Stuck in the Filter: March 2026’s Angry Misses By Kenstrosity

Rain has started to leak into the ducts as Spring gets wetter and wetter. While I’m away, vacationing in a nice, dry, cloudy place, my minions are drenched and miserable. As it should be! But I’m still keeping tabs on their progress. Just because I’m having a great time somewhere else doesn’t mean these louts don’t have a quota to meet!

And meet their quota they shall, if only barely… BEHOLD!

ClarkKent’s Sci-Fi Soundbites

Epigram // Obsolescent [March 6th, 2026 – Self Released]

Combining the melodic black metal of Thulcandra and Dissection with the symphonics of Fleshgod Apocalypse and SepticFlesh, Epigram dropped a tasty little morsel with their debut, Obsolescent. The trio from Los Angeles puts on a spirited performance that borders on thrash. Tim Cauley’s display on the kit is a dominant force as he furiously blast beats his way from one song to the next. He turns “Wrath of Betrayed” into a piece of blackened thrash and proves tireless across Obsolescent’s 27-minute runtime. The lively vocal performance of Luis Echevarria adds further to Epigram’s charm. His low growls may seem underpowered, but his delivery is energetic and fun. He’s also the source of the symphonic instrumentation, via synths, though this aspect is secondary. Sure, there’s some choral chants (“Myrmidon,” “The Usurper’s Throne”), strings (“Hour of Gods”), and other vaguely symphonic sounds, but Epigram is most focused on the blackened melodic stuff. Shadi Absi throws together some great riffs, particularly on “Empires,” a work of pure black ‘n roll. The showstopper is “Hour of Gods,” with some sweet riffs and terrific energy. This song alone makes Obsolescent a worthy spin. Rounding out the musicians is Sanjay Kumar (Inferi, Wormhole), who plays solos on “Wrath of Betrayed” and “No Sin.” This is a promising debut for an eager new band.

Kal-El // Astral Voyager Vol. 2 [March 20th, 2026 – Blues Funeral Recordings]

Sporting the greatest band name of all time, Kal-El have been blasting listeners with stoner doom since 2012. Astral Voyager Vol. 2 is the follow-up to last year’s Vol. 1, and these pyschedelians’s seventh album overall. It’s been seven years since Witches of Mars was unfairly pummeled by a Kryptonian frog, and now I’d like to do the band justice by rescuing them from our filter. On this astral voyage, you get the pleasure of listening to six songs and 42 minutes of laid-back stoner tunes with plenty of fuzzy riffs—perfect for cruising around the cosmos. Their riff-centric approach puts them in the Black Sabbath camp, and the riffs on the likes of “Juno” and “The Prophecy,” which has a “Children of the Grave” vibe, are tons of fun. Further cementing the Sabbath comp is the vocal performance of Ståle Rodvelt, who carries a resemblance to Ozzy in his delivery. Longer cuts take more exploratory routes, akin to Sleep, yet still feature plenty to get your head bobbin’. “Asteroid” opens up with some sweet riffs that sustain its near eight-minute frame, while “The Nine” will still have you singing along in the final of its ten minutes. 1 So if you are in the mood for something chill that won’t put you to sleep, something that has the riffs without the risk of elevating your blood pressure, you should spend some time with Kal-El.

Thus Spoke’s Tectonic Treat

Bong-Ra // Esoterik [March 20th, 2026 – Debemur Morti Productions]

Not having received promo, it was only upon visiting DM’s Bandcamp page while writing up Aversio Humanitatis that I realised Bong-Ra had released another album. Asked whether Esoterik would be leaning more into enigmatic doom or spiky industrial electronica, the shapeshifting Bong-Ra said “yes”. The music is built on layers of dense, gritty atmosphere undulating with bass, breakbeats, and distorted riffs. Vocals are maintained from Black Noise—half-spoken snarls blurred by noise, shifting between blunt tunefulness (“Serpentine Helix”) and gargling venom (“Machine Halo”)—but at least half of the space is devoted to the purely instrumental psychosis. The saxophone is back, adding bizarre elegance and chilling eeriness in equal measure. Sometimes, Esoterik seems to be pitting its sultry and acerbic natures against one another; that chamber jazz side can take one by surprise (“Pleasures of the Flesh,” “Duality of One”), sandwiched as it is between a more punishing industrialism, but Bong-Ra just about gets away with it. This could be down to Esoterik’s efficiency in establishing (new) grooves—rhythmic and stylistic. Opener “Harmony Cloak” dispels misgivings on its skittering electronic oddity with a chorus that strikes a stylish balance between melody and dissonance; “Machine Halo” later follows in its stride. It’s an album that earns its moniker, right down to the particular spelling, and is worth the dark diversion it requires.

Grin Reaper’s Kooky Curios

Surturian // II – Hessian Spears [March 13th, 2026 – Crawling Chaos]

A German thrash band named after the legendary fire giant and guardian of Muspelheim? And on their debut LP, they launch an unrelenting, venomous assault filled with sticky riffs and bopping bass grooves in under forty-five minutes? Sign me up! Surturian plays thrash that smacks of early Testament and Metallica fused with the epic melodies of latter-day Kreator—hell, vocalist Tim Krogull reeks of Mille’s rancorous vocals, even though his name hews closer to a Voivodian disposition. In addition to thrash influences, Surturian calls upon Maiden’s signature gallops (“Cimmerians Wrath”) and anthemic melodies (“⁠Night Stalker,” “Do What Thou Wilt”), inculcating a lofty grandeur throughout II – Hessian Spears. Further fanning Surturian’s flames, the outfit navigates a varied landscape that imbues each track with its own character while never straying too far from their core sound. Hard-hitting offensives (“Blood Witchery”), slinky licks (“Night Stalker”), and oddball songwriting (“Beneath a Dying Sky”2) unite into an album I’ve regularly returned to since discovering it. If you’re feeling unSurtain, take it from me—it’s always a good time for some Hessian aggression!

