Way back in the year before the Great Plague, I took a chance and reviewed an unheralded, self-released album by a one-man band from Belgium called Ethereal Darkness. We received the promo from the AMG contact forms without fanfare or fluff, but what I heard on Smoke and Shadows really impressed me. Project mastermind Lars created a monumental slab of melancholic, melodic doom in the vein of Insomnium, Rapture, and Before the Dawn, and the material had depth, power, and gravitas. It seemed like the work of a seasoned and polished group of musicians despite some rough edges. The years have drifted by since that review, and I’d all but given up Ethereal Darkness for dead. Imagine my surprise when Lars reached out recently to alert me to the pending release of his second album, Echoes. 6 years on, the solo project is now a full-fledged band ready to tour in support of their latest release. And what a large release it is! At 60 minutes, Echoes takes the style from the debut and goes way bigger, with much longer compositions and greater ambition in the writing. If that’s not big enough, it also features cover art from Adam Burke and a production from Dan “The Fücking Man” Swanö!1 Is bigger better in this case? Can more really be MOAR? And how are these guys still unsigned?? These are the questions of our time.

It takes ample ballsack to open with a nearly 11-minute song, but Ethereal Darkness do just that with “Gone With the Tide.” If the atmosphere on Smoke and Shadows impressed you, this will knock you into the next multiverse. It’s an epic, sweeping tableau of massive melodoom that holds nothing back as it transports you to majestic forests and towering mountains of snow and ice. It recalls the best works of Be’lakor and Black Sun Aeon, but there’s plenty of Insomnium in the DNA too. The guitarwork is phenomenal, full of sadboi trilling and doomy weight. The death vocals by Lars are very effective, the clean singing by acoustic guitarist Brecht hits the right way, and the lapses into blastbeating blackness are well-timed adrenaline spikes. This is a stupendous song and one of the best so far this year, and it goes by in a flash despite its girth. “The Cycle” continues to maintain the sky-high quality. It’s like a crazy mash-up of Eneferens and modern Amorphis, and you should pay big money for such a potent potable. It’s the kind of song you get lost in and lose track of time, and when you write songs in the 8-10 minute window, this is essential.

Elsewhere, “Winter” moves toward more blackened environs, channeling Saor and Nechochwen as epic soundscapes are raised and explored. The guitars here are beautifully rendered, and it’s another triumph for this unheralded project. Equally monolithic is “On the Edge of the Cliff,” where the music turns more aggressive and urgent, merging black and melodeath idioms adroitly for maximum impact. There’s an epic Viking metal energy here that makes you want to conquer and rule the weak, and it feels dangerously powerful. Despite so much magnificent opulence and aural decadence, there are some weaker moments. “IV” is very, very good and hints at my beloved Rapture, but it ends up feeling too long at 9:45, and trimming it by a few minutes would have helped. Ginormous closer “Realization” runs over 13 minutes, and despite good to great moments throughout, it’s undone by its sheer width and breadth. In its final minutes, I find it increasingly difficult to stay locked in and attentive. At just over 60 minutes, Echoes can be a daunting listen due to its density and length, but the reward is well worth the effort. I can’t find fault with the Swanö-ified production, as everything sounds lush, gorgeous, and heavy without being loud or oppressive.

Lars handles guitar, bass, keyboards, and harsh vocals, and to say he did an amazing job across the board doesn’t begin to cover it. There are some big, emotional moments here courtesy of his 6-string heroics, referencing the works of Tuomas Saukkonen without imitating. His deep death roars punctuate the music with force, and his blackened cackles and screams pierce through like lasers. His restrained use of keyboards should be a case study for other acts in the genre. They add atmosphere but rarely rise out of the distant background. Becht provides soothing acoustic guitar passages and clean vocals that deliver pathos and emotion. Peter’s drumming is a vast improvement over the programmed percussion from the debut, imbuing the material with vibrancy and weight. Applause all around for this crew!

Echoes is a bigger, better album than Smoke and Shadows in every way, with several tracks worthy of Song o’ the Year consideration. The album length and the bloat on a few tracks hold it back from even greater heights, but just barely. This is a sumptuous feast for the ears and mind, and I get the feeling I’ll be spending a lot of time with this over the next few months. Ethereal Darkness are about to get a lot more attention in the metalverse, and they deserve it. Hear this massive monster or be a lesser mortal. Somebody better sign these guys toot-sweet!



Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: NA | Format Reviewed: WAV
Label: Self-Release
Websites: etherealdarkness.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/etherealplace | instagram.com/etherealdarknessband
Releases Worldwide: March 20th, 2026

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

Sentynel

It’s been a couple of years since I had to start my AotY thoughts with “oof, what a year,” but oof, what a year. One thing after another piled up for months on end. I had some early success, actually writing reviews, but that left me almost no time to consume any other new music. A slowly escalating personal crisis then led to my neither writing nor consuming any new music for months. I began to fear that I genuinely wouldn’t be able to listen to enough to assemble a list—or that the server would implode at an inopportune time and I’d struggle to fix it. Fortunately, I was able to stay on top of server wobbles, despite the best efforts of endless AI scraper bots.1 A couple of months ago, I started managing new music again, and thus, a list emerged. I am moderately optimistic for 2026, at least on a personal level. (I offer no such optimism for the general state of the world.)

While this hasn’t been a particularly strong year for me, it’s hard to tell if that’s the year’s fault or just mine. My most common gripe has been unevenness: there have been a lot of records—including some I’ve ultimately loved—that have annoyed me through failing to sustain their heights throughout. Nonetheless, everything on my list belongs there. This year’s primary theme appears to be Angry Cello Guy, with a suspicious five entries on my list prominently featuring cellos or other bowed string instruments. Guitars are so 2024. There are multiple records here that are genre-hopping, experimental, and hard to classify. Otherwise, this is a pretty typical year for me, with post-metal heavily represented, several prog-adjacent pieces, and no surprisingly brvtal contenders, despite trying a few. Ah, well, next year.

