For the second review in a row, I heard about a band via skimming YouTube, heard something I liked, and tracked down their promo. I’m used to working this from the other direction, but when the almighty algorithm gives, one must take and be thankful. Domhain is an atmospheric post-black metal band from Northern Ireland, and In Perfect Stillness is their debut full-length. With an emotionally charged sound and style, Domhain touches on the past works of Darkest Era, Primordial, and Agalloch while utilizing cellos and haunting female vocals to punctuate the melancholic, often grim moods they wallow in. Over the album’s runtime, they do a lot of things very well and a few things spectacularly. What they do best is keep me locked in, listening raptly to the ebb and flow of their compositions. There’s something here, and that something has teeth.

At just over 35 minutes, In Perfect Stillness is composed of a mood-setting intro and 4 songs running between 7-9 minutes. With so little meat on the bone, the marrow had best be savory and memorable, and Domhain achieve that. First track proper “Talamh Lom” kicks off in highly Gothic realms with post-y cold trems ungirding Andy Ennis’ plaintive, forlorn clean singing. He lapses into harsh blackened croaks soon enough, and when things slow down, the sawing cello appears alongside sad, ethereal vocals from cellist/drummer Anaïs Chareyre. It’s a beautiful and poignant combination that keeps you listening attentively as the band moves between harsh and fragile, heavy and soft. There’s a beautiful flow to the music that carries you away to another place and makes you forget about the passage of time. There are slight touches of A Swarm of the Sun here alongside Darkest Era-esque moments, and there’s a vague Warning vibe in the music too. “Footsteps II” bears a strong resemblance to the moodier moments of Ghost Brigade and Deathwhite, which is an easy way to win me over as the sadboi feelz flow like hobo wine on Skid Row.

The title track brings strong Agalloch notes as downcast but furious black metal takes centerstage, and select moments remind me of Nechochwen as well. The way the ethereal female vocals pair with the blackened rasps is captivating and expertly done, creating a wealth of emotional resonance. The album’s high point arrives with the 9-plus-minute “My Tomb Beneath the Tide,” which is a gigantic dose of negative emotions delivered in a beautiful, beguiling package. Here, the post-black, melodoom, and atmospheric black metal ingredients coalesce into a potent brew that will make you feel things you might not want. There’s an epic scope to the song that recalls the best of Primordial, but I hear a lot of vintage Votum in the vocals, and the shifts from harsh to sullen and soft are very well-conceived and executed. This is easily my favorite song so far in 2026, and I can’t stop getting lost in the moods here. The production is quite good, but there’s a weird background static-hiss that leaks through at times, most noticeably on “My Tomb Beneath the Tide.” It’s a bit distracting, and I hoped it was just on the video, but it’s on the promo copy as well, which is unfortunate.

The vocal combination of Andy Ennis and Anaïs Chareyre pays major dividends across In Perfect Stillness. Ennis has a convincingly dour singing voice that conveys grief and despair, and his blackened rasps are equally powerful. When he leans more toward death roars, he reminds me a bit of Nick Holmes of Paradise Lost. The guitar work by Nathan Irvine and Bryn Boothby sets the dark, dreary tableau perfectly. The frantic, post-y trems and the savage blackened riffage deliver real impact, and their morose doom noodling and trilling captivate the ear. This is an ensemble that knows how to toy with the listener’s heart and mind, and over the too-short runtime, they have their way with you emotionally again and again.

Domhain have a great thing going here, and though it isn’t something entirely new, they stamp it with enough identity to make it their own. In Perfect Stillness is a short, sharp shock to the part of the brain that deals with feelings, and there’s a genuine, raw beauty to their music that sticks with you long after you step away. It’s the rare album I wish were longer, and I actually don’t want it to end when it does. That’s a sure sign that a band created something special. Hear this sooner rather than later, as it will make waves.



Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: These Hands Melt
Websites: domhain-band.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/domhain.band | instagram.com/domhain_band
Releases Worldwide: February 20, 2026

Sounds a little bit thin at the moment, but as soon as the bass goes in, this is going to sound enormous!

There's going to be plenty of vocal layering. Big ethereal sounding vocals.

It's going to be insane.

#Musician #Metal #MetalHead #IrishMetal #IrishMusic #Irish #Mastodaoine

Atlantic – Timeworn [Things You Might Have Missed 2025]

By ClarkKent

The picture I have in my head of Ireland is an isolated, yet calming, place by the sea. Callan Hoy, from the western coastal town of Galway, further cements this image on the debut record of his atmospheric post-black project, Atlantic. It’s apparent that the setting is important to Timeworn, as crashing waves not only begin and end the album, but they make frequent appearances throughout. This gives the feeling that Hoy recorded Timeworn right along the shores of the Atlantic Ocean. A calm pervades despite the energetic black metal on display, making Atlantic a pleasing melodic journey you’ll want to play on repeat.

