Behölder – In the Temple of the Tyrant Review

By Steel Druhm

When members of various obscure power and prog metal bands like Shadowdance and Chaos Frame managed to recruit Judicator’s John Yelland for an epic doom project heavily inspired by Dungeons & Dragons, Steel was unable to resist hearing the results. So he took a flyer on Behölder and their In the Temple of the Tyrant debut and hoped for good doom things. Would it be utter cheese and need a high-level necromancer to save it? Would it be a rousing, sword-swinging platter or Iron Age heroics? As it turns out, In the Temple of the Tyrant is more like Crypt Sermon mixed with a modest dose of Hammerfall-esque power and seasoned with the muscular machismo of Eternal Champion. Does the sound of that meaty broth get your sword rising? Me too. Let’s fight!

The best way to open an epic doom album is with some hefty epic doom, and Behölder does just that with “A Pale Blood Sky.” It’s very Crypt Sermon / Candlemassive, with big, crunchy doom riffs and slick melodic trills. Yellen’s powerful and enthusiastic delivery rounds out the doom enchilada excellently, taking us on a trip through dark crypts and creepy vistas. It’s the kind of doom I eat up like candied bacon, and I love this tune muchly. It’s powerful, but oh so accessible and entertaining, and shows that these cats know their chosen genre very well. “Eyes of the Deep” is another killer, with a strong Eternal Champion vibe. Tomi Joutsen of Amorphis shows up on the back end to drop immense death roars that take the song to the next level and everything is slick and compelling as fook. “For Those Who Fell” is like the glorious Hammerfall power ballads of old (their first 2 albums) and it sucks you in and keeps you hanging on. “Draconian (Slave or Master)” is a ridiculously hooky cut elevated to glorious heights by Yellan’s epical vocals. You will not forget the chorus, and it will haunt you onto death. This one has Song o’ the Year written all over it, folks.

While the highs on the album are very high, there are a few tracks that can’t scale the same summit. “Dungeon Master” is just okay and overly tongue-in-cheek as it takes the perspective of those master nerd game planners a bit too seriously. It doesn’t vibe well with the huge epic doom flavor of the surrounding tracks and takes you out of that headspace. Closer “I Magus” is also a bit underbaked. It’s plenty riffy with a Sanctuary / Nevermore vibe, but it never gets rolling into high gear. Likewise, “Summoned & Bound” trods on the path to greatness laid out by classic Candlemass, but it never completes the journey, becoming somewhat unsatisfying by the end. No song is completely unworthy, however, and as a cohesive album, this thing is a whole lotta fun from start to finish.

John Yellan is the star of the show here, with his vocals elevating the material several notches. On the best stuff, he takes it to the house, bringing poise and grace to the doom show. He manages to keep his performance restrained and doesn’t overdo things, nor does he rely on high-pitched wailing to emphasize the dramatic bits. He gives the songs just the right amount of power and poise and does a great job throughout. Founder and band mastermind Carlos Alvarez, along with Matt Hodson of Chaos Frame, bring a healthy selection of large doom leads and stirring solos, while dabbling in plenty of traditional and power metal spaces along the way. I like their work best when they stay in the Candlemass / Crypt Sermon vein, but I can’t argue one bit with departures like “Draconian (Slave or Master).”

Behölder have chops across the board, and when their writing comes together, you get great tunes full of nods to genre masters. If the writing was a touch more consistent, this would be my first 4.0 of 2025, but In the Temple of the Tyrant falls a bit short of those lofty heights. Yet there are several songs that could end up as my Song o’ the Year, and that’s saying something about the strength of this googly-eyed floating beast. Roll the dice, hear this, find the moments that thrill your inner warrior. Swords up for Behölder!

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Black Lion
Websites: beholderblacklion.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/beholderdoom
Releases Worldwide: April 25th, 2025

#2025 #35 #AmericanMetal #Apr25 #Behölder #BlackLionRecords #Candlemass #CryptSermon #EpicDoomMetal #EternalChampion #Hammerfall #HeavyMetal #InTheTempleOfTheTyrant #Judicator #Review #Reviews #Sorcerer

Machine Head – UnatØNed Review

By Dr. A.N. Grier

If you take a step back—maybe a big one—Machine Head’s career is a rollercoaster ride through hell. And not always in a good way. After getting off to a good start and dropping two of their best records, dark clouds began to gather. The Burning Red rain came down on our heads, and the floods of the Supercharger drove torrents of radio-friendly, rap-metal destruction through the streets. Yet, they overcame and rebuilt, marching Through the Ashes of Empires and, “Clenching the Fists of Dissent,” putting The Blackening on “From This Day” forever. Or so we thought. After riding Unto the Locust, they arrived at a village where they purchased Bloodstone & Diamonds. But they were fake bullshit and the band got pissed. So they decided to unleash a Catharsis on diamond sellers everywhere. But they became “Volatile,” “Psychotic” “Bastards.” Plus, their Goodwill “Triple Beam” broke. So, two of their members left to look for wenches and beer while the others pushed on. ØF KingdØM and CrØWn, these two would not give up—even when all hoped they would. They pushed on, feeling their sins should remain UnatØNed, regardless of what anyone thinks. Someone find me a fucking priest!

While this year’s UnatØNed continues the stupid trend set by ØF KingdØM and CrØWn, using o’s with a stroke in their song titles, that previous album was a step up (though not by much) from Catharsis. While Catharsis was a vicious attack on the band’s fanbase, ØF KingdØM and CrØWn proved the band still had new ideas to put on tape. They also somehow convinced the mighty Vogg to contribute to the album’s guitar harmonies and dueling solos. They probably promised him wenches and beer. While the boat has not been set right since The Blackening, there was at least some positivity in the outcome. Without a concept or direction to drive UnatØNed, we are subject to twelve tracks and an hour of music written for Spotify playlists. Outside of the useless opener, the sad boi closer, and the stupid, mid-album instrumental, you can expect the verse-chorus-verse-chorus-dosomethingboring-chorus approach this time around. So, let’s get this over with.

