, and the percussion is—for the most part—animated and interesting. It’s well-made black metal, but it lacks distinction. In small doses, particularly if of its greatest aspects, Tronen has the qualities of great meloblack. Maybe if I were in a particularly good mood, or if I hadn’t heard so much other black metal prior to now, it would appear to blaze brighter and hit harder than it does. Alas, Trolldom seems to be the result of a creative mind spread far too thin; trve and well-executed as it is. --- Rating: Mixed DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3 Label: Debemur Morti Productions Website: Bandcamp Releases Worldwide: October 30th, 2026 The post Trolldom – Tronen Review appeared first on Angry Metal Guy.

The original mega-kvlt and trve metal act, Cirith Ungol are a lot like the evil demigod, Sauron. They both had mysterious beginnings before erupting onto the scene to create a lasting legacy. And both simply refuse to die and stay dead. After 3 iconic albums in the 80s, these mystical heavy metal maestros took a long hiatus, only to reappear 5 years later with fourth album, Paradise Lost. That would spell the end of the original run, with them soon breaking up, seemingly for good. But as Sauron’s eye rose to the sky 3000 years after his “death,” Cirith Ungol exploded from the void 19 years after disbanding with 2020s Forever Black. And what a welcome return it was, with their sound and style largely intact and the material heavy and maurading. 2023’s Dark Parade kept the war party in the field with another high-quality outing that proved Cirith Ungol was still a potent beast on a second career tear. Sadly, in 2024 the band announced they would be performing their final shows and calling it a day. It seemed the standard bearers of trve metal had finally come full circle and all their tales were told. 2 years on, however, Cirith Ungol come back from the grave once again with All the Shadows, albeit without either founding axe Gregory G. Lindstrom or longtime guitarist Jimmy Barraza. Why won’t these grizzled vets stay dead? We have no answers. Will you be glad to have them back? That we can address. As a major Ungol head since my teams, I rejoiced muchly when word reached me that we were getting another album. The opening title track gave me even more reason ot celebrate, as it’s 100% pure Ungolcore as heavy and mighty as anything they ever conjured. One-of-a-kind frontman Tim Baker still sounds unbelievably powerful, his odd but awesome vocals still oozing with grit, grease, and pork byproduct. This is exactly the kind of classic metal war march I crave from these guys and it hits like a runaway siege engine full of dragonfire. “Shallow Reflection” goes back to Ungol’s doomy roots and borrows more than a little from classic Black Sabbath to craft a brooding slab of trve doom fury. Baker’s insane bellowing here is worth the price of the album, and this is the big dose of classic metal glory that all posers need in their feeble lives. “Empty Tomb” is even more like vintage Ungol. This one could have appeared on their legendary King of the Dead opus and fit in like a dagger through the ribs. It’s a thing of ugly beauty. Also of note is the 7-plus-minute “On Broken Wings,” which is like an old school trve doom ballad that finds Tim Baker singing cleanly and softly in a way he rarely does. Soon it’s back to his signature “pig monster in pain” bellowing, and the transition from soft to oink makes his excessive over-the-topness feel even more impactful. Unfortunately, there are some bumpy moments scattered across All the Shadows. While “This Mortal Stain” is solid with cool moments and contains some of Baker’s most insane vocals ever, the song never fully gets on track. “Turning Blind” is heavy but clunky and awkward and feels half-baked. At just under 41 minutes, it feels like the band struggled somewhat to piece together an album as massive as their last few. I’m happy to get the good stuff, but there’s more chaff with the wheat this time. The core of the Cirith Ungol sound has always been the oddball vocal attack from Tim Baker. Despite being 70 years of age, the man still sounds like the real monster lurking behind the Minotaur in the maze. His massive, raspy bellows are the stuff of legend, and his kinda-sorta pig squeal is as freaky as it was in the early 80s. He brings life to the best stuff here and keeps the lesser bits from completely face-planting. He’s a special talent. The absence of both Gregory G. Lindstrom and Jimmy Barraza definitely took a toll on the writing and, to an extent, the classic sound palette of Cirith Ungol. While it’s clear the band took pains to get new slinger Armand Anthony (Night Demon, ex-Gygax) to fit his playing into the classic Ungol style, there are moments where things feel more like a copy than the real Magilla. I’ll be a die-hard Cirith Trooper until the end of time and I still spin their classic albums regularly. There was never a band quite like them, and that always made them feel extra special. I want to like All the Shadows more than I do, but shortcomings aside, it’s still a solid addition to their mighty catalog with some potent Ungol chunks amid the Cirith slurry. If you’re new to the band, this might not be the best place to start, but fans should find plenty to love. May Cirith Ungol live forever. The world needs them.  --- Rating: 3.0/5.0 DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3 Label: No Remorse Websites: cirithungolofficial.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/cirithungolofficial | instagram.com/cirithungolband Releases Worldwide: October 30th, 2026 The post Cirith Ungol – All the Shadows Review appeared first on Angry Metal Guy.

Anagnorisis nearly didn’t return, as the material for Caregriever (and the album title) was originally conceived as a solo project for frontman Zachery Kerr. Created to grapple with the grief of caring for his father-in-law over five years up until his death, the aptly titled Caregriever is the band’s first new record in a decade. As the scope of the solo material blew up, Kerr shared it with his old bandmates, and their latest was born. With a decade behind the band and music originally conceived for another project, is Anagnorisis’s return worthy of its emotional inspirations or a miasma of ideas and execution? Time has not dulled the Louisville, Kentucky-based Anagnorisis’s skills in the slightest. Caregriever tugs at your emotions like the clawing hands of the River Styx, and our Charon on this journey is frontman Zachery Kerr. His acid-burned, throaty howls elevate the poignant lyrics to a fever pitch, leading to emotional climaxes at every turn. When “Choke” opens up in the back half and he screams, “IT’S YOUR FUCKING FAULT,” as the band drops into all-out frenzy, you know Anagnorisis are back. Cody McCoy’s drumming may be the highlight; his impactful playing is natural while still carrying an incredible sense of rhythm even at top speed. “Nothing Left To Give” displays his meaty fills and battering snare, but he is a force across the album. Zak Denham and Kerr fill Caregriever with memorable guitar playing that dips outside the typical black-and post-black range the band is known for. This record is faster, meaner, and dripping with vitriol and bittersweet love in equal parts. Punk asides, riffs like chasms, and alluring solos pepper Caregriever. Josh Mumford’s bass is the only victim here. While the production is phenomenal throughout, it is frequently lost in the cacophony of Kerr’s screeching vocals, McCoy’s battering drums, and the dual-guitar assault. When the bass does peek through, it is weighty and twangy, exactly as it should be. This isn’t an issue with the production; it is more like too many good elements fighting for your attention at any given time. Caregriever by Anagnorisis Caregriever never lets up or wastes time, and even when it slows down, the record offers interesting tangents and rich atmosphere. “Death of Man” features a thrumming bassline, samples, and industrial music as Kerr rasps through the entire track. “Death of Men” brings back the post-black metal sound that Anagnorisis is known for while mixing in blackened punk. “A Living Grave” features the record’s only clean singing, tastefully weaving the melody with a plucky post-metal throughline. For a record just over forty minutes, there is an astounding amount of variety. Every track belongs, and the band isn’t a strict adherent to structure in all the right ways. Caregriever is a record that is rich on every level. The playing is top-tier, creativity abounds, and the lyrics are heart-wrenching. The worst I can say is I would have liked to hear a little more bass in the mix, and the album could actually gain a song, as it is a bit heavy on atmospherics in the middle. These are nitpicks in the grand scheme of things, and Anagnorisis shows that they are more than capable of one of the best comebacks I never knew I needed. Caregriever smartly slices the fat from previous records, and in the transfer of Kerr’s solo material to a full record for the band, they have their best work to date. Caregriever is a tightly played, carefully crafted, and passionately conceived record that will stand the test of time. I can’t wait to see what Anagnorisis does next with this newfound creative drive, because Caregriever sounds like a young band’s debut, not one from an act off a decade-long hiatus. If you love White Ward, Ashbringer, and Bosse-de-Nage, Anagnorisis is likely already on your list; if not, Caregriever makes a case for one of the best black metal records of the year. Bring a box of tissues, but be ready to fling snot everywhere as you headbang through the hauntingly beautiful hellscape of Caregriever. --- Rating: 4.5/5.0 DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3 Label: Bölverk Collective Websites: Bandcamp | Instagram Releases Worldwide: October 23rd, 2026 The post Anagnorisis – Caregriever Review appeared first on Angry Metal Guy.

