Saunders
Yes, folks and loyal AMG readers and devotees, another year is nearly done and dusted. As per tradition, the time has come to share reflections and recommendations from another eventful year. Personally, 2025 threw down some rough moments and life challenges, navigating a spike in anxiety-driven mental and physical health concerns. Previously, I have mentioned how much AMG has grounded me over the years, keeping my focus and motivation on track when other parts of life navigate turbulence, stress, or uncertainty. This has proven especially pivotal this year and highlights the importance of contributing in some small way to this amazing blog and how much it means to me.
Highlights… After a few lean years post-pandemic on the gig front, as an avid concertgoer, 2025 proved productive for getting my mojo back for live music. I caught Karnivool in action for the first time in over a decade, ripping through infectious prog metal anthems and impressive new jams from their highly anticipated album set to drop in early 2026. An unexpected gig was a solo show in my hometown from none other than former Fear Factory legend Burton C Bell, performing in a local dive venue. Ploughing through career classics and some solo material, the setlist offered up gems like “Drive Boy Shooting,” “Scapegoat,” “Scumgrief,” and “Replica.” It was a nostalgic joy.
Meanwhile, after years of stubbornly jaded neglect, I finally bit the bullet and witnessed Metallica live. Probably a couple of decades too late, however, as an impressionable young’un raised on early Metallica, it was a cool experience to finally see the aging juggernaut in a stadium setting that will remain in the memory bank for years to come. A couple of days later, I once again caught the mighty Opeth at the iconic Sydney Opera House with quality support from Caligula’s Horse, before rounding out the year by finally seeing Dying Fetus live in an extra beefy triple bill including Ashen and 200 Stab Wounds. Good times indeed….
Big thanks to everyone for keeping this mighty blog running and cogs turning. From the ever-growing readership and awesome AMG community, through the entire, recently beefed-up writing crew, inspiring colleagues and all-around awesome people, to the higher powers (Steel Druhm, Angry Metal Guy, Sentynel, Doc Grier, and all the other editors) for their extra behind-the-scenes work whipping us into line. Cheers all to a safe, happy, and healthy 2026.
#ish: Green Carnation // A Dark Poem Part I: The Shores of Melancholia – After being mesmerized by Green Carnation’s timeless opus Light of Day, Day of Darkness many years ago, I never really expanded my listening beyond that widely regarded masterpiece. Then comeback album Leaves of Yesteryear dropped in 2020 and turned me from a casual listener into an avid fan of their work. A Dark Poem Part I: The Shores of Melancholia signals a long-awaited return and the first part of a planned trilogy from the seasoned Norwegian veterans of classy, mood-driven progressive metal. Admittedly, this album didn’t reach the dizzying heights or quite gain the traction of its predecessor. Nor does it disappoint, adding another finely crafted chapter in Green Carnation’s enduring career, while building excitement for the two albums to complete the trilogy. Meticulously crafted and chock full of emotive, silky, and delightfully catchy gems, A Dark Poem Part I: The Shores of Melancholia is another top-shelf prog metal jam.
#10. Caustic Wound // Grinding Mechanism of Torment – Back in 2020, Seattle’s Caustic Wound emerged from the muck and unleashed a gnarly ball of unvarnished deathgrind rage courtesy of debut, Death Posture. Due to the endearing old school charms and brawling, stomping attack, Death Posture left a lasting impression, amping anticipation for their long-awaited return on sophomore slab, Grinding Mechanism of Torment. Though a little less refined and losing a smidgen of the debut’s grimy charm, Caustic Wound otherwise pounded out wickedly crunchy, buzzsawing deathgrind with violent glee, infectiousness, and subtle variety to keep you coming back for more. The album’s tight construction and propulsive performances deftly harness the controlled chaos and blasty, groove-laced fun, as the likes of “Drone Terror,” “Advanced Killing Methods,” and “Blood Battery” attest.
#9. Phantom Spell // Heather & Hearth – One of the purest and nostalgia-driven prog releases of 2025, the sophomore album from Seven Sisters singer/guitarist Kyle McNeill was a progtastic delight, wielding old-timey, ’70s prog feels with a transportive, fantastical flair. Phantom Spell crafted a timeless, epic yet remarkably fresh experience, despite the obvious devotion to progressive rock legends and eras of the past. Dueling guitar leads, rollicking organ, and tight, expressive rhythms shine across a superbly performed and produced opus. For all the musical smarts, clever progressive arrangements, and technical showmanship, McNeill’s songwriting and powerful vocals are spot on, resulting in a nuanced though hugely hooky and focused collection, infused with folk and classic heavy metal elements, complementing the classic progressive rock core. Bookended by two spectacular epics (‘The Autumn Citadel” and stunning, heart-wrenching melodies of the closing title track), Heather & Hearth is equally compelling in its more compact, punchy forms (“‘Evil Hand,” “Siren Song”).
