RELEASE YEAR: 2026BAND URL: https://centurymedia.bandcamp.com/album/the-ghost-of-a-future-dead-24-bit-hd-audio

The renowned and legendary Swedish constellation known as At the Gates surely need no introduction as they have been at the vanguard of melodic death metal for decades now and helped shape and pioneer the very genre. Admired and cherished by both fans and critics alike, their unique […]

RELEASE YEAR: 2025BAND URL: https://paradiselostofficial.bandcamp.com/

Paradise Lost’s Ascension2025 (Nuclear Blast) is a towering return that finds the Halifax, UK legends operating at a level few bands their age could dream of. Clocking in at 51:02 with 10 tracks as their 17th studio album, Ascension stands as their strongest and most satisfying full-length since the untouchable Icon1993, […]

🔥 This is Utrecht: #DeHelling
🗓️ 6/4/2026
📽️ Sethpicturesmusic

⚡ #Sarcator

💿 #CenturyMediaRecords
👕 tnorse
🤘 #OktoberPromotion
💡 By Anneloes Nagtegaal

ℹ️ Captured for De Helling with permission from #Sarcatorband

🔥 This is Utrecht: #DeHelling
🗓️ 6/4/2026
📽️ Sethpicturesmusic

⚡ #Sarcator

💿 #CenturyMediaRecords
👕 tnorse
🤘 #OktoberPromotion
💡 By Anneloes Nagtegaal

ℹ️ Captured for De Helling with permission from #Sarcatorband

Really happy to see some of my #Hellripper portraits I took in Leiden featured alongside the new album Coronach ( #CenturyMediaRecords ) and in publications like #Kerrang !

Photos of the LP (featuring my work) by Thorsten & Marc S.

🖤 #OktoberPromotion

Really happy to see some of my #Hellripper portraits I took in Leiden featured alongside the new album Coronach ( #CenturyMediaRecords ) and in publications like #Kerrang !

Photos of the LP (featuring my work) by Thorsten & Marc S.

🖤 #OktoberPromotion

Tired? Irritable? Prone to bouts of melancholy that leave you feeling listless and unfocused, particularly as the weather changes? It could be seasonal affective disorder, but these symptoms can also typify a diet deficient in vitamin R(iff). If it’s the latter, Hellripper’s Coronach practically hemorrhages the cure for what ails you, parading pulse-pounding riffs, blistering solos, and enthralling grooves with palliative nonchalance. Unleashing Hellripper’s fourth album in under a decade, architect and sole member James McBain maintains a tried-and-true release schedule and, more importantly, a steady evolution of sophisticated songwriting that’s as compelling as it is emboldening. I won’t mince words—Coronach is an undeniable corker and succeeds as Hellripper’s greatest triumph to date. So run down to your local or digital dealer and grab some Coronach posthaste!

Expanding on the achievements of Hellripper’s previous albums, Coronach harnesses the charm of earlier releases and injects them with a lethal dose of vitality. Back in 2017, debut Coagulating Darkness bled its influences on its sleeve, from riffs dripping with warp-speed Venom to the guitar lead from “Bastard of Hades” pulled straight from Metallica’s “Hit the Lights.” The Affair of the Poisons shaped Hellripper’s identity with flurries of licks that, while still laced with influences, exuded a welcome dimension of originality. Three years ago, Warlocks Grim & Withered Hags’ introduced knotted, longer-form compositions that pushed out the runtime while augmenting Hellripper’s arsenal of aural ammunition. With Coronach, Hellripper strikes a balance between the lengthier arrangements of Warlocks and the breakneck blackened bangers of yore, amplified by stellar performances throughout.

