ADVENT24/25_DEC24
Mistigram: The damn beautiful fool of an elf did it, he went too far this time, pulling off one final Christmas… but at what cost? This depiction of Santa’s gift-wrapped funeral was drawn by @littlebitspace and LDA for this date in last year’s ADVENT24 #ANSIart #AdventCalendar.
#adventCalendar #ADVENT24 #ANSIArt #ChristmasDay #Dec25 #funeral #LDA #littlebitspace
People of #Fediverse can anyone please Boost my pinned toot🙏🥺 I really appreciate it & im truly grateful to people that show me some kindness through messages, words & by boosting my posts. I hoep you all are having a good day specially its christmas day! 
Fromsoftware’s behemoth action-RPG Elden Ring is an enigma. How a game so obtuse, difficult, and uniquely itself in its visuals and storytelling became the blockbuster that it is baffles me, and it’s one of those precious pieces of art that simply makes me happy to live in the same world as it. It’s also metal as anything can be. Bands like Fell Omen have tapped into the game’s mythology for inspiration before and, now, the international blackened death duo Starscourge enter the fray with their debut Conqueror of the Stars – Betwixt Sundered Seraphim, the Lands Between Bleed. Promising serious riffage and an emphasis on storytelling, instrumentalist Zul Bharoocha (Sweden) and vocalist Mithun MK (Singapore) have already overcome one great obstacle by getting this thing made at all. But what did Starscourge achieve with Conqueror of the Stars…? I doubt you could even imagine it…
Conqueror of the Stars…’s full title is comically verbose, but it foreshadows the sheer opulent regality exuded by Starscourge. The band masterfully captures Elden Ring’s demi-deific power struggle through massive riff-craft supported by extravagant (synth) orchestration and choir. “Ranni’s Requiem – A Night of Black Knives” imposes regal grandiosity through overwhelming choirs and guitar leads, while the weight with which “The Battle of Aeonia” heaves itself feels genuinely symphonic. “Athwart Hereditary Taint, Thence Doth the Valkyrie Ride” wields a wonderful balance of airy dueling guitars and piano and blistering, throat-shredding black metal, standing in contrast to the maniacal, overtly evil decadence of “Together, My Serpentine Valentine” immediately following. Even the Slayer cover “Spirit in Black” sounds opulent, imbuing MK’s Araya impersonation with the arrogant pomp suited to a Golden Order lord of Elden Ring. If you like your metal as haughty as it is heavy, Starscourge is your band and Conqueror of the Stars… is your album.
Athwart Hereditary Taint, Thence Doth The Valkyrie Ride by Starscourge
Conqueror of the Stars… may reek of vainglory and overwriting, but don’t be fooled: Starscourge are exhilarating. Bharoocha’s riffs tap into the fullest majesty of black metal (“The Shattering”) and melodeath’s sharpest hooks (“I Am the Starscourge”), even indulging in NWOBHM-isms on “The Battle of Aeonia.” MK’s growls resemble a mix of Aeternam’s Achraf Loudiy and Lamb of God’s Randy Blythe, while his cleans recall both Borknagar’s ICS Vortex and, when he breaks out the falsettos, King Diamond. Conqueror of the Stars… rages from start to finish,1 whether by propulsive chops on “Whereunto Frenzy Beckoneth” or furious tremolos on “Destiny’s Dastardly Dynasty,” and Bharoocha’s leads and solos approach Moonlight Sorcery levels of show-off-ness in their technicality (“Blessings Upon the Golden Throne”). Starscourge also prove expert editors, as everything but “The Battle of Aeonia” sits tight at three to four minutes of no fat, all muscle goodness.2 Starscourge could’ve afforded to put on some weight, as both “Blessings Upon the Golden Order” and “I Am the Starscourge” end somewhat anticlimactically. Like Elden Ring, Conqueror of the Stars… brings the goods in great quantity without resorting to padding.
But there’s no avoiding Starscourge’s Achilles heel: insistence upon voice acting. Opener “Betwixt Sundered Seraphim…” sees Starscourge read off one of Elden Ring’s trailer scripts in an unconvincing Shakespearean inflection over boring synths, failing to either achieve the dramatic pulse of the original read or excite the listener. This is the least offensive spoken word moment on the album, however, because it at least doesn’t distract from a good instrumental. Too often, a bruising riff (“Destiny’s Dastardly Dynasty”), half a solo (“The Shattering”), or a slow build-up (“The Battle of Aeonia”) is buried under cringey monologue that doesn’t immerse the listener into the story any better than a compelling instrumental could’ve. Given voice acting’s prominent role in Conqueror of the Stars…, it’s clear that Starscourge think of it as an integral factor of their style. I don’t. It’s boring, a bit silly, and stands in conflict with the rest of the music. Conqueror of the Stars… is already an engrossing, deeply dramatic record without it, so why insist upon it?3
But even with Starscourge’s voice acting woes, not to mention less-than-thrilling mixing and mastering,4 Conqueror of the Stars – Betwixt Sundered Seraphim, the Lands Between Bleed is a monumentally entertaining record. Both grandiose and lean, the few but notable hiccups this album has just barely held my hand from shattering the Score Safety Box one last time this year. Whether you abide by the frenzy of black metal or live in death, or just really like Elden Ring, Conqueror of the Stars… is an easy recommendation. Bear witness!