Barn // Crucibles [March 24th, 2026 – Self Released]

Thanks to a certain dude/guy in the comments section, Crucibles didn’t slip past me undetected. Despite their dubious band name, Barn dropped a humdinger slab of tech death back in March that oozes with references to Unquestionable Presence (Atheist), Focus (Cynic), and, to a lesser extent, Decrepit Birth.3 There are even moments that echo more subdued moments from recent Sallow Moth releases (“The Serpent’s Perpetual Shed”). Staccato bursts of guitar, pinch harmonics, and buttery, fretless bass glissandos epitomize what Barn offers, and they spread it thick and chunky all over Crucibles’ sixty-five-minute runtime. Rustic name notwithstanding, Barn’s latest sounds like a sci-fi adventure, supported by track names like “Black Hole Lens” and “Cymatics.” The fretless bass especially helps with the futuristic aesthetic, frictionlessly gliding through gusts of abrupt, otherworldly guitars that buffet tracks from all angles. Barn rarely offers reprieve during their unconventional onslaught, but tracks like “Forbidden Fruits,” “Cymatics,” and “The Defeater” achieve such heights that I don’t find myself needing one. In short, these Boise boys warp listeners to a different dimension on Crucibles, and though it runs a tad long, I haven’t been deterred yet from lighting up this Barnburner.

Dionysiaque // La Tourbe des Rêves [March 27th, 2026 – I, Voidhanger Records]

Dionysiaque dispenses a bizarre derivative of doom on La Tourbe des Rêves that’s sure to be equal parts captivating and divisive. Reaching into the bag of tricks defined by Cathedral, Black Sabbath, and Candlemass, Dionysiaque’s sophomore album lumbers and chugs with classic rock-inspired leads and firecracker songcraft that I find utterly enthralling. Songs like “Aaron,” “Hate Fruit,” and “The Two Headed Boy” spotlight Dionysiaque’s plaintive guitar wails, contributed by L.B. and Bruno Penserini, along with their savvy balance of somber atmospheres and rousing melodies. Buoying the guitar tandem, bassist Lethal lays down frolicking, fabulous thunder via absorbing countermelodies while drummer T.H. looses potent fills and rolls throughout. Soaring atop the instrumentation are N.C.’s unorthodox vocals, which will almost certainly be the sole determining factor in listeners’ ability to engage with La Tourbe des Rêves. His delivery recalls that of Mayhem’s Attila Csihar at his most operatically deranged, never lacking conviction yet occasionally overpowering and ostentatious. Still, I appreciate and enjoy the commitment to the unhinged performance, and although dialing it back a little would make Dionysiaque’s latest more accessible, I’ve come to love La Tourbe des Rêves without apology. So don’t be afraid to let a little love into your heart—go get debauched with Dionysiaque’s aphrodisiac.

Creeping Ivy’s Pandemonic Pleasure

Mammon’s Throne // My Body to the Worms [March 13th, 2026 – Hammerheart Records]

In advising his fellow fallen angels—recently expelled from Heaven—to turn Hell into a competing kingdom, Mammon projects that All Demons will ‘work ease out of pain / Through labor and endurance.’4 Satan doesn’t heed this advice, but the third LP from Mammon’s Throne arguably does. On My Body to the Worms, this Australian five-piece inflicts pleasurable pain upon metaldom via five filthy slabs of sludgy death-doom (plus two instrumental reprieves). Mammon’s Throne conjure Hooded Menace, Temple of Void, and (old) Worm in their proclivity for plodding tempos, swampy riffs, and gravely howls (“Elixir”). The album is also a labor of love for classic (death-) doom à la Paradise Lost and My Dying Bride, mixing gothy croons, ascendant melodicism, and haunting piano into the band’s sinister stew (“Every Day More Sickened,” “At the Threshold of Eternity”). Though the listener does need some endurance, as three of the five non-instrumentals hover in the 8–9 minute range, the record flows fluidly across an easy 42 minutes. If you ever wondered what metal in league with Mammon might sound like, give My Body to the Worms a spin.

#2026 #AmericanMetal #AstralVoyagerVol2 #Atheist #AustralianMetal #AversioHumanitatis #Barn #BlackSabbath #BluesFuneralRecordings #BonRa #Candlemass #Cathedral #CrawlingChaos #Crucibles #Cynic #DeathDoom #DebemurMortiProductions #Decapitated #DecrepitBirth #Dionysiaque #Dissection #Doom #DoomMetal #DutchMetal #ElectronicMetal #Epigram #Esoterik #ExperimentalMetal #FleshgodApocalypse #FrenchMetal #GermanMetal #HammerheartRecords #HoodedMenace #IVoidhangerRecords #IIHessianSpears #IndustrialMetal #IronMaiden #KalEl #Kreator #LaTourbeDesRêves #MammonSThrone #Mar26 #Mayhem #MelodicBlackMetal #Metallica #MyBodyToTheWorms #MyDyingBride #NorwegianMetal #Obsolescent #ParadiseLost #PsychedelicMetal #Review #Reviews #SallowMoth #SelfReleased #SepticFlesh #Sleep #SludgeDoom #SludgeMetal #StonerDoom #StuckInTheFilter #StuckInTheFilter2026 #Surturian #SymphonicBlackMetal #TempleOfVoid #Testament #ThrashMetal #Thulcandra #Voivod #Worm

Elder – Through Zero Review By Samguineous Maximus

Elder sits at the top of their field, a rare heavy band with a genuinely singular sound that has earned both widespread critical acclaim and a massive, devoted audience. The Massachusetts-to-Berlin transplants have conquered the world with their brand of long-form, psychedelic stoner rock, which effortlessly evokes the hypnotic sprawl of 70’s prog and fuses it with towering, fuzz-drenched guitar work. Elder cemented their greatness with the riff-forward stoner psych of Lore (2015) and the pensive doom/prog of Reflections of a Floating World (2017), but stumbled a bit with the more straightforward Omens (2020). 2022’s Innate Passage was never covered here, but it proved the band still had plenty of creative momentum, embracing mellotron-laced atmospherics and expansive prog excursions without losing the crushing guitar work at the heart of their appeal. Now, four years later, Through Zero arrives with early singles hinting at an even deeper dive into synth-heavy textures and cosmic reflection. Does Through Zero serve as another worthwhile addition to the Elder catalog?

Through Zero features many of Elder’s trademark mannerisms, but complicates their stoner inclinations in favor of more amorphous soundscapes that prioritize dynamics. Elder still deploys bombastic, fuzzed-out riffs and complex, interlocking rhythms and melodies, but they’re buoyed by longer stretches of calming, golden age Yesisms and introspective krautrock-flavored wanderings. Compositions don’t move between various parts as much as they unfurl seamlessly and organically, with meditative, odd-meter loops giving way to crushing guitar theatrics and emphatic hooks, all while maintaining an immaculate sense of psychedelic contemplation. While Elder still sounds like they’ve bottled the rare moments of transcendence that arise in the best of freeform jams, their songwriting now feels more intentional, grounded by a firm sense of contrast and a consistent push-and-pull that comes across as carefully patterned rather than formulaic. The band showcases a nuanced take on the classic and effective “soft/loud” paradigm, as tracks weave effortlessly between quiet deliberation and crushing grandeur, each shift serving to heighten the eventual climax of dizzying catharsis. This allows the stunning conclusion of songs like the title track and “Sight Unseen” to stand alongside the best Elder moments, rivalling the peaks of “Sanctuary” or “Illusory Motion” in resounding splendor.