After thirty seconds of pure boredom, “AtØMic RevelatiØNs” finally charges out of the gates in a surprising way. Not only is it one of the heaviest songs the band has penned in the last decade, but it actually got my air guitar going. It also uses a low, clean vocal approach with backing support to build this melodic beauty. Another bruiser that surfaces above the rest is “BØNescraper.” Though it uses those odd oooo’s from ØF KingdØM and CrØWn’s “My Hands Are Empty,” it has a crushing charge that builds up to the chorus nicely—even if said chorus sounds like Fozzy. You’ll also get a chuckle from the classic “Let freedom ring with a shotgun” vocal approach, but this time it’s, “Love is a loaded gun.” The award for most radio-friendly goes to “ØUtsider.” This annoying track is so undeniably catchy that it makes me both loathe and vehemently hate myself for liking it.

Now, let’s get to the part we all knew was coming. “Addicted tØ Pain” has to be one of the most boring tracks the band has released in a long time. It goes absolutely nowhere during its three-minute runtime and uses half-assed Trivium riffs for inspiration. It also contains some of the most cringeworthy lyrics on the album.1 The follow-up track, “Bleeding Me Dry,” is another that lacks any real soul. While the clean vocals swim sweetly through the effects-infused atmosphere, the rest of the song pounds away with outdated, early-2000s chuggery. This song also includes those death growls they’ve been experimenting with that, to this day, still don’t work. Lastly, I don’t even know what the fuck “Shards ØF Shattered Dreams” is trying to do. The chorus is a melodic delight that would shine higher if it wasn’t contemplating suicide as the out-of-place “speed” licks surround it. The worst part is that all these songs exist on the album’s backside, completely draining it of life.

With solid cuts in the front and lazy ones in the back, UnatØNed is an unbalanced mish-mash of singles and filler pieces. I hate to say it, and no one wants to hear it, but UnatØNed would have been a decent EP. Thankfully, this new record is better than Catharsis. I’m not sure I can survive another review like that again. For those who like the newer sound of Machine Head and stand confused as shows when they play “Davidian,” UnatØNed is probably for you. For those of us who walk out thirty seconds into “Crashing Around You,” it’s best to stay clear.

Rating: 2.0/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 256 kb/s mp3
Label: Nuclear Blast Records
Websites: machinehead1.com | facebook.com/machinehead
Releases Worldwide: April 25th, 2025

#20 #2025 #AmericanMetal #Apr25 #Fozzy #GrooveMetal #MachineHead #NuclearBlast #Review #Reviews #Trivium #UnatØNed

Collapsed Vein – Pain Communion Review

By Thus Spoke

Not being an Opeth fan,1 I know it can’t just be me who reads Pain Communion as a deliberate riff on Pale Communion. The debut from Kevin George’s solo endeavour Collapsed Vein, however, seems to have absolutely nothing to do with the famous Swedes and their famous album, though that doesn’t mean it wasn’t named deliberately. It’s rare that doom not preceded by the adjective “funeral” or which isn’t otherwise explicitly DisemBOWELment-coded ignites any excitement within me, but Pain Communion seemed promising. A cool, respectably occult cover, combined with cited influence from as disparate styles as Triptykon and Neurosis, and the interest-tickling use of the word “oppressive” as descriptor. On this and the solidity of single “Children of God,” I was in.

Pain Communion offers a death-doom that channels a blend of interpretations, without really sounding exactly like any in particular, thanks to the frequent and prominent coinciding use of organs, ambience, and a very vague side-eye at disso-death. However, there is a dominant pattern here, and it goes beyond the established conventions of the genre. A mid-tempo (for doom) stalk, grounding one main riff progression that goes through a key change at intervals, and organ chords providing backup. Sometimes things take a more atmospheric turn, with post-metal liquidity (“Deviant Burial,” “Inevitable End”) or disso-death mystique (“May Your Name Still Endure,” “Invictus”) opening songs or serving as bridges within them. These latter aspects are by far the most interesting and add greatly-needed zhuzh to the solid but formulaic death-doom.

But let it not be said that Collapsed Vein can’t write a memorable melody; there are several that continue to float through my brain on the regular (“Pissgrave,” “Inevitable End”). The integration of resonant ambience, and sinister dissonance leads to some powerfully dark and grandiose moments as riffs pick up the theme (“Deviant Burial”) or gain extra weight as they morph between classic doomy leadenness and unnerving urgency (“May Your Name Still Endure”). Pain Communion is also blessed by an unshakeable presence, thanks to the prevalence of organs, the frequent rise of ominous chorals, and reverb that drips off the chords and throaty growls alike. The way the roars echo across the chords is especially satisfying, and it’s even better when they pitch upwards into a long, incredibly gnarly scream (“Children of God,” “May Your Name Still Endure,” “Overwhelmed with Bereavement”). Though this is doom, there are some passages where the percussion climbs out of the steady plod and shows us some spine-tingling sparkle I normally go to more extreme metal to experience (“Invictus,” “The Devil’s Orchard”). Even the spoken-word works; possibly because it’s just below the clearly audible level, possible also because against the liturgical backdrop of grudge-filled guitars and organs and chants and atmosphere, the grey delivery plays like a black mass and it’s actually cool.

Beyond the skill, the undeniable heaviness, and the moments of chilling excitement, Pain Communion suffers a little from uncomfortable predictability and a frustrating restraint. More often than not, the spell of a brilliant, moody intro is broken by a resurgence of the recurring chug and chime of riffs and organ that blast away the melancholy melody and replace it with something plainer (“May Your…” “Inevitable End,” “Invictus”). Collapsed Vein also seems reticent to let go of the dominating structure of songs, where percussive flourish and ambient, discordant depth give way rapidly to a measured tread, and a blunter heft. It means that in spite of the consistent appearance of excellence, the album begins to wear on the listener, and one loses patience to appreciate those moments as time ticks towards the hour mark. More’s the pity, since Pain Communion ends on a brilliant, characterful cover of Black Sabbath’s “Eternal Idol.”

As harsh as I may have been, I can’t denigrate the talent and potential that courses through Pain Communion. Not only suffused with atmosphere, and satisfyingly stodgy, it has personality. I wish Collapsed Vein would lean a little more into their mysterious side and turn up the ambient, dissonant, strangeness, but there’s time yet. This won’t be the last you hear from them.