Coronach (24-bit HD audio) by Hellripper

Coronach overflows with electrifying instrumentation, and while McBain supplies most of Hellripper’s sonic ingredients, a few guests further enrich its proceedings. Searing leads and scorching solos set Coronach’s eight tracks aflame, boasting some of the hookiest guitar-playing I’ve heard this year. “Hunderprest” and “Blakk Satanik Fvkkstorm” crackle with flashy fretwork, buoyed by longtime six-string contributor Joseph Quinlan (Desert Heretic). Similarly, “Kinchyle (Goatkraft and Granite)” rumbles with snappy Motörheadstrong riffs before an acoustic guitar cuts in to transition the song into slinky grooves and heavy half-times. After some interplay, the pace ramps back up to close out on the intro riff. Hellripper has never lacked for earworms, yet Coronach unveils a mature understanding of dynamic songwriting that endows depth and complexity while never sounding forced or unnatural. Besides Quinlan, Jess Townsend contributes violin on “Baobhan Sith (Waltz of the Damned),” while singer Marianne returns to lend her vocals on a few tracks and Antonio Rodriguez reprises the bagpipes on closer “Coronach.” Vacuous’s Max Southall even bestows some percussive flair on “Mortercheyn.” Between himself and the talented musicians he’s assembled, it’s clear that while McBain is comfortable with his supporting cast, he’s determined not to put out the same album twice.

What impresses me most with Coronach is that McBain manages to broaden Hellripper’s auditory palette without ever losing the band’s core identity. “Hunderprest” and “Coronach” brim with the band’s trademark rippin’ riffs, yet the solos recall southern rock shredding à la Lynyrd Skynyrd or The Outlaws played at one-and-a-half speed. “Sculptor’s Cave,” meanwhile, channels what El Cuervo affectionately dubbed ‘Motörhead on cocaine’ energy during its “Rock ‘n’ Roll”-informed solo. A pervasive punk attitude also shimmers beneath the surface of Coronach, where the unadorned guitar refrains from “Kinchyle (Goatkraft and Granite),” “Sculptor’s Cave,” and “Mortercheyn” evoke more technical versions of Bad Religion and The Offspring. Tying it all together and allowing the myriad influences to coalesce, the mix ensures this is the best Hellripper has sounded, retaining their raw edge while dialing back the ‘everything louder than everything else’ approach that afflicted past albums—The Affair of the Poisons in particular.

Doubtlessly, Hellripper has dropped their finest release so far with Coronach, though a few small adjustments could have boosted it to undisputed excellence. “Baobhan Sith (Waltz of the Damned)” runs a tad too long, and although I like “Mortercheyn,” it doesn’t quite live up to the heights of the other tracks. Even so, I unapologetically return to Coronach again and again with no signs of slowing down. Just remember—Coronach must be taken while driving or operating heavy machinery. If lethargy creeps in or your mouth runs dry from a chronic deficit of Vitamin R, just take one to two doses of Coronach (by ear) and wait for Hellripper’s restorative fix to kick in.1

Rating: Great!!
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Century Media Records
Websites: Website | Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: March 27th, 2026

WORM - 'Necropalace' by @wormgloom & @centurymediarecords _ Review Online Now @twilight_magazin

https://www.twilight-magazin.de/reviews/musik-review/worm-necropalace

#linsedunemanninen
#blackmetal
#doommetal
#metalpunksteel
#speedmetalpunx
#heavymetal
#metal
#centurymediarecords
#harz
#einharz
#harzmountains
#twilightmagazin
https://www.instagram.com/p/DVEJuWujEqL/?igsh=MWIycXN2cGtwbGY3bw==

Worms are rich fodder for metal band names,1 and it’s not hard to see why. They’re gross, alienlike, and carry connotations of death and decay; and that’s before you start spelling it with a ‘v’ and thereby reference dragons, sea monsters, and the Devil himself. While sharing the collective imagination, this Worm definitely distinguishes themselves. After a shaky start, it was Foreverglade that first saw Worm realize their potential with a lean towards doom-death that retained just enough synth-forward black metal and balanced a murky soundscape with syrupy sweet guitar solos. Since then, Bluenothing and Dream Unending split Starpath developed this characteristic sound, extending further into the spooky and atmospheric, whilst never losing sight of the slimy heaviness that apparently makes their music inaccessible to around 99% of the human population. Necropalace being released on Century Media indicates the kind of meteoric rise the band has recently enjoyed,2 but far from selling out, it’s this album that feels like Worm being the most entirely and unapologetically themselves they’ve ever been; and it pays off.

