Following the regrettable and entirely non-suspicious sabbatical of the great El Cuervo, the baton of the heroic effort of assembling the Aggregated List has been passed. This year’s list is a joint effort. The data collection and analysis have been handled by yours truly. The finely-crafted blurbs below were produced by newcomer Andy-War-Hall, who has not yet learnt to say no when volunteers are requested.

Of course, with new personnel comes new methods. Ranked choice group decision making is a famously knotty problem; indeed, one can show mathematically that a perfect mechanism simply doesn’t exist. And we are armed with partial information: did one of our writers not put a particular album on their list because they were lukewarm to it, or absolutely hated it (or would have, had they listened to it)? How do we even define the overall best album? Is it better for an album to be liked by many or loved by a few?

These questions led entirely too far down a rabbit hole on voting algorithms. I spent quite a while testing different approaches on last year’s list season.1 In the end, I have gone with an approach which is similar to the one El C used previously, but which more heavily weights the upper end of a list. A #1 placing gets 1 point, a #2 gets 1/2 a point, and so on.2 This, I hoped, would produce a list more representative of the records that were loved and passionately debated at AMG HQ, and less vulnerable to “lowest common denominator” criticisms levelled at previous aggregation endeavors.

This year, we had 28 lists, spanning 235 unique albums. This year’s tastemakers and/or crowd followers are Creeping Ivy, GardensTale, Kenstrosity, and Thus Spoke, each of whom had 7 records from their lists make it onto this one.3 Meanwhile, this year’s contrarians are Alekhines Gun and Dr. A.N. Grier, with exactly one each.

In practice, the new selection algorithm has done about what I expected. 14/20 of the records overlap between the two methods, with mostly minor changes in position. Records like Grima, Flummox, and Maud the Moth made the list with one passionate advocate and a handful of supporters. Records like Imperial Triumphant and Igorrr, with 7 and 6 relatively low placements, respectively, did not. Is this better? I think so, and if you don’t, you’re wrong, or a big fan of a record that didn’t make it onto the list in the new system.4, 5

–Sentynel

#20. Dax Riggs // 7 Songs for Spiders – [#2, #3, #4, #ish] – “Dax’s comeback album marks a triumphant and warm, comforting return from an underground icon. 7 Songs for Spiders delivered the goods, as Dax and friends dropped an album with a familiar, nostalgic feel that refuses to rest on its laurels. Riggs’ defining vocals sound as vital and deliciously smoky as ever, weaving signature morbid tales, deadly hooks, and earworm melodies through subdued yet deceptively hefty and bluesy folk-doom ditties.” (Saunders).

#19. Qrixkuor // The Womb Of The World – [#2, #3, #4, #8] – “Yet I still don’t think anything could have adequately prepared me for how massive and mad The Womb of the World actually is. With the strings, horns, and piano swooping and crashing about in great surges and falls, Qrixkuor’s already grandiose style fully feels like some tormented classical opus, and it’s utterly magnificent” (Thus Spoke).

#18. Grima // Nightside – [#1, #7, #10] – “On Nightside, [Grima] struck the perfect balance between the traditional influences of 2019’s Will of the Primordial and the propulsive, frozen atmosphere of Frostbitten (2022). The combination gives Nightside an almost hypnotic, and weirdly tranquil, flow, offset by Vilhelm’s rasping vocals, which remain among the best in the BM game” (Carcharodon).

#17. Flummox // Southern Progress – [#1, #9, #9, #HM] –
“Steeped in messaging that spotlights systematic and social prejudices that plague the queer[…] Flummox’s fifth LP greatly affected me on a personal level. More so than any other record released this year, Southern Progress feels important, not just to me, and not just to Flummox. I strongly believe everyone could learn something from this bizarre, wild, and untamable barnstormer, and have a blast doing it” (Kenstrosity).

#16. An Abstract Illusion // The Sleeping City – [#2, #7, #7, #9, #10, #HM, #HM, #HM, #HM] – “I’ve somehow grown to love The Sleeping City even more in the months since I awarded it a 4.0. Sure, the production leaves much to be desired, but there aren’t any other notable qualities that I would consider faults. It won’t appeal to the exact same audience as the legendary Woe, but I have plenty of room in my heart for both (and likely whatever An Abstract Illusion devises next)” (Killjoy).

#14. Buried Realm // The Dormant Darkness – [#1, #3] – “Buried Realm[…]gave me everything I like about metal in one dense package: blazing speeds, soaring guitars, majestic vocals, and relentless fury. It’s also inexplicably well-produced for how many layers there are to deal with. While 2025 was not a particularly star-studded release year—especially compared to most of the 2020s so far—it threw plenty of fun curveballs at me, and The Dormant Darkness exemplifies this with its Xothian fusion of metal subgenres in one big Ophidian I blender ov shred” (Baguette of Bodom).

#14. Maud The Moth // The Distaff – [#1, #3] – “And like the artists we value—or rather, like the artists I value—Amaya presents her vision of this struggle with focused and expanding melodic lines, crushing and crying crescendos, and an earnestness that compels its audience to surrender for a moment to a world created by these musical ideas. When your sadness comes, it won’t weep in blacks and ivories the way that The Distaff does” (Dolphin Whisperer).

#13. Yellow Eyes // Confusion Gate – [#1, #3, #HM] – “Yellow Eyes are one of the best black metal bands in the game and Confusion Gate is their most impressive work to date. It sees the band return to a more traditional atmospheric sound, but with the lessons learned from their explorations of dissonance and ambience. The result is a kaleidoscopic blend of gorgeous melodies, haunting riffs and a pervasive sense of pathos that only the best art can achieve” (Samguineous Maximus).

#12. Cave Sermon // Fragile Wings – [#1, #3, #6, #7] – “Words like ‘wistful,’ ‘exuberant,’ and ‘playful’ were tossed about in Thus’s excellent write-up and really homed in on what made listening to Fragile Wings such a connective experience for me. Imbued as Fragile Wings is with upbeat sadness, Cave Sermon proved that I can get on board with post metal, and to be honest, any metal that sounds this good is worth the time spent” (Tyme).

#11. Primitive Man // Observance – [#1, #2, #10, #HM] – “Primitive Man is the heaviest band on the planet. While I’ve appreciated the Denver trio’s pitch-black approach to death metal laced with noise, doom, and sludge – from afar – Observance booked me in with upbeat tempos and a surprising melody. It swallows you whole like any good Primitive Man album ought to, but the devotion to deteriorating songwriting and weaponized noise” (Dear Hollow).

#10. Paradise Lost // Ascension – [#1, #3, #4, #7] – Paradise Lost’s latest entry into their historically varied and long-running discography, Ascension earned its flowers this Listurnalia through a heated handful of endorsements, all but one seated in the top halves of their respective lists. Whether impressing longtime fans like Steel Druhm through “maturity and sophistication even the classics lack” or grabbing off-and-on listeners like Thus Spoke by way of “grungy aggression and sadboi introspection in perfect equilibrium,” Ascension exudes not only oodles of gothic atmosphere but also vitality, something a band as old as Paradise Lost could be forgiven for lacking. As Grymm put it while crowning Ascension with his #1 spot, “With Black Sabbath now officially put to rest, Anathema long gone, and whatever the fuck is happening within My Dying Bride these days, somebody has to fly the British Doom flag high and proud, and Paradise Lost have done a bang-up job of doing so.” Simply, find Paradise in Ascension or get Lost.

#9. Calva Louise // Edge Of The Abyss – [#1, #5, #5, #9, #9, #10, #HM] – Every year this list has to have at least one real oddball pick, and 2025 has Calva Louise and their prog-groove-electronica-metalcore-whatever record Edge of the Abyss. Our Overlord, Angry Metal Guy Himself, declared, “Calva Louise sports a swagger unique to bands who are just doing exactly what they want to be doing. Since July, I’ve kept coming back to Edge of the Abyss and forgetting I had even enjoyed other records this year. There’s a real sense of becoming here; of a band pulling its influences together into something that feels unique.” Six other valued writers tolerated peons heaped their fair share of praise as well. Our server-savior Sentynel asserted, “Calva Louise is what you get if you take the Diablo Swing Orchestra and remove their classical instruments and sense of restraint. Something this absurd could only ever have been terrific or terrible.” Edge of the Abyss certainly won’t resonate for everybody as it did for much of the AMG crew, but with how much creativity and vision Calva Louise exude maybe that’s your fault if it doesn’t for you.

#8. Crippling Alcoholism // Camgirl – [#1, #3, #3, #5] – When Tyme first reviewed the “murderpop” synthwave group Crippling Alcoholism’s Camgirl back in September, he “could not have anticipated the absolute fathomless darkness lurking within Camgirl’s saccharine sweetness.” Neither, it seems, could the three freshly-raised N00bs who included Crippling Alcoholism on their lists, including a top spot on Lavender Larcenist‘s list, describing Camgirl as “dripping with the atmosphere of neon-lit back rooms, seedy interactions, and terrible decision-making. It feels like a lens into the lives of those society has left behind, and I can’t help but feel a connection.” Though perhaps not the most typically metal record on the aggregate list, given Camgirl’s deeply unsettling atmosphere and sticky hooks, it’s not hard to see how it can grab a listener and not let go. In a world and music scene so deeply desensitized to depravity, Crippling Alcoholism tapped into something truly profane.6

#7. Havukruunu // Tavastland – [#1, #1, #3] – Havukruunu may not have placed on many lists, but Tavastland clawed smote mightily onto the aggregate list by right of being our first entry of two top-billing spots. Creeping Ivy was taken in by Tavastland’s “adventurous prog sensibilities” while claiming “Havukruunu stands as a model of Viking black metal consistency.” Dr. A. N. Grier similarly heaped highest praise onto Havukruunu over their ability to scratch “that itch for old-school Bathory-core that is almost as good as the real fucking thing” and onto Tavastland for its “bludgeoning Bathory-meets-Immortal riffs, feel-good Viking plods, melodic passages, and seamless transitions that make repeat listens oh-so soothing.” The verdict is out: Havukruunu may not draw from fresh or cutting-edge sounds, but Tavastland is nonetheless a sword-swinging, barrel-chested victory cry that will take you straight to Valhalla if you let it.

#6. Structure // Heritage – [#1, #2, #5, #5, #6, #7, #8, #ish] – If the world were just a little bit better, we might not have had the depressive conditions for funeral doom duo Structure to produce Heritage, so just be glad it kinda stinks here. Earning eight list placements, not to mention boss-man Steel Druhm‘s #1, Heritage rocked this blog hard in 2025. Dear Hollow made no bones in stating “Heritage is Structure paying homage to doom metal’s contemplation while paying its dues in death metal’s viciousness – pure devastation,” while Steely D. made clear that “over the 50 minutes of Heritage, the duo drag you to the heart of sadness, loss, and despair as only thoughtful, well-executed doom can. Yet there are faint rays of light and hope in the inky black…” If you have any taste for doom or death (and perhaps a touch of masochism), you should already have given Heritage a spin. If funeral doom isn’t your thing, listen to “Will I Deserve It” and make it your thing.7

#5. In Mourning // The Immortal – [#1, #2, #2, #4, #8, #9, #10, #HM] – In Mourning may be a sad bunch of melodeathers, but it can’t be from a lack of appreciation for their record The Immortal ’round these parts. The word “perfect” appeared twice in relation to The Immortal this Listurnalia, with Clark Kent claiming “From the beautiful guitar tones to the excellent combo of clean and harsh vox to the memorable melodies, The Immortal is an emotional tour-de-force that grows more majestic with each spin” and Owlswald opining “these Swedes have found the perfect combination of their patented Opethian death metal chuggery, sadboi melodies and creative dynamism, resulting in a sound rich in emotional depth with more digestible hooks than one can handle.” A grower for some, an instant hit for others, The Immortal is a smart, emotional journey and—if the well-deserved tongue-bathing it received on this blog is anything to go by—may just have set In Mourning as the flag bearers of melodic death metal for the remainder of the 2020s.

#4. Tómarúm // Beyond Obsidian Euphoria – [#1, #1, #2, #5, #HM] – Very nearly taking three #1 spots this Listurnalia, progressive death-heads Tómarúm hit it big in 2025 with their sophomore record Beyond Obsidian Euphoria. Layered like lasagna and dense as deep dish, Beyond Obsidian Euphoria left Saunders with no shortage of things to say in his list: “Beyond Obsidian Euphoria smacked me upside the cranium with an explosion of creativity and ambitious songcraft…the whole experience is so consistently gripping and superbly written and performed that minor quibbles are squashed well below the surface.” Similarly, Clark Kent maintained that “Tomárúm’s epic, sprawling constructs demand so many of my spoons; emotionally, physically, spiritually. But it gives just as many back, plus just enough extra to compel me to spin it again.” Sharp, ambitious, and impactful, Tómarúm are the real deal, and if you have the silverware to spare, you should dig in to Beyond Obsidian Euphoria today.

#3. Dormant Ordeal // Tooth And Nail – [#1, #2, #2, #2, #4, #4, #6, #7, #8, #HM, #HM, #HM, #HM] – With just one list placement short of Archspire’s historical 2021 showing, Dormant Ordeal was the belle of the Listurnalia ball with their beefy blackened death opus Tooth and Nail. “Heavy, groovy, and eminently-listenable” (Thus Spoke), Tooth and Nail won over the unsettled minds of the AMG staff via achieving “the ideal form so far of what Dormant Ordeal can achieve with their gut-wrenching take on the Polish death metal sound” (Dolphin Whisperer). Crowning Tooth and Nail his #1 album of 2025, Tyme attested that, “From the brutally effective ‘Halo of Bones’ to the excellent, Dylan Thomas-inspired ‘Against the Dying of the Light,’ there wasn’t an album I returned to more this year than Tooth and Nail, its visceral riffs and razor-sharp edges leaving long-lasting scars.” You’re just not getting death metal this heavy, this mean, and this delightfully re-listenable in 2025 if it’s not Dormant Ordeal’s Tooth and Nail. Simple as.

#2. Messa // The Spin – [#1, #2, #2, #2, #3, #4, #5, #5, #ish, #HM, #HM, #HM] – The way the twelve writers who included Messa’s latest record The Spin on their lists describe it, you’d think they had no choice in the matter. Describing Messa’s blend of prog, doom, and post-rock, Dolphin Whisperer confessed, “I can’t rid myself of the power that a soaring bluesy lick and a smoky siren voice hold, no matter how I try,” while Kenstrosity described The Spin as “Emotive, sultry, and nuanced doom metal, compelling enough to seduce even the coldest heart.” Topping a list of self-professed comfort picks, El Cuervo said of his #1 pick, “The Spin doesn’t trouble to make itself easily approachable. Doom, prog, and post influences circle velvety melodies that sometimes sound like deliberate songs, and sometimes sound like jazz improvisation. But it’s these very qualities that belie its subtle allure; only with repetition and attention does The Spin shine.” Clearly, if you’re not ready to be taken in wholly by Messa and their intoxicating, multifaceted, and rewarding take on doom metal, then please avoid The Spin for your own sake.8

#1. 1914 // Viribus Unitis – [#1, #1, #1, #4, #4, #8, #HM, #HM, #HM] – “I have not listened to every item of music released in 2025, but I still think I can say that none could be more powerful than 1914’s Viribus Unitis. I listened to nothing heavier, nothing more memorable, and nothing so relevant as 1914’s story of a Ukrainian soldier caught up in the mania of the First World War.” Thus spake Twelve, one of three writers to set Ukrainian blackened death doom dogs-of-war 1914 and their latest musical AAR Viribus Unitis atop their lists in 2025, setting it atop this aggregate list as a result. Though I’m perhaps a bit biased in saying this, it’s not hard to see why Viribus Unitis takes the cake because, as Grin Reaper put it, “1914 paints war-torn life with savage grace, supplying devastating melody and grueling crawls that elevate the album to such heights that I’m genuinely moved each time I get to the end.” Elsewhere, yours truly gushed pathetically collectedly stated, “Immersion defines great music and art for me. It is almost unfortunate how good 1914 are in this facet of their music…1914 don’t play ‘history metal.’ Viribus Unitis is as present and relevant as you can get.” Rattling minds in its violence, breaking hearts in its tragedy, Viribus Unitis is a singularly enthralling record and is (by aggregate decision) 2025’s best album.