Of course, these sonic journeys are only able to soar so high due to the strength of the individual parts and performances, with Elder’s veteran chemistry shining through across every facet of Through Zero. Elder truly move as one cohesive unit, main axeman and vocalist Nick DiSalvo leading the charge with jubilantly clean, single-note runs and multifaceted heavy guitar explosions (“Sigil to Ruin”). Behind him, the rhythm section follows perfectly in step, allowing complex patterns and grooves to coalesce into something instantly familiar. DiSalvo’s vocals are still the least impressive element, but he leans far more into an ethereal John Anderson tenor, using his voice to emphasize notable passages rather than to dominate them. Synthmaster and second guitarist Mike Risberg has been with the band for years, adding nuance to the longform meanderings and accenting powerful crescendos. On Through Zero, he’s given much more room to leave his mark. A song like “Capture/Release” demonstrates the added depth the Tales From the Topographic Oceans style synths can add, beginning with a stunning electronic shimmer and playful plinks and ending with a searing keys solo that serves as the cherry on top of an already impressive riff-fueled finale.

For all of its intricate musicianship and circuitous compositions, Through Zero is a remarkably easy record to get lost in. Despite 5 out of the 6 tracks approaching the 10-minute mark, no moment or motif overstays its welcome, and every crescendo feels earned. Elder themselves took part in the production and mixing process, and their attention to detail is evident in the record’s rich analog warmth that never sacrifices modernity. From subtle cymbal washes and gentle synth pulses to towering distorted guitar tones, every sonic peak and valley feels carefully placed, giving the music an unexpectedly serene quality. That sense of tranquility reaches its apex on the closing track, “Blighted Age,” one of the shortest and most subdued pieces in Elder’s catalog. Eschewing the monumental builds that define much of the album, the song unfolds as a contemplative acoustic meditation, bringing Through Zero to a quietly reflective close.

In many ways, Through Zero feels like the album Elder have been building towards across their storied career. It blends the psychedelic riff-porn of Lore and Reflections with the atmospheric synth prog of Innate Passage and even sharpens its approach with the more discernible structures of Omens. More importantly, it captures the sense of wonder and transcendence that has always made Elder special, delivering some of the most rewarding music of their career in the process.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: N/A | Format Reviewed: Stream
Label: Blues Funeral Recordings
Websites: beholdtheelder.com | facebook.com/elderofficial
Releases Worldwide: May 29th, 2026

#2026 #40 #AmericanMetal #BluesFuneralRecordings #DoomMetal #Elder #May26 #ProgessiveMetal #ProgressiveRock #PsychedelicRock #Review #Reviews #StonerMetal #ThroughZero #Yes

Funebrarum – Beckoning the Void of Eternal Silence Review By Steel Druhm

New Jersey’s marshlands and hospital waste pits have long concealed one of America’s best death metal acts. Formed in 2000, Funebrarum leaked from the Garden State with a sound steeped in early 90s acts like Incantation and Immolation. Their Beneath the Columns of Abandoned Gods debut was a cavernous, monolithic ode to all things extreme and vile. Though it was crushingly heavy, there was a deft hand at work compositionally that made it all go down like greased tripe. It’s a classic of the death metal genre that, for whatever reason, never seems to get the respect it deserves. After 2009s excellent The Sleep of Morbid Dreams, the band went into a kind of extended hibernation, rising only occasionally to drop splits and EPs every few years, the last of which arrived in 2016. After 16 long years (and 10 of complete inactivity), they finally rise from the grave and deign to release a new full-length upon the world with Beckoning the Void of Eternal Silence. The good news is that multi-instrument wizard Phil Tougas of Worm, First Fragment, EXXÛL, and 50 other bands is on board to provide extra fretboard-busting insanity. After such a lengthy absence, what can one expect from Funebrarum? Will their usual caveman cavern-core antics still feel as terrifying and oppressive in this new age of death? Let’s drag the Jersey swamps for answers and dead mobsters.

After an overlong intro that sounds like it was stolen from a late 90s symphonic black metal album, we get dropped into the title track, which starts out equally moody and ominous before eventually shifting into cavern-core pummeling and blasting. Once this occurs, references to Incantation and Cruciamentum are inevitable, but this is a mellower beast with a lighter vibe to the music, as a classic 90s death metal gallop surfaces again and again amid stretches of doom slog and hyper-blastery. Guttural death vox and crazed blackened screams dot the landscape, and newish axe Sam Osbourne (ex-Undergang) joins Phil Tougas in dropping classic death leads and exploring other melodic spaces when solo time arrives. It’s a convincingly heavy, dense song, and it feels fairly inspired. Some of the momentum gained here is lost during the nearly 7 minutes of follow-up “ša nagba amāru,” which opts for a doomier direction and ends up a bit less convincing and forceful despite some interesting guitar work and appropriately dark moods. A big moment arrives with “Into Dark Domains,” where some of the classic Funebrarum energy sparks into being. It offers nods to classic 90s death platters like Onward to Golgotha, and some pieces even remind me of early grind days Carcass.

“From Rotting Burial Shrouds” delivers an immediately satisfying, few-frills beat down of foaming-at-the-mouth caveman death, and I love it, but it makes me wish for more lead pipe intensity from the rest of the material. And while nothing here could be labeled as wholly bad or filler (minus the short mid-album interlude), not every song puts the pimp hand down and bashes my brain into mind jelly. Penultimate track “Turning the Stones of Torment” is fairly generic and doesn’t do much for me. The nearly 9-minute finale, “The Whispering Cathedral – Epilogue,” is also underwhelming. It has interesting moments and segments, but by the 6th minute, I’m ready to settle my bill and check out. At 49 minutes, Beckoning feels significantly longer, and there’s noticeable bloat on several tracks that weigh things down in unfortunate ways.

There’s a garbage truck full of raw talent involved in the making of this album, even without the contributions from Mr. Tougas. Charles Koryn (Ascended Dead, ex-Ghoulgotha) is an impressive drummer, and he supplies a steady stream of gallops, blasts, rolls, and fills that keep things moving and shaking. Daryl Kahan (ex-Disma) is a true throat terror, shaking the ground with phlegmy, repellent croaks, and harsh screams. He sounds very inhuman and very reanimated. Now add the Tougas factor, and the guitar work goes from wow to WOW. The man can play and play he does. The only criticism I’d make is that some of the fretboard gymnastics make the vibe shift from death metal to melodeath and cause the album to feel less rancid and diseased.