Last year, Sarcator flew under the radar with a pretty rad platter. On the heels of their mixed sophomore outing, 2025’s Swarming Angels & Flies served up delectable blackened thrash with necrotic notes and refreshing traditional/surf-rock side dishes. A year later, I’m surprised to see them already plating The Ones We Follow. Also surprising was word that this Swedish trio has all but abandoned thrash on album four, adopting a flavor profile they don with a curious descriptor: ‘death’s rock.’ Skepticism-inducing as any major sonic shift should be, the rock elements of Swarming Angels & Flies did elevate my excitement over Sarcator’s riffy brand of thrash with the crispy skin. In turning this element into the main course, I’m left wondering if these young Swedes returned to the kitchen prematurely. Despite the generic shift, Sarcator still retain the unhinged aggression characterizing their blackened thrash menu. Indeed, guitarist/vocalist Mateo Tervonen belts an acerbic ‘owww!’ on opener “The Ones We Follow,” with drummer Jesper Rosén speeding between kit pieces underneath. It’s the guitar work, however, that distinguishes old from new Sarcator. Rather than relying on syncopated palm mutes and serpentine riffs, Tervonen and Leo Buchalle favor twangy licks and careening power chords. The solos also affirm this new, ‘classic’ approach, adding bluesy soul into the mix. Almost rockabilly in nature, it’s as if Hellripper collided with Shadowy Men on a Shadowy Planet. As the record progresses, Sarcator introduce a host of country western elements—slide guitar, harmonica, the occasional snake rattle—with big Wayfarer1 energy (“Volatile Insight,” “Ain’t Fit to Live”). These country western-isms might imply a seismic shift, but it’s not as if Sarcator sound like a completely different band. The sandwich is now (western-tinged) rock, but its wrapper is still youthful, abrasive, and—yes—blackened. Sarcator build this batch of tunes atop time-tested chord progressions, with Tervonen’s vocals tasked with cutting through the listener’s palette. For the most part, he delivers. The choruses on “In Search of Oblivion” and “Volatile Insight” hit the sweet spot between attitude and stickiness through deliberate spacing and cadence. Tervonen’s tongue trills are tantalizing, becoming a bit of a signature throughout. Not every song, however, strikes a salutary balance. “The Underground Streets” could pay off its guitar earworm with a stronger vocal hook, while “Bleeding Ages” is in need of memorability. Penultimate country rocker “Wasteland Strider” tosses a vocal curveball, containing clean singing before it gets death n’ rolling. It’s a jarring change that, while well executed, feels a little like variety for variety’s sake this late in the album. Production-wise, Tervonen’s voice is a bit more prominent in the mix than I’d like, at the expense of melodic support from the bass.2 But overall, The Ones We Follow sounds open and punchy, with Tervonen’s voice commanding deserved attention. While not their longest meal, The Ones We Follow pits a girthy album length against a mostly immediate vibe. Shorter songs like “The Ones We Follow” and “You Gotta Possess Me” kill it, kicking in the door with controlled chaos. The clash between immediacy and girth, however, reveals itself mostly in the album’s epics. Seven-minute centerpiece “Rotting Chapels” implies scope with its key-changing buildup, but it ends up sounding like a longer version of the abrasive surf rock heard earlier. Meanwhile, closer “Wanderlust” epitomizes its title, wandering from mid-paced cowboy bumps to “Hot for Teacher”-style fretboard gymnastics and harmonica-sweetened blues dirt. It’s highly entertaining stuff, skirting the line between jamming and riff salad-ing. The album’s 50 minutes may look long on paper, but there’s enough head-turning developments to keep things interesting. The Dire Straits-y ending to “Rotting Chapels” comes to mind, as does the brush-fueled gallop in “Bleeding Ages.” Leaving me a little hungry at first, The Ones We Follow ultimately won me over with its blackening of a more rustic protein. I applaud Sarcator for daring to change, and there’s lots of tasty stuff on here, with nothing off-putting. Still, The Ones We Follow could elevate its addictive attitude and classic songwriting with more vocal hooks and judicious editing. What crystal clear, however, is that the members of Sarcator are having a hell of a lot of fun here, rocking out and experimenting in equal measure. I’ll continue following these Swedes in the future, as they show signs of following The Ones We Follow with something seriously sumptuous. --- Rating: 3.0/5.0 DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3 Label: Reigning Phoenix Music Websites: Bandcamp | Instagram | Facebook Releases Worldwide: October 30th, 2026 The post Sarcator – The Ones We Follow Review appeared first on Angry Metal Guy.