Dolphin Whisperer

Thus Spoke and I go way back. In fact, after our successful graduation from the same n00b class and into our first list season as full article writers, we had imagined that us two as a listing pair would produce a lethal and novel whiplash.1 So welcome to the bottom (or top) half of this eclectic endeavor that’s sure to leave you with thirty-some-odd unique albums to revisit or ignore or whatever it is you do with our strong and word-riddled opinions.

Now, the keen reader may notice I’ve had a bit of a productivity drop-off since about June. Well, that’s cause my wife gave birth to The Dolphlet, first of his name, and that’s kind of a lot of work, as I’m finding out. Baby comes first, as it goes. But I squeaked out a few important things, including a Coroner review that the unwashed masses claimed didn’t jerk Tommy Baron and co. as full of glee as it should have. I did miss other important things, like several of my list items.2. And I sincerely apologize to the following bands and offer them words of condolence or, something like that, based upon their individual situation: Bonginator, you should be glad I dropped the ball, stop it with the lame interludes; and count your blessings, Hell Ever After, thrash doesn’t need to be a musical; Species, you did thrash right though and I’m happy that others enjoyed you even more; Moths, and more specifically bassist Weslie Negron, I’m sorry that I took on your interview when my son was one month old and my brain was fried—your album rocks and you put in so much work to make Moths special. And lastly, to all the classics, I had grand plans to YMIO because I thought my brain could make that work—haha.3

Angry Metal Guy, however, remains home for me. You, dear readers, are a part of that love and drive that keep me here. Sometimes, I may only be able to conjure a half-funny joke in the comments section—you laugh (let me believe that) and give it two to five likes. Others, I may hype the heck out of a promising underground act until one of my trusted colleagues tells me “Dolph, that’s enough already, I’ll review it, sheesh.”—you liked it probably more than I did anyway. You see, for every word of bleeding hyperbole that we scribble, two sets of eyes may walk away enraptured. When you’re dealing with artists who have anywhere from sub-100 to 30004 listeners on the popularity engine of Spotify, every set counts. Every purchase on Bandcamp or Ampwall counts. Every stream on Tidal or some other competitor counts. Even your damn scrobble on last.fm counts if you’re nerdy enough for that. So sappy as it may seem, along with the herding efforts of Steel and occasionally The Big Dr. AMG Man Himself, you all give life to the bands in this wonderful modern metal scene. Hails!!

#ish. Messa // The Spin – I can’t rid myself of the power that a soaring bluesy lick and a smoky siren voice hold, no matter how I try. Burned into my head are The Spin’s glassy chorused-out chorus escalations. Drenched into the cones of my crackling car speakers are the synth throbs of certified shakers “Fire on the Roof” and “Thicker Blood.” Turn up the volume and turn down the lights, Messa has come to steal attention with yet another platter of throwback creativity.

#10. Quadvium // Tetradōm – Steve DiGiorgio and Jeroen Paul Thesseling stand at the altar of supreme metal bassists in my own personal head canon. They’d helm yours too if you were familiar with the span of their collective talents across acts like Death, Sadus, Autopsy, (DiGiorgio), and Pestilence, Obscura, Sadist (Thesseling). Knowing all this, they decided to make an album together. And in their refinement as performers, they managed to make a supergroup two-bass project more than just a thumpy wankfest. Full of diverse and rich tones, modern and proggy jitteriness, and a rounded, jazz fusion-leaning taste for exploration, Tetradōm provides an exciting notch in the weathered belt of these legends. I don’t know where Quadvium goes next after this, but I hope that it’s anything but dormant.

#9. Scardust // Souls – Every time I hear the introductory stumble of “Long Forgotten Song,” I fall immediately into the spastic and serenading world that Scardust crafts with their hypermelodic, histrionic, and confident progressive metal attitude. Central to this success remains the peerless Noa Gruman, whose every melody lands with honey-slathered tack and sing-a-long inspiration, despite my voice being a far, far cry away from the searing soprano wail that functions as a mic-drop crescendo as often as it needs to. Behind her, though, lies one of modern prog’s most nimble rhythm sections, imbuing even ballads like “Dazzling Darkness” and “Searing Echoes” with a bass-popping and hi-hat chattering clamor that places Souls in a league of its own. Also, Ross Jennings of Haken sounds better here than he has with Haken since The Mountain.

#8. Chiasma // Reaches – Chiasma possesses the unique ability to blend in with the modern paradigm of accessible melody prog in the lane of a band like Tesseract without conforming to its most djentrified tendencies. Rather, floating in its own swirl of Cynic-coded riffage and angelic, layered vocal excess, Reaches explodes with atmosphere and propulsive riff alike. In Katie Thompson’s nimble serenades rests a voice imbued with both a fluttering prowess and an aching heart. And in this sorrow—wrapped in the brightness of bleeping electronic backings, flipping virtuosic guitar runs, and singular voice—a yearning and healing takes place in fervent and fluorescent splendor.

#7. Dawnwalker // The Between – Just when I thought Dawnwalker didn’t have any more surprises left in their bag of tricks that seem tailor-made for my enjoyment,5 these sneaky Brits went and pulled out the one-long-song album. Continuing to live in the space of esoteric philosophy set forth in The Unknowing last year, Dawnwalker collects moods from all their previous works—the melancholy of isolation from In Rooms, the vocal aggression from Human Ruins, a sonic palette even grander in scope than Ages—to explore thoughts surrounding death. In lush construction, plaintive discourse, and time-bending magic, The Between breathes as a meditation bookended by heavy chiming bells—a journey that feels longer than its svelte 30-ish minute runtime but with none of the fatigue its gargantuan ask threatens. 6

#6. Gorycz // Zasypia – It’s a shame that Gorycz isn’t a household name, as their mystical, groovy approach to atmospheric and retching black metal sits among my favorites in the genre as a whole. Zasypia, as part three of a trilogy, tells a tale of despair through a warping pedalboard light on traditional distortion, shrieking throat on the edge of coherence,7 and dancing kit full of jazzy aplomb. In the space that lives between recursive and developing refrains, terror lurks. But in the Gorycz tattered exhale hangs a reverence for the beauty that can emerge from destruction and grieving. Feel every amplified string creak as you fall deeper into this devastating world.

#5. Lychgate // Precipice – You may be aware that this album was released on the 19th of December, a full two days after we were supposed to turn in these lists. Knowing that, I made sure I beat Precipice to the punch of garbage time list upheaval by listening to it, well, before that. In turn, Lychgate made sure that they’d make this late-season blooming count. With the death-thrash spirit of an early Morbid Angel crashing through low-end organ harmony and colliding with Holdsworthian alien guitar bleating, Precipice holds back neither on its urge to wander in arcane atmosphere nor on its urge to churn bodies in kinetic wonder. As another writer (whose name I can’t remember) said, Precipice ensnares by “…oscillating between Zappa’s Jazz from Hell and unearthly, pit-scorching acrobatics.” I couldn’t have put it better myself.8

#4. Barren Path // Grieving – The best grindcore album of the decade so far would come from the manic attack of Gridlink sans Jon Chang. Absent his terrifying shriek, Matsubara’s guitar scatter weighs heavier, Fajarado’s lightning snare rolls clang sharper, all against song lengths that inhabit the true short-form tradition of extreme brevity. The truth is, I’ve spent longer than the album’s length trying to convey its intensity and prowess, so just go and listen to it already. I’ll wait here. No, seriously, do it.

#3. Turian // Blood Quantum Blues – So very rare is the album that aligns like a key to a lock of a heart torn by generational angst. An eloquence exists in the disparity between Turian’s stark societal observations punctuated by raw emotional interjections of “FUCK”. I haven’t bothered to count the instances that this linguistic escalation occurs, but I guarantee that there are more fucks per stanza on Blood Quantum Blues than your favorite album this year. And, after you’ve become addicted to its overdriven noise rock-meets-hardcore-meets-industrial madness, you’ll know every single one as you shout along its contemptuous tales of cultural erasure. Indians don’t vanish, and neither will my love for every riff, every breakdown, and every tirade of Blood Quantum Blues.

#2. Changeling // Changeling – Tom “Fountainhead” Geldschläger poured everything into Changeling. Arranging over thirty performers across Changeling’s seems Sisyphean in scope, but Geldschläger persevered. Through peerless fretless wailings, every instrument under the sun follows well-developed motifs, and a pure love for metal, Changeling expresses nostalgia and novelty in its every loaded nook and cranny. And behind each moment of dense and exuberant songcraft, Geldschläger has tinkered to deliver an experience that feels carved over a lifetime. On top of all of that, Geldschläger is also a true guitar wizard—he zigs and zags and twists and twirls where others wear a scale to death. Like a classic novel or movie, Changeling reveals its worth both in immediate, jaw-dropping action and deep, attention-stealing detail. Geldschläger even put together a Dolby Atmos mix for the album and held listening parties in Berlin. I hear they’re wonderful. Come to California, Tom!

#1. Maud the Moth // The Distaff – When we seek art, we seek bravery and freedom of expression. And in the music that we seek in a refuge like Angry Metal guy, we often find these qualities expressed in emotional theme, in raw, sonic aggression, or in sweeping guitar-led grandeur. Woven from a different base cloth, Maud the Moth on paper does not fit that mold. Amaya López-Carromero wields, instead, a piano and scrawled diary pages. She, too, has pain, the same as any human who has encountered a world unforgiving to a life that wishes to live in a divergent path. And like the artists we value—or rather, like the artists I value—Amaya presents her vision of this struggle with focused and expanding melodic lines, crushing and crying crescendos, and an earnestness that compels its audience to surrender for a moment to a world created by these musical ideas. When your sadness comes, it won’t weep in blacks and ivories the way that The Distaff does. But you can pop it on and pretend for its run that its triumph will transfer from your ears to the very center of your tingling chest.

Honorable Mentions:

• Pissgrave // Malignant Worthlessness – Tempos that flow like a full sewage pipe and riffage that doesn’t let up until the steaming and warped conclusion. The Pissgrave family flows as one heaving death-fueled machine, and it’s sad to see them close shop. But they left us with a monster of a swansong.
• Dormant Ordeal // Tooth and Nail – Pummeling and emotionally resonant—if a bit ham-fisted in some lyrical choices—Tooth and Nail represents the ideal form so far of what Dormant Ordeal can achieve with their gut-wrenching take on the Polish death metal sound.
• Sterveling // Sterveling – The backdrop of black metal on what is otherwise downcast jam music makes for a combo that is both hypnotic and uncontested in the space. It helps that the vocalist lets out some of the most demented howls I’ve heard this year.
• 夢遊病者 // РЛБ30011922 – Speaking of jam music, 夢遊病者 has, over time, morphed from a more frenetic math rock-indebted experience to this current, flowing state of progressive tone porn. 2025 was a good year for the one-song album. And much like Dawnwalker’s The Between, it takes up about thirty minutes and some change. Restraint, class, and fat bass heaven.
• Aversed // Erasure of Color – I’m not normally one for melodic death metal. But when it comes packaged with this much mic vitriol and a neoclassical sense that reminds me of the late, great Nevermore,9 I pay attention. And I spin it again and again and again—constant rotation since arrival.
• Yellow Eyes // Confusion Gate – Certain albums that come out late in the year suffer greatly because their true power lies in remaining interesting and unfolding over a long period of time. Immersion Trench Reverie is a special album, and Confusion Gate feels like its sequel. Comfy and caustic all at once.
• Moths // Septem – As the premier progressive metal band from Puerto Rico, Moths has a loaded mission to make a name for themselves. And with another album that keeps its runtime tight and its riffweight heavy, Septem deserves your attention for half an hour and then some. Hey, look, it’s on Ampwall too!
• Grayceon // Then the Darkness – Cello metal at its finest and most relatable. Despite advances in chamber inclusion throughout the metalsphere, not a single band sounds like Grayceon yet. And their songwriting quality remains so high that I don’t care that this album is just about eighty minutes.
• Helms Deep // Chasing the Dragon – There’s a dragon with a jetpack on the cover. I shouldn’t need to say more than that. But note also that Chasing the Dragon comes also loaded with rollicking ’80s flair and pentatonic guitar wizardry that’s so out of fashion it’s cool again. This is metal.

Disappointments o’ the Year:

• Suffering Hour // Impelling Rebirth and Umulamahri // Learning the Secrets of Acid – You’ll see more words about these later, cause they are great. And they are EPs. That’s not enough music when this quality exists.

Songs o’ the Year:

Why give you one when I can give you twenty-seven? Why twenty-seven? That’s my secret. Now, I’ve talked enough. Go out there and enjoy some music, friends. And enjoy this photo of my dogs eating. And the Dolphlet admiring them!



Thus Spoke

I’ve been blindsided by the year’s end again, and now have to find some interesting things to say about 2025. Other than the fact that I turned 3010, my main personal Thing ov Significance is that I managed to land myself a new job, which I’ll start in the new year.11 Don’t worry, though, I won’t be girl-bossing too hard to have time for AMG.

Musically, 2025 has been a (small) step down from 2024 for me, although this could just be due to my attention deficit. I’ve had my finger less firmly on the pulse in the last six months, such that several albums, by artists I like, many on this list, either took me completely by surprise on release day, or crossed my radar barely any sooner, thanks to me actually checking Slack for once. I don’t have any well-defined excuse for this outside of plain old burnout plus terrible organization. On the other hand, the fact that I didn’t review most of my favorite records this year means that I can bat away criticisms of self-indulgence by having a year-end list mostly comprised of albums I didn’t write about. One thing I am happy to have achieved this year is running my first AMG Ranking piece on Panopticon. It might be the most verbose and least exciting of its kind for the majority of site readers, but being forced to immerse myself that extensively in the discography of an artist I love was very cool (albeit intense).

Speaking of my own erratic presence at HQ, leads me on to the hiatus (official or not) of several wonderful people among the staff, particularly my list-buddy Maddog, whom I miss very much. They all have good reasons, and I support them immensely, even if it means fewer of their excellent reviews. Fortunately, we’ve also welcomed many newcomers to our ranks who can pick up my slack in their stead, and whose reviews help me improve my own writing whilst also appending to the endless list of Things I Must Listen To.