Rating: Very Good…
DR: 6… | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps MP3…
Label: Self-Release…
Websites: facebook.com/official.starscourge | starscourgeofficial.bandcamp.com …
Releases Worldwide: December 19th, 2025…
You’ve heard me rant about the horrors that lurk in the promo sump come December, and how it’s mostly sub-basement black metal made by those who live on gas station pizza rolls. That kind of low-target high-risk environment is why I noticed the offering from German trve metal act Olymp and took action upon it rashly. Before we go any further, I need to point out that Olymp (I assume short of Olympus) is a truly godawful name. It also sounds like an erectile dysfunction medication. The fact that their sophomore album is titled Rising makes the comparison all the more… turgid, while also suggesting an entire marketing campaign for gas station dick pills. Also, that album art is next-level BAD. On the plus side, it’s probably not AI-generated. Poor moniker and dubious art choices aside, Olymp play a burly, beefy, 80s-centric variant of trve heavy metal with elements of Cirith Ungol and Manilla Road in the DNA. They also hit the same ground as their fellow countrymen, the long-running cheeseball power warriors, Wizard. That means Olymp teeter on that razor edge between serious and trve and over-the-top, cheddar-infected cornballery, which is a tough place to make a glorious last stand. But all hope is not lost, Olympi-Won!
After a table-setting instrumental, the Olymp ethos is unveiled on “Olive Wreath.” It involves hammering you relentlessly with beefy riffage as Sebastian Tölle delivers a rough, raw bellow that’s more shout than sing. He sits somewhere between the legendary Tim Baker of Cirith Ungol and Matias Nastolin of Desolate Realm, and his gruff style generally fits the sound and adds an extra layer of toughness. At times, “Olive Wreath” reminds me of long-forgotten German speed metal fiends Iron Angel and Deathrow, and the guitar phrasing often veers heavily into Cirith Ungol territory. These are all big pluses in my book, and if they gave me a whole album of this meaty broth, I’d happily overlook the issues discussed in the intro. “Thread of Life” is another iron fist to the cranium with burly, simplistic riffs pounding your brain nonstop, and it’s not far removed from what classic Gravedigger did/still do.
Olymp’s style is exceptionally simple, direct, and old school, and when it works, you get cuts like the slam-banging “Orpheus,” which riffs hard enough to shake teeth loose and addle your brain gelatin. The same goes for album closer “White Rose” which is laden with harmonies and flourishes that strongly recall Cirith Ungol. It’s an effective metal chestnut with a nice touch of melancholy. Not every cut pulls off the ancient alchemy, though. “Fire and Brimstone” comes off as really old Saxon and off-brand Manowar sutured together badly, and it’s dumb as hell. “Titan War” is aggressive and punchy, with Tölle sounding more like Tim Baker than usual, but things run too long, and the last few minutes feel tedious. “Olymp” also suffers from a late-song lag. While several songs extend too far considering the number of ideas presented, most tracks manage to avoid the bloat contagion. At 40 minutes, Rising feels like a quick enough spin, and the aggression levels keep it humming.
The biggest snag for Olymp is Sebastian Tölle’s vocals, which are too limited and one-note. As a poor man’s Tim Baker, his raw, ragged shouting works best on the most aggressive numbers, but as the album drags on, his delivery becomes more and more irritating. He isn’t able to elevate the material consistently, and you find yourself wishing he had another gear. The guitar work by Tölle and Armin Amboss reeks of the 80s trve metal era, and they do borrow a lot from Cirith Ungol and Manilla Road while beefing up the tones for maximum impact. Their playing is a highlight and routinely drops nostalgia glitter on those who grew up in the 80s.
Olymp play a style I’m predisposed to enjoy, and I do appreciate most of what they offer on Rising. If they could smooth out some of the rough spots in their songsmithing and improve the vocals, Olymp could become a worthy opponent for the likes of Eternal Champion and Dragon Skull. As things stand, they’re more a rowdy street thug than a noble barbarian. Here’s to rising on command!
Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Metalizer
Websites: olymp-band.com | olympmetal.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/olympmetal
Releases Worldwide: December 19th, 2025
By Grin Reaper
Dense, dark, and demented, Lychgate’s Precipice breaks nearly six years of silence with music as unsettling as the concept it’s built upon. The album’s primary inspiration draws from E. M. Forster’s short story “The Machine Stops,” a dystopian tale first published in 1909 that cautions against over-reliance on technology.1 In it, The Machine enables people to govern their lives from isolated chambers, interacting virtually rather than in person after the Earth’s surface becomes uninhabitable. Integrating notions such as blind obedience to technology, instantaneous communication, and climate change furnishes a lavish backdrop for London’s Lychgate and their fourth LP.2 Given the promise of its premise, does Precipice step off the ledge and soar, or plummet to the depths of obscurity?
Brandishing a broad array of atmospheres and a flair for generating tension, Lychgate conjures oppressive auras that equally frighten and excite. To that end, Precipice’s aural footprint lands somewhere between Blut aus Nord’s dissonant grooves and a decelerated Imperial Triumphant at their most cinematic (think “Transmission to Mercury”), taking the avant-garde trappings of each and devising a mood and character all Lychgate’s own. Emboldened by jazzy flourishes à la Dødheimsgard, Scarcity’s cacophonous, freeform nonconformity, and Morast’s caustic claustrophobia, Lychgate forges an unforgiving yet layered experience that outstrips single reference points. Tensions runs roughshod throughout Precipice, knotting its nine tracks into gnarled enigmas that demand to be sussed out with care. Gone are the clean vocals from The Contagion in Nine Steps and An Antidote for the Glass Pill, and instead vocalist Greg Chandler focuses solely on barks and snarls that remind of Doug Moore’s urgent rasps. Atop it all, Lychgate further embeds the organ into the band’s core sound and discharges potent riffs at key climactic junctures, leaving Precipice crackling with vitality and unpredictability.
Precipice’s varied compositions and instrumentations coalesce to propel Lychgate to new heights. It’s a mature release that exemplifies the prevailing virtues of prior albums, unifying them into an impressively intricate forty-eight minutes. The organ, credited to permanent member J. C. Young and session musician F. A. Young, plays a central role, spanning the gamut from lunatic funhouse (“Anagnorisis”) to Phantom of the Opera gothic drama (“Mausoleum of Steel”). It keenly weaves a calculated stress, plying tension in ebbs and flows that cleverly and constantly push the album forward. Besides organ and piano, loose guitar structures regularly bleed into riffs plucked out of an eldritch ether, oscillating between Zappa’s Jazz from Hell and unearthly, pit-scorching acrobatics (“Renunciation”). A doleful, introspective melody in “The Meeting of Orion and Scorpio” diversifies the sound and pacing, followed by a hectic skittering in “Hive of Parasites” that gives way to a slow-burn passage heavily featuring jazz flute. Myriad components fuse into a whole that should not sound as cohesive as it does, but Lychgate takes their carnival of sounds and crafts a finely-honed album that deserves more attention than it will get with an end-of-year release.
Lychgate employs a satisfying and well-considered array of ideas in service of Precipice, though a few hiccups are present. Besides the musical diversity, Lychgate flaunts remarkable instincts when it comes to pacing. Having the longest track as the midpoint of the album works well and helps establish a clear listening milestone; I only wish the back end of “Hive of Parasites” had been trimmed a touch, as the last three minutes blur together. The mix is another boon, providing ample space for S. D. Lindsley’s guitar, Tom MacLean’s bass, and T. J. F. Vallely’s drums. The only quibble is Precipice’s density, which could put off those lacking the time to absorb its demure gifts. All told, though, Lychgate earns every bit of praise by merging this many ideas so cohesively.
Despite its late release and complex composition, Lychgate delivers a smash success that commands and indisputably warrants your attention. Precipice isn’t easy to understand, but it’s irresistibly easy to spin again and again. And you should, because it takes time to unravel.3 Precipice has been one of my most played albums of the year at a time when I’ve been busiest both personally and professionally, routinely ensnaring me with its enchanting hooks and wiles. For my money, Lychgate has released the best album of their career, and you owe it to yourself to step up to the Precipice and take a leap of faith.