Atlantic alternates between atmospheric post-black metal and a much more poppy-style of black rock. The three longer tracks hue more towards the atmospheric (“Weathered,” “Underside,” “Spirit Trails”), but rather than atmoblack of the depressive variety, this is more of an uplifting form. Hoy’s guitar tones ooze feel-good vibes along the lines of Countless Skies, but with plenty of blackened reverb. These lengthier songs have a lot in common with the black metal of Starer and the black/shoegaze of Deafheaven. On the other end are the shorter tracks (“Timeworn,” “Voyages”), which sound almost like pop/rock songs, only with heavy reverb and dark growls. There’s a feeling of joy in the instrumentation that takes me back to Torche’s Harmonicraft. The drums by Milan Jejina bring out the pop with simple yet powerful beats that’ll get you bopping along. The combo of kitwork and catchy riffs make “Voyages” one of the most memorable tunes of the year.

There’s something about all of the performances that make Timeworn so pleasing to listen to. Hoy makes heavy use of tremolos to keep up a feeling of constant kinetic motion. The jubilant tone of the tremolos is pleasant enough, but the way Hoy blends melodies with the atmospherics elevates the music. The melodic elements also make the lengthier passages on songs like “Spirit Trails” work—they keep you engaged for every second. Hoy’s vocal performance is also nothing to sneeze at. His growls are guttural rather than the piercing screamo style of some shoegaze, and he has a surprisingly melodic cadence that helps fill up every second with satisfying, catchy sounds. Atlantic features very little cleans, but they do complement the growls on “Underside” and reveal just how versatile an artist Hoy is.

Timeworn is an impressive achievement, the mark of a young talent with strong songwriting clout. While most of the songs pass the seven-minute mark, they never meander or feel boring. Hoy mixes in the shorter, poppier tracks to create a varied and powerful listening experience. Atlantic blew me away when it crept into my Bandcamp feed back in April. Hoy has created something special that I think even those who don’t love atmospheric or post-black metal can appreciate. Given that it’s just a bite-sized 34 minutes, there’s no reason not to give it a spin—and then another as it calls to you like a siren luring unwitting sailors into the sea. But don’t worry, there’s no danger here, just some pleasant earworms.

Tracks to Check Out: “Underside,” “Voyages,” “Spirit Trails”

#2025 #Atlantic #AtmosphericBlackMetal #BlackMetal #CountlessSkies #Deafheaven #FiadhProductions #IrishMetal #PostBlackMetal #PostMetal #Starer #ThingsYouMightHaveMissed2025 #Timeworn #Torche #TYMHM

Machina Kore – Ghosts of Everest Review

By Kenstrosity

Identified as “Groovy Power Metal” in our promo bin, Irish independents Machina Kore promise something that pushes past genre convention while still delivering high-octane, high-quality steel. With their latest release, entitled Ghosts of Everest, Machina Kore offer up ten tracks (two of which are remasters of earlier single releases) across roughly an hour—fairly standard if we use power metal as a baseline. Thematically, Ghosts of Everest tackle an emotional subject matter largely surrounding the highs and lows of life as brought on by both forces beyond control and our own actions/reactions, and of resilience and growth only ever manifested by perseverance. The question remains, would a release like Ghosts of Everest persevere in the midst of a crowded field of steely wares?

One thing is for certain: Machina Kore is not your standard power metal record, and claims of groove earn more than their keep. In fact, Ghosts of Everest is more groove than power, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing. The power of riffs is strong with this one, bolstered further by uncharacteristically meaty guitar and bass tones which approach death metal or sludge in crunch and heft. However, song structure and arrangement more closely follow the blueprint of riffy power metal innovated by Nevermore, after a lurid dalliance with alternative names like Sevendust1 and Nonpoint. A sense of grandeur not unlike Borealis runs through many of these numbers as well, contributing to the 5-7 minute average song length and winding choruses. Altogether, the experience is an unusual mix that took some getting used to, but there’s merit to Machina Kore’s execution here that proves Ghosts of Everest’s concept holds water.

Ghosts of Everest offers many cool moments, often separated by wide swaths of material that range from decently engaging to meandering. Its first three songs proper (excluding the overlong, but gentle into “Silver”) offer the best encapsulation of Machina Kore’s sound when it works best. Swaggering grooves, tectonic riffs, and serviceable choruses allow these tracks to strike while the iron is hot, impressing upon its audience its unorthodox sound and generous helping of crushing guitars. And while those heavily distorted guitars shine throughout, it’s not until the meat of the record that they make their biggest impact. A massive one-two punch, “Goliath” and “Death Mask” offer energetic grooves, thunderous tones, and dynamic shifts in style and structure. Nonetheless, they feel unified with the material surrounding them, which allows for smooth transitions in and out. In a different way, epic closer “Ghosts of Everest” makes a mark as well; this time, striking use of melody cooperates with the album’s finest vocal display to exit on a powerful note capable of selling listeners on a follow-up spin.