I wasn’t expecting to see another album from Funebraum, and while I’m happy to have it, I’m a bit let down that it doesn’t approach the heights of their established discography. It’s definitely good with very good moments, but after so long in the void of eternal silence, it’s hard not to expect MOAR. I suppose part of the problem is that what they’re doing here has now been done so many times before, so some of the shock and awe has worn off. Still, there are loads of quality noise to be found for the patient death heads. New Jersey still has some disgusting tricks up its sleeve after all, besides Newark. Worth a loud blast, then go and visit their early stuff post-haste.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Pulverized Records
Websites: funebrarum-death-metal.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/funebrarumofficial | instagram.com/funebrarum_official
Releases Worldwide: May 29th, 2026

#2026 #30 #AmericanMetal #Autopsy #BeckoningTheVoidOfEternalSilence #Cruciamentum #DeathMetal #Funebrarum #Incantation #May26 #Review #Reviews

Old Moon – Home to Nowhere Review By Kenstrosity

April is commonly known in many parts of the Northern hemisphere for bringing on the rain. It’s often a chilling kind of rain, bringing temps down and diffusing light such as to create a gloomy, but not uninviting, atmosphere. This year, it seems the rain came late, falling heavily into the first weeks of May, thus extending that cloudy aesthetic into the warmer months as they creep in. Enter Oregon’s Old Moon, a melancholic melodic black metal quintet whose sound perfectly fits this muggy season, and their upcoming debut LP, Home to Nowhere.

To those familiar with the sadboi side of the metal spectrum, Old Moon will sound quite familiar. Combining Insomnium with more atmospheric acts like Skyborne Reveries or Skyforest, but produced with the warmth of Izthmi, Home to Nowhere is diffuse and cinematic in its melancholy. Like much of the black metal scene, blast beats abound, but thankfully, there’s quite a variety of patterns, deathly and doomy that break it up—even going so far as to explore a gothic rock swagger at key junctures (“Obsidian”). A deep roar trades blows with higher placed rasps to complement Old Moon’s smooth and gradual shifts from sweeping melodeath riffs, weeping leads, and trem-picked atmospherics. Familiar pieces all, and in concert they bring great comfort to these ears.

It’s a shame that Home to Nowhere’s production conspires against that comfort at every turn. The biggest culprit of my woes in this space are the drums, which are placed so far forward in the mix, and adopt the sharpest possible tone for snare pops and bass kicks, that each hit registers as moderately annoying to mildly painful. You may think this an exaggeration, but a song like “Distance,” which flows gently and with the grace of a swan, succumbs entirely to those drums. “My Name is Death” similarly suffers, but its more aggressive songwriting and confrontational vocal mixing helps to offset the imbalance somewhat. Compounding the issue, Home to Nowhere’s boomy engineering offers no modulation in any instrument to give quiet moments breathing room or dramatic swells a sense of growth or depth. As a result, the whole furrows the brow as I struggle to relax into these songs and enjoy its musicality.

Once I did manage to accept Home to Nowhere’s production and move past my frustration with it, I finally began appreciating Old Moon’s songwriting. While nothing here is so exciting and fresh as to bring them into the same conversation as genre icons like Insomnium, songs like “Creations Undone” and “Distance” showcase a beautiful array of mournful melodies and gothic drama. Not to mention “Creations Undone” features one scorcher of a black metal riff that comes out of absolute nowhere and raises the hairs on my neck. Other songs like “A Rest to My Name” and “My Name is Death” boast strong ideas and compelling melodicism, but in their case, the whole feels underbaked. Even after nearly six minutes, I find myself wondering where the rest of “A Rest to My Name” in particular went as it fades to black. Thankfully, opener “Between the Stars” and the title track make up some of that missed potential with well fleshed out motifs that, while on the longer-form side at seven-minute territory, resolve into satisfying conclusions.

In sum, Home to Nowhere is a decent record with some very strong ideas, marred by a punishing production (that still somehow scores into double-digits on my DR meter). With softer drum tones, less volume,1 and a more nuanced mix that allows quieter moments to shine alongside more intense ones, Old Moon could find much greater success in future efforts. Until that time, best to look elsewhere for a melancholy pall to go with that April May rain.

Rating: Disappointing
DR: 11 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: M-Theory Audio
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: May 8th, 2026

#20 #2026 #AmericanMetal #AtmosphericBlackMetal #HomeToNowhere #Insomnium #Izthmi #MTheoryAudio #May26 #MelodicBlackMetal #MelodicDeathMetal #OldMoon #Review #Reviews #SkyborneReveries #Skyforest

Periphery – A Pale White Dot Review By Samguineous Maximus

Over a decade removed from the djent boom of the early 2010s, stylistic flagbearers Periphery have settled into a comfortable routine, periodically regrouping from side projects and business ventures to release a new record every few years. Cracks in that formula began to show on 2023’s Periphery V: Djent Is Not a Genre, where the compositions started to feel both formulaic and scattershot. Their new release, A Pale White Dot, is their first non-numbered album since the two-part Juggernaut (2015). It seems intended as a departure from their established release pattern and a chance to reconnect with a more instinctive, creatively driven approach written from a “top-down” perspective shaped by themes of isolation and loneliness. Periphery remains one of my favorite bands (even if I find myself stuffed into the occasional AMG locker for this opinion), and I’m always excited by the prospect of their technically minded, melodic, and smartly written take on progressive metalcore. By centering this record around a more focused concept and shedding some of the expectations attached to their numbered releases, can this league of extraordinary “djentlemen” deliver another satisfying dose of syncopated brilliance?

As Juggernaut did for Periphery I and II, A Pale White Dot streamlines the maximalist hyper-technicality of Periphery III–V in service of its concept, even if that comes at the expense of what once made the band so compelling. Periphery helped define the 2010s metalcore formula of “djent riff + soaring clean chorus + breakdown,” a blueprint that would eventually shape modern heavyweights like Sleep Token and Spiritbox. Their music could pivot seamlessly between dizzying guitar acrobatics and polished melodic hooks without sacrificing momentum, turning even the most familiar structures into sprawling narrative journeys. A Pale White Dot is the first record where this strength fades into the background, with a diminished presence of the “pure-riffery” and progressive elements the band is known for. With a few exceptions (the psychotic opening riff of “Malevolent” or the bombastic bridge of “Everyone Dies Alone”), a set of shorter songs is largely held together by straightforward chugs and massive vocal-forward choruses. Periphery still sounds like themselves, but the overall shape of these songs is far closer to run-of-the-mill “Octanecore” than ever before. For the first time in their career, it feels like Periphery is merely iterating on popular sounds, rather than pushing them forward.