Behold the war horns of Polish blackened death veterans Neolith in the opening bars of their sixth album’s title track “Inbir” and know that a war of a cold and ancient breed is upon you. Indeed, Inbir takes its name from the ancient Sumerian word for war, continuing the Polish band’s thirty-plus-year fascination with Bronze Age Mesopotamia. It’s been seven years since their last album dropped and longer since they’ve last graced this blog, but this mononymic quintet of vocalist Levi, guitarists Conrad and Zi’aR, bassist Kriss, and drummer Semuss are not content with coasting off past success and legacy. Instead, Neolith call Inbir their “most ambitious, complex, and polished work to date.” But all bands says that about their new album eventually. It’s inevitable. Does Neolith’s proclamation ring true, or are they closer to the boasts of King Ozymandias? Neolith holds Inbir as their most ambitious record, but it’s nonetheless remarkably tight and lively. Though influences of Behemoth’s regal take on blackened death and Nile’s hostile exploration of Antiquity are certainly there, Neolith doesn’t reach for the aforementioned bands’ bombast but hits the warpath running. Inbir seethes with speedy aggression and writhes with shifting blast beats and classic death riffs, hitting especially hard on early cuts “Ashur Has Given Me a Brother” and “The Dawn Is Waking.” Neolith cover a lot of ground with not many different parts and in not much time, fleshing out songs like “Inbir” and “Morte” with a few basic riff shapes played with just enough variation while standing pat to lean 4-6 minute runtimes. Add as many sick solos, slick drum licks, and heaving growls as Inbir has, and that’s a recipe for a good time. Inbir isn’t shaking up the world, but anyone who can see the appeal of spinning donuts in your battle chariot and shotgunning pillaged temple wines should be down with Neolith’s business. Inbir by NEOLITH Inbir maintains a potent atmosphere; that’s not because of any reverb or pedal effects but because Neolith make it so by sheer malevolence. Besides the brief bookending synths on “Modlitwa na Marny Czas,”1 Neolith embody an engrossingly sinister spirit the old-fashioned way, with unrelenting energy and minor-key miscreancy. Hear the blackened ringing chords in “Of All the Gods,” the pugnacious kick patterns on “Ouroboros”‘s back end, the death march rhythms of “Morte,” or the comically numerous number of pinch harmonics skewering the soundscape, and know that Inbir is war. Organic-sounding drums and a delightfully gravelly bass tone that doesn’t come through the mix nearly enough (“Ashur Has Given Me a Brother”) lend Neolith a strong foundation for their attack. Conrad’s frequent chromatic solos and his dive-bomb shenanigans also do a lot to build a chaotic, violent atmosphere. It’s not hard to get wrapped up in Inbir. Variety is where Inbir survives; its absence is also where Inbir falters. To reiterate, Neolith make a lot out of a little on Inbir riff-wise. There’s a sneaky melodicism to “Modlitwa na Marny Czas,” while “Of All the Gods” uses more sustained chords than usual and offers the briefest of breathing room. What really surprised me was how varied Conrad’s solos are on Inbir, shifting between Slayer-informed chromatic tomfoolery and classic shredding and melodic runs, sometimes in the same song (“Ashur Has Given Me a Brother,” “Morte”). But Neolith’s tricks do run thin by the end of Inbir, and the two-song run of “Ouroboros” and “The Four Etemmū of Kurnugi” sees the bloodlust cool a bit. Neither are bad songs, but feel somewhat by-the-numbers for blackened death and only pick up in their bridges. Similarly, Levi’s vocals are powerful and commanding but also very one-dimensional, limiting Neolith’s capacity for strong vocal hooks.2 This doesn’t drastically hamper Inbir’s enjoyability, but it does somewhat dampen its memorability. Inbir is plenty of fun, and Neolith nail the fundamentals of quality black/death metal the way a veteran band should. My few gripes aside, there are more than enough sharp riffs and pulverizing passages on Inbir to keep you sickos happy. I’m sure some of you will accuse me of underrating this. If so, I get it, but for me Inbir lacks the Wow Factor that would push it up the extra peg. But if you’re looking for a heavy, hostile trip into the war-torn deserts of time immemorial, Neolith aren’t a bad group to take you there. --- Rating: Good DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps MP3 Label: Deformeathing Production Websites: facebook.com/neolith | neolith.bandcamp.com Releases Worldwide: September 12th, 2026 The post Neolith – Inbir Review appeared first on Angry Metal Guy.

In the Rush documentary Beyond the Lighted Stage,1 Jack Black describes musicians’ wells of creative juices as ‘rocket sauce.’ He notes that some musicians and bands only muster enough for one BIG album, while others seem to run on an endless supply.2 This description stuck with me through the years, and remains my go-to reference when someone gilds whatever they touch. Kraków vocalist Maciej Proficz is one such individual, and both his active projects Dormant Ordeal and Cursebinder run on vast reserves of rocket sauce while offering multifaceted interpretations of their respective genres. Dormant Ordeal’s Tooth and Nail landed at the #3 spot in last year’s Aggregated List; third album The Grand Scheme of Things received a glowing review from Dr. Wvrm and appeared on several 2021 end-of-year lists despite a late December release, and Cursebinder’s debut Drifting found itself atop Carcharodon’s Top Ten(ish) of 2023. Such accolades can’t guarantee future triumphs, but they can send expectations into the stratosphere—does Cursebinder’s sophomore album Psychohazard harness the rocket sauce to send us there? Though Cursebinder operates under the black metal umbrella, no single genre encapsulates Psychohazard’s breadth. In his write-up of Drifting, Carcharodon cites doom, death, and post-metal as descriptors for Cursebinder’s chameleonic character. Instead of using camouflage in a way that makes Psychohazard difficult to absorb or engage with, though, this Polish quartet employs it to disguise barriers between genres and inculcate an atmosphere both familiar and unique. Compared to Drifting, Psychohazard submits more direct applications of riffs (“Saturnine Rage,” “Prayers for the Living, Flowers for the Dead”) and synths (“Limits”), and where Drifting’s genre-hopping evinced distinct moods with thoughtful transitions, Psychohazard blurs lines together with subtler craft.3 Psychohazard’s first four tracks flow together in a sublime strand that ricochets between textured aggression (“Death Season”) and gentler grooves (“The Astronaut”), culminating in a rabid fusion that seethes with angst and catharsis (“Saturnine Rage”). Honestly, this track would make a resounding closer, and to use it at Psychohazard’s midpoint illustrates the puissance of Cursebinder’s surrounding material. Psychohazard by Cursebinder Merging these sounds into a unified platter requires keen grace, and to then layer in the emotional depth that Cursebinder achieves is stunning. Cursebinder’s promo materials describe Psychohazard’s theme as a study in the collision of life’s ‘rat race’ and humanity’s inherent desire for love and acceptance. As the demands of my own life continue to creep,4 this idea strikes a chord that thrums with self-renewing relevance every day. “Death Season” bustles with vitriol and vigor as Proficz’s caustic vocals impel the track in a blinding tempest, while “The Astronaut” and “Under the Skin” float upon currents that relax and unwind one moment before boiling over into frenzied bursts the next. But even this is an oversimplification, as each track proves vibrant and diverse, refusing to condense into single emotions. Broadly, the back half of Psychohazard feels lighter than the front, putting more emphasis on dimensions that evoke post-metal’s vagrant dreaminess without losing the threads of riffs or motifs. Considering Cursebinder’s sprawling ambitions, Psychohazard sounds focused and urgent throughout its runtime. The post-addled haze never drifts too far, the scorching fury never burns too hot, and the tender flashes never linger long enough to caramelize into mawkishness. I credit this purposefulness to the efficient instrumentation that Cursebinder unfurls with nary a wasted flourish. Guitarist Hubert Fudała and bassist Łukasz Sojka wend together in climactic swells and releases that expertly pace the album’s fifty-three minutes,5 and Marek Koszycki drums with nuanced timekeeping that flits between punk-powered d-beats (“Saturnine Rage”), insistent blast beats (“Made to Be Sold”), and delicate rhythms (“The Astronaut”). Proficz’s synth presence penetrates Psychohazard’s compositions, and in totality Cursebinder rewards repeat listens as each musician’s contributions impress individually while coalescing into an assembly greater than its sum. Although post-related tags usually thwart my interest, something about Cursebinder’s spell called to me from beyond the ether. Psychohazard proves textures and layers can inculcate depth rather than acting as a standalone attraction, and going forward I hope to point to Cursebinder as my entry point into appreciating a wider expanse of metal. Cursebinder’s faults are few, and even if the record is slightly front-loaded or a few songs linger a tad overlong, these nitpicks pale in light of Psychohazard’s utter glory. If you seek an album that synthesizes the aura of post-metal with more conventional metal structures, I doubt you’ll find a better album this year. Barring that, you should listen to Cursebinder anyway, because missing it could be a Psychohazard to your health. --- Rating: Great! DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3 Label: Avantgarde Music Websites: Bandcamp6 | Facebook | Instagram Releases Worldwide: October 23rd, 2026 The post Cursebinder – Psychohazard Review appeared first on Angry Metal Guy.