My year has also kept me from getting to know this year’s intake of new writers as well as I’d like, but I’m sure they’re all lovely people with only somewhat questionable taste. To the brave crew of editors and promo jockeys, you have my thanks for your endless work; to the retiring veterans, please enjoy your sabbaticals without incident; and to the readers, long may you continue resisting the urge to let AI summarise our writing.

#ish. Scardust // Souls – Souls took a lot longer to grow on me than Strangers, and it’s more uneven than its predecessor. But the highs are fabulous. Noa Gruman is still preternaturally good on vocals. If the whole record were as good as the “Touch of Life” suite with her and Ross Jennings, this would be, no exaggeration, #1. Alas, while there are a couple of other bangers (“Unreachable”), much of the rest of Souls just doesn’t impress me, in that awkward sort of way you get when it’s really good and it feels unfair to moan about it too much, but you know they can do so much better.

#10. Jo Quail // Notan – Quail remains one of the most mesmerising live acts I’ve ever seen. Between the strength of her modern classical compositions and the frankly magical way she weaves them together live, armed with only a cello and a loop pedal, her shows are a must-see event. Fittingly, I saw Notan performed live before I heard the recording, but it’s worth it in recorded form too. The nature of loop pedal based composition lends itself to the sort of slow build that makes for really good post-rock/metal. Each piece goes in a pleasingly different direction and experiments with different additions to her sound palette. That she can do them live solo as well is merely the icing on the cake.

#9. Mares of Thrace // The Loss – I wrote most of a review for this album at release,2 but never quite got it over the line. I found it so raw it was hard to listen to. As my difficult period got worse, I just gave up on being able to listen to it at all, and with it any hope of finishing even a woefully late review. Where The Exile was immediately catchy and driving, The Loss’s immediacy is its anguish, and that was all I could hear. Mares of Thrace are already hard to genre pigeonhole, and The Loss is all over the place, spanning sludge, noise, prog, and doom, with trad inflections. I’m actually glad I didn’t manage to get the review done at the time. Coming back to it for list season, I appreciate it a lot more easily than I did at the time. The catchiness and driving energy are still there, but the additional stylistic variety makes it more interesting. The anguish adds weight and impact. The catharsis of the final track is well earned. It’s still a hard listen, but it’s a rewarding one. Who knows, maybe I’ll even get a TYMHM out!3

#8. Black Narcissus // There Lingers One Who’s Long Forgotten – This is just gorgeous. The best post-rock does an awful lot with very little, and Black Narcissus’ unhurried drums and bass do an absolutely astonishing amount. There’s no way something so minimalist and so languid should be able to sustain an hour of music. I cannot emphasise enough how absolutely beautiful There Lingers One Who’s Long Forgotten is, and its hour-long runtime just floats by. This is the epitome of “do one thing and do it well” as a philosophy.

#7. Fallujah // Xenotaph – Fallujah are a long time big name I had begun to appreciate more in the last couple of years, after seeing them live. They still hadn’t really clicked for me recorded, but Xenotaph changed that. Tech death’s curse is sterility, and the warmth of this record lifts Fallujah out of that trap. It’s, paradoxically, at once dreamy and bluntly impactful. The writing is as strong on melody as it is on technicality. It seems slightly redundant to say this about a record that’s on my year-end list, but I really enjoy the immediate experience of listening to Xenotaph. There’s something intensely satisfying about the smoothness: who says heavy music has to be abrasive? The production is still a sticking point, though.

#6. Concrete Age // Awaken the Gods – Awaken the Gods is just a lot of fun. There’s not enough metal drawing on the instruments and composition of folk music from the Caucasus and the steppes. It reminds me a lot of Mongol, but with better and more varied folk instrumentation. There’s a couple of songs that are a bit more straight thrash with folk instruments, which are less exciting, but it doesn’t detract from the rest of the record. It also delivers further proof of my theory that folk metal covers of terrible pop songs are the pinnacle of music. My go-to for when I wanted something to uncomplicatedly bang my head to.

#5. Calva Louise // Edge of the Abyss – Calva Louise are what happens when somebody spots an “all of the above” button under “genre” on the band creation screen and their curiosity gets the better of them. They are what you get if you take the Diablo Swing Orchestra and remove their classical instruments and sense of restraint. Something this absurd could only ever have been terrific or terrible. Obviously, this is terrific. AMG called it wild, unpredictable, and addictive, and it certainly is. They sound like nothing else I’ve ever listened to, and manage to be dangerously catchy on top of it. This hit in the middle of my difficult period, and it was nearly the only thing I listened to for a month. A teeny sense of easing off the gas on the last few songs is the only weakness. Spectacular.

#4. Völur & Cares // Breathless Spirit – Odd, unsettling, pretty, experimental, captivating—Breathless Spirit is a weird album. Violin and viola occupy the sonic space where you’d typically find lead and rhythm guitars. The composition wanders through modern classical, atmoblack, noise, jazz, folk, doom, and more. Actually, the main textural comparison I would draw here is to Hierophant Violent, though Breathless Spirit is far less single-minded in direction. Many of the more ambient sections, and some of the clean vocals, remind me of the build-up stretches of that album, and likewise, there’s some similarity in the crushing crescendos. Just in case you thought you knew where this was going, the other comparisons I’m going to draw are to fellow Canadians The Night Watch and Thrawsunblat. Of everything on the list, this is the one at highest risk of me feeling like I placed it too low in a year’s time—I found it late and it could grow on me further. A truly fascinating record.