I’d describe the songcraft on A Pale White Dot as frustratingly competent. Periphery clearly knows what they’re doing every step of the way, and the band still finds ways to inject personality and variety into familiar formulas, even as their material sounds increasingly more generic. As always, the musicianship is absurdly sharp across the board, and once you acclimate to his squeaky pop cleans, vocalist Spencer Sotelo proves to be an essential ingredient in this polyrhythmic pie. His delivery feels more powerful than ever, shifting effortlessly between varied harsh vocals and emphatic arena-ready hooks. “Mr. God” and “Subhuman” land as earth-shaking djentcore bruisers, but beyond this, each track demonstrates a surprising diversity of moods. Subdued, vocal-driven tracks erupt into blackened tremolo passages (“Obsession”) or ludicrous mid-song breakdowns (“Carry On”), while songs like “Talk” and “Heaven on High” recapture the band’s classic sense of breakneck momentum, swerving between entertaining djent, crushing breakdowns, and massive refrains. Despite these turns, the whole package feels decidedly safe. The different song sections arrive with predictable timing, and certain chorus chord progressions/melodies begin to feel so familiar that some climactic moments lose their impact, especially when a weaker hook like “Unlocking” fails to justify the buildup.

Whereas my favorite moments on past Periphery records tend to come from huge, cathartic climaxes, some of the strongest passages on A Pale White Dot instead lean into understated nuance. “Blackwall” follows in the footsteps of “Silhouette” from Periphery V as a synth-pop-leaning earworm, but its most compelling moment is an expansive IDM-influenced middle section where synth washes and digital percussion fully take over. The titular closing track is another quiet highlight, built around a delicate acoustic guitar melody wrapped in subtle electronic atmosphere. There are other standout sections, like the wisteria-tinged progression of “Neon Valley’s” chorus or the emotional guitar solo of “Everyone Dies Alone.” These highs serve as memorable moments that anchor repeat listens, even if no single track quite reaches the heights of the band’s very best work.

A Pale White Dot is an album that’s easy to admire on a craftsmanship level, but hard for me to connect with. Periphery remain highly accomplished musicians and effective songwriters. As a fan of their style, there are still plenty of moments and tracks to enjoy throughout. At the same time, this record marks a noticeable streamlining of their sound, trading much of their trademark progressiveness and technical intricacy for more straightforward material that sits closer to contemporary metalcore than much of their earlier work. It’s far from bad, but I’d be hard-pressed to pick it over any other Periphery album.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: N/A | Format Reviewed: Stream to end all streams
Label: 3Dot Recordings
Websites: periphery.net | facebook.com/PeripheryBand
Releases Worldwide: May 15th, 2026

#25 #2026 #3DotRecordings #APaleWhiteDot #AmericanMetal #Djent #May26 #Metalcore #Periphery #ProgressiveMetal #ProgressiveMetalcore #Review #Reviews #SleepToken #Spiritbox

Psyclops – Bound to Burn: Melody of the Martyr Review By Andy-War-Hall

Psyclops—Portland, Oregon’s progressive metal genre-benders—have some nerve coming my way. I know in my heart of hearts that in writing “their” new record, Bound to Burn: Melody of the Martyr, they committed psychic plagiarism against me and stole the progressive death metal concept album I outlined years ago. A sun-baked Earth struggling to survive? My set-up! A wanderer searching for hope and imbued with religious allusion? My protagonist! A chance encounter with a water deity that brings them to a wellspring of pure, untouched water? More or less my idea! Psyclops just cut out my cannibal gangs and digs against Elon Musk, the hacks. Admittedly, they commissioned a comic book to coincide with Bound to Burn, which I didn’t think of…but very well could’ve!1 I was just waiting to get good at music before recording it, you bastards!2 But in this egregious act of unmitigated gall, does Psyclops’ Bound to Burn rip me off effectively and enjoyably, at least?

Psyclops just make prog look easy on Bound to Burn: Melody of the Martyr. Taking a page from the Rush playbook, Psyclops play technically demanding and rhythmically dense progressive music in the vein of Between the Buried and Me and Opeth while keeping their songs mostly immediate and accessible. The three-song “Consequences” segue sees Psyclops bouncing between odd, frantic rhythms while sounding as natural as if it were all 4/4, while the “Manifest” trilogy showcases Bound to Burn’s most diverse guitarwork that dazzles without devolving into wankery. “Presence from Beyond” and “Clarity” see awkward vocal intervals and off-kilter riffing, respectively, that make for effortless earworms, and “Begin Anew”‘s guitar arpeggios sound symphonic in a very understated way while rocking out in an uncomplicated fashion. Further, Psyclops swing with some heft with juiced-up, low-end heavy riffing and punchy drums highlighted on the “Indomitable” segue and a crushing death vocal presence established in opener “The Explorer-Errant.” Heavy and catchy, technical and immediate, Bound to Burn is bound to please most any prog fan.

Psyclops’ knack for lean, diverse songwriting brings home the bacon. At thirty-three minutes, Bound to Burn has a story to tell and Psyclops hustle between movements and songs without wasting time on interludes or masturbatory noodling. Crystalline, clean, and plodding doom guitars on “The Explorer-Errant” give way to jagged, Xoth-like riffs and solos on “Consequences I. The Instinct to Survive,” while “Manifest I. Seeing Is Believing” opens the segue with Devin Townsend-like harmonies and progression, only to close out with “Manifest III. The Ouroboros Chorus”‘s Thank You Scientist swinging prog goofiness. The spirit of Mastodon haunts a lot of Bound to Burn as well, particularly in the moody, Crack the Skye-like trippiness of “Presence from Beyond” and the Emperor of Sandesque rock soloing closing out “Manifest II. Warranted Transgression.” Psyclops package all of these influences, moods, and approaches in a way that feels totally cohesive and trimmed of all excess. Bound to Burn is here for a good time, not a long one.