I commonly see the “blackgaze” and “post-black” genre labels used interchangeably. Though they are, in fact, distinct from one another, I could understand the confusion if Cløudy Skies were a listener’s first exposure. On their sophomore record, Bury Me Beneath the Stars, this French duo seeks to blend hazy shoegaze with seismic post-metal (and sparing elements of black metal). The promise of this type of light and heavy fusion is always enticing enough to get me through the door, but the right mood-setting needs to happen for me to want to stay there. How is this week’s weather forecast looking? The title of the opening track, “Fluffy Darkness,” is a pretty good summation of how the entire album sounds. The overarching climate is morose but decidedly unthreatening. Nicolas Simon’s guitar tones adopt the twinkling tones one can expect of blackgaze acts such as Falaise or Together to the Stars, often releasing torrents of reverb to shower the listener with suffocating walls of sound. Lionel Forest handles the vocals, alternating between drab, dreary singing and anguished rasps and roars. The combined effect of this gazey post-metal reminds me a lot of Junius, albeit with less defined and more shapeless melodies that I struggle to recall after numerous plays. Bury Me Beneath The Stars by Cløudy Skies As expected from such an atmospheric album, much hinges on mood setting. Unfortunately, Cløudy Skies often create multiple conflicting moods. The problem stems from the heavier sections when the post-metal growls and thunderous drum beats are layered atop the exact same gossamer guitar lines as in the serene shoegaze parts. It probably would have been better if the guitar lines followed the rest of the music into the post-metal realm. The vocals themselves are also pretty problematic on their own. It’s as if the harshes try too hard to be expressive, and the cleans barely try at all. The two styles sound weaker when they’re double-tracked together (“Depth Spell,” “Bury Me Beneath the Stars”). Their shortcomings are even more stark in “Birdsong,” which is a cappella save for a few background synths, making for a thoroughly unpleasant track. Essentially, the vocals wield a multi-pronged attack that doesn’t win on any front. Ironically, I most enjoy the moments when stray rays of sunlight break through the clouds. This most often occurs during the tranquil, introspective moments, like the beginning of “Bury Me Beneath the Stars” or the midsection of “Depth Spell.” The heftier riffs in the intro of “Lights of the Night” are also promising, though they soon fizzle out. But even during these times, the notes swirl without coalescing into anything substantial. The biggest bright spot is the drumming, courtesy of Conny Pettersson (Anata), whose engaging rhythms and fills do their best to anchor the wispy, dreamlike music. But rarely can a drum performance carry lackluster songwriting on its own. Bloat is also a minor issue, as most of the tracks are in the 7 to 10-minute range, but, in this case, there isn’t much that would be noteworthy even if they were half as long. Bury Me Beneath the Stars is the type of music that depends on making the listener feel something, but what it makes me feel is a double whammy of boredom and confusion. There are some promising things going on instrumentally that could be developed further, but the vocals tend to chase away the fleeting reveries that Cløudy Skies manage to formulate. This is disappointing because I am incredibly predisposed to like this kind of music. I hope that in the future the two halves of Cløudy Skies can find a way to mix together more harmoniously. For now, it’s time for me to turn it over to ClarkKent for the aerial traffic report. --- Rating: 2.0/5.0 DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3 Label: Argonauta Records Websites: cloudyskies.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/cloudyskies.fr Releases Worldwide: October 16th, 2026 The post Cløudy Skies – Bury Me Beneath the Stars Review appeared first on Angry Metal Guy.

Entheos is a band I’ve followed since their inception. After discovering drummer and multi-instrumentalist Navene Koperweis through his work with Animals as Leaders, I devoured the debut EP Primal (2015) and full-length Dark Future (2017). Then 2023’s Time Will Take Us All arrived and blew my doors off, showcasing just how far Koperweis and vocalist Chaney Crabb had come as a duo. As I gushed in the comments of Dolphin’s review, I think he underrated it.1 So, when I was elected to review Empty on the Inside, I felt a sense of trepidation. The pre-release tracks had already foreshadowed a dramatic change, and if the singles primed me for what was to come, seeing the label “alternative metal” staring back at me from the onesheet all but confirmed that I was in for something new and different. On their fourth LP, Entheos indeed venture into the new and different, with an eye toward broadening their audience. A smoother, more vanilla approach supplants the group’s ghost-in-the-machine overt technicality and feels noticeably less distinctive. Things start out promising enough, as “Hell is a Part of Me” and “Call My Name” reintroduce listeners to Entheos’ trademark blend of technical death and deathcore. Navene Koperweis’ metronomic rhythms and snappy snarework underpin low-tuned drawls, distorted chugs and quick trem-picked bursts, keeping everything rigid and methodical while allowing flashes of technicality to break through. Chaney Crabb remains a supreme talent, shapeshifting on a dime between pig squeals (“Call My Name”), reptilian rasps (“Hell is a Part of Me”), and crestfallen cleans (“Hollow,” “Call My Name”). However, Crabb’s cleans are pushed to the forefront as they pursue mainstream appeal through melodic hooks on tracks like “Hollow” and “Empty on the Inside,” evoking a cross between Courtney LePlante (Spiritbox) and Eva Spence (Rolo Tomassi). Whereas 2024’s The End of Everything EP only hinted at this approach, Empty on the Inside dials it up to eleven. Empty on the Inside by ENTHEOS Unfortunately, in their quest for broader appeal, Entheos have overshot the mark, stripping away much of what has historically made them so compelling in favor of formulaic songwriting that feels frustratingly bland. And while Empty on the Inside’s opening tracks largely hold their own,2 the cracks begin to show with “Golden Crown,” an alternative metal track drowned in genre trappings you’ve heard a million times before. Sporting a Deftones-esque feel, replete with a lurching, heavy rock groove and reverberated chord progressions, Crabb leverages her newfound ethereality to fuel mopey choruses about the burdens of love with a throaty roar that hits as shallow as the lyrics themselves. Few ideas feel particularly noteworthy or essential, and any hint of novelty quickly wears thin as Empty on the Inside veers in a completely different direction. Things continue to disintegrate as the album presses on. “Undone” is a ’90s industrial track that wouldn’t fly as a Nine Inch Nails B-side, while “Tomblight” revisits the same tropey territory as “Golden Crown” despite a solid—albeit brief—guest spot from Michael Lessard (The Contortionist). The delicate acoustic ballad “Never Let Me Go” offers the most compelling contrast to Entheos’ typical tech-death approach. Crabb’s performance is convincing, even though it feels particularly out of place within the album. “Pale Faith” and “The Earth Will Move” offer a reminder of just how formidable Chaney can be, as she unleashes a barrage of reptilian rasps and ferocious screams alongside the occasional falsetto line. It’s a shame she doesn’t strike this balance more often across Empty on the Inside because she clearly demonstrates her growth as a vocalist. Koperweis, meanwhile, who has been vocal on Instagram about his commitment to natural drum performances without triggers,3 continues to anchor Entheos with his usual precision. His kit sounds terrific, providing a focal point amid the otherwise pedestrian guitar work, save for the occasional solo that injects some needed fireworks. Empty on the Inside is disappointing not because of its desire for change, but because Entheos have abandoned many of the defining characteristics that originally made them a force to be reckoned with. It was only a matter of time before evolution occurred, but the direction they’ve chosen leaves a lot to be desired. Empty on the Inside resembles a collection of songs rather than a cohesive whole and feels like an ill-advised attempt to ride the Spiritbox wave, crossing too far into territory Entheos never needed to occupy. It’s a divisive shift that will likely bifurcate their fan base, potentially alienating longtime listeners while appealing to a much broader audience. --- Rating: Disappointing DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3 Label: Metal Blade Records Websites: entheosofficial.bandcamp.com | entheosofficial.com | facebook.com/entheosband Releases Worldwide: October 23rd, 2026 The post Entheos – Empty on the Inside Review appeared first on Angry Metal Guy.