#3. Messa // The Spin – While I’ve been a fan of Messa since their first record and through all their stylistic exploration, The Spin really blew me away. Sara Bianchin sounds fantastic, and there’s a wonderful allure to the tone of the rest of the band. Others have commented on The Spin feeling a bit like a collection of songs rather than a cohesive record, which is probably true and probably kept this from the top spot… but the songs are so damn good it’s hard to care that much. I came back to this a few times, even during the worst few months of the year, and had half of it stuck in my head half the time. At one point, I spent several days unable to get the opening riff of the opening track out of my head, and it doesn’t get any less addictive from there. In the last couple of months, I’ve had to actively resist putting it on at times to make sure I give other, less immediate records enough listening time.

#2. Psychonaut // World Maker – Yeah, so I’m a sucker for the kind of atmospheric post/prog metal played by bands like The Ocean or Dvne. Here is this year’s winner in that space. I’ve wanted to like Psychonaut in the past more than I actually have, but World Maker finally clicked for me in a big way. It’s intricate, catchy, in places techy, in others psychedelic. The songs unfold in interesting ways, and listening to it feels like exploring. From the buildup of the opening track, I knew this would be exactly what I wanted in this sort of music. And as Ken wrote in his review, the more personal dimension to World Maker’s themes elevates it (with some similarities to Pelagial’s place as the best Ocean album). A record that rewards time and attention.

#1. Shepherds of Cassini // In Thrall to Heresy – In Thrall to Heresy’s victory here was not exactly inevitable when I reviewed it back in February, but it was certainly likely. The glorious return of a niche band I loved and thought lost? It would have taken something spectacular to upset it. I listened to this all year, through the difficult period, and kept on loving it. For all that retro prog is a bit of an oxymoron, 00s-early 10s prog is one of my favorite eras of music. (There was a lot of rabbling in the comments about me not having explicitly compared them to Riverside and Tool, so to be explicit, if you liked Riverside through to SoNGS, you’ll like this. They’re far less pretentious than Tool.) In Thrall is a fresh enough take to feel like progression, not a throwback. Its violin leads add variety (as well as claiming the Angry Cello Guy crown for the year). Shepherds’ songwriting has matured in the last decade. Their instruments sound pleasingly chunky. A post-y twist presses additional musical buttons for me. One could only make this more laser-targeted at my specific musical niche by somehow adding industrial bluegrass.4 Don’t make me wait 10 years for the next record, please.

Honorable Mentions:

• 1914 // Viribus Unitis – Brutal and moving, this is some really good blackened death/doom. It’s not as good as Die Urkatastrophe, though—sorry, 1914 fans.
• Aephanemer // Utopie – The spectre of AMG’s law of diminishing recordings begins to haunt Aephanemer, for what is Utopie if not Aephanemer sounding like Aephanemer? It’s damn good, though.
• Ellereve // Umbra – Sad-girl post-metal? Yes please.
• Howling Giant // Crucible & Ruin – Just some really good stoner/psych.
• Net-Ruiner // Prototype – The synthwave/metal cross ends up being a little too much of a gimmick to land a proper list spot, but nonetheless an absolute blast.
• Raphael Weinroth-Browne // Lifeblood – I know I made an Angry Cello Guy joke up there, but it turns out you can, in fact, have too much cello. Weinroth-Browne’s multi-layered modern classical composition (in both senses) of cellos is always impressive and regularly emotive. Had Lifeblood been edited down to keep, say, the best 40 minutes of its current 60, this would have been up there in my list somewhere. Alas.
• Various Artists // KPop Demon Hunters – Relegated to HMs because this isn’t an album I like so much as it’s an album containing six songs I absolutely adore, and six others, but fuck me, the main cast songs (less “Soda Pop”) are bangers.

Songs o’ the Year:

• Calva Louise – “Impeccable”
• Concrete Age – “Boro Boro”
• Howling Giant – “Scepter and Scythe”
• HUNTR/X – “Golden”
• HUNTR/X – “Takedown”
• HUNTR/X – “What It Sounds Like”
• Messa – “Fire on the Roof”
• Saja Boys – “Your Idol”
• Scardust – “Touch of Life” suite
• Shepherds of Cassini – “Abyss”
• Tiktaalika – “Fault Lines:

Twelve

I am so behind on writing this. Behind on writing in general, really, but I’m writing this introduction very late by Angry Metal Standards®.5 Over the year, my writing for this blog waned notably, but I’m still very proud of my output this year, and discovered some delightful gems thanks to this blog and my privileged position to write for it. As is traditional, I want to extend my sincere thanks to my co-writers for their fantastic camaraderie and to the editors who allow me to keep writing here, probably against their better judgment. Everything changes all the time, but feeling right at home here stays the same.

Last year I claimed that, by any measure, 2024 was the worst year of my life, and I’m happy to say that remains true this year. Interestingly, however, I listened to much less music, and, more to the point, liked less music. In the past few months, I’ve been asking my co-writers here to recommend the music they think will top their own lists, and I just… kept not liking them. For some reason, almost nothing has been sticking musically. That’s not a comment on my colleagues’ tastes, of course—the writers here have an astounding talent for finding some of the best music there is. But I’ve been struggling to keep up.

So this year, I’m keeping things simple and writing about the twelve albums I liked best in 2025. Occasionally, when we talk about our end-of-year listings, there’s an idea that some albums need to be of a certain quality to be “worthy” of a top-ten (or top-top) spot, but if I start thinking that way, this list is never going to materialize. So I’ve gone with my gut and am now going to talk your ear off about the music I personally liked the most.

All of which is to say, I think my list is weird this year. I did my best! And I’m happy with it. But it’s weird.

Thanks for reading my nonsense in 2025—it really does mean a lot. Let’s all do it again next year!

#ish. Dawnwalker // The Between – A single-song album is such an ambitious undertaking, and I really can’t express enough how impressive it is that “The Between” feels like an actual half-hour song. Dawnwalker is so impressive on The Between, and the composition is truly a work of art. It’s grown on me since I reviewed it in October, and I just have to highlight the amazing songwriting from Mark Norgate and Dawnwalker before I dive into my list proper.