Unfortunately, those aforementioned swaths of meandering material conspire to unravel immersion and redirect to boredom. Every song preceding “Goliath”—and several afterwards—opens with at least a minute and a half of repetitive jamming. While they do a great job of creating an initial burst of momentum, inertia gets the best of them quickly, coming close to a standstill before finally hitting the gas again. This problem persists in bouts across Ghosts of Everest, with wandering numbers “Alpha Luna” and “Breathe” offering some decent to very good ideas every now and then, only to be undone by long stretches of composition unsure of its direction or purpose. The occasional guitar solo alleviates this problem to some degree, in concert with some clever drumming (this is primarily what helps “Death Mask” stand out, in fact). Alas, it’s not quite enough to carry 6 minutes plus of uninspired material. As a final note, the albeit competent post-grunge vocals aren’t always the best fit for this sound (“Stone to Farewell”), with the one caveat that they often inspire a fair measure of nostalgia (“Sober”).

All that said, Machina Kore has a ton of potential, and it wouldn’t be too difficult for them to realize it. Their biggest hurdle going forward is one of writing and of editing, wherein songs need tightening, streamlining, and focusing. All of the right elements are there, from tone to riffcraft to the unlikely melding of disparate styles. They just don’t quite gel into a final product that feels greater than the sum of its parts yet. With time and a little perseverance, I’ve no doubt that Machina Kore can bring me to the peak next time around.

Rating: Mixed
DR: N/A | Format Reviewed: STREAM 2
Label: Self-Release
Websites: machinakore.bandcamp.com/album/ghosts-of-everest | facebook.com/MachinaKore
Releases Worldwide: July 25th, 2025

#25 #2025 #AlternativeMetal #Borealis #GhostsOfEverest #GrooveMetal #HeavyMetal #IrishMetal #Jul25 #MachinaKore #Nevermore #Nonpoint #PowerMetal #Review #Reviews #SelfRelease #Sevendust

Stuck in the Filter: February 2025’s Angry Misses

By Kenstrosity

February comes down the pipe about two or three months after February. A perfectly normal thing to experience here at AMG HQ, this Filter’s tardiness is brought to you in part by my body getting stuck in one of the tighter conduits that lines the concrete interior of this confounded bunker. My minions are elsewhere, trudging through similar environs, and report their findings to me via eldritch beast telepathy. Since I obviously don’t speak eldritch tongue, I have to use my Codex of Enspongification to decipher these antediluvian transmissions. I’m sure you can imagine, that takes no small measure of time, especially when you’re stuck in this galvanized prison of rusting sheetmetal.

Until my ungrateful minions can find me and rescue me—something I don’t expect to happen anytime soon considering I give them no workers benefits or pay of any kind—you’ll have to make do with the selections of rough-hewn and sharp, but valuable, ore provided below. OBSERVE AT YOUR OWN RISK!

Kenstrosity’s Crusty Grab

Metaphobic // Deranged Excruciations [February 28th, 2025 – Everlasting Spew Records]

When Atlantan death metal quintet Metaphobic caught my attention with the megalithic riffs opening their debut LP Deranged Excruciations, I thought the stank face it brought out of me might be permanent. Nothing new and nothing sophisticated awaits here. Just brutalizing riffs delivered in a relentless sequence of destruction. Lead guitars squeal and scrape against the swampy ground underfoot, leaving a noxious slime trail behind “Mental Deconstruction” and “Execration” that tastes of Tomb Mold, Incantation, and Demilich to varying degrees. Guttural utterances and cacophonic—but accessibly structured—riffs offer the same infernal ferocity of the olden ways. However, in a similar manner to Noxis, their application here feels modern and fresh-ish (“Execration,” “Veiled Horizons,” “Hypnosis Engram”). Not nearly as nuanced as that comparison might suggest, Metaphobic are more than satisfied to use their brutish death metal as a cudgel for blunt force trauma. Nods to death doom in long-form wanderings like “Disciples of Vengeance” and “Insatiable Abyss” provide an appreciable variation in pace, though it doesn’t always work in Metaphobic’s favor. While those songs tend to meander too long on ideas unfit to support such mass for so long, livid outbursts like “Veiled Horizons” and “Reconstituted Grey Matter” more than make up for it. In short Deranged Excruciations commands my attention enough to earn my recommendation here, and my attention going forward.

