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

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

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

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

Necropalace (24-bit HD audio) by Worm

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Crystal Lake is one of those bands that I lost track of. I adored 2015’s The Sign, its blend of hardcore attitude with a surgical metalcore attack and just enough djent and deathcore to make things interesting resulted in some of my all-time favorites in the style (“Prometheus,” “Matrix,” “Hades”). Yes, it’s knuckleheaded and boner-dragging brutality posturing, but for a jolt of breakdown-heavy sonic adrenaline, the Japanese quintet fit the bill. I lost track of them, with albums True North and Helix toning down the weight for an Erra-inspired atmospheric metalcore sound. It has been eight years since Helix entered the scene with a thud, so what can we expect from The Weight of Sound?

The Weight of Sound is the heft of change and consistency alike for Crystal Lake. A notable change is the departure of long-time vocalist Ryo Kinoshita, who released the debut for his solo project Knosis last year, and was replaced by John Robert Centorrino, former vocalist of The Last Ten Seconds of Life. The band acknowledges that Kinoshita’s shoes are nearly impossible to fill; to supplement, Centorrino is backed by an array of guest vocalists: David Simonich of Signs of the Swarm, Taylor Barber of Left to Suffer and Seven Hours After Violet, Myke Terry of Volumes and Fire from the Gods,1 Karl Schubach of Misery Signals and Jesse Leach of Killswitch Engage. Consistently, however, the instrumental approach is the same, bringing back the nu-metal-meets-djent-meets-hardcore chugs (whose absence made the last two outings toothless), as well as that trademark ethereal guitar layers. The result, however, falls woefully short compared to Crystal Lake’s landmark albums, as the knuckleheaded overtakes the thoughtful and the vocals become a monotonous muck.

The Weight of Sound (24-bit HD audio) by Crystal Lake

For positives, when Crystal Lake manages to balance the heavy and the atmospheric, tracks can truly soar. Yearning chord progressions, layers of melodies and sustained trills, and desperate vocals combine to add a nice dose of melancholy and fury, accented by the band’s signature guitar tone that balances djent weight with hardcore urgency. Even Centorrino’s cleans are a nice addition throughout these tracks, distant shouts or croons that recall Brett Gurewitz’s guest spot in Parkway Drive’s “Home is for the Heartless:”: tasteful and subtle. These tracks primarily populate the back half, a calm after the storm of metalcore pummeling, complete with a more somber mood (“The Undertow,” “The Weight of Sound,” “Sinners,” “Coma Wave”) that recalls more melodic hardcore-inflected metalcore acts like Counterparts or The Ghost Inside. The patience in the songwriting of these moments is also noteworthy, as movements feel nicely unhurried and appropriately contemplative.

Crystal Lake’s balance of the atmosphere and chug, as well as vocal charisma, have always been assets, but they plague The Weight of Sound. Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t love Helix’s more light-and-airy vibe, but too many tracks are just too knuckleheaded here to make a splash, particularly the opening “unnecessary contractions” triptych (“Everblack,” “BludGod,” “Neversleep”), which seem like the band’s metalcore answer to Signs of the Swarm’s To Rid Myself of Truth. Meanwhile, other tracks seem to be wildly inconsistent and are true head-scratchers in terms of placement in the tracklist, featuring bluesy Southern vibes (“King Down”) or awkward shifts between heavy and ethereal (“Dystopia,” “Crossing Nails”). Each placement in the playlist at large feels shoehorned and abrupt, from balls-to-the-wall heavy to southern to ethereal, to confused. For the number of guest vocalists that appear throughout The Weight of Sound, Centorrino’s vocals make them difficult to discern with his smokier and denser presence. It’s unclear if this makes him a better performer or if the production value is just that putrid – or both.

To their credit, Crystal Lake hasn’t had to change up their sound since Kinoshita’s departure, and the balance between ethereal atmosphere and chuggy metalcore remains a formidable asset. However, scattershot songwriting and odd track placement doom effectiveness beyond a few sparse moments to break up the confused, knuckleheaded beatdowns. The Weight of Sound is everything you loved about The Sign eleven years ago, but with less identity and more distraction, chugging along for one song before brutalizing you with breakdowns the next. But most notable is Crystal Lake’s lack of direction: The Weight of Sound is all chugs and atmosphere with no clear purpose.