#10. Calva Louise // Edge of the Abyss – Let the weird begin! Edge of the Abyss is not something I thought for a second would make this list when Angry Metal Guy wrote about it, but it’s wormed its way into my head and heart. Deceptively catchy, a lot cleverer than it first appears, and filled to the brim with energy, Edge of the Abyss is a fun, memorable, and surprisingly relatable slice of… some kind of metal. I really don’t know how to categorize it, and I’m not sure how to get it out of my head either. Great album.

#9. Nechochwen // Spelewithiipi – Continuing with what may be another unusual pick, Nechochwen’s Spelewithiipi is not something I considered for this list straightaway. I have to admit, though, it has been a comforting listen that I’ve returned to often over the course of the year. It is well-composed, deceptively complex, and easy to spin again and again. On days I’ve felt low, there’s been a magic in Spelewithiipi that does wonders in keeping me well.

# 8. Völur & Cares //Breathless Spirit – Breathless Spirit is such an impressive album. For one thing, you’d never, ever guess there isn’t a lead guitar, despite the fact that Bates’s violin is a significant part of Völur’s unique character and spirit. As doom metal, Breathless Spirit dominates; it is powerful, mournful, wry, and cathartic. It’s a truly fascinating display of music, one that reveals new character every time you listen.

#7. Falling Leaves // The Silence That Binds Us – Speaking of doom metal, The Silence That Binds Us tells us that sometimes taking a break can be a good thing. It’s been thirteen years since Falling Leaves released their debut, and their sophomore feels like it had been simmering for a while. Expert compositions, passionate performances, and a huge atmosphere contribute to what I thought was “the” doom metal release of the year. There is so much care and attention in The Silence That Binds Us, so much feeling from every player, so much love in the production and master—even the cover art is gorgeous.

#6. Raphael Weinroth-Browne // Lifeblood – I didn’t expect Lifeblood to creep its way up here the way it has, but I’ve been listening to it more and more lately and realized I actually like it a lot more than a lot of other stuff. Raphael Weinroth-Browne’s compositions are stunning, and the more you listen to them, the better they get. For an instrumental, non-metal project, Lifeblood conveys so much meaning, so much emotion, and feels heavy for what it is. It’s a powerful work and a lovely one too—exactly what we’ve come to expect from as talented a cellist and composer as Weinroth-Browne.

#5. Aephanemer // Utopie – The direction Aephanemer’s music has taken since they first appeared on this blog with Prokopton is fascinating. Each release since has been a touch less aggressive and notably broader in terms of its composition and ambition. Utopie, I feel, balances these nuances the best—it’s an epic, sprawling album that reaches high and grasps onto something exciting. There is a level of care and attention to detail to Utopie that rewards repeat listens, and I still feel like I’m getting more and more into it as I listen. Who knows, maybe I’ll regret this “low” placement before long; this one’s a grower.

#4. Amorphis // Borderlands – Amorphis don’t need much introduction at this point, but lately I haven’t been very invested in their releases. It can be tough, I imagine, being such an iconic band with such a recognizable sound. But Borderlands feels fresh to me; an old formula done right, modernized reasonably enough to stand out, and with the gusto of a much newer band. Incidentally, this was also the first CD I’ve purchased in years—an impromptu grab at a record store I’d forgotten existed—and the bonus tracks therein are amazing additions (“Rowan and the Cloud” is a delightful closer, more so, I would argue, than “Despair”). It’s nice to be enamored by Amorphis again. They seem to still know what they’re doing.

#3. Saor // Amidst the Ruins – I’ve slept on Saor in the past, but Amidst the Ruins is an amazing album. Rarely is black metal—atmospheric black metal, no less—so impassioned, but I’ve never wanted to visit Scotland so much as the first time I heard “Rebirth” at the end of my first listen. It’s hard to quantify what makes Amidst the Ruins such a special record, really. The blend of black metal and folk metal isn’t new, nor is the style in which Marshall writes so well. But listening to Saor, you can’t help but feel his pride and awe for a homeland you may never have seen yourself. Amidst the Ruins crept its way into my rotations again and again throughout the year, and it’s been the most pleasant musical surprise of 2025 for me by far.

#2. Apocalypse Orchestra // A Plague Upon Thee – I really thought I’d give Apocalypse Orchestra my top spot, but admittedly, I thought that before I’d even heard it. The way these guys blend medieval themes with folk, doom, and metal is genuinely fascinating and incredibly well done. Add to the list that they perform thorough research and the music is educational on top of it all—what’s not to love? A Plague Upon Thee was my most-anticipated album of the year, and Apocalypse Orchestra really delivered, with sweeping epics telling takes of historic darkness and endearing humanity. Everything from the bagpipes to the choirs sounds amazing, and while I did have a couple of reservations initially, the simple truth is that this music is so well up my alley—and is performed so well too—that I was always bound to love it enough for this list. I can only hope to uncover more music as wonderfully niche as this again.

#1. 1914 // Viribus Unitis – I have not listened to every item of music released in 2025, but I still think I can say that none could be more powerful than 1914’s Viribus Unitis. I listened to nothing heavier, nothing more memorable, and nothing so relevant as 1914’s story of a Ukrainian soldier caught up in the mania of the First World War. From battle-frenzied bloodlust to heartbreaking captivity, his story follows 1914’s relentless message of the horrors of war. In the past, I’ve praised 1914 for the honesty in their bleak outlook on their namesake war, and Viribus Unitis could not have done a better job in following that idea. The songs range from brutal to cathartic; every guest musician elevates their song, and the choir is a brilliant way to balance trademark heaviness with emotional impact. Viribus Unitis is the most impactful album I’ve listened to in a long, long time, and I admire every musician involved for their part in that. Viribus Unitis was my top album for 2025 the moment I finished the first spin.