Tyme’s Missing Minutes

Caustic Phlegm // Purulent Apocalypse [February 28, 2025 – Hells Headbangers]

Caustic Phlegm is the filth project helmed solely by Chestcrush main man Evan Vasilakos, who joyously employed his HM-2 and RAT pedals to create the utter disgustingness that is Purulent Apocalypse. A far cry from the angsty, I’d-rather-see-humanity-dead blackened death metal of his main outfit, Caustic Phlegm is a throwback to the days when Carnage walked the streets of Sweden and Impetigo was melting faces and killing brain cells. Purulent Apocalypse is a platter of pestiferous riffs (“Fouled, Infected & Infested,” “Soft Bones,” “Blister Bliss”), so many it’s like sitting on a death metal toilet puking and shitting riffs ad nauseam. Evan’s drum work, replete with the occasional but very satisfying St. Anger snare tone, drives the mindless fun forward, and the 80’s zombie giallo synth work would have Lucio Fulci himself clawing out of his grave to eat your face. Vasilakos’ vocals are a fine litany of belches, squelches, and gurgles that sound like a colony of maggots cleaning the putrid flesh from a corpulent corpse. Caustic Phlegm is the foul stench of death and will have you reaching for the soap and steel wool as you try to rid yourself of the Purulent Apocalypse infection.

Vermilia // Karsikko [February 14, 2025 – Self Release]

Had the incomparable Darkher not released The Buried Storm in 2022, Vermilia‘s Ruska would have garnered my top spot that year, which put her on my radar for the first time. When I saw Vermilia‘s follow-up, Karsikko had dropped in February—sadly we didn’t receive a promo—I jumped at the chance to filter it. While Karsikko is a bit more straightforward than Ruska, it’s full of liltingly beautiful pianos (“Karsikko”) that give way to icy black metal riffs (“Kansojen Kaipuu”) and gorgeously rendered folk metal melodies (“Koti,” “Veresi”). Comparisons with Myrkur and Suldusk would be appropriate, but Vermilia continues to carve out her own space in the folk black metal scene, marrying beatific melody with beastly aggression. Performing all of the music on Karsikko, as is her one-woman calling card, renders her finished products even more impressive. The highlight has always been the voice, though, as Vermilia deftly transitions between angelic cleans (“Suruhymni”) and frosty rasps (“Vakat”), completing a circle that makes each of her releases a joy to listen to. It’s confounding that another of Vermilia‘s albums is an independent release, which might be artistically intentional or the result of bone-headed label execs. Either way, don’t miss out on Karsikko, as Vermilia shouldn’t stay unsigned for long.

Killjoy’s Drowsy Discovery

Noctambulist // Noctambulist II: De Droom [February 7th, 2025 – These Hands Melt]

Although I love blackgaze, I must admit that it can be challenging to find artists who stand out in the genre, whether through quality songwriting or unexpected twists. It turns out that the Dutch band Noctambulist1 offers both. Noctambulist II: De Droom is a fun and fresh blend of Deafheaven-adjacent blackgaze with a Molotov cocktail of post-punk energy. The power chord-driven guitar lines prove to be an unexpectedly compatible fuel source to propel the shimmering, gazey tremolos and blackened rasps to new heights. Many songs (particularly “Aderlater” and “Lichteter”) start with neat intro melodies that catch the listener’s attention, then build and ride that momentum throughout the remainder. A faint sense of loss—stemming from the achingly relatable theme of homeownership drifting further out of many people’s reach—pervades the record, but there is also an infectious cheerfulness. Despite their name, Noctambulist are hardly sleepwalking as they tread along a well-worn genre.

Thus Spoke’s Disregarded Diamonds

Sacred Noose // Vanishing Spires [February 2nd, 2025 – Breath Sun Bone Blood]

My experience with Irish extreme metal has been that it is all incredibly dark, twisted, and supremely, gorgeously dissonant.2 Belfast3 duo Sacred Noose make absolutely no exception to this rule. Vanishing Spires’ ruthlessly brief 31 minutes are defined by stomach-tightening twisted blackened death designed to cut to the heart of misery and fear. The lurching sensation brought about by rapid tremolo descents and sudden accelerations of ever more dissonant chords, impenetrable drums, and pitch-shifting feedback is nauseating (“Entranced by Concrete Lathe,” “True Emancipation”). The pure horror of the inhuman, high-pitched shrieks answering the already fearsome bellows is anxiety-inducing (“”Black Tempests of Promise,” “Moribund”). The near-constant buzzing of noise is oppressive (“Terminal Prologue,” “True Emancipation”); the creeping, malevolent scales unnerving. And Sacred Noose play with their victim, luring them into a trap of deceptively familiar cavern-core (“Sacred Noose”) before throwing a hood over their head and yanking them backwards into more horrifying mania; or perhaps they’ll start with the assault (“True Emancipation”). This more ‘straightforward’ edge to Sacred Noose is most akin to a faster Sparagmos, while their dominant, demonic personality I can compare most faithfully to Thantifaxath, if Thantifaxath were more death-metal-inclined. Vanishing Spires is the first time since the latter’s 2023 Hive Mind Narcosis that a record has genuinely made me feel afraid.