As my extensive yapping here shows, my ability to meet a word count hasn’t improved much. Before finally moving on to the list, I’ll take the chance to reiterate my gratitude for everyone reading this, and some people who might not be. Thank you to all the staff for collectively making this all possible, and giving me the opportunity to speak about music and for people—you guys—to actually read it. Thank you for reading. Even if our tastes are completely opposed and you think I’m wrong about everything, I’m glad you’re here.

Now for the bit people actually care about.

#ish. Panopticon // Songs of Hiraeth – Quietly12 released alongside Laurentian Blue, Songs of Hiraeth is a collection of songs composed between 2009-2011 that never saw the light of day. In it, you can hear the incredible development of Panopticon’s signature emotionally swelling black metal style in this period, and this record, like virtually all of them, as I repeated in my ranking blurbs, is gorgeously, absorbingly heartfelt and powerful. Unlike you might expect, it actually increases in intensity as it progresses (for me), with the final trifecta of “The End is Drawing Near,” “A Letter,” and “The Eulogy” all gunning for my Songs o’ the Year playlist with first devastating rage and fury, then heartbroken solemnity and sublime melody throughout. I guess it’s not fully in the list purely because it’s not a ‘proper’ new release, or whatever.

#10. Grima // Nightside – It could have been easy to forget about Grima, given its dropping right on the cusp of the stacked Spring release season we had this year, and the fact that I didn’t instantly mark it down for a TYMHM as with Clouds. But I didn’t forget. Despite their wintry aesthetic, Grima’s music warms my heart with folky magic and ardent blackened blizzards. Nightside is no exception, its warmth coming this time from a renewed emphasis on the atmosphere and bayan after the higher energies of Frostbitten. I love intense, harsh, frosty black metal, and I love how Grima do it (“Impending Death Premonition,” “Where We are Lost”). But what I love most of all about Grima is how they pair that with their folky tendencies, and the way—as Sharky pointed out—Vilhelm’s rasps graze over it all. This culminates, for me, in the more mournful and urgent tone of several tracks on Nightside, where intense moments still feel dreamlike (“The Nightside”), and vocals breathe like ghostly whispers (“Mist and Fog”). It’s not my favorite Grima record (that’s probably Rotten Garden), but being a Grima record at all, given their caliber, means it’s bloody great and has to be on my list.

#9. Bianca // Bianca – Here’s an excellent example of a record I very likely would never have heard were it not for the AMG writer community. And wow, am I grateful I did. Ken‘s description alone caught my interest, let alone the tidbit that the project includes two members of another 2025 favorite of mine, Patristic.13 It takes familiar concepts from metal, both post—ethereal atmospheres and haunting singing—and extreme—sky-piercing shrieks, undulating, relentless double-bass, and tangled guitar blizzards—but sounds like nothing else. Even in combining these elements, Bianca stands alone. The coalescence of blackened, doomed, ambient layers is mesmerizing, the pitches upward into mania, and lapses back into mournful mystique, captivating. Throat-gripping furor arrests me more inextricably than almost anything else this year (“Abysmal,” “Nachthexe”), and transcendent melodies forged from this black fire lift me fully out of my body (“Abysmal,” “Todestrieb”). I’ve been in love since.

#8. Der Weg Einer Freiheit // Innern – Innern’s influence on me was subtle and insidious. I would just put it on, be absorbed—or be sucked back in periodically, if I was working and not concentrating on it—and suddenly it would end. Then I’d listen to it again. Der Weg Einer Freiheit has been developing their particular intense, dark, atmospheric kind of (post-) black over the last decade or so, and with Innern, it’s approaching an apex. Through endlessly enveloping compositions, filled with fury and urgency (“Marter”) or solemn reflection and introspection (“Eos,” “Forlorn”), that flow seamlessly out of one another, Innern folds you insidiously into its depths. Compelling melodies, dynamic rushing percussion, and here-dramatic, there-soft-spoken vocals, each taking pieces and incorporating trials from Der Weg Einer Freiheit’s career so far, drive the thematic compositional thread through irresistibly. From the anticipatory opening shudders to the ebbing chords at its close, Innern is an experience best taken whole, and one I’ve indulged in countless times to go on this magnetic journey once again.

#7. Paradise Lost // Ascension – I never thought this would land here when first announced. Sure, I like Paradise Lost, but their back-catalog is so mixed (in style, let alone quality), that ‘liking’ them for me comes down to enjoying a handful of their now 17 albums. Even the singles’ being good failed to stir anything more than curiosity, given my experience with intra-album inconsistency. But when Ascension did finally grace my ears in full, it appropriately transcended any doubts and softened my heart towards these doom icons again.14 Paradise Lost were heavy again, melancholic and mopey again—in a cool, atmospheric way—and Ascension just flowed, with grungy aggression and sadboi introspection in perfect equilibrium. This easy, natural duality that characterizes Gothic metal, and Paradise Lost themselves as genre pioneers, when they’re at the top of their game, is exemplified in Ascension. Hopefully, the group can stay on this trajectory for number 18, if that comes.

#6. Clouds // Desprins – I don’t understand how Clouds are as good as they are. I mean this as no insult to the musicians; what stuns me is the depth of pathos, and the consistency with which they deliver it, given the relatively understated and idiosyncratic manner in which they execute it. Their characteristic flute-folk-funeral doom is so ethereally, painfully sad without being overwrought, melodramatic, or crushing. It took my n00bish breath away four years ago, and this year Desprins came and took it again; this time with pieces of my soul attached. The music is just so beautiful—unrelentingly bleak, but beautiful, and Clouds’ balance of the dark and the light through the synths and acoustics, and apathetic spoken-word is exquisite and deeply affecting. These composite melodies, swelling and trilling softly, are transportive for me—particularly “Life Becomes Lifeless,” “Chain Me,” “Sorrowbound,” and “Chasing Ghosts.” Desprins is everything I want funeral doom to be: a prolonged dream-state of melancholy that paradoxically brings me joy.

#5. Deafheaven // Lonely People with Power – I have never been a Deafheaven fan. In all honesty, I’m still not. Lonely People with Power fires me up and fills my soul, while the rest of their discography continues to leave me completely cold. It seems that, briefly departing from metal entirely with Infinite Granite, has matured their sound, adding layers to their edgy blackgaze. Even when indifferent, I never understood the scorn their music generates, and now that I’ve fallen for Lonely People with Power, it makes even less sense. Not only is the way Deafheaven are combining rich, beautiful melodies with—yes—brilliant black metal simply lovely to listen to, slick, seamless, sharp, etc, it’s also distinctive and engrossing. That’s before even getting into how emotionally resonant it is. And it’s not even like this means it can’t be heavy—heck, one of these tracks is on my Heavy Moves Heavy playlist. It’s not ‘cringe’; it’s a phenomenal record and one of the best to release this year.

#4. 1914 // Viribus Unitis – I have always been most moved—emotionally and aesthetically—by 1914’s brand of WWI-themed blackened-death than any other like act. Viribus Unitis somehow outdoes Where Fear and Weapons Meet, and possibly all of the band’s previous efforts, for evocativeness and being straightforward and compelling. From the now hallmark bookends “War In/Out” to frequent samples to lyrics infused with real soldier testimony, Viribus Unitis envelops the listener in this portal to the past through 1914’s most powerful, urgently melodic compositions. Every song is heavy, dramatic, and snappy in just the right amounts, resulting in a series of back-to-back bangers that also occasionally really, really hit home emotionally. “1918 Pt 3: ADE (A duty to escape)” does all the above to perfection and has received an almost embarrassing number of replays in the short time since release. But “1919 (The Home where I Died)” did actually make me cry,15 and its fade into “War Out” is the perfect end to the monumental achievement Viribus Unitis represents.

#3. Patristic // Catechesis – It seems that every year, I review one particular atmospheric-dissonant death metal record which dominates my listening in that subgenre, and instantly secures a year-end list spot. In 2023, Serpent of Old, last year Ulcerate16, and this year Patristic. Catechesis was an immediate, visceral love for me, and not once since June has it left rotation. Sinister and dark, but irresistible in its seamlessly flowing, captivating macro-composition narrated by roars and solemn sermonizing; it ends far too soon. And in addition to being beautifully atmospheric and magnetic in melody and dissonance alike, it stands out for truly insane performances in their own right. Specifically, the drumming, which continues to blow my mind and propels Catechesis from greatness into excellence with hypnotic, intelligent rhythmic interplay. Patristic’s uncanny ability to make extreme, inaccessible music incomprehensibly engrossing and a magnificent expression of its concept are why I can’t stop listening to Catechesis, and why it’s almost the best record of 2025.

#2. Qrixkuor // The Womb of the World – Much like reviewer Kenstrosity, whereas Qrixkuor’s debut Poison Palinopsia rewired my brain with its brilliance, I found follow-up Zoetrope a tad underwhelming. When said sponge began to hint, and then gush unstoppably about the duo’s second full-length, The Womb of the World, which was in his possession, vague hope turned to giddy excitement. Not only the twisted, psychedelic horror of their signature freeform blackened death would await me, but also a full live orchestra. Yet I still don’t think anything could have adequately prepared me for how massive and mad The Womb of the World actually is. With the strings, horns, and piano swooping and crashing about in great surges and falls, Qrixkuor’s already grandiose style fully feels like some tormented classical opus, and it’s utterly magnificent. Things so small as my words can’t do justice to the way the eerie and intense lurching orchestrals, maniacal snarling voices, and cavernous extreme metal combine to create some of the best things I have ever heard, ever. Weirdly memorable and violently compelling despite its monstrosity, I’ve become completely addicted to it since. Ken himself said, it is “a mastapeece for those to whom sanity is immaterial,” when he rightfully deemed it ‘Excellent’. If I must rescind soundness of mind to so esteem The Womb of the World, I will do so gladly.

#1. Cave Sermon // Fragile Wings – Last year, Divine Laughter went from unknown to #5 on my year-end list in about 2 weeks, so when I found out there was a follow-up—thanks to my new Flippered list buddy—I dropped everything.17 My stratospheric expectations were not only met, but they were lifted into outer space. I would fear for Cave Sermon’s ability to deliver in the future, but Fragile Wings itself dismisses any trepidation. So recognizably, uniquely Cave Sermon, it displays a new, more uplifting interpretation of their sound. A commenter pointed out the lack of reference to So Hideous in my review, and in retrospect, I see their point, at least in degree: the two projects are similarly experimental and impressively novel-sounding without actually feeling avant-garde. But there is just something about Cave Sermon that puts them in an entirely different category of genius—for me. Fragile Wings is playful but not silly; it’s complex but memorable, groovy, and fun; it’s dissonant and strange, but it’s organic, harmonious, and digestible. The idea that just one person is behind this18 makes it that much more mind-blowing. At this rate, there could well be another Cave Sermon record next year, and on the current trajectory, it may finally land this fantastic artist the official Iconic status they have always deserved.

Honorable Mentions:

• Dormant Ordeal // Tooth and Nail – Hands-down my favorite Dormant Ordeal album so far. Heavy, groovy, and eminently-listenable, it really got its claws into me—especially during gym sessions shortly after release. It did fall out of my rotation quite substantially, in favor of its rivals above, thus putting it here.
• Primitive Man // Observance – When Observance dropped, and I was listening for the first time, I badly tried to describe Primitive Man to my partner (not a metal fan) over WhatsApp as “being crushed by a big rock really slowly, but in a good way.” Obviously, they didn’t know what I was on about, but Spicie Forrest seems to with his much better analogy of “being imprisoned and forgotten in a lightless pit.” Primitive Man has always made silly-heavy, scary-huge music, but Observance clicked with me like nothing else in their discography prior. I am indeed helplessly crushed and held prisoner.
• Blut Aus Nord // Ethereal Horizons – I think if this had dropped just a tiny bit earlier, it could have ended up on my list proper. Blut Aus Nord has always been one of those artists I know I do enjoy, but for some reason has never fully clicked for me. Ethereal Horizons felt immediately more enthralling. It’s more atmospheric, more darkly melodic, more blackened in its heaviness, and through it all, possibly more frightening.

Songs of the Year

• Cave Sermon – “Ancient for Someone”
• Panopticon – “A Letter”
• Panopticon – “The Poppies Bloom For No King”
• Patristic – “A Vinculis Soluta II”
• Qrixkuor – “The Womb of the World”
• Bianca – “Abysmal”
• Deafheaven – “The Garden Route”
• Nephylim – “Amaranth”
• Clouds – “Sorrowbound”
• 1914 – “1918 Pt 3 A.D.E (A Duty to Escape)”
• Der Weg Einer Freiheit – “Marter”
• Primitive Man – “Natural Law”



Show 18 footnotes

Tyme

I’ve spent much of my 2025 thinking about privilege. Not in the sense that the media has conditioned me, or us, to think about it, but in a way that I’ve employed to shift some of the mundane aspects of life onto their respective heads. For instance, it’s a privilege to look in my closet and have to decide what to wear each day. It’s a privilege to look in my kitchen pantry to figure out what I’ll eat for breakfast or, better yet, which coffee cup I’ll drink from. I could go on, but there’s a word limit to these intros. Suffice to say, I really tried to dwell on my blessings rather than my challenges this year.

And despite the blessings of my professional life, which bestowed upon me the incredible privilege of being really fucking busy for the last “whatever” number of months, I’ve been equally, yet much less facetiously, blessed in my personal endeavors as well. For, in addition to having a bountiful roof over my head, a vehicle to get me back and forth to my extremely privileged job, a dog I can honestly say I will have NO idea how to say goodbye to if I don’t go first, and a wife that, despite the ups and downs of a normal, healthy marriage, continues to love me, I have the distinct privilege of contributing my trve opinions on all things musically heavy, or adjacently heavy, here on the best heavy metal blog in the world! And now comes the part where I give thanks.

Thank you, first and foremost, to everyone who reads this blog every day. Without you, none of this would be worth doing. At least for me, who read, lurked, and commented for years before working up the courage to actually apply for this subservient existence. Thank you to this newest crop of freshly demoted n00bs and to my list mate Killjoy and the rest of the Freezer Freaks Crew—Alekhines Gun, Owlswald, and Clarkkent1—who, through perseverance and a buttload of patience, managed to survive nearly two years on ice to land in the crosshairs of the commentariat’s adverse, and always wrong, opinions.2,3 Thanks as well, to ALL the senior staff who are way nicer than they’d have you believe,4 except Grier, who’s even nicer than everyone else. And finally, the editors, the man himself, Dr. AMG, for seeing enough in me to bring me over, and Steel, who runs the tightest, most compassionate ship I’ve ever had the privilege of sailing on. Thanks, boss!

Now! To the LIST!!!

#ish. Antinoë // The Fold – When I snagged this late-year gem back in November, I had no idea it would have me shuffling my list. With a little more time, I’m sure it would have moved up the ladder, but as it stands, Antinoë grabbed my (ish) spot easily. With little to no instrumentation beyond her piano, Teresa Marraco crafted something so beautiful in its basic-ness that I was entranced. Her delicate melodies evoke vibes that are as much Darkher or Tori Amos5 as they are Emperor or Dimmu Borgir, and I am definitely here for it.