Necropalace is instantly identifiable as a Worm album: disEMBOWELMENT-esque cavernous doom-death, a dungeon-synth level of fondness for keyboards, and surprisingly beautiful lead guitars all echoing in a cavernous mist. However, following the trajectory set by the interim EP and split, the music now channels a different subgenre of horror. The grandiosity is more theatrical than imposing, the tone is haunting not by a sense of dread, but by an almost camp spookiness, and more time than before is given over to explosive forays into faster tempos. That may sound bad, but it’s brilliant. This expansion into pretty much all black metal has to offer musically gives Worm’s signature interweaving of sinister heaviness and eerie echoey melody room to spread its wings and express all the otherworldly magic and brooding drama it always teased. In Necropalace, Worm transform fully from the swamp beast of yore into the haunted-castle-guarding dragon out of some weird dream nightmare.

Necropalace (24-bit HD audio) by Worm

Everything unique and great about Worm finds a new, more vibrant side on Necropalace. The drawling doom is gloomier; the guitar melodies more exuberant; the reverb and distortion more huge; the atmosphere richer; the synths, ominous choirs, and bells, and distortion more delicious. Guitarist Wroth Septentrion—a.k.a Philippe Tougas of First Fragment—holds nothing back. Dazzling flourishes (“Halls of Weeping”) and lush, crooning refrains (“The Night Has Fangs,” “Blackheart”) spill across the resonant black(ened doom), and arc upwards in great swoops (“Necropalace,” Witchmoon: The Infernal Masquerade”). It’s the most beautiful Worm has ever been, yet retains that layer of grime Worm is so recognisable for. It works so well thanks to supernaturally perfect interplay between keyboard and guitar, where each is expressive and layered in their own right (“Gates to the Shadowzone (Intro)”), and picks up or embellishes the other’s lines. A vibrant dance of strings comes naturally from tense chords of choir (“The Night Has Fangs”) or piano cascades out of dirt-laden riffs (“Necropalace,” “Witchmoon”), and the purring rhythms of synth bleed seamlessly into extreme metal (“Necropalace,” “Dragon Dreams”). The crashing drums and clattering swords, rising synths and bold keys, and the way Phantom Slaughter’s shrieking or apathetic spoken-word echoes phantasmally—all folded into these strikingly melodic forms—together create a kind of operatic melodrama that is endlessly fun to experience.

At this point, I’d normally be adding a caveat, and I’m not starved for choice, in theory. Necropalace is just over an hour long, which might be too much time in the Shadowzone for some, but the time absolutely flies by. A reluctance to edit is also implied by the typically unpopular use of an intro with instrumental “Gates to the Shadowzone (Intro),” which—unlike on Foreverglade3—actually is a shorter track. As its title implies, however, its ominous dungeon synth and shimmering soloing work well to induct the listener into the weird world that follows. And the guitarwork of Marty Friedman—who guests on closer “Witchmoon”—fits so brilliantly with everything Worm has crafted up to this point that it acts as a final, epic flourish that more than capitalises on his—and every member’s—skill.

Despite committing so fully to the spooky and loosening the reins on compositional structure and melody, Worm has not lost their grip on writing heavy, engaging songs. With its bombastic sense of fun and theatricality and a beauty that stays firmly entrenched in the dark and dirty, Necropalace shows Worm evolving in a way that magnifies rather than dilutes their personality. If more people hear it due to signing with a bigger label, then that’s only a good thing. I can’t stop listening myself. This is the album Worm was born to create.

Rating: Excellent
DR: ?4 | Format Reviewed: Stream
Label: Century Media
Website: Bandcamp | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: February 13th, 2026

Mayhem’s reputation will forever be linked to their early days, inescapably tethered to the chaos of death. While it’s impossible not to acknowledge those grisly events when considering the band’s legacy, they detract from the unyielding musical vision Mayhem has etched into metal mythology. From the beginning, Mayhem has been at the forefront as one of black metal’s tastemakers and breath-takers. Over four decades in, Mayhem returns with Liturgy of Death—a fitting subject considering the band’s sordid origins and their penchant for metaphysical musings. This far into their career, does Mayhem still command the black metal magic that has shaped the genre for decades?

