Hey, remember in 2021, when we were all stuck indoors, six feet away from each other, and a little Swiss band called Impure Wilhelmina came out of nowhere and dropped Antidote, an album that had bangers from beginning to end, and was awarded a rare-but-coveted 5.0 from yours truly? That was a fun time, because there were some of you who loved the album (and still do), and many more of you who didn’t like it, and boy, some of you who hated it acted like the album personally violated your beloved dog or cat in front of your mother… who the album then shot in cold blood while gaslighting you. Yep, like I said… fun times! Good news is they’re back with their eigth album, Le sanglot, and to further endear to the listeners who may or may not have enjoyed their work so far, it’s sung entirely in French!

Okay, now that the detractors have noped the fuck outta here, I’m sure some of you have questions as to whether or not Le sanglot hits the same lofty highs of Antidote and Radiation. Sadly, the short answer is “no,” but that doesn’t mean there isn’t any enjoyment to be found on here. From the moment “Électricité noire” opens up, all the trademark Impurities lay bare: crashing atonal riffs, pounding drums, and Michael Schindl’s buttery smooth, soulful croon are all present and accounted for. The only difference is it’s in a different language… and that’s fine! If you enjoyed anything from the prior two albums, your head will still bob, and your inner sad-boi/-girl will be more than satiated by the song’s charms, just like the highlights on their previous outings did.

The problem here is that, despite whatever language the band decides to sing in, some of the songs just don’t land as well, or leave an impact. Immediate follow-up “Cent milles plais,” while musically pleasant and inoffensive, doesn’t do much to pull you in over the song’s duration. Elsewhere, closer “À jaimais radieuse” sounds like it’s building to something in the end, but it fades out as Schindl finishes off his second chorus, leaving the listener hanging and not in a good way. But while you have certified bangers like “Train mort,” the only song with black metal screaming and atmospherics, it’s that weird back-and-forth of quality that’s both confounding and frustrating.

What isn’t confusing or anger-inducing is the production. Once again silky-smooth and robust, Le sanglot oozes ferocity when needed, like on the blast-beat portion of album highlight “Blanche réalité,” giving the album a much-needed boost of energy. The quieter, softer moments also shine, like on the acoustic “Demain j’abandonne,” providing a rich, warm feeling while listening. But while it sounds great, I wish the songwriting were tighter this go-’round, with stronger choices and melodies. When Impure Wilhelmina fire on all cylinders, the results are usually not only impressive, but they tug on the heartstrings like few others do. On some of these songs, they just fall flat, and that’s a heartbreaking thing to admit.

But that’s not to say there isn’t anything enjoyable on Le sanglot, as there are still some great moments on here. They’re just few and far-between, and not at the level of their previous two albums. Just go into the album knowing this and, regardless of your expertise of the French language, you’ll be fine. Either way, I’m sure the comment section is going to be interesting, regardless of your stance on the band or their music.1

Review: 3.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Season of Mist
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: May 22nd, 2026

from @seasonofmistofficial

Tokyo's death metal architects are opening the portal early: Before Altered State mutates your speakers, you can experience it in its raw form.

Defiled invite you to a Bandcamp Listening Party for an advance spin of their ninth album, a dizzying blast of death metal that bends time, structure and sanity.

Thursday, May 28
⚪️12:00 PM CET
⚪️ 7:00 PM JST

See you there!

https://defiledjapan.bandcamp.com/live/altered-state-listening-party

#Defiled #AlteredState #SeasonOfMist
#BandcampListeningParty #DeathMetal

#TheMetalDogArticleList
#Blabbermouth
MISERY INDEX Signs With SEASON OF MIST; New Music To Arrive Later This Year

https://blabbermouth.net/news/misery-index-signs-with-season-of-mist-new-music-to-arrive-later-this-year

#MISERYINDEX #SEASONOFMIST #SignsWith #NewMusicToArriveLaterThisYear #deathmetal #grindcore #album #Blabbermouth #metal #music

GREEN CARNATION - 'A Dark Poem, Part ll: Sanguis' by @green2carnation & @seasonofmistofficial _ #Review @ @twilight_magazin

https://www.twilight-magazin.de/reviews/musik-review/green-carnation-a-dark-poem-part-il-sanguis