Honorable Mention

• Marko Hietala // Roses from the Deep – I’ve looked back at my review of Roses from the Deep a couple of times since writing and wondered if my personal admiration for Hietala’s career made me over-excited to review it. Is it possible I rated it highly simply because it’s such a fascinating culmination of the career of a musician I like? Either way, I’m keeping to the course—this was a fun listen in a year where I didn’t find so many upbeat albums to enjoy, and I keep coming back to it in bits and pieces depending on my mood; it’s a diverse exploration, and you can tell everyone had a good fun creating it.

Song of the Year

This was a hard one. There are so many powerful, emotional songs littered throughout this list—especially on Viribus Unitis, where the passion is particularly raw. But in keeping with the theme of what I personally found most affecting, I just keep coming back to this little gem on Autumn Tears’s latest. “Martyrdom – Catharsis (Where Gods Go to Die)” has a strangely compelling quality that kept me coming back again and again since I first reviewed Crown of the Clairvoyant. The singing, choirs, organ—really, everything about the composition is mesmerizing. I don’t imagine a lot of people will have this one on their year-end playlists. It’s a niche, quiet little song, but it’s wormed its way into my heart and speaks strongly to how I’ve felt about 2025 in a way I can’t quite describe.

Crown of the Clairvoyant by Autumn Tears

AMG’s Unsigned Band Rodeö: Kalaveraztekah – Nikan Axkan

By Dolphin Whisperer

“AMG’s Unsigned Band Rodeö” is a time-honored tradition to showcase the most underground of the underground—the unsigned and unpromoted. This collective review treatment continues to exist to unite our writers in boot or bolster of the bands who remind us that, for better or worse, the metal underground exists as an important part of the global metal scene. The Rodeö rides on.”

The Rodeö is full of surprises. Today’s potential riff trap hails from the arid lands of Aguascalientes, Mexico, known most famously for its array of hot springs and National Museum of Death. Yes, in death Kalaveraztekah revels, and not just in a death metal groove indebted to the jagged scrawl of Morbid Angel or the destructive howl of early Behemoth. With a healthy inclusion of pre-Hispanic, indigenous instrumentation alongside their chunky and pinch-addled drive, Nikan Axkan churns and tumbles through chants and thunderous drum roll to shine a light on the Mexica culture and history of sacrifice and spirit world. To excavate the wonders that the adventurous Kalaveraztekah holds hidden in the underground, we’ve assembled a crack Rodeö crew, including an appearance from The Man, The Myth, The AMG Himself. Surely that means that everyone followed the word count, right? – Dolphin Whisperer

Kalaveraztekah // Nikan Axkan [May 2nd, 2025]

AMG Himself: Kalaveraztekah’s Nikan Axkan represents hopes and dreams that I have harbored for years. When will we finally get the seminal piece of Aztec-influenced extreme metal that will whet my appetite for both death metal and Mesoamerican history?1 With aplomb, these astonishingly unsigned Aguascalientes-ites2 do the fine job of balancing two equally vital parts of a single sound. Kalaveraztekah hits like a ton of bricks, dealing in death metal that’s neither old nor school, it’s just brutal and grindy, tempered only by peyote-fueled excursions into the netherworld. The core of their sound is brutal Mexican death metal replete with blasts and machine gun kicks, neck-damaging riffing, pig-squealing guitars, brutal growls (and occasionally less-brutal screamies) synced with the snare, and an intensity that I associate with writing reviews of bands like Vomitory or Crypta. It’s got the riffs and intensity with just a touch of melody, and I bask in its brutality and shreddy, squealy solos. Kalaveraztekah’s particular innovation in this sphere is the successful inclusion of traditional folk elements from the indigenous people located throughout Mexico, but which is today used almost exclusively for the Mexica people of Tenochtitlan (which is modern-day Mexico City).3 Kalaveraztekah’s focus on “Aztec Cosmogony” lends itself perfectly to the second part of their unique sound: dreamy folk soundscapes that they adapt seamlessly—and convincingly—when they shift gear. Driven by reverb-soaked soundscapes, Spanish guitars,4 and what I assume is a tlapitzalli (flute), the band lends atmosphere and dynamics that are necessary to offset a style of death metal that at times can risk monotony. And when they meet, these two sounds crash into each other like storm fronts, creating something beautiful and terrible to behold, simultaneously brutal and thoughtful, grindy and melodic, atmospheric and immediate. I fuckin’ love this shit.

Next up on my befolkened death metal bucketlist: the Olmecs! 4.0/5.0

Dear Hollow: What’s great about Kalaveraztekah is their ability to channel their heritage into an homage to the Mexica that sounds ancient, cosmic, and brutal. Featuring a blend not unlike the formidable shaman-themed Hell:on, the lethal fusion of cutthroat death metal and folk instruments offers balance: wild guitar solos, haunting flutes, terrifying death whistles, and ritualistic drums shine amid the no-frills Sulphur Aeon-esque riffs. While similarities to other Mexico-based Aztec- or Mayan-themed groups are unavoidable, Pre-Hispanic folk instrumentation is not mere novelty like it is for Ocelotl or Eunoë, nor is it an atmospheric saturation of bloody sacrifice in the manner of Aztlan or Cemican – rather, Kalaveraztekah uses ritualistic and ceremonial elements to amplify the cyclical cosmic grandiosity of the Five Suns in an album of both creation and devastation. Nikan Axkan offers riffs galore (“Tlazolteotl,” “Xiuhtekuhtli Weweteotl”), haunting overtures with spoken word that recall sacrificial ecstasy and the vast rotting realms of the gods (“Yowaltecuhtli,” “Illwikatl Meztli”), and just enough techy flavors of soaring intensity and dissonant menace to warrant diversity and complexity (“Xolotl Axolotl,” “Xiuhmolpili”). While the album is a tad overlong at nearly fifty minutes, Kalaveraztekah’s approach straddles the line between violently visceral and gloriously colossal – truly “el amanecer del nuevo sol” indeed. 4.0/5.0