#10. King Witch // III – In a year when Messa released a new album as well, the fact that King Witch is sitting on my year-end proper list and not Sara Bianchin and company speaks volumes about the job Laura Donnelly, Jamie Gilchrist, and Rory Lee did on III. Whether crooning over wispy acoustics or belting out doomily powerful tones over rock-heavy riffs, Donnelly is the star of the show, and her performance had me swooning. From the minute I first heard “Suffer in Life” with its swing-heavy riffs and killer vocals, I was happy to take King Witch’s III for a spin over and over, and it’s been part of my regular rotation since summer.

#9. Imperishable // Revelation in Purity – As the year wore on, I became increasingly sure that I may have underrated Imperishable’s Revelation in Purity. In fact, I found myself returning to it several times, forgoing subsequent spins of albums I’d rated higher. With their Nile and Olkoth pedigree, Imperishable’s expert blend of blackened death metal hit an overtly swirling sweet spot for me. The songwriting on Revelation in Purity, while not groundbreaking, is expertly executed, rendering its quality undeniable. And when you toss in those very Alice in Chains-like grunge passages, akin to a cherry on top, it was easy for me to put Revelation in Purity on my year-end list.

#8. Mutagenic Host // The Diseased Machine – Mutagenic Host’s The Diseased Machine was the first album I successfully coveted and secured from the sump pit alllll the way back in January of this year. As a freshly demoted staff member at the time, I was overly excited at the opportunity to take it on, and the album surely didn’t disappoint. Mutagenic Host does death metal the way I like it: low-brow, Neanderthalic, and brutally chuggy. It’s a tenuous thing to run across something you deem so good so early in the year, but The Diseased Machine has definitely stood the test of Tyme and proved worth every point of the quarter-pounder I placed on it.

#7. Igorrr // Amen – My fancy with Igorrr has always been somewhat of a passing one. I was nowhere near the listener who would’ve been part of the band’s early target audience (Mousissure, Nostril). Still, I found more common ground with 2017’s Savage Sinusoid and even more with 2020’s Spirituality and Distortion. But when those first electronic beats of Amen’s opening track, “Daemoni,” poured out of my speakers for the first time, I was completely plugged in to Igorrr’s chaotically beautiful brand of metal madness. Amen’s surprisingly accessible break-cored, trip-hopped blackened death ‘baroque’ it’s big boot off in my ass, and I’ve been relishing and wallowing in its avant-garde pain ever since.

#6. Cave Sermon // Fragile Wings – Cave Sermon’s Divine Laughter was something I’d definitely missed out on in 2024. When Thus Spoke covered Cave Sermon’s rapid follow-up, Fragile Wings, in April, however, I vowed I wouldn’t sleep on Charlie Park’s solo black metal project this time around. And I’m certainly glad I didn’t. Words like ‘wistful,’ ‘exuberant,’ and ‘playful’ were tossed about in Thus’s excellent write-up and really homed in on what made listening to Fragile Wings such a connective experience for me. Imbued as Fragile Wings is with upbeat sadness, Cave Sermon proved that I can get on board with post metal, and to be honest, any metal that sounds this good is worth the time spent. And seriously, what is that cover?!6

#5. Crippling Alcoholism // Camgirl – Inspired by a subreddit I’m glad I never stumbled across, Crippling Alcoholism’s provocative moniker steels those who’d approach the band’s output with a certain sense of visceral anticipation before hearing even one note. My love for the disturbingly creepy With Love from a Padded Room led me to the pink, candy-wrapped murderpop of Camgirl with nary a moment’s hesitation. I gladly signed on to plumb the depths of weirdness I knew would exist, but could not have anticipated the absolute fathomless darkness lurking within Camgirl’s saccharine sweetness, especially as revealed with subsequent spins. A disturbing diatribe on hopelessness, disappointment, loneliness, and sex in the digital age, Camgirl wraps its message in a deceivingly poppy form of electronica that, when all is said and done, will have you wondering what the fuck just happened. I love it.

#4. Dax Riggs // 7 Songs for Spiders – Dax Riggs may be one of the more underrated artists of the last thirty years, and while I know I’m not the only one who rejoiced in the recent resurgence and subsequent touring schedule of one of the ’90s best sludge acts, Acid Bath, I also realized a new album will probably never materialize, at least not under that moniker. Instead, the universe graced us with 7 Songs for Spiders, Dax’s first solo effort in nearly 15 years. Filled with simplistically haunting melodies sung in Riggs’s inimitable style, 7 Songs for Spiders strummed every one of my fuzzed-out, laid-back heart strings and has remained consistently satisfying since its January release.

#3. Maud the Moth // The Distaff – I stumbled across Maud the Moth in 2023 while exploring the ever-expanding milieu of performers associated with my favorite artist Darkher. Searching Amaya López-Carromoero’s back catalog, I dove into 2015’s The Inner Wastelands and 2020’s Orphnē, emerging a fan of Maud the Moth’s quirky neo-classical piano-led operatics. When The Distaff popped up in the sump, I was glad to see Dolphin Whisperer snag it, knowing his words would do the album eloquent justice. Soaring in scope and execution, Maud the Moth proffers her most complex yet beautiful release to date. Filled with classically executed vocal acrobatics and massive amounts of intricate instrumentation, The Distaff is less a thing just to be listened to, as it is a thing to be wholly experienced. As immersive a piece of music as I’ve heard all year.

#2. Structure // Heritage – M-A-S-S-I-V-E is the word that best describes Structure’s Heritage, which is to say it’s big, sad, and “heavy as fook!”7 Every time I threw this beast on, and the album opener began crawling forth, it conjured the same cinematic image in my mind’s eye. A lone, bloodied warrior, fists clenched, head bowed, wind-swept and rain-soaked hair hanging down, muscles taut and twitching in furious sadness, standing in a field full of his fallen brethren as a lightning-laced deluge washed the blood of dead soldiers into the hungry ground. Then, slowly, he casts his gaze skyward, anguished tears streaming, contemplating his sole survivor existence, and screaming at the thunder-filled heavens “Will I deserve to live on?” Every time, that’s what I see when I listen to “Will I Deserve It,” and every time I break out in goose bumps with a lumpy throat and welling eyes. Heritage came as close to being my number one as to make the two offerings at the top of my 2025 list nearly interchangeable.

#1. Dormant Ordeal // Tooth and Nail – I know I underrated Dormant Ordeal’s fourth album, Tooth and Nail, for, despite giving it the 4.0 treatment, the sheer excellence of this record has only improved over time. April was THE month for me this year, yielding my two favorite metal releases and leaving Poland’s metal map deeply staked with a big, black-and-gold Dormant Ordeal flag. In true, warrior-like fashion, Maciej Nieścioruk and Maciej Proficz soldiered on without sole founding member Radek Kowal, which opened the door for Chase Westmoreland to waltz in and give my favorite drum performance of the year. From the brutally effective “Halo of Bones” to the excellent, Dylan Thomas-inspired “Against the Dying of the Light,” there wasn’t an album I returned to more this year than Tooth and Nail, its visceral riffs and razor-sharp edges leaving long-lasting scars. But in a good way, you know? It’s with profound pleasure that I dutifully crown Dormant Ordeal’s Tooth and Nail my album of the year.

Honorable Mentions

• Cryptopsy // An Insatiable Violence – This thing is an ass kicker. Full of satisfying death metal brutality and, like it or not, my favorite since the classic None So Vile.
• Pissgrave // Malignant Worthlessness – Thirty-one minutes of absolutely insane death metal that will melt your ears into maggot-infested pus. Soooooo good.
• Messa // The Spin – It’s Messa, fool! ‘Nuff said. There was no way I was getting out of 2025’s Listurnalia without mentioning the new album from one of my favorite doom bands.
• Depravity // Bestial Possession – This thing blew my socks off and, had I gotten more time to spend with it, might have threatened to rattle the cage of my list order for sure. Death metal done right.
• Diabolizer // Murderous Revelations – I had been in a death metal drought when I picked up Murderous Revelations; its traditional, no-frills approach hitting me hard. This one came so close to listing for me, I could smell its charred, crispy, burnt ends.
• Lipoma // No Cure for the Sick – Gurgly gore vocals over a circus parade of melodic death metal riffs. What’s not to like? I had tons of fun with this thing.
• Puteraeon // Mountains of Madness – Puteraeon was a band that had never been on my radar. Mountains of Madness’s mature aesthetic, great storyline, and engagingly crafted melodicism took me entirely by surprise.

Song o’ the Year:

‘Twas a mother-fookin’ toss up between my top 2 albums. I flipped a coin, so close was the race. (Heads) Structure // (Tails) Dormant Ordeal.

WINNER(?):

Structure – “Will I Deserve It” – Satisfyingly goose-bumpy!8

Killjoy

The fact that I’m writing this list feels nothing short of surreal. When I became a regular reader of this blog in 2019, I had a strong interest in metal but a knowledge of only a handful of its subgenres. I did not expect to make it this far when I auditioned, but somehow I became a member of the Freezer Crew. Although we were initially forced to huddle together for warmth to survive the n00b trials, as time went on, I developed a deep respect for all of my Crewmates. Their camaraderie and encouragement were great motivation for me to keep writing this year, even when it was tough. We were even allowed to organize a special edition Rodeö! I’m so proud to associate with them.

On a more somber note, I was sad to see many of the longtime writers who helped me fall in love with this site slip into the abyss we sometimes call “non-suspicious sabbatical.” While I will miss reading their eloquent words, their legacy and contributions will always influence and inspire me.

And now for some thank yous. I’m grateful to AMG Himself for creating the site and allowing me to run rampant with my questionable opinions. A gorilla-sized thanks to Steel Druhm for keeping day-to-day operations running and being the kindest, cruelest taskmaster I could hope for. Thank you to my list mate, Tyme, for making my musical tastes seem better by association. Finally, I’d like to publicly thank my wife for being so supportive of my new hobby.

I’m excited for what awaits in 2026 (which hopefully includes more power metal than I managed to review in 2025)!

#ish. Kauan // Wayhome – Kauan has demonstrated time and again that their ability to compose evocative soundscapes is unmatched in the post-rock sphere. Wayhome draws a little bit from different eras in Kauan’s fruitful career to form a richer, warmer experience. Each individual instrument—acoustic and electric guitars, strings, voice—is a crucial brush stroke in a breathtaking panorama. This is some of the most enchanting music I’ve ever heard.

#10. Anfauglir // Akallabêth – When I first grabbed Akallabêth for review, I was blissfully unaware of the 72-minute runtime (but probably should have had an inkling). After spending some time with it, I became blissfully aware of how awesome it is. Based on the chapter of Tolkien’s The Silmarillion chronicling the 3,000-year rise and fall of the island of Númenor, Akallabêth is as epic in sound as it is in scope. Mrs. Killjoy was more interested in the concept than the music, but it still made for some fun conversations. While the long runtime makes it a bit harder to revisit than the other entries on this list, this is my idea of a great symphonic black metal album.

#9. In Mourning // The Immortal – Progressive death metal comes in all shapes and sizes, and I tend to be drawn to the more emotive flavors. When Disillusion released Ayam a few years ago, it took me a while to understand the hype. In a similar manner, it took longer than it probably should have for me to appreciate The Immortal. I don’t know why this was, but in both cases I’m glad I stuck with them. In Mourning’s signature combination of earnest melodies and energetic riffs is now embedded in my mind and heart.

#8. Asira // As Ink in Water – Due to journalistic circumstances that I won’t discuss with fans, I was fortunate enough to obtain this promo earlier than I normally would have. Good thing, too, because As Ink in Water turned out to be a grower for me. The vocals proved much less popular in the comments than I anticipated, but they are the biggest reason why this record resonates with me. The buttery-smooth guitar and bass lines are another big factor. The fact that As Ink in Water was released during the tail end of 2025 might mean it appears on fewer top ten lists, but it should not be missed.

#7. Judicator // Concord – I don’t have a long history with Judicator. I am part of the seemingly small minority that prefers the post-Cordisco era, although I admit that I need to spend more time with their earlier work. Concord sees Judicator returning to their heavy/power metal roots after an experimental foray into progressive territory (which I also loved!). Other than brief saxophone and fiddle segments, there aren’t any fancy frills this time, only lots of guitar hooks and infectious choruses. And, in this case, that’s more than enough to make me happy.

#6. Valhalore // Beyond the Stars – I don’t normally see the point in quibbling about scores, however, I feel that Beyond the Stars was soundly underrated. It’s a distillation of everything I love about peak Eluveitie and Æther Realm. The folk instrumentation blends perfectly with the fast-paced melodic death metal elements. The interludes cleverly foreshadow and ease the listener into the subsequent songs. I also love the tender vocal performance by Anna Murphy towards the end. Beyond the Stars is a fun and emotional journey from start to finish.

#5. Gloombound // Dreaming Delusion – I’m always down to sample funeral doom, but it takes a very special kind to keep me coming back. Gloombound expertly walks the difficult balance between atmospheric and stimulating music. The overall sound is that of a soul trying to escape imprisonment, whether physical, emotional, or mental. Dreaming Delusion makes me feel different emotions every time I listen, but chief among them is a crushing awe.

#4. Phantom Spell // Heather & Hearth – I love uplifting, feel-good metal (this should not come as a surprise by now). So, it was almost inevitable that I would love the nostalgic keyboards and guitar solos of Heather & Hearth. But, for some reason, it took AMG’s landmark blog post about the evils of Spotify for me to really pay attention to Phantom Spell. I’m grateful I did, because I might have missed out on one of the most addictive pieces of progressive rock I’ve ever heard.

#3. Halocraft // The Sky Will Remember – Halocraft quickly became one of my favorite bands since I discovered them early this year. Their purposeful yet dreamy brand of post-rock is practically custom-made for me. This year, they expanded their creative limits by writing two very different records. I’m partial to The Sky Will Remember, but don’t miss out on its companion, To Leave a Single Wolf Alive, for a gloomier vibe. Their prior albums are really good too, and I listen to them just as often.

#2. An Abstract Illusion // The Sleeping City – “If not 4.5, then why 4.5 shaped?”, one of you rabble-rousers quipped about my review of The Sleeping City. The truth is, the more time I spend with it, the more I wonder if maybe I did underrate it. I’ve somehow grown to love The Sleeping City even more in the months since I awarded it a 4.0. Sure, the production leaves much to be desired, but there aren’t any other notable qualities that I would consider faults. It won’t appeal to the exact same audience as the legendary Woe, but I have plenty of room in my heart for both (and likely whatever An Abstract Illusion devises next). It was such an honor to write about this wondrous record.

#1. Black Narcissus // There Lingers One Who’s Long Forgotten – When I plucked There Lingers One Who’s Long Forgotten from the promo pit, I was a little skeptical about music made with only bass and drums. It turns out, though, that this minimalist approach—along with excellent songwriting, of course—was the key to unlocking a new realm of possibility within the post-rock genre. The bass blooms unfettered in this distraction-free biome, and the drum tone is crisp and refreshing. The two instruments intertwine to engender a spirit of companionship and exploration. There Lingers One Who’s Long Forgotten will always have a special place in my heart, and I am grateful to Black Narcissus for sharing this gift.