Rating: Good
DR: ? | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Self-Release
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: April 18th, 2025

#2025 #30 #AmericanMetal #Apr25 #CollapsedVein #DeathDoom #DeathMetal #DoomMetal #PainCommunion #Review #Reviews #SelfReleased #Tryptykon

Cruce Signatus – II Review

By Eldritch Elitist

One of the scant morsels of criticism I offered to Pillaging Villagers’ self-titled 2022 opus was not explicitly aimed at the record itself, but rather at my perceived longevity of the project. David Frazer’s first solo outing, while a blast to spin to this day, feels like something best suited as a one-off excursion. For this reason, I approached his follow-up project, the instrumental metal/synthwave/electronic mashup that is Cruce Signatus, with a grain of skepticism. From day one, Frazer planned Cruce Signatus as a four-act experience, and for as much as I enjoyed its first volume, it again engendered a nagging sense of doubt as to its shelf life. By its end, the self-titled debut painstakingly explores seemingly every corner of its hyper-specific vision of cinematic metallo-electro-neo-baroque-wave. For this project to truly grow, Frazer would need to up the stakes through an expanded scope, elevated drama, and a broadened emotional palette. Less than a year on from its predecessor, II has done precisely that.

My chief criticisms of Cruce Signatus were levied at its lack of variety in both tone and tempo, and II goes so hard in addressing the former that it somehow absolves itself of the latter. II does feature a handful of tempo shake-ups in its back third, but the record so often drastically departs from its predecessor’s uniformly villainous tone as to not really need them. Opener “Conversio Militiae – Viam Justorum” debuts in expected fashion, all dramatic chords and ascending arpeggios invoking a classical idea of Hell, before gracefully pivoting into a movement that I can only describe as “1990’s JRPG End Credits Theme”-core. Swaths of II feel overtly uplifting, and even when it doesn’t, tracks like “Milites Christi II – Gesta Francorum” are so whimsical and dynamic as to substantially differentiate this record from Cruce Signatus’ first act. Simultaneously, II feels so loyal to Cruce Signatus’ established identity that no one could mistake it for a project under any other name. As an expansion of that identity, II is revelatory.

II is full of unexpected victories for a project with an already impressive foundation, with one of the most surprising being just how well it succeeds as a standalone experience. Cruce Signatus’ first act split the difference between soundtrack and traditional album in its construction, and while II retains the soundtrack vibes, its individual tracks feel more self-contained. Each has a distinct identity, resulting in a tonal trajectory that gives the record a pronounced overarching structure akin to a classic “hero’s journey” narrative. While the mid-album cuts (namely “Milites Christi” I & II) feel gritty and combative, the bookends exhibit neon-drenched euphoria, with the massive closing track “Poena” making for what feels like the most gratifying possible conclusion at the end of the journey, ominous stinger foreshadowing Act III notwithstanding.

Beyond Cruce Signatus’ structural and tonal innovations, II just straight up fucking jams. While bearing plenty of introspective moments, II represents an exponentially more energetic, almost power metal-fied take on this project’s sound over its predecessor, which is honestly difficult to wrap my head around considering that it’s also unquestionably the more varied of the two records. It helps, then, that II’s high-end feels notably less shrill than that of Cruce Signatus’ debut, though parts of “Pro Emendatione Malefactorum” occasionally grate through loftily ambitious reprisal. I do find that the overall mix feels less punchy and impactful this time around, but as the electronic soundscape remains lush and engaging, minor production gripes hardly detract from the experience.

II is such an impressive evolutionary leap for Cruce Signatus that even its micro adjustments impress. That each track now naturally blends into the next, eschewing the debut’s odd fades to total silence, is nearly as strong a signal of this project’s growth as its bold leaps into unprecedented emotional territory. Moreover, II fully assures me that this project has more than enough juice to play out its full, four-act structure. If Frazer’s ambitions are this high halfway through, I’m ecstatic to hear where this project goes by its end. Just don’t wait until then to jump in, because II stands shoulder to shoulder with the best records of the burgeoning synth metal scene on its own merits. Oh, and I’ll retract what I said three years ago: I’ll take another three Pillaging Villagers records, please.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: PCM
Label: Self Release
Websites: crucesignatus.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/crucesignatusband
Releases Worldwide: April 4th, 2025

#2025 #40 #AmericanMetal #Apr25 #CruceSignatus #II #InstrumentalMetal #PillagingVillagers #Review #Reviews #SelfRelease #SynthMetal #Synthwave

Labyrinthine Heirs – Labyrinthine Heirs Review

By Tyme

Eclectic Texan quartet Labyrinthine Heirs is ready to float their self-titled debut album, partnered with I, Voidhanger Records, which has one of the most diverse rosters in the metalverse. All four musicians come from different musical walks of life, and given the label partner, I expected that the music on Labyrinthine Heirs would be off-kilter at a minimum. With Léon François Comerre’s excellent cover painting in view but very little to go on by way of Labyrinthine Heirs‘ history, I was intrigued by the promo blurb, which quoted vocalist Evan Sadler as saying, ‘The plan was to marry the sound of Touch and Go Records artists like The Jesus Lizard and Shellac with that of Celtic Frost and Virus.’ I was a big fan of Goat in the 90s and love Celtic Frost to this day, so I was excited to hear how Labyrinthine Heirs would attempt to pull this feat off.

Apropos and in keeping with I, Voidhanger tradition, the Labyrinthine Heirs‘ sound, an alternative mix of blackish death metal, presents a descriptive sticky wicket. Comparisons with The Jesus Lizard are valid here, and a fair amount of Written in Waters era Ved Buens Ende is at play.1 Samuel Kang’s (Cathexis) guitar work is distinctly crisp, full of plucky riffs (“Brick Refusers Quartered”), cascading shimmers of dissonance, and circusy leads (“The Loop of Human Flesh Told in Perpetuity”). In lock-step accompaniment is the slap-happy bass work of Bryan Camphire (ex Bloody Panda) and the understated drumming of Anthony Brownlow, all three creating a hypnotizing flow over which vocalist Evan Sadler can drape his raspy, spoken-word delivery. Labyrinthine Heirs certainly sounds impressive, but one of the problems with hypnosis is that the subject eventually falls asleep.