Iceberg: I love it when an album requires me to do some research to unwrap its mysteries. Before I came across Nikan Axlan I had precious little knowledge of Aztec mythology. But now, thanks to Aguascalientes natives Kalaveraztekah, I can confidently tell my Xolotls from my Axolotls. Kalaveraztekah’s sonic template skews more groove than death metal, but the inclusion of a host of traditional instruments keeps the music refreshing and thoroughly unnerving. The tribal drums and wind instruments maintain a constant otherworldly atmosphere, and the extraneous vocal additions are excellent (the frantic spoken word of “Yowaltekuhtli” and the Wilhelm screams of “Xolotl Axolotl”). Kalaveraztekah aren’t content to sit in any one corner with their instruments either. The trebly blues tone of “Yowaltekuhtli” feels ripped from a Los Lonely Boys album, and the sweeping neoclassical riff that forms the backbone of “Xiuhmolpilli” screams symphodeath BOMBAST.5 The biggest drawback for me here is that in leaning so far into the groove metal style, the BPM goes stale in its mid-paced swagger. Given everything else that Kalaveraztekah unleashes on Nikan Axkan, I’m left wondering what this band would sound like if they really stepped on the gas and hit that NOS button (although the opening riff of “Wewekyotl” gets pretty damn close). That quibble aside, Nikan Axkan is a compelling and replayable record, and a great trip into the dark, bizarre world of Aztec mythology. I highly recommend this album for those looking for some tasty groove metal with a bit of strange on the side. 3.5/5.0

Alekhines Gun: Move over Tzompantli, there’s a new band in town. Channeling the instrumental flourishes of Nechochwen filtered through something adjacent to The Zenith Passage in production,6 Kalaveraztekah have presented a slab of agave scented folky melodic death so meticulously constructed and well produced that I’m actually stunned it’s an independent release. From the triumphant flourishes dotting the leads in “Yowaltekuhtli” to the thunderous tribal percussion-laced breakdowns in “Xiuhtekuhtli Weweteotl”, Nikan Axkan never wants for a variety of gripping moments. A sense of propulsion flows through the album, rendering the occasional interludes atmospheric rather than momentum-killing. Songs like “Xolotl Axolotl” feature heaps of skronk and tawngy tech only to instantly be offset by indigenous instruments and melodic atmospherics in equal measure. True, each individual track feels a bit long in the tooth and seem as though they could benefit from some editing, and I wish the bottom end didn’t sound so artificial. Nevertheless, every time I found myself thinking such thoughts I was suddenly blown away by some excellent new riff or lovely melody from wood instruments or percussion, slotting neatly into the album’s reasonable runtime. Nikan Axhan is an album with a remarkably matured and well-executed vision, and has been a gripping, engaging listen with each spin. Support this album. 3.5/5.0

Thyme: Most bands continually seek ways to bring originality into their work. For Aguascalientes, Mexico, five-piece death metal outfit Kalaveraztekah, that originality comes in the form of heaving helpings of Mesoamerican folk instrumentation, expertly woven into the deathly fabric of their sophomore album Nikan Azkan. Right off the bat, I felt transported to the middle of a Mexican rainforest as tribal drums and folkish guitar lines cede their delicate grip to Behemoth-like death riffs and a hellish vocal attack that rivals Nergal’s (“Nikan Axkan (El Aquí y El Ahora)”). When Nikan Azkan isn’t channeling Demigod levels of viciousness, its hybrid form of folk death conjures Roots-era Sepultura with sludgily dirty riffs, primitive death chants, and a plethora of indigenous instruments ranging from ocarinas to Aztec death whistles (“Xiuhtekuhtli Weweteotl (El Fuego Ancestral),” “Wewekoyotl (El Coyote Viejo)”). Kalaveraztekah brings loads of atmosphere to Nikan Axkan, especially on “Yowaltekuhtli (Un Sueño En La Oscuridad),” with its haunting instrumentation—the guitar work is top notch here—and the desperate, breathless pleas of the narrator conjuring tons of dramatic tension. On repeated spins, the magic within Nikan Axkan continues to unravel. While the meshing of Kalaveraztekah’s death metal—standard as it may be—with its folk-forward instrumentation tends to blur tracks together, enjoyment didn’t dissipate the more I listened. Fans of what Tzompantli are doing would be hard-pressed to miss this, and I suggest they don’t. 3.0/5.0

#AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo #AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo2025 #Aztec #Behemoth #Crypta #DeathMetal #FolkMetal #GrooveMetal #HellOn #IndependentRelease #Kalaveraztekah #LosLonelyBoys #May25 #MexicanMetal #MorbidAngel #Nechochwen #NikanAxkan #ProgressiveDeathMetal #Review #Reviews #SelfRelease #Sepultura #SulphurAeon #Tzompantli #Vomitory

Nechochwen – Spelewithiipi Review

By Killjoy

It can be healthy for artists to periodically take time to reset and remember what first compelled them to start creating music. Aaron Carey originally founded Nechochwen in West Virginia as an unostentatious acoustic guitar project paying homage to his Native American lineage. It didn’t take long for black metal influence to emerge and with the addition of Andrew D’Cagna as the rhythm section, the two styles proved a potent pairing to explore the cultural history sewn into every note. 2015’s Heart of Akamon was well-received in the metal community and by our Vice Overlord Steel Druhm, who later went on to underrate their very good1 follow-up Kanawha Black. During all this time,2 Nechochwen had been quietly working on Spelewithiipi, a fully instrumental acoustic folk album akin to their debut full-length Algonkian Mythos. Can Nechochwen come full circle and revisit an older style without feeling like a step backward?