Crown of Madness // Memories Fragmented [February 28th, 2025 – Transcending Obscurity Records]

Life unfortunately got in the way of me giving this a proper review, but Crown of Madness deserve better than to slip by unmentioned. Memories Fragmented is the duo’s debut, but Crown of Madness is one of several projects both are already in.4. The ominous yet colourful sci-fi/fantasy cover art and spiky logo scream ‘tech-death’ and that is indeed what Crown of Madness deliver. At base, there is some damn fine technical death metal here that’s impressive and acrobatic (), but snappy, not outstaying its welcome—the entire record barely stretches beyond 35 minutes. But there is more to Memories Fragmented, and as a result, it is memorable.5 A drawl to certain refrains (), the tendency to gently sway to a slow, near-pensiveness (), the atmospheric hanging of some tremolos over a warm, dense bass (). There is depth. And it reminded me quite starkly of early Ulcerate. In this vein, the record leans towards the more meandering side of the subgenre, gripping not with hooky riffs and heart-pumping tempos, but an intricate kind of intensity. Memories Fragmented arguably goes too far in the indistinct direction, and as a result, loses immediacy. But the churning, introspective compositions presage the potential for true brilliance on future releases.

Vacuous // In His Blood [February 28th, 2025 – Relapse Records]

Full of youthful vigour, London’s Vacuous demonstrate their willing ability to evolve with their sophomore, In His Blood. While debut Dreams of Dysphoria, which I covered back in 2022, played more or less by the disso-death book, here they are already experimenting. Strange, almost post-metal atmosphere now haunts the boundaries (“Hunger,” “Public Humiliation,” “No Longer Human”), combining brilliantly with the band’s already cavernous death metal sound, and amplifying its fearsomeness. Crowning example of this is the gem Vacuous save for the record’s final act in closer “No Longer Human.” In His Blood also sees them flirt with a punkier energy that borrows more than a little bit of malice from the blackened handbook (“In His Blood,” “Flesh Parade”), backed up by d-beats, and contrasting well with their now less frequent crawls. At its most explosive, In His Blood feels downright unhinged, in the best way (“Stress Positions,” “Immersion”), but it never feels messy, and there’s potential in here for Vacuous to evolve into yet another, incredibly potent form of unique, modern hybrid extreme metal. I wish there were more than 30 minutes of this.

Dolphin Whisperer’s Bottom o’ the Barrel Boons

Pissgrave // Malignant Worthlessness [February 21st, 2025 – Profound Lore Records]

Though it may appear, at a glance, that I have gold-colored glasses for bands of rank and urological reference, I’d call it more of a chance happening that such miscreant acts have created intriguing works. And, truthfully, PISSGRAVE has leaned closer to filth first, function second with the war-leaning crackle (and brazenly offensive cover art) that relegates their lineage to corners of listening ears who need therapy with a high tolerance for guts and grime. Malignant Worthlessness, of course, is not accessible by any means, though, despite these Philly boys packing these nine ode to a failed society in a package that doesn’t cause immediate squirm. But with grooves trapped in an endless skronk and blast, and vocals shifted and layered to reflect the sound of a swarm of Daffy Ducks with a serious disdain for life, PISSGRAVE still embodies an endless swirl of unleashed aggression rendered in riffed and regurgitated form. Malignant Worthlessness lives on the dry and crispy side with most of its tones, which allows copious hits of quick delay and reverb on OUGHs and EEEEEEEUGHs to land with an extra psychedelic knocking when you least expect it. Little slows down the pain train here, with tracks like “Heaping Pile of Electrified Gore” and “Internment Orgy” taking brief detours into chunky guitar builds that feel within grasp of normalcy just before dropping back into an intensified flaying. Elsewhere, a martial urgency that reminds of Paracletus-era Deathspell Omega or the industrial-tinged pummel of Concrete Winds, stirs a twitching movement response, all while retaining a grinding death snarl and chromatic fury, leading its fused-by-hatred structures toward an explosive and fuming conclusion. Humanity has no place in the PISSGRAVE environs, and Malignant Worthlessness, in its celebration of a hostile world, does everything it can to reinforce that.