Colin Marston’s master of Labyrinthine Heirs is warm and inviting, highlighting the interplay between the guitars and rhythm section while providing enough wide, organic spaces to hear every separate instrument on its own and simultaneously. Like how a dog can smell each ingredient in that stew on your stovetop individually while still smelling the whole thing. The opening track, “Brick Refusers Quartered,” with the guitar and bass playfully splashing in puddles of dissonance, pulls you immediately into Labyrinthine Heirs‘ web and ushers you through the next thirty-seven minutes. Sadler strays from his go-to mono-rasp to bring some ear-catching dynamism in the form of screeching screams, vomits, chokes, and coughs (“The Loop of Human Flesh Told in Perpetuity,” “The Conceited Determination of Nimrod”) and this reminds me of the vocals from some of Nattefrost‘s nastier solo work at times. I was also thankful for these moments since they were some of the few to rouse me from my slumberous hypnosis.

Labyrinthine Heirs packs a fair number of ideas into Labyrinthine Heirs‘ five tracks.2 The biggest problem is that nearly every idea sounds the same. In its entirety, Labyrinthine Heirs never strays from the sonic palette introduced on the opening track. Nearly every time I arrived at the fifth and final song, “Yaldabaoth Gored to Blindness,” I was surprised to discover that almost 30 minutes of music had passed with nary a blip on my radar of interest to show for it, which brings us to the crux of my problem with Labyrinthine Heirs debut, and that is its overwhelming sense of similitude. All five songs suffer from reciprocating guitar techniques that, combined with the steady slap n’ tap bass, reserved drums, and raspily spoken lyrics, shroud the whole in a drone-like pall.

My relationship with I, Voidhanger, Records, is like a series of coin flips. There always seems to be a fifty-fifty chance I’ll enjoy what I hear or be equally content to let it pass. I’ve found many gems (Creature, Neptunian Maximalism, Yhdarl), to name a few, but I’ve discovered stinkers that balance the equation for each one. Labyrinthine Heirs may be deserving of their I, Voidhanger, roster spot. However, I don’t find this debut engaging enough to keep my attention, so I can’t fully recommend it. There are flashes on Labyrinthine Heirs that will have me on the lookout for its follow-up, but I prefer to pass on this.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 10 | Format Reviewed: 320kbps mp3
Label: I, Voidhanger Records | Facebook
Website: Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: March 28th, 2025

#25 #2025 #AlternativeMetal #AmericanMetal #BlackMetal #DeathMetal #IVoidhangerRecords #LabyrinthineHeirs #Mar2025 #Review #TheJesusLizard #VedBuensEnde

Deafheaven – Lonely People with Power Review

By Doom_et_Al

You never forget your first love. The sense of wonder and excitement, a world you had only heard and read about, opening up to you like a flower on a Summer’s day. Deafheaven was my first (in a metal sense). The combination of furious black meal, searing post metal, and fuzzy shoegaze, mixed with a dollop of genuine longing, totally rewired my brain. Which means that if you’re looking for a coldly analytical review of a band’s sixth album, you should probably go elsewhere. Deafheaven is part of my DNA, and a new album will always be a big deal, even if we’ve drifted apart over the years. You see, while I’ve enjoyed the band’s output since the wondrous Sunbather, it’s been clear that Deafheaven and I have been moving in different directions. And this was confirmed with Infinite Granite. I respected the band’s bravery in trying something new; I just didn’t like the result much. Shiny, pretty post-rock is nothing to be ashamed of. But the Deafheaven I loved were all about embracing the fury of black metal to highlight their emotional beats. Without that tension, Infinite Granite felt weightless. And my relationship with Deafheaven almost went from “It’s complicated” to “Splitsville”…

… Except, there was “Mombasa,” the final song on Infinite Granite. Specifically, the final 3 minutes of “Mombasa.” Deafheaven broke the shackles, George Clarke’s shrieks roared forth, and within was a reminder of what the band was capable of. Was that denouement a farewell to a style they were abandoning, or a promise that they had not forgotten their roots? Lonely People with Power answers, and boy does it answer.

After a brief intro, the band kicks off with “Magnolia,” which is one of the meaner cuts of Deafheaven’s oeuvre, and completely devoid of the shininess of anything on Infinite Granite, including the clean vocals. On first listen, I wondered if this was a repudiation of that album; an abandonment of that sound and an acknowledgement that “mistakes were made.” But as “Heathen” hits its chorus, you realize Lonely People with Power is a lot more interesting than that. You see, the post-rock sounds of Infinite Granite have not been abandoned; they’ve just been folded into Deafheaven’s existing aesthetic. Which means that not only is Lonely People with Power their most complete and harmonious record to date, but it also retroactively improves Infinite Granite.

Although Deafheaven have always been comfortable with what they are not – i.e., a “trve kvlt” black metal band, it has sometimes felt that they were less comfortable with what they are. After the stunning Sunbather, the band oscillated between “mean” (New Bermuda), “pretty” (Ordinary Corrupt Human Love), and “post rock” (Infinite Granite). Lonely People with Power somehow finds a way to incorporate all these elements in a cohesive, stunning whole. Its gnarly tracks (“Magnolia,” “Revelator”) are gnarly, it’s pretty tracks (“Heathen,” “Winona”) are downright gorgeous, and the hybrids (“The Garden Route”, “The Marvelous Orange Tree”) feel natural and complementary. What ties all of these together is the emotional core that Deafheaven bring. Among contemporaries, perhaps only Gaerea are anywhere near them in terms of the ability to achieve that ecstatic, cathartic release this music thrives on. Lonely People with Power is brimming with pain and longing and wonder and fury. For the first time, the band has the musical language to convey all of these and then some.

Performances across the board are top-notch. Dan Tracy’s exceptional drumming brings power and force to the harder tracks, and wisely cuts back during the gentler moments. George Clarke’s howls and shrieks have never been the strongest attribute of the band, but he brings a unique intensity and connection that anyone who has attended one of their live shows will attest to. But the real star of the show is lead guitarist Kerry McCoy. McCoy has battled his own demons and writer’s block to create these furious, gorgeous, compelling gems. His guitar soars and dives, and he is able to find beauty in even the ugliest, more twisted compositions.