#greencarnation
#linsedunemanninen
#darkmetal
#progressivemetal
#harzhikingmetalpunk
#doommetal
#heavymetal
#seasonofmist
#metal

https://www.instagram.com/p/DXR6CfHDNMr/?igsh=MXM1NjJzd3JyMDZqcA==

A little less than a year ago, Green Carnation dropped Part I of their A Dark Poem trilogy, The Shores of Melancholia. That captivating record sets the stage for the band’s ambitious Ophelia-inspired epic. While I know many loved The Shores of Melancholia as it stood (which is fair), I had a difficult time treating it that way, knowing it was meant to be a full experience. Thankfully, I can say that The Shores of Melancholia works even more now that I’ve heard A Dark Poem Part II: Sanguis. The Shores of Melancholia is a fantastic introduction to the unbearable depression, frustration, guilt, and sorrow that envelop Sanguis and its impeccably concise, thirty-seven-minute runtime. So, I’ll admit, individual albums should have stand-alone qualities. That way, listeners can absorb a record in the moment and in the entire experience when they have time for such a thing. We all know Part I mostly achieved that, but what about Part II?

I can thankfully say that Green Carnation has achieved both. Sanguis is a record you can put on repeat with no problems, while also setting both parts on in succession. Everything that was set up in the first album is cranked to eleven in the sequel. And not just in songwriting, riffage, aggression, or attitude. This is still Green Carnation, after all. The sad moments I felt with the first album are far more intense in the sequel. The riffs are harder than most of the songs the band has ever written, and the slower pieces have the emotion of a broken-hearted child. This is exactly what much of the lyrical content focuses on. If there ever was A Dark Poem by Green Carnation, Sanguis is it.

A Dark Poem, Part II: Sanguis by Green Carnation

The self-titled opener is simply one of the most epic on the disc. It picks up from where the previous album left off and slingshots you into a powerful new direction. Incorporating spacey effects with a headbangable groove and a soaring, melodic chorus, this nine-minute beauty sets the stage for what’s to come. When the rasps arrive at the halfway mark, the desperation in the clean vocals intensifies, bringing along that good ole Green Carnation sadness. But the moment it all seems to come to an end, it transitions once more, splashing every known color on the canvas as it builds, drawing all manner of moods through its dripping, streaking, and smattering visualizations. This track alone is worth the journey into Sanguis, but it’s only the beginning.

We take a step back into the warm embrace of calmness with the follow-up track, “Loneliness Untold, Loneliness Unfold.” Ripped straight from the cutting floor of Acoustic Verses, this gorgeous track is made even more special because it features Stein Roger Sordal on vocals. And, by god, can he stand up straight next to the mighty Kjetil Nordhus. The closer, “Lunar Tale,” is another in the same vein. Simplistic in approach (that’s really what makes it so powerful), it uses soft vocals and breathy flute to zap any happiness you might have in your current situation, and leave you battered, broken, and without hope. Another track worth mentioning explores some sounds of Green Carnation’s past. “Fire in Ice” is a nifty compilation of the band’s current era, smashed together with the rocking character of A Blessing in Disguise. Opening with some soothing clean guitars, it alternates between a classic groove and a bass/drum-led lull. Then, it erupts into a kickass riff that rocks the socks off my dick. This song incorporates the ferocity and beauty of Green Carnation better than any on the album.

Outside of some goofy progginess on the back half of “Sweet to the Point of Bitter,” Sanguis is arguably damn-near perfect. The opener conjures fist-pumping anger at the sky; “Fire in Ice” lets you stomp down everything that stands in your way; and “Loneliness Untold, Loneliness Unfold”1 is the emotional breakdown song we’ve needed all year. Toss in a handsomely dynamic master that lets even the smallest of morsels of melancholy rise to the surface, and you have something that is simply breathtaking for the band and the genre. If Green Carnation has never resonated with you, there is nothing I can do to change your mind. For those who need something in these trying times to bolster their spirits or tear them apart (if only for a moment to reset), Sanguis is here for you.

Rating: 4.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Season of Mist
Websites: greencarnationsom.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/greencarnationnorway
Releases Worldwide: April 3rd, 2026

Sometimes a record practically introduces itself with a shrug. Take Via Doloris and their debut Guerre et Paix. The band name? A shortened nod to the Via Dolorosa. The death of Jesus and some “suffering-as-identity” vibes that we’ve seen a thousand times in black metal. The album title? Literally War and Peace in French. The cover art? You’ve seen it. You have seen it—some grayscale, vaguely haunted expanse that could just as easily front a dozen other releases clogging up the “give in to your anger” section. None of this is a crime on its own, but stack all these choices together, and they start pinging that lizard-brain reviewer alarm: this looks like a mid-tier black metal album before a single note even plays. Then there’s the promo copy, dutifully promising “a passage through pain in search of meaning, and the distant, flickering promise of rebirth.” Is this thing good, or is it just another entry in the ever-expanding catalog of metal-by-numbers?