With Bound to Burn: Melody of the Martyr, Psyclops constructed the Anti-Playlist Album. Singled out, individual tracks on Bound to Burn don’t hold up, bearing truncated runtimes and rarely sounding whole alone. But taken altogether, Psyclop’s singular vision comes through. Bound to Burn establishes character motivation quickly and effectively with “The Explorer-Errant,” conflict soon after with “Consequences II” and “III,” and a call to action with “Clarity” that carries Bound to Burn’s plot smoothly right to the end. “Manifest III” and “Begin Anew” feel somewhat rushed in closing the album, and Psyclops could’ve spent more time in those songs to drive it home, but that’s Bound to Burn’s only pacing hiccup. Song transitions are completely seamless on Bound to Burn; with how natural every movement flows into the next, Psyclops could have designated the whole thing as one song, à la Crimson or Winter’s Gate. Simply, Bound to Burn cannot be appreciated or enjoyed fully without being taken in as a whole, and Psyclops facilitates that fact with perfect narrative flow and sequencing.

Psyclops are on my ever-expanding shit list, not because they stole my album but because they did it better than me. Way better. Bound to Burn: Melody of the Martyr is an adventurous, refreshing, and forward-thinking work of music and fiction sure to please prog fans of every stripe. Psyclops hit quick, hit hard, and left me wanting more in the end. Bound to Burn isn’t perfect, but there’s very little to complain about either. But the sequel better have some cannibal gangs.3

Rating: Great
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: WAV
Label: Self-Release
Websites: psyclopsmusic.com | psyclopspdx.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/psyclopspdx
Releases Worldwide: May 22nd, 2026

#2026 #40 #AmericanMetal #BetweenTheBuriedAndMe #BoundToBurnMelodyOfTheMartyr #CoheedAndCambria #DeathMetal #DevinTownsend #Mastodon #May26 #Opeth #ProgressiveMetal #ProgressiveRock #Psyclops #Review #Reviews #Rush #SelfReleased #ThankYouScientist #Xoth

Restless Spirit – Restless Spirit Review By Steel Druhm

When one thinks of Long Island, stoner doom may not be the first musical variant that comes to mind. Restless Spirit have been out to change that since 2015, dropping several EPs and 3 long players of massive, weighty music with toes in the pools frequented by Mastodon, C.O.C., and The Sword. 2023s Afterimage was a great album crushed beneath a disastrous production that made enjoyment nigh impossible. Now comes their self-titled 4th album and a bit of a course correction. It’s a lighter, more rocking effort with a sense of brightness and wistfulness embedded in the burly, beefy sound. It’s still something entirely well-suited for a biker bar, but what Restless Spirit does is put them in the same ballpark as acts like Clutch, Fireball Ministry, and Freedom Hawk, and just in time for summer sun and outdoor beer drinking. How could that be a bad thing?

The things I love about Restless Spirit are still here, as opening track “The Burning Need” ably illustrates. It’s slick, bluesy, hard rock in the vein of C.O.C. with big riffs and feedback backing up Paul Alosio’s big, soulful bellows. It’s groovy, crunchy stuff with balls aplenty and a chorus that really pops and sticks in the craw, and you’d be forgiven for thinking this came from some southern crew rather than 3 guys from New York. The goods keep coming on “Hallowed,” which is a bit more spacey and moody, but the hooks are there, and the riffs do most of the talking, as they should. There’s a vintage Monster Magnet vibe in its DNA, and the guitar work is quite agile and interesting, with moments of introspective melancholy effectively stirred into the brew. “Desolations Wake” is a big moment, taking a rocked-out, rowdy approach to entertainingly punchy places with hard-charging guitar work that reminds a lot of Freedom Hawk. It’s got enough machismo to put extra hair on your nethers and make you want to punch a boulder. This one is heading right to my fun in the sun playlist with a bullet.

Unfortunately, not everything Restless Spirit attempts is a home run, and while nothing here is bad, cuts like “Red in Tooth and Claw” feel a bit more generic and safe. While the nearly 7 minutes of “Time and Distance” pass pretty well thanks to the powerhouse guitar work and forceful vocals, it does feel a bit overlong by the end. The nearly 9-minute closer, “Phantom Pain,” features a 70s psych-rock flavor that reminds me of Wino’s solo material, and the laid-back, emotive guitars pair well with the rougher, heavy riffs. But the length isn’t entirely justified, and by the 6th minute, things start to feel too stretched out. At just over 40 minutes, tracks like these make Restless Spirit feel longer than it really is, despite a good amount of interesting ideas and solid performances across the board. On the good side, the production is vastly better than last time, feeling warm and bright. The guitars have the proper weight, and the drum sound is satisfyingly deep.

The center of the Restless Spirit universe is Paul Alosio. His riffs and emotive fretboarding provide the foundation for everything, and he’s quite adept at crafting powerful, sinuous leads that grab your attention. Since this kind of music lives and dies by the riffs, he’s the prime mover, and move you he will as he dabbles in 70s rock and borrows from the expected wellsprings like Black Sabbath and Kyuss. He pairs his leads with an effectively rough but melodic vocal approach, and he’s at his best here, delivering with gravitas and soul. Marc Morello backs him up with thick, fat basslines that rumble and quake in all the best ways, while kitman Jon Gusman pounds away with abandon and a keen sense of groove. This is a talented trio, but their mostly good works get partially undermined by occasionally inconsistent writing and a bloat outbreak on the album’s ass-end.

Restless Spirit is a lesser creature than Afterimage and Blood of the Old Gods, but when it hits the mark, it will leave a deep impression on your ears. It’s worth checking out though, and I’m still a big believer in what the future holds for Restless Spirit. Talent abides, and spirits lurk endlessly, after all. Hail the Isle of Long!

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Magnetic Eye
Websites: restlessspirit.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/restlessspiritny | instagram.com/restlessspirit
Releases Worldwide: May 8th, 2026

#2026 #30 #AmericanMetal #CorrosionOfConformity #DoomMetal #FreedomHawk #MagneticEyeRecords #May26 #RestlessSpirit #Review #Reviews #StonerRock

Jungle Rot – Cruel Face of War Review By Grin Reaper

After four years of studio silence, Kenoshan cavemen Jungle Rot emerge from the bush with twelfth platter, Cruel Face of War. For the uninitiated, Jungle Rot plays groovy death metal that’s hostile, bludgeoning, and never dares to overthink anything. Their output has been more reliable than our coverage, and reviewing every other album since 2011’s Kill on Command, each has earned a ‘Mixed’ rating. Interestingly, the two albums we missed reviewing, Terror Regime and Jungle Rot, are the best of that group, particularly their self-titled effort. Now faced with our first consecutive Jungle Rot evaluation, can Cruel Face of War break the mold, or does it run through the Jungle on cruise control?