Though it may only take you five or so minutes to read—well, one to skim, ten seconds to stare at the scores, another few to check whether the score safety counter still works, 30 seconds to draft a snarky “what is this site coming to” comment that you delete, a couple minutes to see what other bewildered folks have to say about something completely unrelated, and a final scan to skim the conclusions again—this article, and another 26 minutes to listen to Vntrve if you please, the beauty of Beaten to Death lies in that none of that will be enough time. In a genre of microblasts and unintelligible grunts and barks and bleats, this Norwegian exercise in twanged-out chaos delivers methodical and memorable vignettes of pure punk outpour. If there ever were a cure for stagnation, grindcore—particularly the buoyant and eclectic variety that Beaten to Death produces—would be it. To this point, Vntrve true to legacy, Beaten to Death has never put out the same album twice. At first blush, between the booming Norwegian rap intro1 and groovier pacing to match (“Slosspit”), it feels as though Beaten to Death doesn’t even want to grind. The traditions of grind would, of course, feel like shackles to the wiles of these time-tested tricksters. Yet, blast-addled breakaways crash into reggaeton dembows (“Electrocuted by the Sky”), reverb-soaked sax wailing (“The Tolerator”), and twisted synth dial screeches (“Vntrve”). Near every song challenges the expectations of grind, right down to the continued inclusion of their trademarked “distort the bass only” aggression tactic, which Beaten to Death also manages to subvert with a doomy opening guitar boom on “Memento Sugo.” It’s Christian Svendsen’s (Doedsvangr, ex-Tsjuder) reckless kick and snare play, really, that keeps transitioning moments tied to the necessary whiplash of the base genre. If you know what’s coming next, it’s a result of repeated digestion of Vntrve’s nooks and crannies. Vntrve by BEATEN TO DEATH Even on first listen, Vntrve reveals its tendency for barbed hook and diverse expression. As if B2D didn’t already have an ear for unmistakable melodies, the kind of post-hardcore-imbued flutters that would feel at place scattered about a The Fall of Troy or Botch jam (“Electrocuted by the Sky,” “(Du er verken Jesus eller Buddha) Du er Ugmod”), their ability to frame these moments of beauty against crash cymbal overloaded gallops and tattered layers of barks allows each song’s thread to weave that much tighter. Now seven albums down this idiosyncratic path, Beaten to Death runs the risk of sounding too much like themselves. And it’s true that the main riffs to “The Tolerator,” “Scroll On, Homeboy,” and “Satan Spawn, the K-Pop Demon” wear that identity proudly. But when there are ten others songs that each bring their own ideas to the table, these brief retreads—and I do mean brief; this is still grind after all—do little to get in the way of frequent enjoyment, especially when that enjoyment means shouting “SCROLL OOOON! HOME-BOY!” And a high frequency of playthroughs will reveal hidden treasures around every corner of Vntrve. On more than one occasion, as I played through the tapped-harmony transition of “Fångad i en Battle Vest,” I paused to find which Death song most fit as the proper object of homage and smiled as I could unite two legendary bands so closely in my head canon.2 The classic high and low vocal assault of “Fear of Being Included” rings very Napalm Death, which adds an irony to the track being the most straightforward grindcore piece of the whole set (and its stop-start uncertainty). And in stark contrast, the Abbath-ian croak that mic man Anders Bakke summons on “Sunburn Satanist”3 causes equal parts giddy black metal glee and pit-running abandon when it breaks back to grind on the back half. Though it’s easy to attribute parody to the cause, the play that B2D brings to their joking statements on aging in a metal world4 help bring each of these referential statements to a place of reverence. In this stretch of the real experimental side of their career, their most progressive leanings spawning with 2020’s Laat maar, ik verhuis naar het bos, Vntrve strikes the best balance of simple structures with oddball asides. While the closing title track runs as almost the longest in the B2D discography, it showcases too how quickly Beaten to Death can flip a stuttering mosh rhythm into a panning, dissociating fizzle of sax and synth bound together by an urgent kick and scaffolding folk melody. Guided by speed, fueled by chaos, and honed by an undying urge to make it all work—you can call that a manifestation of an unyielding DIY attitude—Vntrve marks another triumph in the undercelebrated story of Norway’s best-kept secret. Rating: 4.0/5.0 DR: 45 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3 Label: Mas-Kina Recordings Websites: beatentodeath.net | beatentodeath.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/beatentodeath Releases Worldwide: October 23rd, 2026 --- Alekhines Grind Genre-defying, progressive, inscrutable, idiosyncratic, bizarre, and avant-garde are but a few of the superlatives laid at the feet of the Beaten to Death body of work. And why not? Since their first full-length in 2011, these Norwegians have dedicated their entire careers to upending and rewriting the building blocks of grindcore with manic glee. Waving middle fingers at genre conventions with tongue planted firmly in cheek, the band have unleashed one platter after another of fast-paced, ADHD-riddled music which offers up a cascade of color and sound that incites as much joy as violence upon the listener. Seventh album Vntrve reveals its mission statement in its title; itself a sendup of the ludicrous saturation of letter-abuse in modern-day metal nomenclature while being utterly self-aware in doing so. But this long into such a forward-thinking career, are the jokes running thin? Or do the boys still know how to make you smile through the pain? If you’re new to the B2D sound, you may be surprised to learn that despite the outfits’ run-of-the-mill violent name, the music on offer is positively teeming with color and life, or at least pleasant surprise. Vntrve continues that trend, with the band gleefully snatching the listener from melodic leads and colorful tones to sudden, bone-savaging grooves without breaking a sweat. While personal favorite Laat Maar, ik verhuis naar het bos furrowed brows and turned frowns upside down thanks to weird sample use as much as song ideas (that dial-up tone, anyone?), for this outing B2D have stayed relatively stereotypical in their toolkit and pressed the gas on the competency of the compositions themselves. Highlight “Electrocuted by the Sky” alternates between melodic twanging and blackened leads only to punt in an eastern-sounding breakdown for no clear reason besides to show that they can, and it works. “And it works” is easily the best summary of their sound, as any selected track will have a sudden tonal shift, highlight, or riff switch-up which would be grounds for accusations of disjointed lack of focus in the hands of any other outfit. One of the distinguishing factors of B2D is their unapologetic sense of humor. From the curious sporadic English lyrics peppering “Fanged i en Battle Vest” to straight-up subgenre parodies and goofy song titles, there’s small, blink and you’ll miss them references to various bands and sounds throughout the sphere of all things metal, all delivered with a knowing smirk. “Sunburnt Satanist” switches up its vocal stylings into much more Immortal-ized flair, coming replete with decipherable declarations of “rimfrosted kingdoms”. “Satan Spawn, the K-Pop Demon” doesn’t merely reference Deicide by way of Cannabis Corpse wordplay but goes so far as to double-track the vocal presentation to sound ripped right off of Legion (or Deicide, obviously). Even without direct and simplistic parody, there is a sparkling sense of delight in their compositions, as the vast majority of tracks come with clean tones, major keys, and melodic sheen both in contrast and companionship to all the bludgeonings which await. And the bludgeoning exists in abundance, as each and every cut comes packed with at least one moment of raw violence, tweaked and sculpted to fit into the record’s dizzying and Vntrve nature. “The Tolerator” offers the most straightforward curbstomping breakdown, before sliding into a delirious saxophone crashout courtesy of Bendik Brænne. This is no Rivers of Nihil knockoff, as the sax resurfaces during the closing title track “Vntrve” in a climactic build of glorious, jazzy delirium. Beyond the expectedly-unexpected progressivisms, you also get swipes at djent (“Scroll On, Homeboy”) and straightforward hardcore (“Du er Umgod”) to say nothing of sporadic blackened leads and whammy abuse. This “chuck it in the blender” approach should be ghastly and unfocused, but B2D proved their identities as aural alchemists long ago, and Vntrve is a celebration of the band’s masterclass in whimsical wielding of the unpredictable and exuberant. The last touch complimenting Vntrve is an appropriate one: a closing chime of bells, like a venue saying “thanks for coming out.” Beaten to Death keep their remarkable streak of creativity alive, offering up yet another release that makes for an enthralling, charming listen. Not every track smacks of the same cover-to-cover gloriousness, but with most landing in the traditional grind run of one to two and a half minutes, they at least each come with a highlight worthy of repeated listens and make for a package that could easily be called grin-inducing as much as mosh-worthy or violent. And how many other grind albums are you gonna find with psychedelic-looking flamingos on the cover? Beaten to Death remain as committed to the bit as ever, using a stereotypically ruthless subgenre to convey imagination and adventure with pulverization in equal measure; a remarkable declaration that though they can brawl with the best of them, they will always remain utterly Vntrve. Rating: 4.0/5.0 ---  The post Beaten to Death – Vntrve Review appeared first on Angry Metal Guy.