終末回路 // 終端から引き剥がす [February 20th, 2025 – Self Release]

For things that wander around the math rock world, nailing a vibe remains essential to enjoyment. It’s all too easy in this day and edge to fall into the comfortable trap of ambient tapping and comfortable posty swirls to pleasant crescendos that renders many modern acts to high brow background music (even including bands I like, to a degree, like Covet or Jizue). New Japanese act 終末回路,6 however, chooses to imbue their nimble and tricky instrumental center with the searing emotion and urgency of a noisy post-hardcore, with searing vocal inclusions adding a gravitas to passages that would otherwise threaten to flutter away in glee (“誤殖,” “知らねぇよ”). On one end, 終末回路 delivers a bright playfulness that swings with the pedal power and psychedelia of a young Tera Melos. Yet, weighted with a punk urgency and rawer Japanese assembly of tones, which give a physical clang to tight kit heads and blazing squeal to shrill loops and feedback, 終末回路 finds a constant momentum in their shorter form excursion that makes my lack of understanding of its introspective lyrics a non-issue. Packing plaintive piano melodies (“ご自由に “), speaker blowing synth cranking (“dgdf++be”), and prog-tinged guitar flutters (“知らねぇよ”) into one listening session isn’t easy, but with this debut outing of 終端から引き剥がす,7 終末回路 makes it seem as if they’ve been honing the craft for years.

Saunders’ Salacious Skeeves

Möuth // Gobal Warning [February 14th, 2025 – Self Release)

Veteran rockers The Hellacopters returned with a typically rollicking, fun album in February. Elsewhere, dropping with little fanfare, fellow Swedes and unsung power trio Möuth emerged with an intriguing debut rock platter, entitled Global Warning. Featuring more than meets the eye and flashing a dynamic rock sound, Möuth embrace both retro and modern influences, whipped into an infectious concoction of styles, ranging from Sabbathian lurches, doomy grooves, stoner vibes, and elements of psych, punk and hard rock. For the most part it works a treat, creating a welcome change of pace. Fuzzy, upbeat rockers (“Dirt,” “Appetite”) snugly reside amongst moody, psych-bending numbers (“Alike,” “Mantra”), and heavier doom-laden rock, such as powerful opener “Holy Ground,” and brooding, emotive album centerpiece, “Sheep.” Vocally, the passionate, Ozzy-esque croons hit the spot, matching up well to the band’s multi-pronged rock flavors. Compact and infectious, varied in delivery and featuring enough tasty rhythms, fuzzy melodies and rock punch to satisfy, Global Warning marks an intriguing starting point for these Swedish rockers.

Chaos Inception // Vengeance Evangel [February 21st, 2025 – Lavadome Productions]

Emerging from a deep slumber in the depths of the underground, Alabama’s long dormant death metal crew Chaos Inception returned with their first album since 2012’s The Abrogation. Third album Vengeance Evangel went under the radar, festering unclaimed in the promo sump. After the fact, the album’s crushing, controlled chaos smacked me upside the skull with a violent modern interpretation of the classic Floridian death metal sound, with the musty hues of Tucker-era Morbid Angel most prevalent. This is blast-riddled, relentless stuff, played expertly by the trio of Matt Barnes (guitars), Gray White (vocals) and session drummer Kevin Paradis (ex-Benighted). Incredibly dense, atmospheric, and blazingly fast, Vengeance Evangel is a brutal, knotty, technical hammering, punctuated by sick, wildly inventive soloing. While not traditionally catchy, Vengeance Evangel is the kind of intense, layered death metal album that gets under the skin, grafting a deeper impression across repeated listens. The insane tempo shifts, jigsaw arrangements, and wickedly deranged axework delivers big time. From the violent, intricate throes of opener “Artillery of Humwawa,” and disturbed soundscapes of “La Niebla en el Cementerio Etrusco,” through to the brutish grooves of ‘Thymos Beast,” and exotic, tech death shards of “Empire of Prevarication,” Vengeance Evangel does not neatly fit into any one subgenre category but ticks many boxes to cast a wide appeal to death fans of varied equations.

Steel Druhm’s Viscous Biscuits

Ereb Altor // Hälsingemörker [ February 7th, 2025 – Hammerheart Records]

Steel loves his epic metal. I was raised on the stirring odes to swordsmanship and ungovernable back hair from Manowar and Cirth Ungol, and in time, I took a place at the great table in Wotan’s Golden Halls to appreciate the Viking metal exploits of Bathory and later adherents like Falkenbach and Moonsorrow. Sweden’s Ereb Altor got in the game late with their epic By Honour debut in 2008, boasting a very Bathory-esque sound and emotional tapestry that felt larger-than-life and stirred the loins to begird themselves. 10th album Hälsingemörker is a glorious return to those halls of heroes and bravery. This is the large-scale songcraft first heard on Bathory albums like Hammerheart and Twilight of the Gods, and it’s most welcome to these ape ears. Cuts like “Valkyrian Fate” are exactly the kind of sweeping, epic numbers the band’s excelled at over the years. It takes the core sound of Viking era Bathory and builds outward to craft bombastic and heroic compositions that feel HUUUGE. It’s the kind of metal song that embiggens the soul and makes you want to take on a marauding horde by your lonesome and usurp all their battle booty. On “Hälsingemörker,” you get a fat dose of Moonsorrow worship, and elsewhere, Primordial is strongly referenced to very good effect. Hälsingemörker is easily the best Ereb Altor album in a while and the most in line with their beloved early sound. Strap on the sword and get after it!