Rating: Great
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Debemur Morti Productions
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: December 19th, 2025
#2025 #40 #AvantGardeBlackMetal #BlackMetal #BlutAusNord #DebemurMortiProductions #Dec25 #Dödheimsgard #EnglishMetal #FrankZappa #ImperialTriumphant #Lychgate #Morast #Precipice #Review #Reviews
House by the Cemetary – Disturbing the Cenotaph Review
By Tyme
From Imperial Doom to The Passage of Existence, Monstrosity has one of the most solid death metal discographies on record.1 And while I’ve always gravitated toward those early Corpsegrinder albums, the performance Mike Hrubovcak turned in on The Passage of Existence was brutally good. Now, when he’s not creating sick cover art or contributing to his other projects—Azure Emote, Hypoxia, or Imperial Crystalline Entombment—Hrubovcak partners with the inimitable, no-band-too-big-or-small-for-me-to-play-in, personal injury lawyer guitarist Rogga Johannson to front House by the Cemetary. Just a year and some change off the heels of HbtC’s 2024 sophomore effort, The Mortuary Hauntings, and rounded out this time by ex-The Hate Project drummer Thomas Ohlsson, House by the Cemetary is ready to stuff your holiday stocking with their third opus, Disturbing the Cenotaph. Let’s dig in and see which of Santa’s lists House by the Cemetary ends up on.
House by the Cemetary play drop-of-water-in-a-vast-ocean OSDM, so if you’re looking for something wholly original and mindblowing, you should look elsewhere. Far removed from their HM-2 abusive Rise of the Rotten debut, Disturbing the Cenotaph forgoes the fuzz, supplying a bevy of mid-paced Rogga riffs that Hot Topic kids listening to Six Feet Under or Bone Gnawer might bang their heads to (“Island of the Dead,” “Phantom Intrusions”). Foregoing scalpels, Rogga turns in a solo-less performance that bluntly forces trauma through brute-force chugs, with the occasional wade into melodic waters (“Burial Disturbance”), imparting some level of diversity. And while Rogga handles bass duties as well, there’s not a whole lot on offer that draws my attention to that instrument’s existence on Disturbing the Cenotaph. Meanwhile, Ohlsson does a decent job of keeping everything in line with a serviceable death-metal drum performance. House by the Cemetary relies almost exclusively on tropes to survive, even its influences trodding well-worn horror paths from Fulci, to Night of the Living Dead and Texas Chainsaw Massacre.
Despite House by the Cemetary’s adherence to a strict, almost Lite Brite® death metal template, there were a couple of moments on Disturbing the Cenotaph that drew my attention. One track I gladly revisited was “Massive Cadaver Resurrection,” with its very late-era Carcass vibe filled with a nice groove and some steely melodicism that spilled over into follow-up song “Undead Apocalypse,” which seemed to use the same set of notes as its predecessor but employed them at a slower, doomier pace; the track easily evoking images of a street filled with lumbering zombies. Notwithstanding these two songs, the only ones on the album that flirt around the four-minute mark as well, for what it’s worth, there’s not a lot on Disturbing the Cenotaph that elevates House by the Cemetary out of that vast ocean of also-rans.
Disturbing the Cenotaph is plagued with many of the same flaws as the last Rogga project I reviewed, Leper Colony, which also had a very paint-by-numbers approach. There are a couple of remaining factors, however, that save Disturbing the Cenotaph, albeit tenuously, from suffering a similar fate. For one, Mike Hrubovcak is a hell of a death metal vocalist, and his discernible yet deadly growls, howls, and screams go a long way toward keeping House by the Cemetary from sinking to the bottom of the death metal sea. Second, Håkan Stuvemark’s (WOMBBATH) mix is surprisingly warm and makes Disturbing the Cenotaph a pretty easy listening experience, though, comparatively speaking, “Chopsticks” is still “Chopsticks,” even if it’s mixed with a DR of 11.
There’s nothing wrong with simple. In fact, I love me some simple, knuckle-dragging death metal if, even in its simplicity, it can move me. My problem with Disturbing the Cenotaph, despite its great vocals and warm production, is that it feels lifeless and void of any real power. I’m comforted in knowing I can get a quality fix of Hrubovcak’s vocals by revisiting Monstrosity or Hypoxia, and of Rogga’s riffs, by way of Ribspreader or Paganizer. As it stands, I might throw “Massive Cadaver Resurrection” on a 2025 playlist, but beyond that, I will not be returning to Disturbing the Cenotaph beyond this review’s final period.