Nechochwen was always more inclined to reach for an acoustic guitar than an electric, but Spelewithiipi takes it a step further. Carey’s multi-tracked acoustic guitars enjoy near total exclusivity, plucking and strumming along like a bolder variation of older (and newer) October Falls. This is something of a double-edged sword—there is little to distract from the graceful guitar melodies, but the emotive burden of proof falling solely upon one instrument can be a challenging songwriting prospect. This may be why similar-minded neofolk albums from Thurnin and Wÿntër Ärvń in recent months opted to diversify with various other folk instrumentation, and Spelewithiipi follows suit, albeit sparingly. Here and there, indigenous drum beats (“Lenawe’owiin,” “Spelewithiipi,” “Primordial Passage”), a full drum kit (“Precipice of Stone”), and a gentle flute (“Lenawe’owiin,” “Spelewithiipi”) provide embellishment. This pared-back instrumentation is an important part of Spelewithiipi’s reverent, intimate nature.

At this point in his career, Carey can wring seemingly every ounce of breadth and depth from his weapon of choice. The acoustic guitar lines, usually appearing in pairs, flow and breathe as they fluctuate in intensity and complexity. Sometimes they’re straightforward, with clear lead and rhythm roles (“Nemacolin’s Path,” “Spelewithiipi”). Elsewhere, Nechochwen weaves multiple distinct melodies together into a more elegant soundscape (“Tpwiiwe,” “Precipice of Stone”). Unsurprisingly, the music is intrinsically bonded with nature, the rain sounds in “Othaškwa’alowethi behme” adding a mystical effect to the stream of twanging guitar notes. The best and most passionate performance lies in “Mthothwathiipi,” which features a gentle, cascading tune that gives way to vigorous fingerpicking laced with percussive slaps. The immense skill on display almost convinces me that Nechochwen might be better off in this unplugged realm.

Almost. Like a phantom limb, I find it impossible not to miss Nechochwen’s black metal side. In my view, their appeal mainly stemmed from the meticulous melding of acoustic folk with metal, not either component taken individually. Therefore, an attempt to decouple them was, perhaps, destined to yield a diminished result. Even setting aside genre preferences, Spelewithiipi lacks much of the structure and focus from when Nechochwen were grounded in black metal conventions. The first half of the record fares better thanks to more developed melodies, whereas the back half feels more barren and aimless (particularly “Primordial Passage”), but nearly every song suffers to some extent from rocky transitions or promising ideas cut short. With fewer musical handholds on Spelewithiipi, the overall songwriting needed to be more coherent and engaging to make up the difference.

Spelewithiipi is not an immediate album; it invites rather than seizes the listener’s attention. Accordingly, fans of Nechochwen’s recent work will likely need to manage expectations and exercise patience. As I spent time with it and let go of what I wanted to hear from Nechochwen, I gained greater appreciation of what they created. Aaron Carey plays heartfelt, stirring acoustic guitar lines the likes of which I’ve never heard before, and I’m in awe of his instrumental mastery. Yet, even the best guitarwork on Spelewithiipi is not quite as captivating as that of Heart of Akamon or Kanawha Black. This, plus the relinquishment of metal influence and its short 31-minute runtime, make it hard to see Spelewithiipi as a complete Nechochwen record. But, even so, this is still a pleasant walk through the woods worth taking.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 13 | Format Reviewed: 192 kbps mp3
Label: Nordvis Produktion
Websites: nechochwen-nordvis.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/nechochwen
Releases Worldwide: May 9th, 2025

#2025 #30 #AmericanMetal #DarkFolk #DarkNeofolk #Folk #Instrumental #May25 #Nechochwen #NordvisProduktion #NotMetal #OctoberFalls #Review #Reviews #Spelewithiipi #Thurnin #WÿntërÄrvń

Ironflame – Kingdom Torn Asunder Review

By Holdeneye

It’s a little known fact that traditional metal is scientifically proven to possess therapeutic qualities. While anecdotal, you should consider my own experience to be even more authoritative than any evidence that science can produce. Whenever I’m feeling down about my work, my home responsibilities, or just life in general, putting on some tunes about warriors valiantly battling in the name of duty and honor usually kickstarts my heart and returns the gleam to the eye of my tiger. Ironflame, the traditional metal platform of Nechochwen’s Andrew d’Cagna, was formed in 2016, and since that time, the project has released four stellar platters of classic heavy metal. The name Ironflame has twice graced my year-end list, so upon the announcement of fifth album Kingdom Torn Asunder, I almost gave in to the urge to reserve the record a spot on my 2024 contenders list. I ultimately decided that I should probably listen to the music first.

Ironflame’s approach to trad-metal has always been formulaic, but I certainly don’t mean that in a derogatory way. I love formulas. I love knowing that if I plug an input into a formula that I can count on the result being pure and true. So it goes with Kingdom Torn Asunder, but I had very little doubt that the album would be well executed and enjoyable. First single “Soul Survivors” demonstrates that the band’s sound hasn’t changed one iota; it still sounds like latter-day Iron Maiden, if Bruce and co. specialized in concise, energetic metal anthems instead of bloated monstrosities. The track’s driving rhythms and layered vocals have had a way of burrowing into my mind, where they’ve squatted rent-free for weeks.

Of Kingdom Torn Asunder’s eight standard-version tracks, all eight hit the target. Barn-burners like opener “Blood and Honor,” “Standing Tall,” and “Majesty of Steel Druhm” hit hot and heavy, while the band’s penchant for killer mid-paced numbers is reprised with the likes of “Mistress of Desire,” “Shadow of the Reaper,” and the amazing “Sword of a Thousand Truths.” The way the band approaches the latter, a song inspired by perhaps my favorite South Park episode of all time, in such a deadly serious way, is the embodiment of what traditional heavy metal is all about for me. Pure gold.