And they’re back! The tiny one-man band (plus a few friends) I love, with the name I can never spell correctly. Soliloquium first darkened my iron doorstep with their 2018 sophomore outing Contemplations, impressing with a combination of early Katatonia-meets-Rapture that resulted in a nigh-irresistible melodoom sound. The brains behind the project is one Stefan Nordström, who handles vocals and guitars, and over the years he’s been aided and abetted by Jonas Bergkvist, who manned the bass. This is the first Soliloquium release without Bergkvist’s talents, and from what I can glean, Nordström brought in Henrik Ekholm (ex-Within the Fall) to play bass and Filipe Caeiro (ex-Steel Arctus) to man the kit. Staying true to the melodoom template heard on past albums, Upheaval finds Soliloquium expanding their sonic palette slightly, giving the material a deeper, more complex flavor. Soliloquium already released several gripping, mood-drenched albums that transport you to dark, melancholic headspaces, yet they still seem criminally underappreciated. Will their 6th full-length finally see them landing in more ears and on more wagging tongues? Things kick off bigly with the 7 minutes of “Tightrope,” which is the near-perfect fusion of vintage Ghost Brigade with Viva Emptiness-era Katatonia sprinkled with bits of the almighty Rapture. It’s edgy and depressive, and heavy as hell thanks to the jangled, discordant riffs and booming death roars that fill the gaps between the melancholic trilling and weepy leads. The forlorn clean vocals (courtesy of Toni Hatakka of Hanging Garden) cut deep in a song filled to the brim with emotions. It’s a strong candidate for Song o’ the Year. “Contrarians” is nearly as good, finding the ideal balance of black, death, and melodoom sadboi sounds that tickle your negative emotions while still making you want to commit acts of random wiolence. There’s more Rapture in the DNA of the guitar work here, and that’s always a win, and the clean vocals (I assume from Stefan Nordström) are frail and a touch twee, but convey a sense of vulnerability and pain. The title track has a similar vibe to Deathwhite, rocking an extra bleak, joyless atmosphere. It’s particularly beautiful in its crippling despair as the guitar work holds you in a chilly thrall. It’s a haunting tune that will stick with you. Unlike the last Soliloquium outing, Upheaval doesn’t lose steam on the back half. The album is consistent from start to finish with no tracks that feel like they could/should be cut. Later offering “Livsöden” is nearly 7 minutes and uses that time well to create a captivatingly atmospheric experience with plenty of twists and turns along the way. It’s one of those rare songs that gets better as it goes along, and by the end you’re left wanting MOAR. “Time Stands Still” captures the spirit and sound of Slumber’s highly underappreciated debut Fallout. It even has bits and pieces of the vintage Agalloch magic bubbling up at times. Perhaps some of that Slumber influence can be attributed to Jari Lindholm helming the mixing and mastering. As one of the folks behind Slumber as well as Enshine and Exgenesis, he knows his way around the melodoom sound better than most, and the production demonstrates that with a deep, satisfying mix. At a tight 44 minutes, there isn’t much bloat to Upheaval, even though 2 tracks exceed the 7-minute mark. I can’t give Stefan Nordström enough credit. His death roars and blackened shrieks are as good as ever, and his singing has improved quite a bit. His guitar work across the album is impressive and creates many emotive moments that resonate deeper with each spin. He utilizes every element of sadboi melodoom that I love and slathers everything in such a heavy coat of gloom that it almost feels like too much of a grim thing. Almost. Hired gun Filipe Caeiro does a fine job on drums, bringing enough pop and propulsion to keep the listener awake, especially on the heavy, abrasive bits. I had concerns after Famine that Soliloquium may have seen their best days, but Upheaval proves me dead wrong. This is a very good slice of melodoom that often borders on greatness. I may, in fact, come to realize that I underrated it in the fullness of time. That’s the joy of an album with real depth and layers. With winter just around the bend, Upheaval will make a spectacular companion on those snowbound days of frigid isolation. Learn to spell Soliloquium correctly and order this album.  --- Rating: 3.5/5.0 DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3 Label: Meuse Music Websites: deathdoom.com | soliloquium.bandcamp.com |facebook.com/soliloquiumband Releases Worldwide: October 23rd, 2026 The post Soliloquium – Upheaval Review appeared first on Angry Metal Guy.

Sci-fi and speed metal. If that isn’t enough to get your hyperdrives boosted, then I don’t know what will. This particular combo isn’t as well represented in the metalverse as some of the more common varieties—sci-fi and black metal, campy horror and death metal, you know the ones—which puts Swedish speed freaks Armory in a prime position to dominate. With three full lengths under their belt so far, one of which positively received by our own Ape ov Steel, and a new vocalist at the helm, what new wonders await in fourth excursion Echoes of the Astrolith? Well, MOAR speed, of course! This is high-octane, laser-focused fare set to collide with Earth at warp 9.5. Touchstones ranging from Agent Steel to Bütcher to Riot City inform Armory’s various traipses through speedy riffs, heavy metal bravado, and black metal flourishes. Melodies move with an almost Xoth-like wiggliness that brings a lot of whimsy and exuberance to otherwise dark and seedy songwriting (“Interceptor Squadron,” “Frequencies of Terror”). Riffs pound and pummel with the vigor of death metal without venturing into the structures that genre often builds, which gives Armory a sense of heft and fullness not unlike what Dark Angel’s seminal Darkness Descends must’ve felt like when it was new (“Sanity Disposed,” “The Final Invention,” “Astrolith (Rising)”). Of course, it wouldn’t be speed metal without 10,000^10 ft/lbs of torque to send it flying off the galactic rails, and thankfully Armory fueled up extra before launching. Echoes of the Astrolith moves with an urgency rarified even in this vigorous style (“Return of the True Godz,” “Frequencies of Terror,” “Pillars of Fire”). Echoes of the Astrolith by Armory While new vocalist Chris Rostoff acquits himself with aplomb here, guitarists G.Sundin and N.Ingelman steal the show and make Echoes of the Astrolith a clinic in guitar wizardry. If it isn’t by way of screaming solos that nosedive and pitch back up in aerobatic fashion (“Interceptor Squadron,” “Frequencies of Terror”), Armory’s axe arsenal displays electrified pyrotechnics through monolithic riffs that find a perfect center position between death, thrash, and speed (“Astrolith (Rising)”); or with melodious leads and tremolo flares that writhe impatiently from measure to measure as they pull the rest of the band into unexplored space (“Return of the True Godz,” “Cosmic Dreams,” “Pillars of Fire”). A.Holmström blisters his way through asteroid fields with double-bass pummels, sharp blasts, and menacing gallops all throughout. Yet, his unhinged fill work sends his weaponry into overdrive at every opportunity to leave even the space dust in Armory’s wake obliterated (“Interceptor Squadron,” “Omens,” “Sanity Disposed”). Chris Rostoff, as previously mentioned, proves