#8. Barren Path // Grieving – Grind delivered big time in 2025, with numerous high-quality releases to absorb. None quite delivered the hammer blow impact of the debut LP from Barren Path, featuring Gridlink alumni, including grind shredding extraordinaire Takafumi Matsubara. It’s amazing what can be achieved in a manic thirteen minutes of calculated mayhem and precision deathgrind madness. Barren Path shares traits with Gridlink’s razor-sharp precision and abrasive intensity; however, it refuses to be pigeonholed or cast into the shadows of the Gridlink legacy. Beefy production, coupled with a prominent death metal influence, riffs to burn, gripping performances, and techy edge, Grieving loudly announced Barren Path as the next innovative heavy hitter to take the grind scene by storm. All too brief if utterly compelling, I’m excited to see what this elite line-up can cook up next as they set about creating their own unmatched legacy.
#7. Changeling // Changeling – For the second time in my 2025 top ten, an album surpasses the hour-length mark, often questionable territory as far as optimal album length. The prolific Tom Geldschläger (aka Fountainhead) hired an army of high-profile musicians and contributors to bring his elaborate progressive death metal vision to vibrant life with an overstuffed and incredibly entertaining, wildly ambitious debut opus. Amongst the core lineup, Morean (Alkaloid, Dark Fortress) lends his unique vocals, Virvum’s Arran McSporran features on fretless bass, and powerhouse Mike Keller (ex-Fear Factory, Raven, Malignancy) mans the kit, while a stack of instruments, choirs, and guest musicians add further dimensions and intricacies to the color palette. Changeling is guilty of overreaching on occasions, and the whole thing is an overstimulating example of excess. And though far from perfect, Changeling is nevertheless an astonishingly complex, progressive, and technical marvel. Its bombastic, adventurous gallop, slick songcraft, earwormy hook,s and otherworldly melodies conjure up a hugely inventive and endlessly fun platter.
#6. Turian // Blood Quantum Blues – Generally, I tread carefully from anything core-related in the realms of hardcore, metalcore, and deathcore. I am not opposed to each style, but usually it takes a certain something to win me over. Another winning recommendation from the flippered one, Blood Quantum Blues, the third LP from Seattle metallic hardcore merchants Turian, found the band toying and upending their sound in wonderfully creative and ambitious fashion. Like other genre-busting albums, such as The Shape of Punk to Come and Miss Machine, Turian fuck with the conventions of their metallic hardcore. Shattering boundaries by lacing their signature sound with sharply integrated elements of rock, electronics, sludge, and grind, whipped into a grooving, raw smackdown and addictive delight, Turian pulls no punches and pushes their songwriting creativity to the limit. The line-up nails the newfound songwriting versatility through tight, explosive performances, topped by the raw intensity and charismatic vocals of Vern Metztli-Moon, who channels deeply personal, trauma-informed reflections of her Native American heritage, with vigor and rage.
#5. Retromorphosis // Psalmus Mortis – Carrying on the timeless legacy of legendary Swedish tech death wrecking crew Spawn of Possession, Retromorphosis emerged featuring the bulk of the SoP line-up and a rejuvenated sound, both familiar and energized enough to craft a new chapter of tech death excellence. Herein lies the key to the album’s success. SoP was such a special and unique entity in the tech death field. Retromorphosis pulls the signature songwriting components and twists and contorts them into their own slick interpretation, without simply rehashing past glories. Psalmus Mortis proved to have significant staying power since dropping early in the year, even amidst a pretty stacked year for quality death and tech death albums. Retromorphosis decorate their knotty, fluid and aggressive compositions with tasteful synth work, symphonic flourishes and bedazzling solos, whether charting smartly progressive, labyrinthine terrain (“The Tree,” “Machine”), and thrashy, warped tech death (“Aunt Christie’s Will,” “Vanished,” “Retromorphosis”).
#4. Terror Corpse // Ash Eclipses Flesh – After already delivering a killer grind opus earlier in the year, Terror Corpse got the creative juices flowing again in dropping a full-length debut of immense power and old school grit. Featuring a power-packed lineup featuring past and present members of acts including Malignant Altar, Oceans of Slumber, Necrofier, and Insect Warfare, Terror Corpse comes seasoned with death metal wisdom and experience. Despite a lack of innovation, Terror Corpse winds back the clock and transcends the typical old school death metal hordes. Injecting venomous strains of grind, death-doom, sinister atmospheres, and gut-churning brutality into beefy, riff-driven songs that fondly recall death metal’s glory days, Terror Corpse forge ahead into the here and now with their own character and inspired songwriting. Topped by a bevy of instantly gratifying, oozing riffs and Dobber Beverly’s elite drumming, Ash Eclipses Flesh is a gripping old school death experience.