Before Mysteriisly disappearing, Diabolus in Muzaka astutely observed in Daemon’s review, ‘Mayhem’s career is an anthology, not an arc.’ This neatly summarizes the band’s approach, as they take their time to craft each album around a central motif. Sure, there’s been discourse around the direction they take at times, and while not every album pleases every fan, I can’t deny that each time Mayhem releases a new LP, I’m reliably presented with a fully committed statement. On Liturgy of Death, Mayhem unravels the threads of mortality and, from various perspectives, examines fate’s inexorable call, confronting one of life’s unifying truths with cold clarity.

Liturgy of Death (24-bit HD audio) by Mayhem

Musically, Mayhem is in top form throughout Liturgy of Death, with each musician discharging devastating drama. Attila Csihar delivers an inspired performance, croaking and growling in animalistic throes and belting out grandiose, operatic cleans that are jarring yet effective (“Despair”). His diverse stylings cover an extensive array of emotions surrounding death’s isolating embrace, from primal denial to stoic acceptance, and throughout Attila oozes poise and pathos. Instrumentally, Mayhem’s rhythm section drives Liturgy of Death’s momentum with unabashed candor, rarely reaching for frills or frippery while impressing with unapologetic assuredness. Hellhammer pounds and pummels with punishing grooves, maintaining steady blast beats for herculean stretches (“Ephemeral Eternity,” “Aeon’s End”) and bursting forth with exacting fills and skull-battering rolls when needed (“Propitious Death”). Necrobutcher wields the bass with a malicious punch, rumbling with dour fluidity and occasionally thrumming into the spotlight (“Realm of Endless Misery”). Guitarists Teloch and Ghul torch proceedings with six-string truculence, whipping out spidery riffs (“Weep for Nothing”) in between furious, second-wave trems (“Funeral of Existence”) and erratic solos (“Aeon’s End”). Liturgy of Death culminates in “The Sentence of Absolution,” Mayhem’s most powerful closer to date. After a slow-build intro, dissonant guitars bleat as Hellhammer’s calculated fury propels the track into swirling, hypnotic rhythms that fade into tribal drumming and chanting, climaxing in a restrained denouement that’s unparalleled in Mayhem’s oeuvre.1

Considering the strength of Mayhem’s thematic and musical execution, Liturgy of Death leaves little fault to find. At a reasonable forty-nine minutes, the Norwegian outfit’s latest offering crams in oodles of ideas and perspectives. Given the aural onslaught on tap, the mix affords ample space to discern what the guitars, bass, and drums are doing while the vocals retain presence and coherence. At its busiest, Liturgy of Death can sound compressed and overloud, but these moments are rare and don’t distract or overwhelm.2 Otherwise, the only drawback to a composition this dense is that it’s easy to let Mayhem’s subtle wiles slip past during casual spins. I enjoyed Liturgy of Death from the outset, but only after multiple active listens did I come to truly appreciate its dizzying ambition. This ultimately acts as a boon for Liturgy, as dedicated time with it rewards listeners with a surfeit of concepts and conclusions, and leaves me wanting to replay it once more as soon as the last track ends.

With Liturgy of Death, Mayhem presents a tightly wound and philosophical composition on one of life’s most unsettling inevitabilities, and in doing so continues to defy AMG’s Law of Diminishing Recordings™. Above all, Mayhem endures, reaffirming their place amongst metal’s most lionized acts, bearing a relevant and thought-provoking theme that’s as inescapable as it is multifaceted. Never content to compromise, Mayhem once again demonstrates why they’re the standard so many black metal bands are measured by. It’s always refreshing to see influential bands muster this kind of success so far into their careers. Don’t take my word for it, though—grab your corpse paint and go get liturgical!

Rating: Excellent
DR: N/A | Format Reviewed: De Misery Dom Streamthanas
Label: Century Media Records
Websites: Website | Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: February 6th, 2026