himself an absolute powerhouse on the mic here. His sneering bark and soaring wails are a perfect fit for this sound, and his scalpel-precise pitch-work is nothing short of astounding at the record’s peaks (“Interceptor Squadron,” “Pillars of Fire”). I just wish I could hear Jesper Lundin’s bass better. I’m sure he’s keeping up with the band with ease, but his presence lacks oomph in many quadrants and what playing I do hear with clarity follows the path laid by the rest of the rhythm section (“Frequencies of Terror”). Quality speed metal albums like this make me rethink my high estimation of other quality acts like Hellripper ever so slightly, but it’s hard to know what kind of staying power Echoes of the Astrolith has. Certain highlights such as “Interceptor Squadron” are sure to be trapped in the event horizon that is my playlist rotation. At 39 minutes, Echoes as a whole is tight enough to get regular spins out of me regardless of long-term memorability. However, a small question of consistency in songwriting quality nags at my thoughts. “Cosmic Dreams” is fun, but its mid-paced and slightly repetitive riffing introduces a poorly timed speed bump in the first quarter. In the second half, fluffy three-minute instrumental interlude “Spaceworkz” once again interrupts Echoes of the Astrolith’s momentum right before two high-octane bangers save the final third from certain doom. In the center, Echoes of the Astrolith keeps up a consistent level of songwriting quality—one that any band in this space should be proud to have penned—but a preponderance of overlong intros (“Omens”), and overlong outros (“The Final Invention”) conspire to pull these works back from greatness. You know speed metal is really fucking good if I’m close to calling it Great, and Echoes of the Astrolith is almost great. Armory deliver an impressive salvo of cooler-than-you’ll-ever-be speed metal tracks embellished with blackened, deathened, and thrashened elements the likes of which are sure to set your blasters to kill. If you’re looking for something to jam while you scream directly into a space-bound dogfight with the enemy mothership, look no further than Echoes of the Astrolith! --- Rating: Very Good DR: 10 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3 Label: Dying Victims Productions Websites: Bandcamp | Official Releases Worldwide: October 23rd, 2026 The post Armory – Echoes of the Astrolith Review appeared first on Angry Metal Guy.

When Sydney, Australia’s LiveWire dropped debut Under Attack! four years ago, they earned a glowing write-up from the Paragon of Porifera and even landed atop our resident Thrashhound’s top ten. Sophomore outing Steel Surpasses Flesh picks up where Under Attack! left off, and on it, LiveWire galvanizes listeners with full-throttle bangers that drill deep into your brain batter and ossify into permanent residents. Discharging unrelenting hooks at voracious speeds, LiveWire earns their name through eleven riveting tracks that won’t allow you to let go of their electrifying charm. Does Steel Surpasses Flesh top the high water mark of Under Attack!? The results may shock you. Finger-flaying leads and gluey melodies secure LiveWire’s firm hold on what made their debut so damn powerful, and their consummate collision of melodic genres excites and delights with wild-eyed enthusiasm. Speed metal’s belligerent paces run rampant across Steel Surpasses Flesh, channeling the likes of Exciter and Agent Steel as they whip arrangements into tightly-wound ragers. Unlike classic speed metal, though, LiveWire dodges raw aesthetics in favor of a crisper production that suggests retro vibes while cutting the fuzz to allow the instrumentation to gleam. Classic heavy metal also rears it head with Riot’s Thundersteeled aggression anchoring cuts like “Pathway to Ruin” and “Steel Surpasses Flesh” while “Fast Mean Killing Machine” struts with the West Coast sleaze of Mötley Crüe united with Van Halen-tinged virtuosity as LiveWire looses lyrics that blur lines between fast cars and faster women.1 The rest of Steel Surpasses Flesh mostly operates with reckless momentum that careens and caroms between speed, thrash, and power metal. Rather than sounding scattershot or unfocused, though, LiveWire welds these backdrops with “Surgical Precision” and elicits finely forged, genre-fused bliss. Like Under Attack!, Steel Surpasses Flesh inundates listeners with gigawatt riffage and anthemic refrains. “Epinephrine Attack” crackles with slickety licks from the moment you hit play, shining a dazzling spotlight on guitarists Anthony Ierardo and Chris Puglia. Their theatrics scorch fretboards and sear pickguards as the master shredders go “Lightspeed Crazy” in an “All Consuming Nightmare” of turbocharged audio adrenaline. The track names give away exactly the type of high-velocity hijinks that LiveWire deals, and marshaling those forces is singer/bassist Nick Wilks. Where his vocals took a backseat to the guitars and drums on Under Attack!’s mix, Wilks races to the fore on Steel Surpasses Flesh and delivers a confident performance that spends more time in falsetto reaches (“Demon Witch”), occasionally recalling Gama Bomb’s Philly Byrne (“Lightspeed Crazy,” “Pathway to Ruin”). I can understand why this might not work for some listeners, but he’s got great pipes and uses them while proving a deft bass player to boot. Lastly, George Delinicolis’s kitwork might feel unobtrusive compared to the stringed onslaught, yet he keeps the motör running and still finds opportunities to pour gasoline on LiveWire’s fire with savvy fills and rumbling double bass thunder. Steel Surpasses Flesh revels in rampant fun, but don’t let its carefree attitude fool you into thinking LiveWire’s tunes lack substance. The compositions remain as sharp as before, and where Under Attack! hinged its success almost entirely on the almighty riff, Steel Surpasses Flesh hones the vocal arrangements to maximize fist-pumping rapture without sacrificing six-stringed ecstasy. I also appreciate the greater emphasis on Wilks’ voice in the mix, and though the vocals intermittently sound over-processed and glossy, I notice this less with each listen. Even so, the gang vocal echoes on “Epinephrine Attack” and “Lightspeed Crazy” are as irrepressibly exquisite as the surrounding instrumentation, and the production does a fine job balancing audibility and punch. With a band this talented it would be easy to succumb to excess, but these Aussies demonstrate a keen understanding of the tightrope walk between exuberance and restraint. I’ve gone back and forth on which LiveWire album I prefer, and although Steel Surpasses Flesh edges out Under Attack!,2 I’m thrilled to have both. Excluding bonus tracks, Steel Surpasses Flesh runs about twelve minutes longer, but the only opportunity to cut bloat lives on “Speed Kills,” and one minute out of forty-two hardly merits consideration. Steel Surpasses Flesh has quickly become my de facto companion when I can’t decide what to listen to, and it’s only picked up steam since I got the opportunity to write about it.3 If you need a jolt of energy as the year winds to a close, don’t be afraid to pick up this LiveWire and let its juice flow through you.  --- Rating: Great! DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3 Label: Self-Release Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook | Instagram Releases Worldwide: September 30th, 2026 The post LiveWire – Steel Surpasses Flesh Review appeared first on Angry Metal Guy.