Via Doloris is the solo project of guitarist Gildas le Pape, who spent several years performing live with Satyricon, and Guerre et Paix marks his debut under the moniker. The sound is a comfortable middle ground between more straightforward, blast-driven, 2nd-wave riffing and more expansive, atmospheric impulses, with le Pape’s melody-forward riffs driving the compositions. His guitar work never veers too far off the blackened path, but he imbues each riff with a sneaky melodicity and deploys a fair amount of variety in his 6-stringed attack. There are notes of Havukruunu-esque pagan black melodies (“Communion”), swirling Blut Aus Nord icy arpeggios (“Omniprésents”), and searing, Anaal Nathkrakh-flavored bouts of black metal destruction (“For The Glory”). Throughout it all, le Pape’s knack for catchy, multi-faceted blackened riff-craft shines through. The parts are at once hypnotic and aggressive, and often deepened through intricate guitar layers, allowing songs to flow seamlessly between movements. I’ve found the entrancing outro to “Ultime Tourment” or the Fluisteraars-like motif of “Visdommens Vei 1” stuck in my head for weeks during the review, a testament to the strength of the guitar parts on display and to their immersive effect.

The songs on Guerre et Paix largely sit in the 6–7 minute range, and while Via Doloris doesn’t always wring every possible peak out of that runtime, le Pape makes it feel purposeful more often than not. A track like “Un Franc Soleil” is built around an engaging central riff that subtly evolves as the song progresses, even if it stops just shy of a full-blown crescendo. This approach carries across the record: rather than leaning on dramatic shifts, le Pape favors gradual layering and textural changes, letting songs breathe and unfold at their own pace. The songwriting tends to stick to a core tempo and feel, with variation coming from added guitar layers, drum patterns, or ambient elements rather than structural overhauls. While this can create a meditative consistency that makes certain parts and songs blend together, it ultimately works in the album’s favor, giving Guerre et Paix a cohesive, immersive flow that reinforces the strength of its ideas over the course of a full listen.

This is all buoyed by a seriously sharp production job. Guerre et Paix sounds immaculate. Produced by le Pape and mixed with Nicolai Codling, it opts for clarity over the genre’s usual haze with crystalline guitars front and center, cutting cleanly through even the densest passages. They’re icy but precise, with every layered phrase coming through intact instead of dissolving into mush. Frost (Satyricon, 1349) turns in a characteristically stellar session performance, and the mix gives him room to flex. The drums have a warm, natural quality to them that showcases a varied performance. It allows the more subdued sections to breathe while still filling the mix during more intense, blast-heavy moments. It all comes together to elevate the album’s most dynamic touches, letting details like the choral swell in “Omniprésents” or the melancholic closing progression of “Communion” land exactly as they should.

As it turns out, Guerre et Paix lands comfortably above the genre’s overcrowded middle tier. Via Doloris has delivered an immersive and nuanced atmospheric black metal record, carried by memorable, melodic guitar work that unfolds beautifully over contemplative songs. It sounds amazing and marks le Pape as a promising voice within the space. This is way better than the somewhat generic packaging would suggest.



Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 10 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Season of Mist
Websites: viadoloris.bandcamp.com | instagram.com/via.doloris
Releases Worldwide: March 20th, 2026

Reviewing albums explicitly labelled post-metal always seems to bring out my inner pedant. I know all genre labels are kind of meaningless, but post-metal specifically seems to simply be slapped onto anything with fewer riffs than your average atmo-black record, but a lot more cleans. Nonetheless, you know what it sounds like, in essence. If that essence had form, it could be Unverkalt on their third LP Héréditaire. Born in Greece and now split between Greece and Germany, Unverkalt’s self-styled avant-garde approach to post-metal takes its “heaviest and most heartfelt” form on this album, which also marks their signing with Season of Mist. Unknown to me beforehand, promotional references to Cut of Luna and Sylvaine in particular caught my eye, along with the art. I’m glad I picked it up because Unverkalt have something that approaches brilliance at many times. But in embodying the vague yet recognisable subgenre—and sounding good whilst doing it—Héréditaire fails to go further than the safety of the minimum required.