Honorable Mentions:

• Crimson Shadows // Whispers of War – As a parent of two children under age five, I am not often in the mood to be overstimulated by the media I consume. However, Whispers of War is so fun that I have to make an exception. The addition of melodic death metal feels like such a natural progression to the signature DragonForce style that conquered my naive teenage heart circa Guitar Hero III.
• Wyatt E. // Zamāru Ultu Qereb Ziqquratu Part 1 – My very first score safety violation! After spending more time with it, I can understand how some might see this as incomplete or underdeveloped, though I’m willing to give Wyatt E. the benefit of the doubt while I wait for Part 2.
• Bergfried // Romantik III – I’m a sucker for a good rock opera. Romantik III is undeniably rough around the edges, but not in a way that rubs off any of its charm. To the contrary, in my opinion.
• Moron Police // Pachinko – Talk about a late-year list disruptor! Pachinko is a wild and addictive whirlwind of prog/pop rock that I know for a fact I’ll still be spinning next year.
• Braia // Vertentes de lá e cá – Vibrant folk rock with a huge array of instruments and musical influences. This didn’t get nearly as much attention as it deserves.
• Aganoor // Doomerism – Okay, maaaaybe I overrated this by half a point. But it’s still really solid psychedelic stoner doom with catchy riffs and lush instrumental breaks.
• Ancient Bards // Artifex – Am I only including this one for sentimental reasons? Probably. But it does contain some of my favorite songs of the year (“My Prima Nox,” “Soulbound Symphony,” “My Blood and Blade”) that I still revisit regularly.

Song o’ the Year:

Judicator – “Concord”



Listurnalia is now upon us once again! If you are not ready to be assailed by non-stop lists and bad opinions for the next week and change, I suggest you get fooking ready! Listurnalia cannot be stopped, nor contained. It can only be tolerated and endured!

More than any year in recent history, 2025 saw more seasoned staffers step away from writing duties due to time constraints and life changes. To compensate for the loss of these slackwagoning quitters and shirkers, we added a gaggle of fresh new voices. This made for a bittersweet time around these parts as long-time friends departed and a bunch of untested, unknowns rose through the brutal n00b gauntlet to seize the means of promo production. These greenhorn neophytes have created great havoc at AMG HQ with their terrible taste, inability to follow directions, and steadfast refusal to ignore deathcore.

We’ve been here before, though, and we always straighten out the newbie upstarts. The daily beatings, deprivations, and absence of positive reinforcement will wear them down, and if not, we have plenty of space in the rotpit out back. This is, and will ever be, the AMG modality.

2026 will be an interesting year as the new crew members are shepherded by the olde while everyone is crushed beneath the iron heel of AMG management. Who will make it to 2027? Who will be sold off to Metal Wani for a box of bananas and Gorilla Glue? Place your bets in the official AMG Survival Pool!

As you read the Top Ten(ish) lists below, remember, reading our content is free, but you get what you pay for.

Grymm

#10. Venomous Echoes // Dysmor
#9. Blut Aus Nord // Ethereal Horizons
#8. Dormant Ordeal // Tooth and Nail
#7. Structure // Heritage
#6. Lorna Shore // I Feel The Everblack Festering Within Me
#5. Sigh // I Saw The World’s End – Hangman’s Hymn MMXXV
#4. Imperial Triumphant // Goldstar
#3. Am I In Trouble? // Spectrum
#2. Dax Riggs // 7 Songs for Spiders
#1. Paradise Lost // Ascension – I fully expected Paradise Lost to come out with quality music, which has been mostly par for the course in their storied almost-40-year career, and no one could blame them if they decided to coast along on their legendary sound. Instead, Ascension sees them giving a masterclass in songcraft and atmosphere, showing everyone, everywhere, how it’s done. With Black Sabbath now officially put to rest, Anathema long gone, and whatever the fuck is happening within My Dying Bride these days, somebody has to fly the British Doom flag high and proud, and Paradise Lost have done a bang-up job of doing so.

Personal Highlight o’ the Year: Seeing Acid Bath live. I may or may not have cried during “Venus Blue,” and no, I don’t fucking care. 19-Year-Old me was pleased as punch that 48-Year-Old me got to see a legendary band (and one of his personal favorites) come back from tragedy to pay tribute to their fallen bassist and friend, Audie Pitre, by giving it another long-awaited go.

Disappointment(s) o’ the Year:

• Losing so many influential heroes (RIP Ozzy Osbourne, Ace Frehley, and Tomas Lindberg, among too many others)
• My health: I was hoping to be a lot more active this year, but early on, I needed to, in the immortal words of David Lynch, “fix (my) heart or die.”1 Thankfully, after surgery, I feel a million times better, so you should see a lot more of me in 2026. You have been warned.

Song o’ the Year:

• Paradise Lost // “Salvation”

El Cuervo

#ish. Astronoid // Stargod
#10. Ollie Wride // The Pressure Point
#9. Kauan // Wayhome
#8. Zéro Absolu // La Saignée
#7. Mutagenic Host // The Diseased Machine
#6. Asira // As Ink in Water
#5. Bruit // The Age of Ephemerality
#4. Saor // Amidst the Ruins
#3. The Midnight // Syndicate
#2. Steven Wilson // The Overview
#1. Messa // The Spin – In a year replete with comfort picks—progressive rock, synthwave, and death metal abound—how is that Italy’s enigmatic, inscrutable Messa forged my Album o’ the Year? The Spin doesn’t take the trouble to make itself easily approachable. Doom, prog, and post influences circle around velvety melodies that sometimes sound like deliberate songs, and sometimes like jazz improvisation. But it’s these very qualities that belie its subtle allure; only with repetition and attention does The Spin shine. Messa gradually reveals rhythmic motifs, instrumental nuances, and rich compositions that enhance my life on so many days. “The Dress,” especially, is stunning. And though the record’s loungey whimsy defies metal conventions, each track prizes genuine grit through its top-drawer guitar riffs. With the devotion it demands, no record from 2025 was more rewarding than The Spin.

Honorable Mentions:

• Décryptal – Simulacre
• An Abstract Illusion – The Sleeping City
• Puteraeon – Mountains of Madness
• Hasard – Abgnose

Song o’ the Year:

• Ambush – “Maskirovka”



GardensTale

#ish. Structure // Heritage
#10. In Mourning //The Immortal
#9. Flummox // Southern Progress
#8. Der Weg Einer Freiheit // Innern
#7. Nephylim // Circuition
#6. Besna // Krásno
#5. Messa // The Spin
#4. Labyrinthus Stellarum // Rift in Reality
#3. Gazpacho // Magic 8 Ball
#2. Dormant Ordeal// Tooth & Nail
#1. Moron Police // Pachinko — I was a little nervous when I first read about the length and ambition behind Pachinko, especially in the context of the incredible and very concise A Boat on the Sea. I’ve never been this happy to be this wrong. Nothing in the last decade has overtaken my life as much as Pachinko has, and I’m listening to it yet again as I write this, and will probably restart it once it finishes. Pachinko has a lot in common with Everything Everywhere All At Once, one of my all-time favorite films, as a treatise on the chaos of life and the importance of friends and family. It treats its philosophy of silliness very seriously, laughing in the face of darkness in such a beautiful and inspiring way; it brightens my life every time I hear it. And it does all that in tribute to a dear friend who was gone too soon and too suddenly, and no other eulogistic album has let me feel like its subject’s soul touched mine. An astounding monument to friendship on top of an incredibly accomplished hour of music. Pachinko is a miracle.

Honorable Mentions:

• Hangover in Minsk // Party is Over
• 1914 // Viribus Unitis
• Bianca // Bianca
• Fange // Purulences
• An Abstract Illusion // The Sleeping City
• Blindfolded // What Seeps Through Threads

Song o’ the Year:

• Moron Police – “Giving up the Ghost”



Non-metal Albums of the Year:

• Lorde // Virgin
• Jonathan Hultén // Eyes of the Living Night
• Shayfer James // Summoning

Mark Z.

#ish. Malefic Throne // The Conquering Darkness
#10. Urn // Demon Steel
#9. Teitanblood // From the Visceral Abyss
#8. Shed the Skin // The Carnage Cast Shadows
#7. Guts // Nightmare Fuel
#6. Dormant Ordeal // Tooth and Nail
#5. Perdition Temple // Malign Apotheosis
#4. Paradise Lost // Ascension
#3. Revocation // New Gods, New Masters
#2. Death Yell // Demons of Lust
#1. Abominator // The Fire Brethren – It took me a few years after hearing this Australian duo’s last album, 2015’s Evil Proclaimed, to realize I was wrong about them. Their raw and relentless black-death metal wasn’t just good, it was fucking awesome. With their long-awaited sixth album, The Fire Brethren, Abominator has conjured flames that reach higher than ever. As always, the enraged rasps, scorching riffs, and endlessly pummeling rhythms are like plumes of hellfire shot directly into your ear canals. But amidst the bludgeoning is some genuinely great songwriting, with deep-cutting hooks (“The Templar’s Curse,” “Underworld Vociferations”), flashes of melody (“Progenitors of the Insurrection of Satan”), thrashy breaks (“Sulphur from the Heavens”), and just enough variety to keep everything hitting as hard as possible. It’s not for everyone, but for those into Angelcorpse and other music of that sort, The Fire Brethren is the type of album you just can’t get enough of.

Honorable Mention:

• Blasphamagoatachrist // Bestial Abominator

Song (Title) o’ the Year:

• Omegavortex – “Dystopian Worldrape”

Song o’ the Year:

• Fugitive – “Spheres of Virulence”



Carcharodon

#ish. Dax Riggs // 7 Songs for Spiders
#10. Novarupta // Astral Sands
#9. Atlantic // Timeworn
#8. Structure // Heritage
#7. Agriculture // The Spiritual Sound
#6. Igorr // Amen
#5. Messa // The Spin
#4. Abigail Williams // A Void Within Existence
#3. Cave Sermon // Fragile Wings
#2. Dormant Ordeal // Tooth and Nail
#1. Grima // Nightside – In each of 2019, 2021, and 2022, Grima released an album and, in each of those years, I listed said album (#5, HM, and #10). But this year, the year in which I have listened to the least metal and, of course, written the least since I started here in 2018, is also the year that Grima got everything dialled in to just what I want from a Grima album. On Nightside, the duo struck the perfect balance between the traditional influences of 2019’s Will of the Primordial and the propulsive, frozen atmosphere of Frostbitten (2022). The combination gives Nightside an almost hypnotic and weirdly tranquil flow, offset by Vilhelm’s rasping vocals, which remain among the best in the BM game. Every time I come back to this record, and the title track in particular, it’s even better than I remember it being, and I always end up spinning three or more times back-to-back. An album that can keep playing that trick deserves its #1 spot in my book.

Honorable Mentions:

• An Abstract Illusion // The Sleeping City
• Gorycz // Zasypia
• Psychonaut // World Maker
• Wardruna // Birna

Songs o’ the Year:

• Messa – “Fire on the Roof”



• Novarupta – “Now Here We Are (At the Inevitable End)”

Mysticus Hugebeard

#10. Orbit Culture // Death Above Life
#9. An Abstract Illusion // The Sleeping City
#8. Qrixkuor // The Womb of the World
#7. Dormant Ordeal // Tooth and Nail
#6. Panopticon // Laurentian Blue
#5. Blackbraid // Blackbraid III
#4. Arkhaaik // Uihtis
#3. Kauan // Wayhome
#2. Wardruna // Birna
#1. Thumos // The Trial of Socrates – I recall groggily stumbling upon Thumos’ The Trial of Socrates at work one early morning, and I’m not sure if I’ve grown attached to it or it’s grown attached to me. It looms in my periphery, routinely interrupting my listening schedule for just one more spin. This gargantuan dive into ancient Greek philosophy and justice is melodically rich, laden with atmosphere, and fiercely intelligent. I love how this album stimulates my curiosity. I pore over The Trial of Socrates like a madman, piecing the puzzle together with feverish glee but never quite feeling finished, because every re-listen yields new shapes, new colors, new ideas. It eggs me on to research various topics on ancient Greek history or philosophy, and even made for an unlikely study partner during my long preparations for the German A1 exam. I always feel smarter by the end of it—hubris, I’m sure, but The Trial of Socrates genuinely sparks my imagination in ways few albums do. Time to go listen to “The Phædo” for the zillionth time.

Honorable Mentions:

• Night Flight Orchestra // Give Us The Moon
• Mutagenic Host // The Diseased Machine

Songs o’ the Year:

• Disarmonia Mundi – “Outcast”

The Dormant Stranger by Disarmonia Mundi

• Jamie Page & Marcy Nabors – “Do No Harm (Ventricular Mix)”

Do No Harm by Jamie Paige, Marcy Nabors, & Penny Parker

• Thumos – “The Phædo”

The Trial of Socrates by Thumos

Disappointment(s) o’ the year:

• The dissolution of Ante-Inferno: After Death’s Soliloquy topped my list last year, I was genuinely gutted to see Ante-Inferno’s post that they were no more. Still, I shall not weep but rather smile that they happened, because Ante-Inferno was a rare breed of genuinely moving black metal. Just that one album rooted itself so deeply within me, and I will be listening for a long time.
• Arno Menses leaving Subsignal: Man, fuck. Fuck. Remember my nuclear-grade glaze of Subsignal, where I might as well have said Menses’ voice single-handedly justified the entire existence of music? How could I not break down in heaving sobs in the middle of this Denny’s when I heard that Menses and Subsignal have parted ways? It sucks, I tell ya. I will still listen to what Subsignal puts out in the future, because Markus Steffen is a talented musician, but it’s going to be a huge adjustment since Menses is nigh irreplaceable.

Samguineous Maximus

#ish. Imperial Triumphant // Goldstar
#10. Primitive Man // Observance
#9. Motherless // Do You Feel Safe?
#8. Deafheaven // Lonely People with Power
#7. Weeping Sores // The Convalescence Agonies
#6. Between the Buried and Me // The Blue Nowhere
#5. Calva Louise // Edge of the Abyss
#4. 1914 // Viribus Unitis
#3. Crippling Alcoholism // Camgirl
#2. Crippling Alcoholism // Bible Songs II
#1. Yellow Eyes // Confusion Gate – Yellow Eyes are one of the best black metal bands in the game, and Confusion Gate is their most impressive work to date. It sees the band return to a more traditional atmospheric sound, but with the lessons learned from their explorations of dissonance and ambience. The result is a kaleidoscopic blend of gorgeous melodies, haunting riffs, and a pervasive sense of pathos that only the best art can achieve. Confusion Gate feels like communing with nature from the top of a wintry peak, embodying both impossible grandeur and awesome terror. This is a record that bypasses the analytical reviewer’s brain and just hits me right in the feeling. It offers a unique catharsis in a year where I truly needed it.