Welcome to Disney World Dragonland! Its five kingdoms four realms provide hours of fun and entertainment for the whole family. Take a trip through a futuristic Tron-like realm in a fancy sports car! Sail the high seas through stormy waters that threaten to capsize your ship with 100-foot waves! Hike the scenic mountain trails at the mercy of the vicious, fire-breathing dragons! Explore an obliterated city from a post-apocalyptic world while dodging falling meteorites! Wait, this sounds way more terrifying than what was advertised when I originally booked my family trip. Isn’t this supposed to be symphonic power metal? I thought that was supposed to be harmless fun. Dragonland has been at the sympho-cheese act for quite some time, 27 years to be exact, but their output has slowed considerably compared to their more youthful times. When a less olde Steel Druhm reviewed Under the Grey Banner in 2011, it was their fifth release in ten years. Now they make a triumphant return to the blog 15 years later for album number seven, Prophecies. Is it worth the price of admission? Perhaps one advantage of less frequent releases is that it allows Dragonland to keep the spunk and energy of their youth. They take the good cheer of Fellowship and combine it with the fantasy-seasoned cheese of Rhapsody of Fire and Gloryhammer to make for some rather inspired tunes. Prophecies opens with gusto on the galloping, joyful “The Prophecy Unfolds,” complete with synth wizardry and some guitar fireworks. Beneath that cheer, however, the record can take a rather bleak view of humanity. On “Survival of Mankind,” for example, Jonas Heidgert sings with ironic joy, “Wastelands as far as your eyes can behold / Those before us brought destruction and despair.” It shouldn’t require a spoiler alert to say that a message of hope lurks behind the often dark lyrics, thanks to the uplifting music as well as a redemptive arc in the closing minutes of the finale, “Cries of Anguish.” Prophecies by Dragonland While the bulk of Prophecies contains rollicking, galloping tunes, Dragonland have plenty of other tricks up their sleeves to keep the record interesting. The synths provide a distinct ’80s character to some tracks. “Rolling Waves” opens with the synth rock touches of Duran Duran, and then there are hints of ’80s synth pop on “Dragonland.” This latter song takes its energetic start and rips into a banger complete with a fun gang vocal chorus. Anders Hammer’s bass also makes a strong mark throughout Prophecies, with a Stratovarius-inspired bit on “Making Darkened Nights So Bright” as well as a funky bridge solo on “Call of the Wild.” The slower, piano-led ballad, “Light of the Sunset,” gives Heidgert the opportunity to show his range, crooning gently in the early goings and then belting his heart out in an emotional climax. Dragonland shake up their rigid formula on the more progressive “Glory and Gold.” This seafaring piece feels like a missed opportunity to partner up with the nautical Terra Atlantica, and at the very least could serve as the start of a raucous adventure film. Dragonland puts its power metal formula mostly to good use, writing tight, catchy songs that nonetheless begin to sag as the album drags on. Part of the issue is the generically uniform riffs that serve as the music’s backbone. Jesse Lindskog offers up some guitar solos here and there, often mixed with Elias Holmlid’s wild keyboard fretting, but the fact remains that the guitars feel almost like an afterthought for the most part. Prophecies also ends up feeling bottom-heavy, as tracks begin to creep into five-minute territory on the back half. They’re still fun songs, but their length does cause Prophecies to sag as it reaches its conclusion. Fortunately, “The Call of the Wild,” featuring the record’s best lead riff as well as an excellent chorus, swoops in to spice things up down the final stretch. If you’re a fan of the cheese, don’t miss out on this roller coaster ride of an album. Dragonland offers the thrills and joys of an amusement park ride from the safety of your headphones. They have managed to sound just as fresh and exciting as the newbies in the field. They may not shred like Dragonforce, but they’ve retained and sharpened a decades-old identity thanks to sharp songwriting and plenty of spunk. Buckle up and prepare yourself for one glorious ride. --- Rating: 3.5/5.0 DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3 Label: Scarlet Records Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook Releases Worldwide: October 23rd, 2026 The post Dragonland – Prophecies Review appeared first on Angry Metal Guy.

Religion, and cultural tradition stemming from religion, is a rich vein for artists of all walks, so it’s always disappointed me somewhat that so much of metal takes the “anti-” approach to religious-based storytelling. Obviously I get it, metal being metal and all, but it does make projects like Amaseffer (“People of the Holy Book”), the Israeli progressive folk metal project of Erez Yohanan, stand out. I’d not heard of Amaseffer before this year; my only context going in comes from my colleague Mystikus Hugebeard, who told me, and I quote, “I loved their first album, and it released back in like fucking 1907.” He was close—Exodus: Slaves for Life, their debut full-length, released in 2008 and tells the story of the Israelite Exodus from Egypt up to the ten plagues and subsequent exile of the Hebrew people. When the Lions Leave Their Den is part two of the trilogy, covering the start of that exile up to Moses’s arrival at Mount Sinai. After such a hiatus, it is perhaps not surprising that the music of Amaseffer sounds fresh and vibrant. It is indeed a work of folk-infused progressive metal, with long song forms, only a light touch of heaviness, and a clear Middle Eastern influence, especially in the orchestration and instrumentation. Lead singing is split between Lukky Sparxx and Jessica Mercy, but there are also narrations in English and Hebrew from a variety of vocalists, including Kobi Farhi (Orphaned Land), and growls by another three. More than folky, though, When the Lions Leave Their Den is cinematic. Songs act as scenes observing the Exodus from multiple angles: in “Stardust Harvesters” we take a moment to share the faith of the fleeing exiles before a cloud of smoke marks their path in the spectacularly heartfelt “A Sacred Mist of the Sacred Veil.” After that, we switch settings and follow the Egyptian army pursuing the Israelites in “Lady of Slaughter,” a heavy, exciting song that strongly evokes the mad bloodlust of the slighted military. The result feels more like a journey than an album, with frequent acoustic guitars enhancing the storytelling feel. Of course, it probably helps that I’m already familiar with the story of the Exodus, but apart from familiarity, the religious and cultural story also lends When the Lions Leave Their Den a sense of reverence that feels rare in metal. Like a Jewish Theocracy, the musicians of Amaseffer bring passion and respect for their source material to everything they do. “Miriam” is a beautiful, heartfelt power ballad that Mercy elevates with her beautiful expression of a lost people dreaming of a new home. “Wooden Staff Part II” has a fairly standard construction, with upbeat riffs, piano, and some acoustic moments, but the way Sparxx describes the legendary staff of Moses feels a touch inspired. From another angle, the beautiful “A Flame Unbidden” allows both singers to explore the ineffable nature of faith through gorgeous acoustic, orchestral, and metal melodies, courtesy of Yohanan himself. Like so much progressive metal, When the Lions Leave Their Den commits absolutely to its ideas, eager to explore each one to its fullest. More specifically, this means the ten-song album runs a staggering seventy-two minutes, so it’s a good thing it sounds so good—the production is clear, modern, and allows each of the many instruments and vocalists to shine. “Pathway to the Promised Land” is the only song to actually reach the ten-minute mark, and while I think it overstays its welcome, it’s also hard to not get swept away by the early orchestral notes, the gradual rise to climax, and sense of mighty wonder as the sea itself parts for God’s people. It’s so good, but ten minutes is a lot even for this pivotal moment. Similarly, “Stardust Harvesters” is a beautiful, moving song, but at seven minutes feels like it’s lingering a bit. This is a common theme: songs are beautifully constructed and performed, but often stick around a touch too long. I want to stress again that When the Lions Leave Their Den succeeds at feeling like a work of cinematic metal, because I feel that’s an impressive thing to achieve. The passionate performances, strong songwriting, and epic storytelling come together to tell a fantastic tale in an engaging and impressive way. If a handful of songs linger too long on a given idea, well, that happens in movies too. I’m still very excited for part three. --- Rating: 3.5/5.0 DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3 Label: Self-release Websites: amaseffer.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/OfficialAmaseffer Releases Worldwide: October 8th, 2026 The post Amaseffer – When the Lions Leave Their Den Review appeared first on Angry Metal Guy.