#AmericanMetal #Arboreal #Benighted #BlackMetal #BlackSabbath #Blackgaze #BreathSunBoneBlood #Carnage #CausticPhlegm #ChaosInception #Chestcrush #ConcreteWinds #Coscradh #Covet #CrownOfMadness #Darkher #Deafheaven #DeathDoom #DeathMetal #DeathspellOmega #Demilich #DerangedExcruciations #DissonantDeathMetal #DustAge #EmbodimentOfDeath #ErebAltor #EverlastingSpewRecords #FolkMetal #GlobalWarning #Hälsingemörker #HellsHeadbangers #Impetigo #InHisBlood #Incantation #IrishMetal #JapaneseMetal #jizue #Karsikko #LavadomeProductions #MalignantWorthlessness #MathRock #MelodicBlackMetal #MemoriesFragmented #Metaphobic #MorbidAngel #Möuth #Myserion #Noctambulist #NoctambulistIIDeDroom #Noxis #OzzyOsbourne #Pissgrave #PostMetal #postPunk #ProfoundLoreRecords #PurulentApocalypse #RelapseRecords #Rock #SacredNoose #SelfRelease #SelfReleased #SermonOfFlames #Sparagmos #SwedishMetal #TechnicalDeathMetal #TerZiele #TeraMelos #Thantifaxath #TheHelicopters #TheseHandsMelt #TombMold #TranscendingObscurityRecords #UKMetal #Ulcerate #Vacuous #VanishingSpires #VengeanceEvangel #Vermilia #VultureSVengeance #終末回路 #終端から引き剥がす

Sonus Mortis – Synapse the Hivemind Review

By Grymm

Ever since I was awoken by the editorial staff here rap-tap-tapping on my coffin lid earlier this year, I’ve been 3 for 3 in terms of albums by one-person bands. Completing the hat trick this time around is Sonus Mortis, a prolific death/doom act navigated by one Kevin Byrne, who was originally the bassist for Irish upstarts Valediction before splitting off on his own. His eighth album in 12 years,1 Synapse the Hivemind sees Byrne tackling personal privacy in a world that’s continuously being overrun by A.I. and the all-seeing eye of the camera. But what interested me was that, despite the output, I’d never heard of Sonus Mortis before, or his claims that Byrne’s band is a mix of death/doom with symphonic black metal elements. So what does that even sound like, both on a musical and conceptual level?

Melodeath. It sounds like melodeath. Mind you, that’s not a bad thing at all, especially considering that it sounds a great deal like Andy Gillion-era Mors Principium Est in many ways, right down to the incredible guitar and keyboard leads that Byrne lays down throughout the album. His screams also recall Matt Moss of the dormant-but-much-missed Slugdge, hissing about drones (“Eyes in the Sky”) and the modern working wage (the title track) with venomous intent. Byrne’s got the musical chops to carry his vision to fruition, raging against literal machines and reigniting the passion to win one’s humanity back against technological oligarchies and the need for systemic control.

I just wish the same could be said for the songwriting. One of the complaints I have against modern melodeath rests in the fact that if you’ve heard one song on an average melodeath album, you’ve pretty much heard the whole damn thing. Sadly, it applies here, as Synapse suffers from the songs almost using identical tempos, motifs, and patterns from each other. Listening to the whole album in one sitting just feels like a well-practiced and impressively-performed blur of leads and atmosphere, making it hard to differentiate from one song to the next without making a lasting impact. Due to this familiarity and extreme deja vu, 50% of the album’s problems exist here.

The other 50% rests in Byrne’s singing voice, which can best be described as an acquired taste. His screams and growls are on-point, and get the blood pumping just right. His cleans, however, do not fit the music at all, either trying for James Hetfield-esque melodrama, complete with Hetfield’s “YEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAH!!!” inflections that pull me out of the game entirely (opener “Biomechanical Horrors”), or aiming to dethrone Mikael Stanne’s haunting croons but whiffing it (the title track and “The Perfect Host”)2 they act as a stark reminder that if you can’t perform a certain way, you can always seek help from the outside. There’s no shame in doing so.