Honorable Mentions

• Flummox // Southern Progress
• Hexrot // Formless Ruin of Oblivion
• Ava Mendoza/Gabby fluke-Mogal/Carolina Pérez // Mama Killa
• Strigiform // Aconite

Song o’ the Year:

• Crippling Alcoholism – “Ladies Night”



Spicie Forrest

#ish. Cryptopsy // An Insatiable Violence
#10. Crimson Shadows // Whispers of War
#9. Oromet // The Sinking Isle
#8. -ii- // Apostles of the Flesh
#7. Suncraft // Welcome to the Coven
#6. Suncraft // Profanation of the Adamic Covenant
#5. Chestcrush // ΨΥΧΟΒΓΑΛΤΗΣ
#4. Dormant Ordeal // Tooth and Nail
#3. Qrixkuor // The Womb of the World
#2. Primitive Man // Observance
#1. Wytch Hazel // V: Lamentations – I know, I’m surprised too. But the bottom line is that I’ve been listening to V: Lamentations front to back at least once a week since it released on the most American of holidays, July 4th. For Steel, Wytch Hazel’s latest didn’t have the same staying power as previous efforts, but Lamentations is the first to truly resonate with me. Though musically consistent with their Wishbone Ash-meets-Eagles style, vocalist Colin Hendra brings a new sense of passion to the record, and the interplay between instruments, vocals, and lyrics hits me like a lightning bolt. Very possibly inspired by the core Christian tenet laid out in Romans 6:23-24,2 Lamentations is a masterful portrayal of what it means to perpetually fail, to know you’ll never be good enough, and in the face of a salvation that renders all efforts, deeds, and accomplishments worthless, to keep striving toward the impossible anyway. Even for godless sinners like me, Lamentations is a beautiful reminder that purpose is found in hardship, that the journey is the goal, and that falling down is merely an opportunity to stand up again.

Honorable Mentions:

• Proscription // Desolate Divine
• Apocalypse Orchestra // A Plague upon Thee
• Messa // The Spin
• Bloodywood // Nu Delhi
• Pedestal for Leviathan // Enter: Vampyric Manifestation

Song o’ the Year:

• Yellowcard – “honestly i”

Grin Reaper

(ish) Sallow Moth // Mossbane Lantern
#10. Turian // Blood Quantum Blues
#9. Calva Louise // Edge of the Abyss
#8. Lychgate // Precipice
#7. An Abstract Illusion // The Sleeping City
#6. Thron // Vurias
#5. Structure // Heritage
#4. Species // Changelings
#3. Havukruunu // Tavastland
#2. Aephanemer // Utopie
#1. 1914 // Viribus Unitis – I didn’t know Viribus Unitis would be my top album of the year the first time I listened to it, but I knew it would list. 1914’s naked emotion and rousing story of a Ukrainian soldier’s survival through World War I, reconciliation with his family, and inescapable return to war remains as gripping and bittersweet now as it did the first time I heard it. Across adrenaline-fueled riffing, oppressive marches, and somber dirges, 1914 never relents on musical or lyrical weight. Though Viribus Unitis was released late in the year, it quickly became the standard I used to appraise albums while going through listing season. 1914 paints war-torn life with savage grace, supplying devastating melody and grueling crawls that elevate the album to such heights that I’m genuinely moved each time I get to the end. Viribus Unitis is bleak, raw, and human, but for all that, I’m never deterred from listening. Ultimately, 1914 clutches the threads of hope and weaves an aural tapestry that brings tragedy and triumph to life, cementing Viribus Unitis as my undisputed top album of 2025.

Honorable Mentions:

• Walg // V
• Moron Police // Pachinko
• Defigurement // Endbryo
• Ültra Raptör // Fossilized
• Igorrr // Amen

Songs o’ the Year:

• Aephanemer – “Le Cimetière Marin”

• 1914 – “1918 Pt. III: ADE (A Duty to Escape)”

Andy-War-Hall

#ish: Dragon Skull // Chaos Fire Vengeance
#10: Changeling // Changeling
#9: Steel Arctus // Dreamruler
#8: Abigail Williams //A Void Within Existence
#7: Petrified Giant // Endless Ark
#6: Imperial Triumphant // Goldstar
#5: Structure // Heritage
#4: Lipoma // No Cure for the Sick
#3: Crippling Alcoholism // Camgirl
#2: Hexrot // Formless Ruin of Oblivion
#1: 1914 // Viribus Unitis – Immersion defines great music and art for me. It is almost unfortunate how good 1914 are in this facet of their music. Their ability to transport the listener to the battlefield in all its violence, both carnal and psychological, is stupefying. The utter dehumanizing hatred with “1914 (The Siege of Przemyśl),” the ravenous bloodlust of “1917 (The Isonzo Front),” the hellish wails haunting “1918 Pt. 1 (WIA – Wounded in Action):” all portrayed vividly through 1914’s brilliantly caustic and composed musicianship and deeply personal lyricism. When Dmytro Ternushchak bellows “For three days / The Russians attacked / And accomplished nothing but / 40,000 dead pigs” [“1914 (The Siege of Przemyśl)”], it’s all you need to get into his character’s violent headspace. When 1914 mournfully sing in Ukrainian “Це моя земля”3 [1915 (Easter Battle for the Zwinin Ridge)], you grasp how someone could put their life on the line for kin and country. When our soldier sings “My little girl reached out to me / But duty calls” [1919 (The Home Where I Died)]… well, shit, your heart just has to break, right? 1914 don’t play “history metal.” Viribus Unitis is as present and relevant as you can get.

Honorable Mentions:

• Fell Omen // Caelid Dog Summer
• Ophelion // The Jaunt
• Coroner // Dissonance Theory
• Starscourge // Conqueror of the Stars – Betwixt Sundered Seraphim, the Lands Between Bleed

Song o’ the Year:

• Fell Omen – “The Fire is Still Warm”



Lavender Larcenist

#ish Spiritbox // Tsunami Sea
#10. Sold Soul // Just Like That, I Disappear Entirely
#9. Calva Louise // Edge of the Abyss
#8. Dying Wish // Flesh Stays Together
#7. Grima // Nightside
#6. Aversed // Erasure of Color
#5. Deafheaven // Lonely People With Power
#4. Ghost Bath // Rose Thorn Necklace
#3. Changeling // Changeling
#2. Dormant Ordeal // Tooth and Nail
#1. Crippling Alcoholism // Camgirl – Sometimes you listen to music, and you feel like it gets you. Camgirl was exactly that type of album, and it probably doesn’t say anything good about me. Ever since Crippling Alcoholism’s latest graced my ears and I shared it with my partner, we have been singing “I fucking hate the way I look, yeah I look like a fat fucking scumbag” way too often and mumbling “Mr. Ran away, ran away from family” every chance we get. The album is dripping with the atmosphere of neon-lit back rooms, seedy interactions, and terrible decision-making. It feels like a lens into the lives of those society has left behind, and I can’t help but feel a connection. The self-destructive nihilism, drugged-out sex, and abrupt violence that is all too common in those on the margins of life is something I think more and more we can all relate to, and Camgirl is the art that mirrors society back to us. As a result, it is an album that is just as ugly as it is terrifying and beautiful.

Honorable Mentions:

• Shadow of Intent // Imperium Delirium
• Pupil Slicer // Fleshwork
• 1914 // Viribus Unitis

Song o’ the Year:

• Crippling Alcoholism – “bedrot”

Creeping Ivy

#ish. Nite // Cult of the Serpent Sun
#10. Blackbraid // Blackbraid III
#9. Flummox // Southern Progress
#8. 1914 // Viribus Unitis
#7. Cave Sermon // Fragile Wings
#6. Saor // Amidst the Ruins
#5. Imperial Triumphant // Goldstar
#4. Phantom Spell // Heather & Hearth
#3. Coroner // Dissonance Theory
#2. Messa // The Spin
#1. Havukruunu // Tavastland – On their Bandcamp page, Havukruunu explain the concept of their fourth LP: ‘Tavastland tells how in 1237 the Tavastians rose in rebellion against the church of Christ and drove the popes naked into the frost to die.’ Sounds like the metal album of 2025 to me! But I didn’t crown Tavastland for its lyrics that I can’t understand. As Dr. A.N. Grier has been exhorting for a decade, Havukruunu stands as a model of Viking black metal consistency, having dropped only very good-to-great albums since 2015. Tavastland isn’t a radical improvement over 2020’s Uinuous syömein sota, but it’s an (arguably excellent) improvement nonetheless, making it Havukruunu’s finest work yet. Yes, these fiery Finns forge sounds reminiscent of Bathory and Immortal, but Tavastland seized my attention for its adventurous prog sensibilities. Some of this can be attributed to the return of Hümo, whose bass rattles like the four strings of Geddy Lee. But the prog is deep in the album craft, from the overture-style modulations of opener “Kuolematon laulunhenki” to the extended guitar wankery of closer “De miseriis fennorum.” Now if only I can learn Finnish, I’ll be able to appreciate the killer anti-popery narrative while headbanging to my Record o’ 2025.

Honorable Mentions:

• Am I in Trouble? // Spectrum
• Blut Aus Nord // Ethereal Horizons
• In Mourning // The Immortal
• Oromet // The Sinking Isle
• Wyatt E. // Zamāru Ultu Qereb Ziqquratu Part 1

Song o’ the Year:

• Phantom Spell – “The Autumn Citadel”



Baguette of Bodom

#ish. In the Woods… // Otra
#10. Species // Changelings
#9. Dragon Skull // Chaos Fire Vengeance
#8. A-Z // A2Z²
#7. Apocalypse Orchestra // A Plague upon Thee
#6. Amorphis // Borderland
#5. Dolmen Gate // Echoes of Ancient Tales
#4. Dormant Ordeal // Tooth and Nail
#3. Amalekim // Shir Hashirim
#2. Suotana // Ounas II
#1. Buried Realm // The Dormant Darkness – Melodic tech death? Symphonic power metal? Who knows! Much like my 2025 in general, The Dormant Darkness has a bit of everything in one gigantic clusterfuck. The great news is, neither I nor the album crumbled under all that weight. In a year full of odd twists and turns, my list became more varied and unusual than ever. Buried Realm took this variety and gave me everything I like about metal in one dense package: blazing speeds, soaring guitars, majestic vocals, and relentless fury. It’s also inexplicably well-produced for how many layers there are to deal with. While 2025 was not a particularly star-studded release year—especially compared to most of the 2020s so far—it threw plenty of fun curveballs at me, and The Dormant Darkness exemplifies this with its Xothian fusion of metal subgenres in one big Ophidian I blender ov shred. I would also like to request several Christian Älvestam features on every album, please.

Honorable Mentions:

• Victim of Fire // The Old Lie
• Dawn of Solace // Affliction Vortex
• Dynazty // Game of Faces
• Coroner // Dissonance Theory
• Hooded Menace // Lachrymose Monuments of Obscuration

Song o’ the Year:

• Dragon Skull – “Blood and Souls”

Chaos Fire Vengeance by Dragon Skull

Cave Sermon – Fragile Wings Review

By Thus Spoke

For the second year in a row, I was blindsided by a silent Cave Sermon drop. At least it didn’t take me 11 months to catch up this time.1 Album number three, Fragile Wings, sees Charlie Parks returning as a solo act, but now handling vocals on top of everything else. This latter is a welcome development, given how well the previous record proved vocals complement and enhance the unique musical style. After Divine Laughter blew my socks off and nonchalantly pushed its way to the top half of my 2024 year-end list, a follow-up so soon filled me with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. Surely he couldn’t do it again? But, of course, he has.

Fragile Wings is instantly recognisable as Cave Sermon, but rather than simply being Divine Laughter part two—not that I would have complained about that—it is tonally quite different. Different, but with the same dreamlike longing at its core. Whereas its predecessor felt nihilistic and angry, Fragile Wings is a little more vulnerable, a little sadder, and more wistful. This shines through the now more prominent melodies, which feel playful and exuberant, in the beguiling way that characterises Cave Sermon’s sound. Fluid layers of liquid strums, riffs that vibrate alternately with urgency and mirth (“Hopeless Magic,” “”Moloch”), and tremolos that burr and hum as much as they warble like songbirds up and down scales (“Three-Headed Moth,” “Ancient to Someone”). The untamed tempos that lead tracks through a series of stomps, sways, charges, and thoughtful pauses are more mischievous than before, in a way that makes explicit the spirited defiance that bubbled within Divine Laughter. Parks’ vocals work just as well as Miguel Méndez’s did, if not better, against this vibrant backdrop, and there’s an additional weight given to the already strange and touching lyrics because their author is now delivering them himself.

Fragile Wings is stirring and vivacious, and somehow outdoes Divine Laughter in its sparkling dynamism and bright unusualness. After arresting with odd, colourful arrangements, Cave Sermon looks wryly over at the listener and says, “watch this,” as some effervescent lead comes frolicking in (“Moloch,” “Three-Headed Moth”), or an already satisfying groove switches to a new dance with a flick and a crash (“Hopeless Magic,” “Ancient for Someone”); you can’t help but smile back. The very way guitars are distorted, and the atmosphere surrounding their notes and the here-skittish, there-assertive percussion, is…different. And this is all charming because it’s not self-indulgent; not weird and challenging and complicated, but refreshing, like a splash of cool water to the face on a hot day. All the more so given how Cave Sermon makes it look easy, creating a soundscape that seems simpler than it is, managing to presage and reprise melodies and rhythms in a way I can only describe as “very cool.” Interwoven strands of ethereal ambience—warm strums and purring high notes (“Arrows and Clay,” “Sunless Morning”)—violent sludgy riffs and a tripping, resonant drumbeat (“Moloch,” “Ancient for Someone”); symphonies of burbling tremolo and synths (“Hopeless Magic,” “Ancient for Someone”); and the delicate assuredness of wavering melodies, each are so carefully placed, but weightless, as though carried by some spirited wind that breezes through each track.

In this organic, careless novelty and expression, Fragile Wings continues what Divine Laughter established, but does it better. Not only is it more poignant, it flows with a more tangible through-line, and even cleverer rhythmic interplay. There is no track-length ambient noise here; this tendency is relegated to the faded conversation that closes “Arrows and Clay,” and the birdsong scattered over the serene first act of “Sunless Morning.” The difference is that these are not divorced from the music, but part of it, contributing to its sense of nostalgia, and sombre reflectiveness. A harsher version of me would still argue that the first half of “Sunless Morning” is a bit too slow of a build, but another would gesture fanatically at the song’s second act, with its quaking bass refrain and heartfelt tremolo descent melody that might actually be the best on the album, before it enters another wild dance I won’t spoil. Cave Sermon has refined their ability to transition between energies and styles whilst keeping the tone consistent. So seamless is the integration that it no longer feels like multiple genres are in play, but like a new one entirely.

Fragile Wings confirms what I had secretly hoped, that Divine Laughter was not just lightning in a bottle. If anything, it only raises the bar. Cave Sermon create music that is some magical combination of emotionally stirring, endlessly engrossing, and completely unique. There is simply no other artist in metal making music like them.2 You have to hear this.