Sunbather, for all the ridiculous accusations of being “hipster metal,” had that thing. That thing that is impossible to define but is sprinkled liberally on all the best albums. There’s a reason Sunbather remains iconic. It is too early to say whether Lonely People with Power is a match for that masterpiece, but it has that thing, too. It is Deafheaven’s most mature and complete work to date; a synthesis of everything that has come before without being derivative or overly reliant. It plays to the band’s strengths, and wears its unironic heart on its sleeve. If Deafheaven aren’t your vibe, this won’t change your mind – it is, above all, a defiantly Deafheaven album through and through. For everyone else, this is an essential and timeless collection of tracks. It reminds us of the power of metal music to connect and move. But it also fucking reminds us that Deafheaven are not just back; they never left.

Rating: 4.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Roadrunner Records
Website: deafheaven.com
Releases Worldwide: March 28th, 2025

#2025 #45 #AmericanMetal #BlackMetal #Blackgaze #Deafheaven #Mar25 #Review #Reviews #RoadrunnerRecords

Allegaeon – The Ossuary Lens Review

By Maddog

Allegaeon’s six albums have received tumultuous marks in these halls. After their fantastic 2010 debut Fragments of Form and Function broke the score counter, Allegaeon sank as low as a 2.0 for 2016’s Proponent for Sentience in the eyes of then-tadpole GardensTale. While their latest outing recovered to a more respectable score, Allegaeon’s techy brand of melodeath has polarized socialites and critics alike. The band excelled with their riffier onslaughts and soaring melodies, but fell for the forbidden fruit of proggy excess. The Ossuary Lens showcases a leaner, meaner Allegaeon. I won’t be listening to it in a decade, but it’s a worthy soundtrack for today.

Allegaeon have trimmed their bloat but not their ambitions. For the uninitiated, Allegaeon’s brand of death metal resembles a noodlier Arsis, with its melodicism matched only by its technicality. That said, Allegaeonites will recall that these Coloradans would rather cover Yes or Rush than classic death metal. Allegaeon’s career has sometimes descended into a vulgar display of prog, combining protracted tracks with a penchant for flamenco breaks. These proggy elements live on, as Allegaeon gallops from punchy riffs to melodic leads to clean jams and back again. However, The Ossuary Lens displays newfound restraint. At 45 minutes, this is the band’s shortest album by a full eight minutes. Allegaeon’s escapades no longer leave a salty aftertaste, and the band’s forays into other genres no longer feel like pleas for a yardstick. The Ossuary Lens preserves its identity without getting lost in its own reflection.

Accordingly, The Ossuary Lens hits across both its bigly riffs and its creative tangents. The album’s fierier cuts are a refreshing return to form, with “The Swarm” reviving Elements of the Infinite’s infectious riffcraft. As hoped, these sections still ooze technicality, as guitarists Greg Burgess and Michael Stancel dominate their fretboards even in their most explosive moments. Meanwhile, Allegaeon’s genre-bending experiments feel creative but not overwrought. Most notably, “Dark Matter Dynamics” pulls a First Fragment stunt of seamlessly transitioning between jubilant strumming (courtesy of Adrian Bellue) and formidable death metal melodies. Indeed, The Ossuary Lens hits hardest when these forces unite. For instance, “Carried by Delusion” voyages from serene melodies to Revocation worship to blackened tremolos to upbeat bass and guitar solos to downcast crunchy riffs, eviscerating both my heartstrings and my neck. The Ossuary Lens’ moderation goes a long way. Rather than clobbering the listener with decades-long Spanish guitar jams, The Ossuary Lens presents its creative side through measured four-minute tracks. Tech, prog, melody, and home sweet death metal unite into a potent concoction.

While each piece of The Ossuary Lens is impressive in isolation, the album sometimes loses my interest. One reason is its lack of climactic moments. During tracks like “Scythe” and “Wake Circling Above,” I zoned out and had to abuse the rewind button, because there weren’t enough valleys, buildups, and peaks to keep me engaged. Another reason is sequencing; while the five middle tracks from “Driftwood” through “Dark Matter Dynamics” shine, the bookends fall short. The most predictable reason is production. Despite aiming for creativity and dynamism in their songwriting, Allegaeon continues to brickwall their albums into tepid gruel. As a result, The Ossuary Lens often loses my focus despite its seemingly manageable length. Conversely, the album’s highlights show how it’s done. Most strikingly, “Driftwood” has colonized my brain with a soulful mix of melodeath and metalcore that recalls Venom Prison. With highs this high, it’s a shame that The Ossuary Lens often slips into uniformity.

Allegaeon is a relatively new band, but they inspire nostalgia. I vividly recall pimply nights with the addictive Fragments of Form and Function. I still think that “Accelerated Evolution” and “Genocide for Praise” are two of the greatest album closers of this millennium. And the iconic 2014 music video for “1.618” sealed Allegaeon’s place in my heart forever. Measured against Allegaeon’s first three albums, The Ossuary Lens falls short, hampered by its dearth of standout moments. Still, it isn’t a stinker. It still bangs; it still shreds; it still progs. Warts and all, it earns its keep.

Rating: Good
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Metal Blade Records
Websites: allegaeon.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/Allegaeon
Releases Worldwide: April 4th, 2025

Iceberg

Allegaeon are something of a known quantity around here, having been nodded at by Steel, eviscerated by GardensTale, and patched up by Cherd. The Colorado crew helmed by guitarist Greg Burgess have amassed a legion of rabid followers (who are sure to raise a ruckus in the comment section) for their signature style of Gothenburg-meets-tech-death. I’ll admit to being a fan of 2016’s Proponent for Sentience, one of the first reviews I read on this site, but got lost amidst the dense material of Apoptosis and frankly didn’t even give Damnum a shot. Allegaeon’s latest LP, The Ossuary Lens, sees the return of original vocalist Ezra Haynes and a much-welcomed stripped-down runtime, two intriguing changes in my book. It’s been quite a while since I’ve been excited about an Allegaeon release, can The Ossuary Lens be the record to change that?