Ignore the artist touchstones in the promo; Unverkalt has little meaningful in common with them: a female lead vocalist is about where that starts and ends. If anything, the aura reflects more Harakiri for the Sky, Heretoir, or maybe Frayle. Lead vocalist Dimitra Kalavrezou sings with a distinctive, somewhat sweet intonation, and screams with articulate fierceness—impressive considering this is her first record providing harsh vocals. Her voice is joined by that of guitarist Eli Mavrychev and—in a late-album highlight—Sakis Tolis (“I, The Deceit”), often layered and intermingled to lend a chorus-of-many-voices air that can be quite powerful. This sense of solidarity and humanity ties into Héréditaire’s overt emotionality—easily its greatest asset—which revolves around mournful yet uplifting themes that rise from softly resonant notes into the (regrettably blurry) weeping of tremolo and chunky riffs. It’s through the continued swell and fade of each composition that we get to see the greats that Unverkalt is capable of.

Héréditaire by Unverkalt

Even as songs tend to repeat the same pattern, most manage to draw the listener in. Synths (“Oath ov Prometheus”), vaguely MENA-style saxophone (“Ænæ Lithi”), and sprinklings of piano (“Penumbrian Lament”), and humming strings (“Maladie de l’Esprit”)1 float in and out, and I only wish they were used more. Harnessing the drama of surging, urgent riffs (“Die Auslöschung,” “Oath ov Prometheus”) and heartfelt group screams and singing (“Death is Forever,” “A Lullaby for the Descent”), the iterated compositions win you over by sheer force. These plainly beautiful melodies and ardent vocal performances are inextricable, each lending the other a level of strength and gravity neither could claim in isolation. Some songs stand head and shoulders above others in this regard: “Die Auslöschung,” “Death is Forever,” “Maladie de l’Esprit,” and in particular, “I, the Deceit,” where Sakis Tolis brings not only his voice but a distinctly Scandinavian melodeath2 vibe to a song where he and Dimitria also duet in their shared native tongue. That song and many others are also examples of Unverkalt’s strange, quasi-pop-rock leanings that they incorporate through the use of bobbing, understated clean refrains that slingshot back into something heavier or more atmospheric (“Oath ov Prometheus,” “A Lullaby for the Descent,” “Introjects”). This weirdness sharpens Unverkalt’s style and works surprisingly well.

Héréditaire thus brims with feeling, strong melodies, and potential. Undeniably stirring at its best (“Die Auslöschung,” “I, the Deceit,” “Maladie de l’Esprit”), and with little idiosyncrasies of style giving it distinction, as a whole it feels oddly unrealised. One culprit is the shockingly compressed mix, which robs the guitars of their body and drums of their bite. Given the vocal range on display and the elements of instrumental experimentation (horns, piano, etc), this would sound far better with a roomier production. But it’s primarily the overly repetitive structure of the compositions that causes issues. Though the passion of the singing or screaming, and the force of a good melody cause you to briefly forget, every song follows essentially the same trajectory—or rather, the same sequence of things repeats across the album, sometimes spanning between songs. Whispers or quiet singing, a steady beat and post-rock atmosphere, black-adjacent speed and screaming, and a lapse into a swaying tempo. With nine tracks adding up to around 50 minutes, you start to notice.

I don’t want to rag on Héréditarire too much; it’s a good album. The fervency and melancholia of the vocal performances—from Dimitria especially—and melodies show the passion behind the project, and there’s a thread of individuality that could pull them out of obscurity. But for as expressive, intriguing, and compelling as their music often is, Unverkalt’s reluctance—or inability—to step outside of a template holds them down when they could be soaring.

Rating: Good
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Season of Mist
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: February 27th, 2026

Drudkh – Forgotten Legends (Vinyl)

The album consists of four songs and every song has its own idea and purpose. There are epic "False Dawn", depressive "Forests in Fire and Gold" and cold "Eternal Turn Of The Wheel". Every of them contain sharp vocals, monotonous but not less beautiful and melodic tunes and clear drums without blastbeats. "Forgotten Legends" is the great album with catchy melodies and a pure rawness.

#blackmetal #vinyl #seasonofmist