Rating: Excellent3
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Self-Release
Website: Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: April 16th, 2025

#2025 #45 #Apr25 #AustralianMetal #BlackMetal #CaveSermon #DeathMetal #ExperimentalMetal #FragileWings #PostMetal #Review #Reviews #SelfReleased #Sludge

Thus Spoke and Maddog’s Top Ten(ish) of 2024

By Steel Druhm

Thus Spoke

My second AMG End-of-Year piece?! Didn’t I just get here? This is my typical reaction to life’s happenings. I’m blindsided by everything. You’ll probably notice that many of the below list entries ‘snuck up on me’ in how much I liked them, compared to everything else. The fact that we’re now halfway through the 2020s makes me feel a bit nauseous. I keep telling people I ‘just moved’ into the home I bought this year, but I’ve been in it since April. And that huge milestone—for which I feel immensely grateful and privileged to have achieved this side of 30—would have solely dominated my year were it not for two other facts: 1) I was finally diagnosed with and very recently started medication for ADHD; 2) 2024 has got to have been the strongest year of the decade so far for metal. So, time to talk about the music rather than myself.

My overoptimistic prediction that Ulcerate would release new music came true,1 and there was, in general, a particular influx of excellent material from the darker, more dissonant, and extreme sides of death and black metal. This was also the year I finally reconnected with my love of doom after a long period of lukewarm engagement. But I wouldn’t have known about half of it were it not for this gig, and the amazing people I share it with. Whether it was Dear Hollow, Kenstrosity, or Mystikus Hugebeard pinging across something they thought I might like, or a particularly potent review penned by a colleague, a commenter chipping in with some gem, or the group buzz around an album I might otherwise never have considered, there’s no better place to find and discuss metal. And speaking of community, if I ever needed a confirmation that this right here is the loveliest place on the internet, the rallying response to Ken‘s plight earlier this year from staff and readers was it.2 I couldn’t ask for better company.

I said as much last year, but I’ll probably say it every year: having this opportunity is wild and I feel so blessed. To be able to send my thoughts about music into the world where people read and consider them, that’s mad. Bumping into an AMG fan in the wild was also an affirming and heartwarming experience reminding me that there are actually real people out there who know who we are; and let me say, however enthusiastic and grateful you might be for us, the feeling is mutual. So to everyone reading this, to all the folks at AMG who make it possible for me to continually wax lyrical about stuff I love (and stuff I don’t love so much) and put up with all my overrating, to all of you: thank you. Shout out also to my list buddy Maddog, whose EOY write-up is bound to be more br00tal and much less flowery than mine, and whose in-person company I continue to have the pleasure of enjoying whenever he deigns to visit our little island up here. Oh, and thank you to the original creator and to Kenstrosity for my new avatar! I asked and you delivered. And if you actually read this far down, thank you for indulging me. But now, finally, it’s list time.

#ish. Pillar of Light // Caldera – I unintentionally ended my reviewing year on a high with Pillar of Light. Or perhaps a low, if we consider mood. When a record evokes a genuine emotional response in me,3 as Caldera does, it deserves more than an Honorable Mention. So here it is. It’s one of those albums you experience that forever afterward remains tied to your particular life situation when you were first immersed, and for that reason, its longevity is increased and its impact amplified. Given how “Leaving” and “Infernal Gaze” leave me in pieces, it’s probably a good thing the misery comes down from 11 at other times. But on the next album, who knows? I’ll be ready at least.

#10. Replicant // Infinite Mortality – Much like Kenstrosity, author of the review, I have not historically been Replicant’s hugest fan. For some reason their music never stuck with me; I just didn’t get it. Infinite Mortality has been the enlightenment I needed. It’s undeniably fantastic. Brilliantly technical and ruthlessly efficient in execution, it manages to also be ridiculously groovy in a way that you wouldn’t expect from this flavor of extreme death metal. Suited, evidently, to desk sessions and gym sessions alike, given the range of play it got from me since its release, its balance of skronk and style proved why I should, long ago, have been paying attention to Replicant. Ken himself struggled to find a negative and so do I. Even interlude “SCN9A” is great, especially as it leads into monster “Pain Enduring.” Only the superlative strength of other contenders causes this to fall so low on the list.

#9. ColdCell // Age of Unreason – In a rare case of me underrating something, my review of Age of Unreason did not quite do justice to its strength. Not only have I revisited it often, but I have of late been struck ever deeper by its profundity. The honest, vulnerable lamentations on inequality (“Solidarity or Solitude”), hatred (“Discord”), and human selfishness (“Dead to the World”) go far beyond a jaded misanthropy and strike a real chord. In wrapping this up in an insidiously simple package of compelling, devastating black metal with a distinctive voice, ColdCell have made, I now recognize, a true masterpiece. Brutal in its own way, and beautiful in many more, this is a record I hardly realized had made such a strong impact on me until I saw just how many times I’d spun it. This year may have seen black metal that goes harder, or with more powerful atmospheres, but none that are as memorable as Age of Unreason.

#8. Spectral Voice // Sparagmos – What a behemoth. It’s hard to believe that—just for a little while—Sparagmos slipped my mind many months after its February release. Relistening brought it all back into horrifying clarity. This record throws a veil over the sun, stares at you with unseeing, ecstatic eyes of Dionysian worship, and forces you into terrified awe. I’m still blown away by how crushingly heavy and immersive it is; how it still manages to blindside me with sudden turns from ominous crawling into chaotic, chthonic tremolos and clustered, hideous vocals. A masterclass in patient, predatory ambush. Nothing else this year was like it, which is partially why I’ve had to return so often to its dark embrace. Every nightmarish track was at some point in the runnings for the Song of the Year playlist. In the end, only one could make it, and it is, as I said in my review, “as inexorable as death.”

#7. Hamferð // Men Guðs hond er sterk – I’m surprised as well. Before Men Guðs hond er sterk, I had never laid ears on Hamferð and I was quite stunned to find how instantly I loved them. It’s not often an album by a band you’d previously never spent time with claims a spot on your year-end list after one listen, but this was one of those rare occasions. Something about the sorrowful, yet also soaring, melodies delivered through the interplays of resonant chords and gentle plucks, and between caustic growls and clear, ardent cleans just transports me. I feel the solemnity, the fear, and the grief in alternately forceful and graceful heaviness thanks to these intricately woven compositions and ardent performances that make the fact the lyrics are all in Faroese completely irrelevant. And Hamferð cover breadth with such ease, the slowly rolling wave of doom rising with tremolos into new intensity; and yet still controlled, still patient. The closer and it’s sample used to bother me, but I’m long past that now. In short, as the Angry Metal Guy himself said, “the record’s flow is impeccable,” and “the writing is subtle but addictive”. He’s not kidding about that last part, I really can’t stop listening to it.

#6. Föhn // Condescending – I was not prepared for what Condescending would do to me. Like any funeral doom worth its salt, it’s massive, but its presence is not smothering, it does not suffocate. Instead, it dampens the sound of anything else, so that the lugubrious chords, vocals, and fraught, lamenting refrains reverberate inside your mind, alone. This presence is redoubled by the heart-rending devastation of the compositions it centers—lyrically and musically. Bleakly beautiful, crushing doom in all its low, slow, cavernous hell leads you into an almost blissful moroseness, just in time for the veil to tear and your spirit to crumble as haunting melodies spill in from impossibly delicate sources of saxophone, synth, or ringing strings. Condescending will not leave my mind, and as broken and misty-eyed as these songs make me—”A Day After” and “Persona” especially—I’ll keep returning to experience it again and again. Maybe I can only speak for myself; maybe you’re sensing a theme wherein I like albums that make me feel sad. Whatever the case, Föhn took my breath away, and I don’t want it back.

#5. Cave Sermon // Divine Laughter – It’s pretty irresponsible of me to put this in the list at all, let alone in this position, considering how late in the day I discovered it. But I’m not really known for being ‘responsible’ around these parts, so, what the hell. What some might pigeonhole as just wonky death metal, or blackened post-hardcore—or even post-metal, as Metal Archives confusingly stamp it—is really much more complex, deep, and unique. Gripping and strange, in a way that struck me on my very first listen, Divine Laughter is responsible for me going from never having heard of Cave Sermon to being an ardent fan in one afternoon. Every listen gives me my new favorite part and uncovers more and more of its treasures. Savage and beautiful and with unnervingly easy flow, large parts of it are total perfection (“Liquid Gol, “The Paint of An Invader”). I cannot get enough. It’s so good, actually, that it’s made me feel a bit anxious about how much I’ve still missed this year, though I am very glad that this made it to my ears, even at the 11th hour. Divine Laughter is simply one of the greatest things I’ve heard in 2024, and it’s a crime that more people aren’t talking about it.

#4. Devenial Verdict // Blessing of Despair – I was waiting for Blessing of Despair since January, and as it always is with things we have high expectations for, part of me was preparing for disappointment. That preparation proved unnecessary once I finally got my hands on this in the Autumn. Devenial Verdict delivered. This time, they amped up all their unique little idiosyncrasies that made me fall in love with Ash Blind, and added a criminally heavy helping of groove. This thing is atmospheric and punchy, providing soundscapes that are just as haunting and mysterious(TM) as they are stomping and cutthroat. Either way, these riffs will make you shiver. “Garden of Eyes”! “Solus”! Ahhhh! Even “Counting Silence” and “A Curse Made Flesh,” which I initially dismissed as a little understated, have this delicious melancholic presence I just want to be immersed in 24/7. Devenial Verdict’s slick mixture of mournful melody and menacing, barked growls; neck-snapping flicks of cymbal, and those resonant, aggressive chord progressions make for—almost—my favorite take on death metal that exists. The sole reason Blessing of Despair wasn’t my most-played album of 2024 is that I only started in September.4

#3. Selbst // Despondency Chord Progressions – Back in 2017 or so, I was struck by what at the time I considered the most gorgeous opening guitar on any song ever. It was “…Of Solitary Ramblings,” the first track on Selbst’s self-titled debut.5 From that day forward I was enamoured. The undercurrents of lamenting melodrama and a black metal interwoven with a distinctive style of flowing, weeping strums continue to make Selbst very special. But if I had thought that their depths of emotional poignancy and stirring, multi-layered compositions had been reached, Despondency Chord Progressions showed they had not. Cleans that some wrote off as unsavory, rather bring—in my opinion—a new vulnerability, and their rawness compounds the pathos of already intensely cathartic compositions. The album’s title is, as I noted, an apt descriptor for the musical themes, but really undersells the cry of grief and despair that erupts from the music with every shuddering, tremolo-shaken, surge and every plaintive, somber quietude. I stand by what I said back in April, that “[t]his is black metal at its most stirring, entrancingly beautiful, and existentially affecting.” The sheer magnitude of its impassioned peaks (“Third World Wretchedness,” “Between Seclusion and Obsession”) and the sting of its humanity (“When true Loneliness is Experienced,” “Chant of Self Confrontation”) are like nothing else in the genre.

#2. Amiensus // Reclamation [Parts 1 & 2] – Take it up in the comments if you think this is cheating; Reclamation is one work in my eyes. And what a masterpiece. Each part a gorgeous, immersive side of one breathtaking journey that is best experienced together. I remain stunned by Amiensus’ mastery of musical storytelling through a flowing, intricate soundscape—at turns triumphant (“Vermillion Fog of War,” “Sólfarið”), sorrowful (“Reverie,” “Leprosarium”), and always stirring. Everything about Reclamation is graceful, which is another part of its magic because it’s not as though Amiensus left the black metal behind. Rather they seem to have found the deepest essence of the genre’s unique propensity for raw emotional expression, and moulded its elements into what is hands-down the most beautiful thing I’ve heard at least this year. It is, as I noted in my write-up of Part 1, a distillation of pure joy, and uplifting no matter how wistful (“Sun and Moon”), or suffused with bittersweet longing (“A Consciousness Throughout Time,” “Acquiescence”). And with so much of it—albeit, a time that flashes by with thrilling speed—it’s impossible not to get lost in. “Sun and Moon” was so close to being my favorite song of 2024, and in another year, it would have been. For that matter, in another year Reclamation itself would have claimed the top spot on this list.

#1. Ulcerate // Cutting the Throat of God – What else could it have been? I worry that by this point I may have used up all of the words that are possible to describe this pinnacle of excellence. In reality, though, I’m not sure I even have the words to express it in the first place, not for lack of trying. Ulcerate have long been a behemoth in their realm within the larger world of death metal, but while distinctive, they have never settled, continually carving up the template of dissonance with varyingly-sized blades of atmosphere and melody, moving between their most barbed and chaotic (Everything is Fire) to their most somber and moody (The Destroyers of All) in just one album. Later Shrines of Paralysis—my former favorite—saw a turn back towards the urgency and aggression, but with this new harmonic undercurrent in place. With hindsight, I can see now that the deeply atmospheric, disquieting Stare into Death and Be Still marked a turning point, paving the ground for what could be their magnum opus. Distilling the tension and the turmoil, into tidal forces of incredible rhythm, and dark, brilliant melody, with Cutting the Throat of God, Ulcerate reach transcendence. Dire (“The Dawn is Hollow”), deadly (“Transfiguration in and Out of Worlds”), devastating (“To See Death Just Once,” “Cutting the Throat of God”). Its intricacies only continue to reveal themselves to me; helped, no doubt, by a phenomenal live performance that bewitched me anew this October. I had to upgrade this album’s score to Iconic, because it is. This is atmospheric death metal perfected, and if genre-mates weren’t already looking in Ulcerate’s direction, there’s hardly any choice now. Cutting the Throat of God represents, in the greatest form, “the savagery, authenticity, and more recently, beauty that makes this icon of the dissonant death metal world who they are.”

Honorable Mentions:

Gaerea // Coma – Despite having calmed down considerably from my previous Gaerea overhype, there’s no denying that they’ve really got something. With a new vocalist, they retain their distinctively melodramatic and intense style, while incorporating a little more vulnerability via some genuinely really lovely cleans. A great record that just wasn’t great enough for the ridiculously high standard set by this year’s fare.

Eye Eater // Alienate – I am immensely grateful for Dolphin Whisperer for bringing this to my attention. Much of this album feels like it was written specifically for me, because it uses pretty much all of my favorite things in metal. It’s atmospheric and dissonant, like Ulcerate and others in that vein; it’s kind of post-death-y, and replete with minor melodies, and a particular kind of urgency my brain associates with specific kinds of ‘-core’. I just didn’t get quite enough time with it.

Songs of the Year

“To See Death Just Once” – Ulcerate

“Sun and Moon” – Amiensus

“Solus” – Devenial Verdict

“Terminal” – Vorga

“Third World Wretchedness” – Selbst

“The Paint of an Invader” – Cave Sermon

“A Day After” – Föhn

“Ábær” – Hamferð

“Inversion” – Endonomos

“Death’s Knell Rings in Eternity” – Spectral Voice

“Leaving” – Pillar of Light

Maddog

It’s been a weird year, and this is a weird list. Last December, I lamented the emotional hollowness of 2023’s metal output. If anything, 2024 fell even flatter. My most anticipated heavyweights were competent but inconsistent (Alcest, Julie Christmas), and few albums moved me. Unfazed, death metal picked up the slack and made this year a pleasure. Led by a flurry of excellent releases from genre titans, 2024 helped rekindle my love for cantankerous death metal.