‘Consistency is key’ perseveres as a pillar of advice I mete out and live by,1 and this lesson sticks with Jungle Rot like flies on a decomposing carcass. After three decades of mouth-breathing death jams, the band still delivers freshly forged OSDM every two to four years that reeks of Obituary and Bolt Thrower. While the hardcore and deathcore vestiges have diminished,2 trace amounts of Hatebreed and Slaughter to Prevail lurk within Jungle Rot’s fetid funk, especially Dave Matrise’s vocals. To be fair, any fluctuations in their sound become conversations of degrees, and since Fueled by Hate dropped in 2004, Jungle Rot has been lodged in a groove so deep they haven’t pulled out from it yet.

Jungle Rot sounds best when they inject a bit of melody into their formula, and those crumbs unerringly serve as the best morsels on Cruel Face of War. Maybe that’s because only those moments break up the monotony of an otherwise wearisome chuggathon, where an unvarying landscape of riffs and grooves blur together into an indistinct sea of homogenous death metal. For instance, the riffs on “When the Elders Rise” and “Rot Riffs” carry just enough character to help differentiate themselves from the rest of the pack, but otherwise, I can’t distinguish between most others without playing them back-to-back. To Jungle Rot’s credit, they possess a sound uniquely their own. But like a painter who only uses a single color, they lock themselves into a self-imposed prison of uniformity that undercuts any notion of tension or contrast.

Despite the detractors, Jungle Rot’s adherence to convention pays dividends as well. Pit-ready grooves and stank-inducing verses make great fodder for good ol’ fashioned head-banging, and while the simplicity limits Cruel Face of War’s upside, it also ensures a stable foundation to build upon. Regarding pacing, Jungle Rot plays with two speeds: a menacing, mid-paced skulk and a faster, more predatory trot. Though they never commit to woebegone plods or balls-out blitzes, there’s just enough variety to keep things engaging without moving too far away from Jungle Rot’s established sonic ideal. Additionally, Cruel Face of War merits praise for the efficient yet expressive solos, particularly on “Cruel Face of War” and “Horrors Vile,” with Geoff Bub and David Matrise credited for guitars.3 Bassist James Genenz rumbles and groans alongside, supplying a meaty dimension to Cruel Face of War, and drummer Spenser Syphers pounds and pummels as needed. Dan “The Man” Swanö even handles mixing and mastering, granting the immediate boost he bestows to nearly everything he touches.

Cruel Face of War never outright errs, yet Jungle Rot proves so reticent to stray from the path oft-traveled that I wonder why they recorded new material. Jungle Rot felt like a promising step forward, infusing wicked melodies into the band’s brutish brand of death metal. Since then, Jungle Rot seems content to churn out mildly different flavors of the same core recipe with rapidly diminishing returns. After thirty years of staying the course, I’m not hopeful that Jungle Rot will venture into unfamiliar territory, but without stepping outside their comfort zone, I don’t foresee them bursting free from their Jungle Rut.

Rating: Disappointing
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 224 kbps mp3
Label: Unique Leader Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: May 15th, 20264

#20 #2026 #AmericanMetal #BoltThrower #CruelFaceOfWar #DeathMetal #Hatebreed #JungleRot #May26 #Obituary #Review #Reviews #SlaughterToPrevail #UniqueLeaderRecords

Frozen Soul – No Place of Warmth Review By Kenstrosity

Texan five-banger Frozen Soul crept into my promo pile back in 2021 with their glacially imposing Crypt of Ice. Unfortunately, I missed covering the improved follow-up Glacial Domination properly, relegating it to a Filter blurb instead. But that’s no excuse for Century Media to withhold No Place of Warmth from me when it was time. No matter, because Frozen Soul deserve a full-bodied tongue bath from this hot-blooded sponge, and I intend to give it with great relish.

The Frozen Soul formula carries over into No Place of Warmth, but evolves incrementally just as Glacial Domination did three years prior. As these homo glaciali continue their ascent into a full upright stance, their Bolt Thrower-meets-Sanguisugabogg-meets-Rotpit riff orgy enters a new realm of ferocity, carrying a murderous momentum and relentless grooves across a dick-skin-tight 35 minutes. Vocalist Chad Green puts down a vicious performance of caveman roars, rancid rasps, and infectious barks. Matt Dennard pounds the mammoth skins with a single-minded bludgeoning that oozes blood, pus, and attitude. Bassist Samantha Mobley, always rumbling beneath these well-tread tundras, anchors the affair in muscular heft and scalpel precision (though the unforgiving compression in the mix makes her great work difficult to make out in many listening environments). Most importantly, however, are guitarists Chris Bonner’s and Michael Munday’s unflappable riffs and infectious hooks. Familiar perhaps to a fault but nonetheless brutally effective, Frozen Soul’s guitar work crests a summit on No Place of Warmth, generating heaps of energy with minimal tooling and using it to slam skulls into each other with devastating impact.

What more could you ask for in a stripped-down, meat-and-potatoes death metal record? A better mix, sure, but not much else. “Invoke War (ft. Machine Head)” brings Bolt Thrower aggression, anvils, and icepicks to my cranium with cold prejudice, leaving me a drooling mess whose only joy in life demands MOAR RIFFS. Thankfully, the slamtastic “Absolute Zero,” “Dreadnought (ft. Sanguisugabogg),” and “Skinned by the Wind,” along with mid-paced stompers “Chaos Will Reign,” “DEATHWEAVER,” and “Frost Forged” shoot overdoses of riff-laced adrenaline directly into my veins, reducing me to animalistic mindlessness. As that progresses, the urge to zoom becomes a new inconvenience in daily life, but Frozen Soul prepared for that. Rippers “No Place of Warmth (ft. Gerard Way),” “Eyes of Despair,” “Ethereal Dreams,” and “Killin Time (Until It’s Time to Kill)” roar and rage through flesh and bone with sleazy grooves that fit right at home at any local bar brawl, giving my overflowing energy reserves an outlet through fist and boot.

You might notice a rare occurrence in the preceding paragraph: I highlighted every song on No Place of Warmth to extol their virtues. This was no accident, as every track has something memorable and engaging to take away, but No Place of Warmth isn’t perfect. As mentioned earlier, No Place of Warmth is crushed pretty heavily. Consequently, Samantha’s bass struggles for audibility—despite offering ample textural heft—behind chunky guitars and ferocious roars. With a little less compression and a few tweaks to instrumental positioning, her input would be heard more fully and thereby make even greater impact. Additionally, Matt Dennard’s bass kick feels a bit plastic, creating a bit of tactile unpleasantness during initial spins. In other areas, the album’s various guest spots don’t stand out as distinctly as a guest spot should. It took a few spins to nail down Machine Head’s contributions to “Invoke War,” especially, and Gerard Way’s unexpected blackened rasps deserve greater presence, too. I still can’t confidently pick out Sanguisugabogg in “Dreadnought,” though it is a killer tune. As a criticism, this mostly points to a thoughtfulness in features that Frozen Soul neglected, but that they might easily rectify with more intentional writing that gives those features more significance and definition going forward.