Rating: 2.0/5.0
DR: N/A | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Century Media Records
Websites: crystallake-worldwide.com | facebook.com/crystallake777
Releases Worldwide: January 23rd, 2026

MAYHEM – Liturgy of Death
https://eternal-terror.com/?p=75965

RELEASE YEAR: 2026BAND URL: https://centurymedia.bandcamp.com/album/liturgy-of-death-24-bit-hd-audio

Legendary Norwegian black metal pioneers Mayhem surely need no introduction as these charismatic and chimeric entities have been at the vanguard of forward-thinking music for decades now. Renowned, infamous, musically exceptional, and nothing less than wholly captivating are words and phrases […]

#blackMetal #CenturyMediaRecords #ghul #hellhammer #liturgyOfDeath #necrobutcher #oslo #teloch #theTrueMayhem

🔥 #LornaShore #CenturyMediaRecords

https://youtu.be/aMSlF1oo6Bw?si=A4mqlfCBCs2X3LWJ

Blackened deathcore has truly run its course. This is simultaneously a hopeful sentiment, as it may encourage bands to explore new ideas, but also a sad one, because so few bands have actually created music that resembles the genre’s namesake. For every A Wake in Providence, there are twenty more bands flailing around with crappy production, boring synths, and chugga-wugga breakdowns that induce eye-rolls every time. Vegas-based Ov Sulfur sits somewhere between the two on their sophomore release, Endless. Featuring genuinely blackened elements in their sound, the band puts greater focus on melody and clean singing, bringing them much closer to… dare I say, blackened metalcore? If that genre makes you wretch on sight, fair. For the curious, I would say you will be rewarded, but approach with caution. Everybody else, go read a different review.

On Endless, Ov Sulfur refines the sound from their debut, which I genuinely could not stand (No offense, Thus Spoke). It says a lot that I found myself frequently enjoying the band’s take on blackened deathcore. Songs are generally tight, if formulaic, but they focus much more on riffs, and there is a surprising amount of blackened death metal in there. “Seed” features legit black metal riffing that leads into chainsaw-worship blackened death tremolo alongside brutal double-bass kicks. These elements are a mainstay across the album, which kept me going throughout Endless. Before you get too excited, the chorus comes in strong on “Seed,” and while Ricky Hoover’s cleans are perfectly servicable, this is just the tip of the iceberg on Endless. Tracks like “Seed,” “Forlorn,” and “Vast Eternal” are solid, but they all follow a tired formula. The backing riff on the chorus of “Seed” and “Forlorn” sounds almost identical, and every song is brought to a standstill by downright sleepy breakdowns. Even the album intro track is the comically overused “here is a breakdown, but it keeps getting slower,” that feels like a staple on every deathcore release these days.

Endless (24-bit HD audio) by Ov Sulfur

Endless isn’t without its redeeming qualities. Ricky Hoover’s vocals are genuinely great across the album. His cleans are surprisingly decent, even if a little “butt-rock” in his own words. His harsh vocals are clear and well-enunciated, making for surprisingly catchy moments even at the heaviest of times. “Vast Eternal” shows his speed, and his highs are crisp, avoiding the screeching heights that are devoid of technique. This is clearly a veteran vocalist doing his thing. The rest of the band keeps pace, and even more surprisingly for a deathcore band, there are tons of riffs on Endless. “Forlorn” starts with a sweeping, tapping intro and goes right into a groovy, blackened death slammer. Guitarists Chase Wilson and Christian Becker put the work in, and the album is filled with a delightful amount of axe heroics. There are even honest-to-goodness solos on this thing. The drums are a highlight too, and the album is full of double-bass brutality. Leviathvn (ooft) goes wild on the kit, and this band has no lack of passion, as mentioned in our previous review.

Time for the corpse-paint-wearing elephant in the room. Endless features, not one, but two ballads. First, halfway through the album with “Wither” and then the final track “Endless//Loveless”. The former is a heartfelt dirge for Hoover’s lost grandparents, with an adorable intro and outro soundbite from them that genuinely elevates the track. The track is a solid, if uninspired ballad that features decent cleans from Hoover and bassist Josh Bearden that may genuinely induce tears for those with close relations to lost loved ones. “Endless//Loveless” is the opposite. A hangnail of a track that didn’t even need to end up on the album, killing the finale after a string of Endless’ best tracks (”Bleak,” “Dread,” and “A World Away”) and featuring some truly cliché lyrics like “loving you is like holding onto water.” Lastly, the production is crushed which is disappointing coming from a major lablel. Synths drown out riffs frequently, and at this point, it seems to be a genre standard.

With Ov Sulfur’s sophomore album, they come back tighter, more focused, and better for it. Despite this, no amount of struggling will free them of the mire that is blackened deathcore. The strict adherence to genre trappings hangs like an albatross around the neck of a band that clearly wants to be making more emotionally driven, melodic music. With Endless, you get a refined, tightly played record that exemplifies the better parts of the genre, but it is so worn out that you may find yourself moving on before you get past the tired, cliche intro. Ov Sulfur have crafted an infinitely better album in Endless, but it is made for the adherents of the genre, and little else.

Rating: Mixed
DR: 4 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Century Media
Websites: facebook.com/ovsulfur | instagram.com/ovsulfur
Releases Worldwide: January 16th, 2026