I don’t have anything to complain about here. The performances, production, and aesthetic are all killer, and the songwriting matches that quality. As usual, d’Cagna handles everything except the solos, and, as usual, he demonstrates that he’s a one-man medieval fantasy army. His drumming thunders like the hooves of an oncoming Steppe horde, his rhythm guitar bites harder than a dwarven battle axe, and his vocals resound with an incredibly high charisma score. There’s not a single song here that fails to speak to my warrior soul, and that includes my promo’s two CD version-only bonus tracks. The standard version’s eight tracks go for about 40 minutes, and it is simply *chef’s kiss*.

Ironflame’s last album, Where Madness Dwells, was a top-10 inclusion for me, and if you put a sword to my neck and forced me to choose, I’d say that Kingdom Torn Asunder is even stronger. D’Cagna has molded Ironflame into one of the coolest representatives of the New Wave of Traditional Heavy Metal, and these tunes of honor and glory will be lifting my sword, and my spirits, for the rest of the year.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: High Roller Records
Websites: ironflame.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/ironflameusa
Releases Worldwide: July 26th, 2024

#2024 #40 #AmericanMetal #HeavyMetal #HighRollerRecords #IronMaiden #Ironflame #Jul24 #KingdomTornAsunder #Nechochwen #Review #Reviews

Ulvik – Last Rites | Dire Omens Review

By Mystikus Hugebeard

Last Rites | Dire Omens. Interesting album title, that. Last rites signify mourning and gentle acceptance, while dire omens suggest malevolence, a promise of death yet to come. Likely by design, these contrasting themes directly apply to the kind of neofolk and atmospheric black metal that Canadian duo Ulvik peddles, as the sad beauty of their folk music inevitably succumbs to a more pronounced black metal malevolence. Hailing from the endless pine trees of Canada’s westernmost territory British Columbia, Ulvik invites you to immerse yourself in their rural melancholy with their fourth opus, Last Rites | Dire Omens.

Ulvik’s atmospheric black/folk manifests in ways both familiar and unfamiliar for the genre. The implementation of acoustic guitars and strings reminds one of bands like Nechochwen and Panopticon, while the emotional tone wouldn’t feel out of place alongside the prairie-doom-isms of Altars of Grief. The metal, on the other hand, challenges the atmoblack label. Opener “Through False Dust” may initially give the impression of a traditionally atmospheric approach with distant, chilly tremolos, but the guitars quickly gain an uncharacteristic urgency as the album progresses. Last Rites | Dire Omens won’t allow you to drift into pleasant listlessness as you might elsewhere; many of the album’s deep, at times almost chugging riffs have a blunt force to them that demands your attention, while the vocalist’s emotive shrieks and all the wailing layers of guitars veer more into post-black metal territory. But while I typically associate emotions like sorrow or grief with the peaks of typical post-black metal, when Ulvik is at their heaviest in a track like “Sown on Earth,” I hear only anger.

Much of what works about Last Rites | Dire Omens lies in the simple appeal of Ulvik’s soundscape. Within the greater pantheon of folky atmoblack bands, Ulvik’s folk elements are some of the best I’ve heard. They bring to life the album’s bleak atmosphere while simultaneously underlining it with beauty; the heavier songs open with densely layered strings that have real grit to them, while the acoustic guitars are softer, offering a comforting reprieve. The acoustic interludes, which could’ve just been unremarkable asides, become genuine album highlights in Ulvik’s hands. This evocative, expressive dark folk pairs nicely with the metal’s bluntness and serves as an effective foil to the folk’s subtleties. After the gradual build of miserable strings and anguished spoken words in “Sown on Earth,” that aforementioned anger in the song’s crushing verse cuts all the deeper. That same bluntness did initially make the eight-minute “Glass & Scythe” feel tedious, but I’ve grown fond of its variations-on-a-theme approach to a simple, satisfying motif, for within this simplicity lies an emotional clarity that is thus enabled to shine through.

For most of the album’s duration, few issues stood out as terribly damning. The folk instruments are sorely missed within “Life & Death Are One”‘s repetitive avant-garde dissonance, and the first interlude, “Woven Into Threads,” is placed too early as the third song, but nevertheless, the album was overall an easy recommend. Emphasis on was, because the closing duo of songs changed matters for the worse. “The Pallid Mask” mirrors the increasing violence of the spoken words from “Sown on Earth,” but the speaker’s forceful delivery isn’t as believable and the song crawls to an insultingly short payoff that’s negligible in comparison. “Yesterday & Years Ago” has a more concrete, satisfying melancholy to it, but toothlessly meanders into yet more overlong spoken words without ever hitting its stride. Perhaps these songs might not offend as much were they spread out, but together they end the album on an extremely dour note that I’ve begun avoiding altogether on repeat listens. Each song builds towards a resolution that either disappoints or never even arrives, and in so doing rob the album as a whole of the resolution it deserved.

Perhaps the final word on this album isn’t as positive as I’d like, but I’m glad I found Ulvik. There’s a lot to like about the evocative dark folk and emotionally charged atmoblack that Ulvik brings to the table, and there are plenty of moments in Last Rites | Dire Omens that demonstrate why Ulvik is worth your time if this type of music appeals to you like it does to me. What a shame, then, that this album stumbles so hard at the finish line. There exists a differently organized or edited version of this album that I’d have gladly rated higher, but when an album ends on consecutive songs that so utterly miss the mark, it can’t be ignored.

Rating: Mixed
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps
Label: Avantgarde Music
Websites: bandcamp | facebook
Releases Worldwide: May 24, 2024

#25 #2024 #AltarsOfGrief #AtmosphericBlackMetal #AvantgardeMusic #BlackMetal #CanadianMetal #LastRitesDireOmens #May24 #Nechochwen #Neofolk #Panopticon #PostBlackMetal #Review #Reviews #Ulvik

Unbelievably pumped to discover that the mighty #Nechochwen will be playing at the Shadow Woods Metal Fest Reunion 2023. More great bands to be announced, waiting with baited breath…

Mechanicsburg, PA
October 20th-21st

https://www.eventbrite.com/e/the-reunion-2023-a-swmf-gathering-tickets-529826504337