All told, No Place of Warmth is more than just rock-solid Bolt Thrower worship. It is a consistently entertaining record tailor-made to ensure gains in the gym, incite massive mosh pits in any given venue, and cause spinal trauma to any receptive passers-by. It’s nothing new, and nothing groundbreaking, but its tectonic grooves and boundless vitality crack the crust regardless. Should you be in need of more quality death metal this year—and we all know you can never have too much—No Place of Warmth is a worthy part of a balanced breakfast rotation.

Rating: Very Good!
DR: 4 | Format Reviewed: PCM
Label: Century Media Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Official | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: May 8th, 2026

#2026 #35 #AmericanMetal #BoltThrower #CenturyMediaRecords #DeathMetal #FrozenSoul #May26 #NoPlaceOfWarmth #Review #Reviews #Rotpit #Sanguisugabogg #Slam

Panopticon – Det Hjemsøkte Hjertet Review By Thus Spoke

What feelings come with an ending? Grief? Gratitude? Hope? As the Laurentian Trilogy comes to a close with Det Hjemsøkte Hjertet,1 the reflections on things passed which each album casts in a different light are at their most poignant. Panopticon turns from personal catharsis (…And Again into the Light) to metaphorical mirroring of individual crisis with that which devastates the natural world (The Rime of Memory), and now the very fabric of every one of us as people—bound inextricably to our experiences and environment. Mourning the loss of a loved one; memories of a people left behind by industrialisation; vanished caribou who once roamed the forests and the trees that grew old before the saw; a losing battle with time; isolation, love, joy. These fragmented, vivid, impressions of The Haunted Heart masterfully draw together an opus as potent musically as it is emotionally, five years almost to the date since it began.

Det Hjemsøkte Hjertet’s conclusiveness is tangible, its every note suffused with nostalgia and closure—even opener, “Woodland Caribou,” feels like a resolution. Drums boil and crash with anguish, tremolos are effervescent with feeling, and strings are more prominent and more stirring than ever before. But even in its finality of reprising themes and devastating climaxes, Det Hjemsøkte Hjertet reveals that everything does not truly end after all. With a chorus of guest vocalists,2 Austin Lunn tells a story of a life coming to a close in chapters that reflect not only on one person’s experiences, but those of a culture and a wilderness extending beyond them. It’s the most immediate Panopticon has ever been: lacking any preamble, moving faster and with assured ardour through every blackened arc, reaching deeper into your soul with every singing string refrain. Det Hjemsøkte Hjertet sees an infusion of characteristic folk, black metal, and magical atmosphere in a way that’s at once so heart-wrenchingly intimate and viscerally overwhelming it can hardly be described as less than perfection.

From the moment it begins, Det Hjemsøkte Hjertet has hold of you, most strikingly because of how breath-catchingly gorgeous it is. Some of the saddest, most profound melodies of Panopticon’s career (“Woodland Caribou,” “Blood and Fur Upon the Melting Snow,” “Ghost Eyes in the Firelight”) combine with some of the wildest (“The Great Silence, Extinct,” “The White Cedars,” “A Culture of Wilderness”). Even the heaviest moments dazzle in their dissonant devastation with mournful urgency (“The Great Silence…,” “A Culture…”). But what takes this beauty and rage into transcendence is how these tides of emotion are so tightly wound together, referencing one another, the refrains of The Laurentian Trilogy, and even all of Panopticon up until this moment. The soft sigh of a violin refrain (“Woodland Caribou”) sobs in precipitating a mid-album climax (“Blood and Fur…”), and the dancing tremolo-string swoops of “The Great Silence…” are mirrored in “Blood and Fur,…” and “The White Cedars.” The shuddering heaviness of “A Culture…” reawakens the gravity of “Moth-Eaten Soul”3 while untamed exuberance (“A Culture…,” “Blood and Fur…”) revives “An Autumn Storm”4 and the spirit of Roads to the North, and flute—accompanied only by the crackling of a fire—brings the acoustic introspection of the trilogy firmly to the forefront (“Lyset”).

But it’s the final act, “Ghost Eyes in the Firelight,” that pulls these threads—and one’s heartstrings—taut. Gracefully drawing in the elements from throughout the trilogy, it then softly and assuredly builds to a conclusion that hums ever more with familiarity. As the shimmering tremolos rise to a steady beat, you realise it’s the central theme of “…And Again into the Light” lifting upwards on their featherlight wings. All the lyrics on Det Hjemsøkte Hjertet sing with poignancy, but in this ascent that poignancy peaks,

The light from the window fades like the winter recently past.
Free of this mortal coil, free at last.
A slight pain in his chest grew as he laid down upon the melting snow.
Gazing upward into the night sky, he closed his eyes to the dark night,
but behind the blackness of his eyelids,
the stars remained
but behind the blackness of his eyelids,
the stars remained

…and again into the light

As cymbals judder and guitars perform a final flourish, the haunting calls of loons signal the completion of this circle, the spilling in of the light to the serenade of violins to a devastating reprise, filling your chest with its warmth and your eyes with tears.5 A more perfect way to end things could not exist. My heart clings longingly to the place evoked by Det Hjemsøkte Hjertet‘s consuming atmosphere and touching humanity. I cry with the empathy of its creator, crying for time gone, for those no longer here, for the lost wilderness, for the empty homes and hearts and the silent forests. But I also cry with a kind of transcendent joy. Because in closing, things begin anew. Just as the final whining strings lead into the beginning of …And Again into the Light, they blur too into that of “Woodland Caribou.” A ring, the renewal of hope. The darkness does not last. The fire will not burn out.

Rating: Iconic
DR: ? | Format Reviewed: Stream
Label: Bindrune Recordings | Nordvis Productions
Websites: Bandcamp | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: May 8th, 2026

#2026 #50 #AmericanMetal #AtmosphericBlackMetal #BindruneRecordings #BlackMetal #DetHjemsøkteHjertet #Folk #May26 #NordvisProduktion #Panopticon #RABM #Review #Reviews