Allegaeon’s style of melo-tech-death needs little introduction here, but for those of you who haven’t been following the past decade’s worth of drama, I’ll provide the CliffsNotes. Sweeping, scalar guitar riffs courtesy of Burgess and Michael Stancel form the backbone of most tracks, and the dual guitars make for an indulgent offering of solos (“Driftwood,” “Wake Circling Above”). The drums here, while dripping with modern production sheen, are compelling and energetic without being overly technical, a sincere compliment for Jeff Saltzman. Allegaeon have never strayed from highlighting their bass players, and standout moments in “Chaos Theory” and “Carried by Delusion” show Brandon Michael has as much a command of melody as he does of relentless, galloping rhythms. Ezra Haynes, of Elements of the Infinite fame, comes roaring back to life on The Ossuary Lens, employing a gritty death roar alongside commendable clean vocals on “Driftwood” and “Wake Circling Above.” The performances on The Ossuary Lens are everything one would come to expect from a band nearly two decades into their career, and make for a wholly engaging listening experience.

Allegaeon albums tend to have similar issues holding them back, and the band have largely addressed them on The Ossuary Lens. First and foremost is the 45-minute runtime, a nearly 25% reduction in music from their last three records. The renewed focus on editing shines, with tracks that hit fast and get out of the way while still managing to be memorable (“The Swarm,” “Imperial”). This represents the first major improvement in The Ossuary Lens; Allegaeon have not only figured out that less is more, but they’ve also magnified the parts that work. Sing-along melodeath choruses lurk throughout the album (“Driftwood,” “Dies Irae”) but none so impactful as penultimate track “Wake Circling Above.” Clearly the best Insomnium track released this year, Allegaeon’s ode to all things Gothenburg is a monumental testament to what this band can do when they stop doing so much and let the music dictate the song’s course.

The hits don’t stop there. The Ossuary Lens takes a while to really get moving, with the first three tracks treading familiar territory. But then comes “Dies Irae,” a barnburner that incorporates the three-note musical motif for the Dies Irae text of the Requiem Mass, a nice music nerd Easter Egg that only enhances the ripping triplet-infused breakdown sitting in the song’s center. And Burgess’ requisite flamenco guitar, something sorely overused in Proponent for Sentience, is here condensed into the driving groove of “Dark Matter Dynamics,” a powerfully infectious rhythm ripped straight from a Rodrigo y Gabriela record, or the breath-before-the-plunge moments of the darkly harrowing “Carried by Delusion.” Whereas previous Allegaeon records were dense, academic affairs that required shoveling through noise and notes to discern, The Ossuary Lens presents a barebones masterclass on Allegaeon’s modus operandi.

This isn’t to say that The Ossuary Lens is infallible. Early tracks “Chaos Theory” and “Driftwood” are technically proficient, but fail to reach the emotional highs of the rest of their brethren. Final track “Scythe,” while holding some excellent verse grooves, feels underbaked after the astonishing “Wake Circling Above,” and its cropped ending leaves the album on more of a question mark than a statement. And there’s the lingering issue of the DR5 master and production, which, while not as obscene as earlier records, is still crushed and fatiguing. But overall, The Ossuary Lens represents a massively successful repositioning for the Coloradoans, making it one of my favorite spins of the year for its precision, refinement, and memorability. If Allegaeon continue on this trajectory, we may see their best work yet just over the horizon.

Rating: 3.5/5.0

#2025 #30 #35 #Allegaeon #AmericanMetal #Apr25 #Arsis #DeathMetal #FirstFragment #Insomnium #Melodeath #MelodicDeathMetal #MetalBlade #MetalBladeRecords #ProgressiveDeath #ProgressiveDeathMetal #ProgressiveTechnicalDeathMetal #Review #Reviews #Revocation #RodrigoYGabriela #Rush #TechnicalDeathMetal #TheOssuaryLens #VenomPrison #Yes

Buried Realm – The Dormant Darkness Review

By Owlswald

Colorado’s Buried Realm, the technical melodic death metal project of multi-instrumentalist and vocalist Josh Dummer, has built a steady following since 2017’s The Ichor Carcinoma. This is largely because— alongside his role as the primary writer and producer of Buried Realm’s music— Dummer is one hell of a guitarist. Additionally, he enlists a prominent cast of guest musicians for each album, adding another layer of proficiency to his progressive soundscape.1 While Dummer’s talent and networking ability are compelling, 2020’s Embodiment of the Divine received a mixed reception from AMG’s own Twelve. Since then, Dummer has made notable upgrades through the addition of drummer Heikki Saari (Fintroll, ex-Norther) and the outsourcing of post-production duties, resulting in a heavier and more polished sound on Buried Realm’s 2022 self-titled third album. With these refined elements and the promise of further evolution, I was eager to delve into The Dormant Darkness to see what I would find lurking in the shadows.

What I found was a great album. Building upon the foundation of Buried Realm, The Dormant Darkness finds Dummer taking the next step in his power-tinged melodeath assault. The opening barrage of “Bloodline Artifice,” with its relentless blasts, tremolo onslaught, and visceral screams, channels the power of tech-death giants like Allegaeon. At the same time, the album’s overall melodicism is indicative of The Living Infinite-era Soilwork. Guest appearances include the likes of Per Nilsson (Scar Symmetry) and Christopher Amott (ex-Arch Enemy), who fortify tracks like “Human Code” and “Futuristic Hollow Nation” with sweeps, dives, and wails galore. Saari’s intricate rhythms and colorful accents amplify Buried Realm’s dazzling riff craft. Additionally, Dummer’s Laiho-esque rasps intertwine with Bjorn “Speed” Strid’s (Soilwork) roars and Christian Älvestam’s (ex-Scar Symmetry) soaring choruses to add sophistication and depth. With a well-rounded mix that delivers plenty of punch and low-end heft, The Dormant Darkness features a concentrated and layered sound that is rich, heavy, technical, and a ton of fun.