Rating: 2.0/5.0
DR: 11 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Pulverised Records
Website: Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: December 12, 2025
#20 #2025 #AmericanMetal #BoneGnawer #DeathMetal #Dec25 #DisturbingTheCenotaph #HouseByTheCemetary #PulverisedRecords #Review #SixFeetUnder #SwedishMetal
Upon a Burning Body – Blood of the Bull Review
By Dear Hollow
Upon a Burning Body is back, baby. Your favorite groovy Texans are ready to lay on the hurt with as many riffs as your ears can muster. Predecessor 2022’s Fury offered a no-frills attack that more substantially simplified the attack, recalling more the groove-oriented likes of Pantera or Lamb of God, as opposed to the longstanding comparisons to deathcore’s partyharders Attila and “fight everyone” breakdowners Emmure to whom they’ve been compared in the past. It seemed like a new direction for the San Antonio quartet, even if hindered by some grunge-inspired cleans and sporadic and uneven homages to their deathcore roots. Blood of the Bull tries to reconcile a new direction and a past that still haunts them.
Blood of the Bull is indeed Upon a Burning Body firing on all cylinders – although its direction remains questionable. Ruben Alvarez’s guitar work is immediately recognizable, a bluesy edge and layered rhythms with manic solos to boot, Tito Felix’s drumming is as unhinged as you’d expect,1 while Danny Leal’s vocals have returned to peak form, honed mids to complement his vicious lows – even bassist/vocalist Thomas Alvarez’s cleans are better than last go. In Blood of the Bull, poppier choruses contrast heavier to its breakneck riffs and metalcore leanings, leaving it slightly below Fury in its effectiveness but remaining a solid installment in Upon a Burning Body’s rodeo of a discography.
In many ways, Blood of the Bull exists as the band’s most experimental outing. While it channels Fury’s propensity for groove, Thomas Alvarez forgoes on the grungy tone almost entirely for the most soulful choruses the band has ever offered, tracks which often feature newfound synth in creeping intros or interludes (“Daywalker,” “Another Ghost,” “Living in a Matrix”). While the presence of these assets could potentially dull the teeth that Upon a Burning Body’s sound naturally possesses, they refuse to let that stop them. Their cleaner tracks feel bigger and more significant than ever before, albeit imperfect: the soaring melodies can feel shoehorned alongside groove or deathcore beatdowns, although the lyricism (for once) sometimes improves this issue (“Another Ghost”) and ruins it for others (“Reckless Love”). The mariachi returns full-force, a welcome homage to the group’s roots (“Sangre del Toro,” “An Insatiable Hunger”).
If the tracks with clean singing are risks with mixed payoff, then, when Upon a Burning Body conjures syncopated grooves and commanding vocals with memorable one-liners offer the best listening on Blood of the Bull. Furious shredding, wild solos, and Leal’s signature vocal attack offer a trifecta of headbanging goodness. No one growls profanity the way Leal does, and while it was noticeably absent in Fury, the “fucking” one-liners pump adrenaline (“Killshot,” “Curse Breaker”) while other tracks manage to feel kickass and brooding simultaneously (“Hand of God”), highlighting Upon a Burning Body’s vocal return to deathcore’s intensity. It can be odd and off-putting when songs that feature the most intense groove riffs can also feature those soulful choruses (“Daywalker,” “Living in a Matrix”), but aside from the aforementioned, these don’t feel as awkward as I expected.
Upon a Burning Body amps almost everything in its attempt to reconcile the old with the new, and if nothing else, the effort is noted. There is more than enough corny lyrics, ham- beef-fisted anthems, and soaring clean choruses aboard Blood of the Bull, but in this way, it feels more like Upon a Burning Body than they’ve been in a hot minute. Thankfully, if you can look past the flaws, the band’s seventh full-length is at its worst full of crunchy grooves, mind-numbing breakdowns, and jarring tonal shifts, but if that’s its worst – with Danny Leal and Ruben Alvarez leading the attack – that’s a worst I can get behind. Also, highlights like “Another Ghost” or “Daywalker” feel like flashes of potential not yet seen in lyrics or songwriting. For now, it’s Upon a Burning Body, love ’em or hate ’em: a whole lotta bull.
Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: N/A | Format Reviewed: Stream
Label: Self-Released
Websites: uponaburningbody.bandcamp.com | uabbtx.com | facebook.com/uponaburningbody
Releases Worldwide: December 5th, 2025
#2025 #30 #AmericanMetal #Attila #BloodOfTheBull #Deathcore #Dec25 #Emmure #GrooveMetal #LambOfGod #Metalcore #Pantera #Review #Reviews #SelfReleased #UponABurningBody
Pedestal for Leviathan – Enter: Vampyric Manifestation Review
By Kenstrosity
Depending on what you already know about the castle to your left and what it holds, this review will either come late, very late, or right on time (read: actually on time or only slightly late). That’s because Colorado’s goth-soaked symphonic brutal death upstarts Pedestal for Leviathan originally self-released their debut LP, Enter: Vampyric Manifestation, on Halloween. In short order, it was picked up for distro by Gurgling Gore Productions, who released it again digitally on November 14th (with physical cassettes dropping December 12th). Then, Personal Records also picked it up for yet another digi release, along with a compact disc release, set for December 12th. Having none of this information prior to picking up Personal Records’ promo for review, needless to say, I was confused and frustrated. However, Enter: Vampyric Manifestation was simply too cool not to write about, so here we are.