One final bit of advice, and I experienced this personally all-too-recently: the grind mindset. I respect the hustle, I really do. Eight albums in twelve years sounds impressive (and it is), but the factory-like churning of albums causes a negative impact on your art. Slow it down a bit, take time away from what you’re working on (if you can manage), and let your piece breathe a bit. Assess what can be added. What can be taken away? What can be improved upon? Because all these things will benefit not only your music, but you personally. Because while Synapse the Hivemind has some cool ideas and amazing musicianship trapped behind okayish songwriting, I know Byrne and Sonus Mortis are capable of much, much more.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 192 kbps mp3
Label: Unsigned/Independent
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: March 27th, 2025

#25 #2025 #IndependentUnsigned #IrishMetal #Mar25 #MelodicDeathMetal #MorsPrincipiumEst #Review #Reviews #Slugdge #SonusMortis #SynapseTheHivemind #Valediction

Fós – Níl mo chroí in aon rud Review

By Carcharodon

When I reviewed Irish duo Fós’ last outing, Rinne mé iarraidh (which translates as “I Tried”), back in 2020, I wanted to be spellbound. And I was, in parts. Combining traditional Irish folk sean-nós singing (courtesy of Orla Cadden Patel) with the drone, electronica and the vaguely post-metal stylings of multi-instrumentalist and main songwriter Fionn Murray, it had a deeply emotional core. It was also rare in offering something genuinely unique. At the same time, the duo were finding their voice on that record, and it showed. Cadden Patel’s voice was stunning but, at times, rather than coalescing with the music, the two felt discordant and disjointed, while the music itself was rarely memorable. Four years later, with a record deal and a new singer—Susan ní Cholmáin—Fós are back with Níl mo chroí in aon rud.1 The band say that this record places a greater emphasis on riffs and song structure, as well as bringing more densely layered arrangements. Can this deliver the spellbinding experience I so wanted from this band?

From the first notes of intro “Déistin,” with pulsing electronica and deep, thrumming guitars, it’s clear that Níl mo chroí in aon rud is going to be a different record from its predecessor. And so it proves. Fós has focused not just on song structure but also album structure this time, with an overall flow to the music that strives to match the rise and fall of ní Cholmáin’s voice, which soars and dips and twists. Deftly combining everything from post-doom (“Bádaí na Scadán”) and rumbling drone-adjacent noise (“Táim i mo shuí”) to stripped-back neo-folk (“Molly na gCuach Ní Chuilleanáin”), Níl mo chroí in aon rud is a far more accomplished record than Rinne mé iarraidh. This sense is helped by the fact that ní Cholmáin’s voice is ever so slightly deeper and less ethereal (though no less beautiful) than her predecessor’s. Imbued with a rich silkiness, it somehow blends better with the music than Cadden Patel’s did.

The objective Fós set itself of blending traditional Irish folk singing, with a diverse array of almost-metal styles, was no small task. Yet it is one they have come close to achieving on Níl mo chroí in aon rud. Despite the heavy use of throbbing electronica and thudding percussion, there is a somber beauty and resonance to much of the material here, that leaves me with a deep sense of longing and loss after each spin. The album makes use of interludes (“Trua” and “Maolaitheach”), in addition to the intro, something I am not usually a fan of. However, in situ, these feel both integral and necessary to the album, with “Maolaitheach” bridging well from the fire-and-shadow neofolk tones of album highlight “Molly na gCuach Ní Chuilleanáin” to the bright, buzzing edges of album closer “An Mhaighdean Mhara.”

The change in singer, coupled with much more focused songwriting, has done wonders for Fós. Where Rinne mé iarraidh meandered, Níl mo chroí in aon rud feels focused and purposeful. Still tight at only 37 minutes, the clearer structures feel as though they were written with the vocals in mind, rather than simply acting as a sonic backdrop to them. That said, not everything works, with the first half of “Slán le Maigh” feeling aimless. Still, as the rumbling, distended chords give way to brighter synth work, which recalls Unreqvited in places, Fós recapture the magic they conjure elsewhere. Similarly, the down-tuned groove that dominates the first third of “Bádaí na Scadán” is a somehow jarring way to kick off the first song proper but they settle into their rhythm and these are really the only musical missteps on the album. Were the production better, Níl mo chroí in aon rud could have threatened the score safety counter. Although undoubtedly a step up from the last outing, feeling denser and more textured than the last album, the mix is off. The drums, in particular, are too far forward and feel over-defined, threatening to swallow the vocals in the record’s heavier moments (back end of “Bádaí na Scadán,” for example).

When I saw that Fós was back with a new album, I was genuinely pleased. Despite having dolled out a meager 2.5 last time, I found them genuinely interesting and packed with potential. After nearly four years, I assumed that was last we would hear of them. The fact that Níl mo chroí in aon rud not only arrived but delivered on the promise is fantastic. Fós have done exactly what I hoped they would, better blending the music with the haunting, poignant vocals (even if delivered by a new singer) and I hope we get more soon. Please don’t let Murray do the cover design again. I’m begging you.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Fiadh Productions
Websites: fosmetal.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/fosmetal
Releases Worldwide: January 27th, 2025

#2025 #35 #AmbientMetal #DoomMetal #Drone #Electronica #FiadhProductions #Fol #Fós #IrishMetal #Jan25 #NeoFolk #NílMoChroíInAonRud #Noise #PostMetal #Review #Reviews #Unreqvited