For those who crave virtuosity, Buried Realm will not disappoint. Guitar wizardry is delivered in droves, with memorable solos, melodic leads, and powerful shredding across the record’s eight tracks. Nilsson’s dynamic fretwork at the heart of “Human Code,” Amott’s dive-bomb acrobatics within “Futuristic Hollow Nation,” and Daniel Freyberg’s (ex-Children of Bodom) blazing solo on “A Futile Endeavor” stand out as particularly jaw-dropping moments.2 Dummer and Saari’s merciless grooves— shredding and hammering with precision— strengthen the album’s star-studded guest list, constructing Buried Realm’s tech-heavy compositions. Contrasting Buried Realm’s unyielding virtuosity are Älvestam’s uplifting serenades on songs like “Jaws of the Abyss” and “Futuristic Hollow Nation” which present striking melodies and refreshing hooks that draw me back again and again. Ultimately, while the constellation of guest musicians warrant attention, The Dormant Darkness is filled with highlights that will appeal to a wide audience.

With its intensity and compositional depth, The Dormant Darkness could have easily become overwhelming. Indeed, the songwriting periodically suffers from overly dense passages and abrupt transitions. The disjointed vocal exchange between Dummer and Strid before the chorus in “Human Code,” for example, is jarring, as is the song’s mid-section where a whirlwind of blasts and leads stutters and starts erratically. That said, while occasional missteps somewhat detract from the album’s pacing and flow, they are minor quibbles in a record rife with strong songwriting. Furthermore, Francesco Ferrini’s (Fleshgod Apocalypse) poignant orchestral arrangements on tracks like “Ophidian Dreams” and “Where the Armless Phantoms Glide, Pt. II” provide atmospheric grandeur and emotional depth, mitigating aural fatigue and upholding sonic balance.

Overall, The Dormant Darkness is a blast. The album is the culmination of Buried Realm’s evolution and proves that Dummer’s persistence and dedication have paid off handsomely. It’s full of highlights and genuinely impressive moments, blending technical prowess with memorable melodic hooks, exceptional guest contributions, and compositional maturity. Despite the occasional minor slipup, the album’s technical and charming melodeath personality seizes my attention from the start and maintains its spectral grasp until the record’s final notes fade into the ether. With The Dormant Darkness, Buried Realm has established itself as a formidable force— one that melodeath fans won’t want to miss.

Rating: Great!
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Self-Released
Websites: buriedrealm.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/buriedrealm
Releases Worldwide: April 4th, 2025

#2025 #40 #Allegaeon #AmericanMetal #Apr25 #ArchEnemy #BuriedRealm #ChildrenOfBodom #DeathMetal #FleshgodApocalypse #MelodicDeathMetal #PowerMetal #ProgressiveDeath #ProgressiveMetal #Review #Reviews #ScarSymmetry #SelfReleased #Soilwork #SpaceMetal #SymphonicMetal #TechnicalDeathMetal #TheDormantDarkness

Mizmor & Hell – Alluvion Review

By Carcharodon

A.L.N. (a.k.a. Mizmor) and M.S.W. (Hell) inhabit similar territories: geographically, the Pacific Northwest; sonically, abrasive, droning, blackened doom; and, perhaps critically, emotionally, all claustrophobic, tortured heft. Although they’ve collaborated live before, Alluvion, which refers to the sedimentary deposits left by a body of flowing water, is their first studio outing together. Billed as a map to aid the listener in navigating through bouts of psychic distress, the prone form on the cover could easily be me by the time I’m finished with this review, crushed beneath the weight of Mizmor & Hell’s compositions, corpse abandoned on that mountainside rising from the promo sump. I’ve been interested in anything Mizmor has put out since Yodh, and enjoyed his last full-length, Prosaic, quite a bit. However, the last Mizmor collaboration that I dived into (with Andrew Black) left me cold. I went into Alluvion expecting a more familiar experience, given the similarities with Hell, which suggested that I might be in for a more predictable, if more emotionally exhausting, ride. So what will Alluvion leave behind in its wake?

If you are familiar with Mizmor and Hell’s past works, and can sort of picture what a collaboration focused on psychic distress might sound like, BOOM, you’re right! Alluvion is exactly that. Dense, doom-laden oppression, nuzzling up against moments of surprising delicacy and tenderness, with the latter kicking things off on opener, “Begging to be Lost.” The first two minutes of strings-only tranquillity hint at the rumbling blackened sludge that follows. With both men contributing vocals and guitars (while Hell handles bass, and Mizmor drums), when the hammer does fall, it falls hard. Noting the descriptor that Mizmor & Hell intended Alluvion to act as a means of navigating mental health struggles, I see the shifting moods of the record as mapping onto the ebb and flow of these challenges, from anvil-like oppression, through devastating chaos into exhausted moments of clarity, that border on hopeful. All this and more is packed into the 16 minutes and change of “Begging to be Lost” alone. Something resembling respite is offered by the percussion- and vocal-free “Vision I,” its distorted, reverberating drone cathartic in its simplicity.

As Mizmor & Hell move into standout piece “Pandemonium’s Throat,” the pattern of “Begging to be Lost” is repeated but in amplified form. The gentle opening notes bear hints of distortion, the droning guitar lines offer a rawer, blackened edge, while the vocals (Hell’s, I think) take on a more desperate, rasping edge. When all hell breaks loose—no pun intended—around the seven-minute mark, we find ourselves nudging into stripped back, heavily distorted black metal, with a frantic energy that is almost second wave in its intensity. Going into Alluvion, I’d braced myself for an epic on the scale of Yodh or Cairn, both of which hover around the hour mark. In fact, this comes in a surprisingly compact package, clocking in at just 39 minutes. But nevertheless, and perhaps because of the harrowing journey the listener is taken on, by the time we reach closer, “Vision II,” there’s an exhausted and drawn feel to Mizmor & Hell’s work. It’s that feeling of full-body tiredness we’ve all known at one point or another, where every part of you feels heavy and drained.

All that said, Alluvion isn’t quite as traumatic, nor as soul-destroying, as I’d braced myself for from this Mizmor & Hell combination. There are two reasons for this. First, “Vision I” and “Vision II,” which act as a mid-album interlude and outro,1 respectively. These serve to both offer up some respite for the listener—leaving to one side the rather unsettling, wordless voices that swirl and clack around you at the end of “Vision II”—but also to significantly lessen the complexity of the album. Comprising over a quarter of Alluvion, they are, on the one hand, welcome for making it an easier listen, and, on the other, a hindrance for somewhat lessening its impact. The other reason for the lower trauma rating is the production. Only managing a DR4, this simply isn’t as rich and textured as I’d hoped it would be, and as I think it needs to be, to fully achieve its creators’ mission.