Pedestal for Leviathan is the answer to the question: how can I get truly superhuman gains in my Transylvanian vampire castle’s basement gym complex? Really, the question should be: how would I not secure superhuman gains when riffs muscular enough to impede movement are, in fact, often as strong as they look. Riff after beastly riff, in conjunction with positively ignorant percussive grooves, wreck spines and rip muscle fibers apart, while gothic organs, ominous bells, and plucky strings heal the damage wrought so efficiently that just as soon as it seemed like I was dead, I am reborn stronger than before. This is the core of Pedestal for Leviathan’s sound, and it’s a formula that bloody works. While the standard version of Enter: Vampyric Manifestation clocks in at a suspiciously tight 24 minutes spread across eight songs, the Personal Records edition boasts three extra bonus tracks, beefing the runtime up to a healthy 34 minutes. And, aside from a slightly tweaked guitar tone that shifts towards the blackened, each of these three additions fits perfectly in the sequence, making this version of Pedestal for Leviathan’s debut the most well-rounded and fleshed out choice.
That said, these ten tracks (excluding instrumental interlude “Snow Covered Monolith”) are a clinic in dark, but fun brutal death with a dramatic streak and a slammy attitude. Equal parts Tomb Mold, Rotpit, Bodybox, and Dracula, Enter: Vampyric Manifestation launches with two heavy-hitting beatdowns worth sinking my teeth into and drawing life essence from. With the downright sexy grooves churning out of “Summoning Sickness” and staining the whimsical sharpness of “Lycanthropichrist,” Pedestal for Leviathan deftly balance the cavebrained heft and guttural utterances of the br00tal with the rich and velvety textures of something more sophisticated in principle. With that balance comes lethality, as demonstrated by the sheer impact that late-album weaponized riff-machines “Karmic Recollection Mirror” and “Warlock Blacksmith” level upon my flesh and bone.
By taking something untamed and primal like brutal death metal, and using something softer and silkier to add shape and texture, the Colorado four-banger created an interesting, engaging, and above all, reconciled experience (“Sanctity of Retribution,” “Purgatory Displacement”). While a record in this category would work just fine without the organs, the strings, the choirs, and the bells (most of which are, expectedly, likely sampled sounds rather than real instruments), those extra baubles aren’t just for show. They add substance, character, and gravity to pivotal moments that punctuate riffs, contextualize phrase transitions, and enhance the spaces around metallic elements without crowding them unnecessarily (“Lycanthropichrist,” “Warlock Blacksmith,” “Nightshade Familiar”). The only exception is interlude “Snow Covered Monolith,” which amounts to pure fluff and offers little in the way of the aforementioned benefits.
Enter: Vampyric Manifestation falls shy of something groundbreaking, but reeks with weapons-grade stench on Pedestal for Leviathan’s behalf. If the group can capitalize on Enter’s bonecrushing successes while steering clear of pitfalls or missteps like “Snow Covered Monolith”—which disrupts as severely as it does in part due to the record’s brevity—or the odd shift in guitar tone in this version’s otherwise worthy bonus tracks,1 then I don’t see how Pedestal for Leviathan couldn’t alter the field in which they frolic. For now, though, be free and revel with great mirth under the shadowed, steepled glory that is Enter: Vampyric Manifestation.