Even so, the brutality of 2024’s output shocked me. Despite my worship of Suffocation and Dying Fetus, most brutal death metal releases of the last decade haven’t gripped me. But 2024 pulled me onto the brutal train with creativity and pizzazz. Both the techy and the knuckle-dragging corners of that subgenre thrived, including several artists that didn’t make my list (like Gigan, Iniquitous Savagery, and Nile). After tending toward more emotive music and other poseur nonsense in recent years, I took a long jump back in 2024.

As if that wasn’t enough, this was a banner year for dissonance. That’s a sentence I never expected to type; even dissonant death metal’s classics tend to be hit-or-miss with me. In 2024, the skronk finally broke through, aided by many avant-garde bands drifting toward a more accessible sound. This year’s screechy screeds were cogent enough to grab my arm and unhinged enough to rip it out of its socket. It’s been a jarring but eye-opening year.

This comment from the Brodequin review doubles as a summary of my 2024 music picks:

I wonder if I, we, they or all of us have a screw loose.

Heading into 2024, I craved immersive soundscapes and misty eyes. Instead, I was met with discordant gurgling. I didn’t expect it, but I don’t regret it.

#ish. Hypoxia // Defiance – Defiance never gets old. This old-school death metal behemoth has been around for ten months and hails from a subgenre that’s infamous for monotony. And yet, like Monstrosity’s best work, it blossoms on every spin. Defiance sports 2024’s fiercest harsh vocal performance, and riffwork so potent that it could revive the Selbst baby. I don’t have anything fancy to add, so I won’t try. Defiance is a rare death metal record that’s simple, thrilling, and well-written.

#10. Dawn Treader // Bloom & Decay – The thought sometimes crosses my mind: Why does atmospheric black metal even exist? The musical possibilities abound; who would pay $8 for tremolo scales recorded in a rest stop bathroom? Records like Bloom & Decay jolt me out of my pretension. Dawn Treader’s underground gem is both a product and a peddler of overpowering emotion. Ross Connell unleashes a tirade against violence and oppression using grief-stricken guitar melodies. On the flip side, Bloom & Decay’s heavy use of major keys—my second biggest fear—blurs the line between despair and tentative hope. Most impressive is the album’s flow, which Itchymenace described better than I ever could: “The majority of Bloom & Decay is instrumental, but you hardly notice because the music has such a storytelling quality.” Bloom & Decay’s 53-minute chokehold on my heart is ineffable but unyielding.

#9. Kanonenfieber // Die Urkatastrophe – Germany’s nameless Noise has built up a remarkable CV – 7 years, 3 bands, 8 albums. While I’ve often enjoyed his music, I never fell under his spell. Die Urkatastrophe was the last straw. A pacifist tirade told through first-person WWI vignettes, Die Urkatastrophe depicts nationalist violence and its aftermath. Armed with a sharp-edged blackened death foundation and surging chorus melodies, Kanonenfieber provides rewarding fodder even for unfeeling riff addicts. However, its excellence lies in its raw emotion. Both Noise’s lyrics and his songwriting embrace a “show, don’t tell” approach that brings the album to life. As the narrator’s cavalry offensive meets with a hilltop ambush in “Gott mit der Kavallerie,” Kanonenfieber’s upbeat riffs transform into a sudden dirge followed by frantic black metal. The epic “Waffenbrüder” evokes the wide-eyed optimism of childhood friends, the pride of enlisting, the tragedy of losing a companion, and the regrets of a life wasted. Die Urkatastrophe is both a transformative album and exemplary storytelling.

#8. Defeated Sanity // Chronicles of Lunacy – Chronicles of Lunacy is essential listening for any fans of extreme metal. Its greatest triumph is its fine mix of Defeated Sanity’s signature ingredients. Chronicles excels as pure brutal death metal through punishing caveman riffs and a tasteful dose of slam. Vaughn Stoffey’s guitars elevate this to an art form using wily fretboard acrobatics and seamless jazzy breaks. Led by kit-meister Lille Gruber, Defeated Sanity’s off-kilter rhythms and heavy syncopation miraculously aid the album’s staying power rather than hindering it. Put simply, Chronicles of Lunacy is 2024’s most vivid reminder of why I love death metal. I love its unforgiving brutality; I love its dazzling technicality; I love its groove; I love its genre-bending creative expression; I love its rhythmic feats of strength; I love its intellect; I love its idiocy. In other words, I love Defeated Sanity.

#7. Ulcerate // Cutting the Throat of God – It’s a match made in heaven: Cutting the Throat of God is Ulcerate for dummies, and I’m a dummy. Ulcerate continues to march toward more accessible ground, leaving behind the merciless dissonance of Everything is Fire. Powerful melodic themes peek through the chaos and take time to shine, offering both souvenirs and footholds. Despite Cutting’s lowbrow appeal, Ulcerate’s inimitable signature remains. Unease pervades the record, and Ulcerate’s cohesive songwriting transforms it from a concept to an emotion. In Thus Spoke’s words, Jamie Saint Merat’s drums are “more body than skeleton,” using their distinctive start-stop style to guide the mood. The album’s climaxes alone justify a purchase, as hypnotic melodies and frenzied dissonance coalesce into a tsunami. In short, Cutting the Throat of God captured both my brain and my heart.

#6. Hippotraktor // Stasis – I first heard about Belgium’s Hippotraktor from an insistent coworker, long before I discovered GardensTale’s well-worded underrating. Psychonaut meets Karnivool meets The Ocean meets Meshuggah in this pounding, beautiful prog/post adventure. Stasis’ hard-won achievement is that it navigates through disparate ideas with fluidity and flair. Psychonaut-drenched sludge forms a jagged backbone that sways between meditative and explosive. Meanwhile, Hippotraktor’s mastery of melody catapults them into genre royalty. “Stasis” uses this superpower for peaceful guitar jams, “Echoes” uses it for soaring As I Lay Dying vocal lines, and “The Reckoning” uses it for haunting continuity across its eight minutes. The djenty interdjections are well-written and screwed in tight, packing a punch even for listeners with severe djent allerdjies. Stasis is a bold statement from a new band, and it’s jostled up my list posthaste.

#5. Hell:on // Shaman – Hell:on’s folk-infused take on death metal stands apart. Shaman’s diverse influences complement each other and flourish in isolation. Phrygian themes, throat singing, and driving sitars steer the album. But despite Shaman’s folk roots, it’s an excellent slab of death metal. Hell:on’s riffs recall the threatening leviathans of Nile’s Annihilation of the Wicked, while the narrative song structures feel like a roided-out Aeternam. Even among such storied company, Shaman’s melodies stand out. Over the record’s runtime, Hell:on’s guitars shred, soar, flail, and wallop, evolving smoothly and dragging the listener along. As icing on the cake, Holdeneye’s review of Shaman features the most sobering and most badass introductory story of 2024. Hell:on demanded my attention and earned it.

#4. Pyrrhon // Exhaust – I started warming up to Exhaust on my first listen, but it took a while to diagnose why. Pyrrhon’s earlier releases didn’t click with me, but Exhaust is a trailblazer and a paradox. Pyrrhon rewrites the textbook on riffs, displaying a mastery of groove even in their wildest moments. And the noisier cuts, which remind me most of Pink Floyd’s The Piper at the Gates of Dawn and The Velvet Underground, are evocative narratives rather than lifeless technical exercises. The longer pieces intersperse hypnotic buildups with furious cacophony (“Out of Gas”), while the shorter tracks are simultaneously caustic and infectious. With a thick leading bass performance and a master that highlights every detail of the drums, Exhaust grows on me with every spin. Pyrrhon’s off-the-deep-end brand of experimental death metal isn’t my usual fare, but I can’t avert my ears this time. Both mellifluous and disgusting, both rifftastic and immersive, Exhaust is singular.

#3. Selbst // Despondency Chord Progressions – My first toe dip into Selbst made a lasting impression. Shortly after Despondency Chord Progressions came out, I spun it at the office. In the final minute of the opener “La Encarnación de Todos los Miedos,” I felt the involuntary tears start to flow, and I had to nuke the music and run to the bathroom to avoid worrying my desk neighbor. This embarrassing first encounter perfectly encapsulates the album. While it’s “merely” black metal, its gorgeous melodies and shrilling tremolos showcase the genre at its finest. Alternating between meditative dirges and howling chords, Selbst conveys both muffled sobs and hysterical bawling. Selbst’s fluid compositions captivated me at once and dug their claws even deeper over the ensuing months. The most heart-rending record of 2024, Despondency Chord Progressions showcases the paralyzing power of music.

#2. Noxis // Violence Inherent in the System – Noxis’ debut is a remarkable blend of old and new. The album’s stomping riffs and popping snare drum root it in 1990s brutal death metal. Conversely, its exuberantly grimy bass tone, its proggy rhythms, and its surprise woodwind extravaganza feel unabashedly modern. Much like last year’s Ohio death metal highlight, Violence Inherent in the System succeeds by ripping throughout, whether with a vile Dying Fetus riff or with an adventurous bass melody. Although this is the longest record in my top five, its 46 minutes fly by. Boasting momentum that would make Newton blush, Noxis keeps the energy high from the barnburner “Skullcrushing Defilement” to the proggy old-school “Emanations of the Sick.” After six months of scrutinizing and adoring Violence, I still can’t fathom that this is a debut album.

#1. Wormed // Omegon – I’ve already said my piece on this, and nothing has changed. Omegon feels as thrilling, as alien, as robotic, and as human as it did in July. In a year where brutality and dissonance thrived, Wormed maxed out both dimensions. Omegon is at once a painstakingly crafted work of art, an all-consuming atmosphere, and 2024’s punchiest death metal record.

Honorable Mentions:

• Oxygen Destroyer // Guardian of the Universe – Redefining Darkness strikes again. Oxygen Destroyer’s latest death-thrash opus is a concise half hour of exhilarating riffs. The album sounds one track, but I don’t care; it gains steam as it progresses, and it lodges deeper on every listen. There’s no excuse for missing this.
• Brodequin // Harbinger of Woe – Despite its morose title, Harbinger of Woe is straightforward and riotous. Brodequin has honed a sleek archetype of brutal death metal, far from the likes of Wormed. It doesn’t aim to innovate; it just aims for high impact. It succeeds.
• Kryptos // Decimator – India’s heavy metal kings dealt me an irreplaceable shot of adrenaline. Decimator is Kryptos’ most melodically inspired work to date, an absolute scorcher, and the most viscerally satisfying production job of 2024.
• Necrowretch // Swords of Dajjal – Somehow, despite competition from In Aphelion and Necrophobic themselves, Necrowretch churned out the best Necrophobic album of 2024.

Songs o’ the Year:

#2024 #Amiensus #BlogPost #Brodequin #CaveSermon #ColdCell #DawnTreader #DefeatedSanity #DevenialVerdict #EyeEater #Föhn #Gaerea #Hamferð #HellOn #Hippotraktor #Hypoxia #Kanonenfeiber #Kryptos #Necrowretch #Noxis #OxygenDestroyer #PillarOfLight #Pyrrhon #Replicant #Selbst #SpectralVoice #ThusSpokeAndMaddogSTopTenIshOf2024 #Ulcerate #Wormed

Cave Sermon – Divine Laughter [Things You Might Have Missed 2024]

By Thus Spoke

When I finally heard Divine Laughter, it was closer to January 2025 than it was January this year, when Cave Sermon released it. This temporal technicality turned out to be trivial because its brilliance was immediately obvious. Divine Laughter traverses death, black, sludge, post, ambient, and more, exploring further, and committing harder to mania—as I later discovered—than debut Memory Spear, which I also devoured eagerly. There is primarily just one person behind Cave Sermon, Aussie musician Charlie Park, and until now, the project was instrumental. Miguel Méndez’ vocals—with an impressively versatile, unhinged, and savage performance—are a perfect accompaniment to what appears to be Cave Sermon’s signature abstract and interpretive compositional style, channeling a kind of musical stream of consciousness that must be experienced to be understood.

To say that Divine Laughter is affecting would be criminal understatement. The lyrics alone are touching in a sense totally devoid of sentimentality, reflecting a singularly modern capitalist loneliness, a hatred of human apathy, and a guilt in one’s complicity. But it is the truly magnificent way in which Parks tells (and Méndez narrates) this story musically which makes it so arresting. It feels, at its core, refreshingly and exhilaratingly organic; vibrant and smart and true. Reprises feel like the returning edges of a persistent thought, percussion is as often a tech-death texture as a sludgy battering ram (“Crystallised”), or a vague tap in a noisy void (“Birds and Machines in Brunswick,” “Divine Laughter”); barks pitch upwards into howls in sudden gasps of the realization of some depressing, mundane, and fearful reality (“Liquid Gold”). Quieter moments of almost folky naïveté brush up against acerbic sludginess, alien synth, and the pseudo-chaotically mixed nuts and bolts of razor-sharp death and black metal with a facile deftness I’ve not heard outside of Vicotnik’s work.1

With so few words, how can I convey Divine Laughter’s mania? Comparisons feel stale. The through lines, like paint in abstract art,2 play with and subvert the expected course of a given genre’s template. Energetic black(ened death)3 (“Beyond Recognition,” “The Paint of An Invader”) comes as a thrillingly uneven rain of vitriol. Angular, dissonant extremity tumbles into echoing industrialism, or dizzy ambience (“Beyond Recognition,” “Divine Laughter”); sludgy death remains off-kilter and wild, while charging prog-death rhythms stumble suddenly, (“Crystallised”) and spiraling solos precipitate turns to gazey post (“Liquid Gold”), and every other influence on display. Though there’s a rawness and frightfulness about the relentless transformations of guitar, vocals, and tempo, the use of synths and atmosphere, they remain surprisingly alluring thanks to the powerful emotions bubbling up in subtle resurgences of themes. A lot of this has to do with Méndez’ incredible vocal performance, another lot are these tangled, gorgeous compositions. There are so many of these beautiful, cathartic rises of yearning, urgent melody, and many of them come with the unforeseen force of involuntary emotional reaction (“Beyond Recognition,” “Liquid Gold,” “The Paint of An Invader”), though multiple listens show their edges were presaged.

The only potential stumbling block for Divine Laughter I can concede, is the noisy, sample-spliced “Birds and Machines in Brunswick.” Transitioning into the rather terrifying opening to “Divine Laughter” with its almost Portal-esque bellows, its five minutes stick out perhaps a little too much from the rest. It’s clear that this is an experiment, taking place in a transition period for Cave Sermon. Given the excellence of everything else about Divine Laughter, it is very easy to forgive this trifle. I can truly say that no album—at least in recent years—has so instantaneously affected me, smashing down the doors of my musical perception, and settling deep in my soul. Cave Sermon may have received shockingly little recognition so far,4 but they will no doubt soon be a name on the lips of many in whatever strange sphere of metal we find ourselves in.

Tracks to Check Out: Every one except “Birds and Machines in Brunswick” is mandatory listening.

#2024 #AustralianMetal #BlackMetal #BlackenedDeath #CaveSermon #DeathMetal #DivineLaughter #ExperimentalMetal #PostMetal #SelfReleases #Sludge #ThingsYouMightHaveMissed #ThingsYouMightHaveMissed2024 #TYMHM