Alluvion promised a lot and delivered quite a bit, but not the whole package. Its highs, which are basically all of “Pandemonium’s Throat,” are great, building the oppressive tension before unleashing raw catharsis. However, the rest of the compositions from Mizmor & Hell are good but no more. I’m not quite sure how much of this to pin on the expectations that I carried into Alluvion, and which I suspect many who know the solo work by each of these men will also carry. It’s honest, raw, and good, but the fact is I walked away from it relatively unscathed, where I expected to be ruined, face down beside a deserted path.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 4 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Gilead Media
Websites: mizmor.bandcamp.com | loweryourhead.bandcamp.com
Releases Worldwide: April 4th, 2025

#2025 #30 #Alluvion #AmericanMetal #Apr25 #BlackMetal #BlackenedDoom #BlackenedNoise #Doom #DoomMetal #Drone #GileadMedia #MizmorHell #Noise #Review #Reviews #Sludge

Tómarúm – Beyond Obsidian Euphoria

By Kenstrosity

Over the past three years, I’ve come to appreciate Tómarúm’s surprising, mature debut Ash in Realms of Stone Icons at a deeper level than I had hoped to reach in the mere two weeks provided at the time. While I stand by my overall score—and by my critiques—my relationship with that record grew more meaningful and rewarding with time. Tómarúm’s spiritually charged, introspective point of view speaks volumes of suffering and strife, while the complexity of their musical compositions reflects in uncompromising clarity the fluid order that governs a turbulent chaos of the soul and of the heart. With this fresh in mind, I approach follow-up Beyond Obsidian Euphoria with great curiosity and equal anticipation.

Occupying a niche of progressive metal most commonly associated with acts like Ne Obliviscaris, but also connected to newer groups such as Amiensus, An Abstract Illusion, and Dawn of Ouroboros, Atlanta quintet Tómarúm boast an especially fluid and emotive sound. Progressive structures and ever-shifting phrases abound, yet never intrude, obstruct, or interrupt. Technical prowess reminiscent of Fallujah and Lunar Chamber creates additional dynamics most noticeably felt in the bass guitar, lead guitar, and drum performances. And, to my great delight, a new twist of machine-gun burst riffing pulled from Warforged‘s I: Voice playbook grants a palpable, terrifying presence. Beyond Obsidian Euphoria takes all of these elements, intrinsic to Tómarúm’s identity, and implements them with the same finesse and refinement of the last record, but with an altogether more hopeful tone. While still dealing with subjects of profound anguish and emotional turmoil, Beyond explores further the catharsis borne of dedicated, dogged persistence against those internal demons which would otherwise have your singular light extinguished from this mortal coil.

Nothing better exemplifies this shift in tone than the one-two punch of standout duo “Shallow Ecstasy” and “Shed This Erroneous Skin.” Epic sweeps of ominous shadow collide with shimmers of brilliance as menacing pummels advance their campaign against soaring leads and righteous solos. Those blackened rasps that voiced past work join the fray again as crooning cleans provide motivating counterpoint to fuel the flame of continuing life. A vivid chiaroscuro of composition personifies every moment across this 16-minute span, but the surrounding environs offer just as many dynamic moments of beauty and beastliness. The remarkably short and savage “Blood Mirage” deals massive damage to the cranium as it executes a brutal assault of riffs and tech-y oscillations, while “Halcyon Memory: Dreamscapes Across the Blue” evokes an Hail Spirit Noir-esque airiness that belies its double-bass propulsion and quasi-bluesy harmonized solos. The gamut of sounds, styles and textures malleate as soft putty in Tómarúm’s talented fingers, which allows their unfaltering focus on story and character to shine ever brighter on Beyond’s second immense suite of epics, “Silver, Ashen Tears” and “The Final Pursuit of Light.” Any impression of bloat falls to the wayside in the face of such nuanced and well-realized musical design, as melody, pace, substance, and technicality find a kaleidoscopic harmony striking in its multifaceted vibrancy.

At just under 70 minutes, Beyond Obsidian Euphoria daunts any audience with a monumental investment. The dividends, however, more than make up for the sacrifice. That is, if the listener is willing and ready to dig deep and find those moments most intimate and vulnerable. That delicate pluck of the string in a phrase flanked by vicious scrapes; the contrabass frequency that stimulates the spine as starry tremolos dot the sky; the desperate howl of pain and of shattered spirit that preludes an epiphany of truth and of healing; the miraculous congregation of hook and sophistication moving in tandem towards a shared apex of sound and story; all find a place in this wonderful piece, and each piece has its place. Unlike my experience with Ash in Realms, my experience with Beyond is one of complete and utter immersion. There is hardly a moment I would change, barely a segment I would cut—save for the fluffy interlude “Introspection III,” appearing too early on to leave a lasting mark by the close.

Occasionally, I find myself unable to dedicate the time necessary to engage with Tómarúm’s latest opus. I expect that others will experience the same unfortunate circumstance. While that certainly poses a question to the value statement of an album this long, specifically because its individual chapters can’t be separated without compromising the integrity of the whole, Beyond Obsidian Euphoria feels like a rare record that needs every second it consumes. The passion and personality Tómarúm exude in this work demands the price of time to bloom. If you give it the space to do so, what awaits can only be described as euphoric.

Rating: Excellent!
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Prosthetic Records
Websites: tomarum.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/TomarumBM/
Releases Worldwide: April 4th, 2025

#2025 #45 #AmericanMetal #Amiensus #AnAbstractIllusion #Apr25 #BeyondObsidianEuphoria #BlackMetal #Cormorant #DawnOfOuroboros #DeathMetal #Fallujah #HailSpiritNoir #LunarChamber #MelodicBlackMetal #MelodicDeathMetal #NeObliviscaris #ProgressiveBlackMetal #ProgressiveDeathMetal #ProgressiveMetal #ProstheticRecords #Review #Reviews #TechnicalDeathMetal #Tómarúm #Warforged