Rating: Great
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Self-Release / GurglingGore / Personal Records
Websites: pedestalforleviathan.bandcamp.com | ampwall.com/a/pedestalforleviathan
Releases Worldwide: October 31st, 2025 (Self-Release) / November 14th, 2025 (Gurgling Gore) / December 12th, 2025 (Personal Records)
#2025 #40 #AmericanMetal #BlackMetal #Bodybox #BrutalDeathMetal #DeathMetal #Dec25 #EnterVampyricManifestation #PedestalForLeviathan #Review #Reviews #Rotpit #SelfReleaseGurglingGorePersonalRecords #SymphonicDeathMetal #SymphonicMetal #TombMold
Sacred Leather – Keep the Fire Burning Review
By Steel Druhm
I’ve never been to Indiana, so I’m not acquainted with how they do things. After listening to Sacred Leather’s sophomore outing, Keep the Fire Burning, I’m definitely left wondering if time moves differently there, though. That’s because this is one of the most retro, throwback-y pure metal things I’ve heard in some time, with a sound so hopelessly locked between 1983-1986, that I feel my back hair receding as my olde denim jacket grows new Venom and Motörhead patches. When I call this style “dated,” what I really mean is carbon-dated.1 Now, don’t take this as a criticism, as those years were some of the very best for classic heavy metal, and Sacred Leather do their damnedest to harvest the finest elements from a time when things were simple, pure, and still very based in hard-rock. As this album unspools, you’ll be whisked away to an age when Jag Panzer, Savage Grace, and Warlord ruled with a collective iron fist, and being labeled a poser was akin to a death sentence. Could you withstand the cred rigors of such a draconian time? Steel Druhm did once and would gladly do so again!
After a tasteful instrumental intro, Sacred Leather tan your worthless hide from point Ape to point ChimpanZee on “Spitfire at Night,” powered by the uber-period guitar work of J.J. Highway and Cvon Owens. It’s vintage metal with a speed injection, and it reminds me of long-forgotten German quasi-thrashers Vendetta mixed with Agent Steel. That’s 100% undiluted Steel bait, and the chum is thick and saucy here. Riffs churn and race, over-the-top solos stamp fat exclamation points, and frontman Dee Wrathchild screams and wails like a banshee on banshee meths. It’s a recipe for rowdy, high-energy shenanigans, and in the steady hands of Sacred Leather, this volatile brew sizzles and pops. “Phantom Highway (Hell is Comin’ Down)” delivers more lusty worship of excess. It’s a slick blend of NWoBHM and the most sturdy of mid-80s US metal, and it reminds me of Sumerlands. “Fallen Angel” channels the early days of Jag Panzer with big arena-ready guitars dueling with wanton vocals locked in overdrive as every ounce of meatheaded drama is wrung from the music. Sure, Mr. Wrathchild lets his voice get away from him at times, but that’s freaking metal, folks.
Song after song hits like a runaway freight train from 1985, and at no point will you want to step off the tracks. “Tear Out My Heart” feels like the bastard love child of Warlord and Savage Grace, with stunning guitars framing the kind of massive vocal drama that only 80s metal can provide. If you were looking for a burly, hard-as-nails breakup song for written for men who don’t cry, this is it. The title track channels the badass anthemic might of the criminally underappreciated Cities, and the band proudly honor their oath to keep the flame of the 80s burning bright. Just as you regain your senses, the big epic closer “Mistress of the Sun” arrives to make you love it or feel the wrath of Wrathchild. This is the same kind of larger-than-life metal tune as Krokus’ immortal “Screaming in the Night,” walking the line between anthem and power ballad and damn if it doesn’t tickle all the same nerve endings. There are no bad tracks, with each activating a major nostalgia bomb. So, what, if any, drawbacks will you encounter amid this most retro metal marination session? There are bits of bloat here and there, like on “Tear Out My Heart,” but not to the point where the songs are seriously undermined. In fact, at a tight 40 minutes, this thing feels like a fast-moving mission statement on how to properly worship the 80s, with a production about as trve to the time as one could hope for.
This is the kind of metal album that exudes guitar magic, and Highway and Owens spare no expense in decorating each song with the trappings of yesteryear. I hear many classic 80s albums referenced in their playing, and they really know the era they pay homage to. The riffs are energetic, beefy, and vibrant, and the harmonies and solos rock hard. Over the top of this solid foundation, Dee Wrathchild channels his inner metal god. Blessed with a broad range, he lets it all hang out, exploring his upper register freely and sometimes in ill-advised ways. He does seem to slip out of tune here and there when going all in, but I don’t especially care. Most of what he delivers is solid and commanding, checking all the boxes of 80s overkill and melodrama.
I love it when I blunder into some December release expecting little but getting my ass handed to me on a gleaming chrome platter. Sacred Leather bring the classic metal thunder, and if you love the sounds of the 80s, you should await the lightning strike. As winter moves ever closer, you too should Keep the Fire Burning. Any other choice would smack of flagrant poserism, and that would mean a visit from the Metal Inquisition. Be true to your olde school.
Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: King Volume Records / Wise Blood Records
Websites: facebook.com/leathersacredleather | instagram.com/sacred_leather
Releases Worldwide: December 12th, 2015
#2025 #35 #AgentSteel #AmericanMetal #Cities #Dec25 #HeavyMetal #JagPanzer #KeepTheFireBurning #Review #Reviews #SacredLeather #SavageGrace #SpeedMetal #Sumerlands #Vendetta #Warlord
Nattradio – The Longest Night Review
By Andy-War-Hall
It doesn’t seem to take long for the “wee hours” of the night to kick in these winter days. With them comes a very specific, almost hypnotic sadness that anyone who sleep has forsaken knows well. That tag-team of coldness and isolation brought on by the night just can’t be beat sometimes. Swedish goth/doom duo Nattradio know this sensation intimately, as their new album The Longest Night was written and shaped exclusively in the latest hours of the night. Injecting their Katatonia-inspired Gothic doom with elements of ambient music and noir jazz, Nattradio crafted their sophomore record to reflect the somberness of wakeful late nights, framing its ideal listening time in those hours. But will their efforts echo the sadness of the insomniac, or will The Longest Night just make them only long for sleep that much more?
Though Nattradio don’t skirt the qualifications of a metal band like Sleep Token or Ghost do, I am nonetheless reminded of more non-metal bands/artists than metal ones while listening to The Longest Night. Yes, Nattradio’s closest comparison is Katatonia, as songs like “Sketches from the Dark” and “Shifting Baseline” recall the slow, gloomy riffing of The Great Cold Distance, but The Cure seems to seep into The Longest Night’s formula just as often. Take the electronic drumming and wacky guitar effects of “Dark Streets” or the dreamy, heartbroken strings of “Rainbirds” and tell me you can’t picture Robert Smith listlessly crooning over them. Vocally, Martin Boman doesn’t have the grit typical to metal, but rather sits in the breathy middle of David Bowie and Thom Yorke. When engaged in ambient movements, Nattradio bring out the keys for spacious, dark atmospheres of jazzed-up smoothness that recall Poe and, similarly, could slide into the Alan Wake II soundtrack. Nattradio probably won’t hit for metal purists, but listeners of a wider range of genres might find a delightfully varied affair on The Longest Night.
Nattradio lean into their witching-hour moodiness above all else on The Longest Night. Slow, pensive progressions are imbued with mellow synths and Niklas Brodd’s layered guitars, while cold, bright piano chimes away on the interlude “All for You” and the ten-plus-minute title track. Boman’s high, soft delivery lends a precarious edge to The Longest Night, though his approach can feel unsuited for heavier moments and even plain off-key on “Sketches from the Dark.” Further, the soft vocals paired with Nattradio’s consistent bent towards melancholy mean The Longest Night is short on big, memorable moments. Even on The Longest Night’s most rocking tracks, “Shadow Speaker” and “Alright for Now,” the former featuring brisk double-kicks and the latter playing uber-catchy melodeath riffs that The Halo Effect would peddle, everything slows down eventually, and Boman’s wilting voice always brings back the melancholia before too long. In short, Nattradio’s brand of doom doesn’t dish out the riffs or theming meant to Fvneral Fvkk yov vp, but The Longest Night instead deals in a cozy melancholy, coldness you can settle into for a while.
Nattradio’s greatest strength on The Longest Night, however, is striking a compelling balance between busy and airy passages. Quiet verses and loud choruses are nothing new, but Nattradio always nail its execution, whether it’s moving from thumping bass to fist-pumping arena rock in “Alright for Now,” mournful piano to driving guitars on “The Longest Night,” or minimalist ambience giving way to thunderous tremolos on “Shadow Speaker.” The Longest Night’s dynamic mix really helps this end, allowing the big emotional shifts on “Night” and “The Longest Night” the breathing room needed to make it work. Nattradio know how to pace an album, and The Longest Night runs smoothly through its whole 52-minute runtime. Though lacking in powerful, “there it is” moments, The Longest Night is still an engaging record due to its expert balance not in light and dark but in fullness and ethereality.
The Longest Night isn’t anything to ruin your sleep schedule over, but Nattradio are a good group to turn to if you ever find yourself there already. Easy listening and sweetly sad, this is a record I found myself slightly more eager to get back to for each listen. Fans of Katatonia and anything under Goth’s sequined umbrella should consider checking this out. Nattradio knew what they were doing dropping The Longest Night at this time of year, and I’m sure I’ll return to it on some of my own long nights this winter.
Rating: Good
DR: 11 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s MP3
Label: Darkness Shall Rise Productions
Websites: nattradio.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/Nattradio
Releases Worldwide: December 12th, 2025
#2025 #30 #Ambient #DarknessShallRiseProductions #Dec25 #DoomMetal #FvneralFvkk #GothicMetal #Katatonia #Nattradio #Poe #Review #Reviews #SleepToken #SwedishMetal #TheCure #TheHaloEffect #TheLongestNight
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