#3. Dax Riggs // 7 Songs For Spiders – The return of Dax Riggs, and by extension the most unexpected re-emergence of the legendary Acid Bath, were surely two of the most heartwarming music moments of 2025. As a longtime devotee of both Dax and Acid Bath, I had begun worrying that Dax’s music-making days had passed as he slunk into the background and essentially dropped off the radar for the best part of fifteen years. While holding out slim hope Acid Bath will decide to cross our shores, I am stoked Dax and crew are getting the long-overdue credit and exposure they deserve. Though not strictly metal, Dax’s comeback album, and first since 2010’s Say Goodnight to the World, marks a triumphant and warm, comforting return from an underground icon. 7 Songs for Spiders delivered the goods, as Dax and friends dropped an album with a familiar, nostalgic feel that refuses to rest on its laurels. Riggs’ defining vocals sound as vital and deliciously smoky as ever, weaving signature morbid tales, deadly hooks, and earworm melodies through subdued yet deceptively hefty and bluesy folk-doom ditties.
#2. Messa // The Spin – It would be an oversimplification to describe Messa’s fourth LP as a streamlined version of the enigmatic Italian band’s doom-centric formula. Each album has impressed in its own unique way, adding intoxicating twists and charm to continually evolve and refresh their sound. The Spin carries over elements of their past works and character-defining idiosyncrasies, yet feels like Messa’s most laser-focused, accessible, and direct album to date, and also one of their best. While I’ve enjoyed each of the band’s prior works, The Spin is the band’s most efficient and instantly gratifying, and addictive album. Easily Messa’s shortest opus, The Spin, uncorks killer tune after tune. Sumptuous melodies and rich textures color blockbuster doom bangers (“At Races,” “Fire on the Roof”), residing alongside atmospheric, jazz-dappled charmers (“The Dress”), bluesy, emotive slow burners (“Immolation”), and brooding, psych-tinged doom (“Thicker Blood”).
#1. Tómarúm // Beyond Obsidian Euphoria – Weirdly enough, my number one picks often don’t materialize as obviously as one might expect. This has largely been a trend throughout my tenure here at Angry Metal Guy. In all honesty, any of the top three could have been interchangeable in the top spot, but I reserved top honors for the spectacular second LP from Atlanta band Tómarúm. All the more surprising due to sleeping on their well-received debut, Beyond Obsidian Euphoria smacked me upside the cranium with an explosion of creativity and ambitious songcraft, encompassing elements of progressive black, melodic death, and tech death bombast. It’s an overly ambitious, sometimes slightly messy masterwork. Yet the eye-watering 68 minutes largely warrant its exhaustive length. Sure, shrewd editing here and there may have tightened things up. However, the whole experience is so consistently gripping and superbly written and performed that minor quibbles are squashed well below the surface. This fully loaded, immersive masterwork sparkles and scorches through tremendously crafted, multi-faceted compositions, including standout epics, “Shallow Ecstasy,” “Shed This Erroneous Skin,” and “Silver, Ashen Tears,” nestled harmoniously against the blunt force discordance of ‘Blood Mirage,” and compact progressive fireworks of closer “Becoming the Stone Icon (Obsidian Reprise).”
Honorable Mentions:
Disappointment o’ the Year:
Sadly, we lost a number of metal legends in 2025, headlined by three individual legends that had a profound impact on me over the years. There will never be a larger-than-life frontman/metal icon like Ozzy Osbourne. While his demise was not unexpected, it left a huge void and an incredible legacy never to be matched. At the Gates and all-around iconic Swedish vocalist Tomas Lindberg sadly passed away following a horrible illness, while former Mastodon guitarist/vocalist Brent Hinds tragically passed in a motor vehicle accident. Rest in Peace legends….
Non-Heavy Picks (snapshot):
Song o’ the Year:
Messa – “Fire on the Roof” – Narrowing down a definitive song o’ the year candidate is often a futile task. Twenty-twenty-five was no exception. Rather than overthink or analyze the situation, I locked in one of the year’s most addictive, replayable gems from Messa’s stunning fourth LP, The Spin.
Dear Hollow
Welcome to the end of 2025! We at AMG hope the year has been kind to you—that your lives are filled with love, your hearts with joy, and our world with peace. I hope that you have found your people and have those you can lean on. If we have ever given you a voice, a platform, or just love and support when you need it, then we have done our jobs.
It feels redundant to say that this year has been a roller coaster, but 2025 pulled no punches. In May, the Hollow household welcomed a second kiddo, a boy, into the fold. He is a supremely easy, endlessly happy little guy, but the stresses of parenthood—and especially of two kids—are a daily lesson of “bend, don’t break.” Our daughter is now four, and learns new things and says sassy things day in and day out, enjoying gymnastics and dancing, and singing around the house for fun.
My reviewing has remained steady this year, if not a little less than the usual. Between parenting two kids, working as a high school English teacher to increasingly apathetic kids, working on a noir crime novel that has paid dividends in complexity (and all the noir jazz my ears can handle),1 continuing to unpack my upbringing and trauma and how they all have affected my views on family, relationships, and self-love, you can imagine how wild each day has been. But I’ve somehow managed it, and the end of the year is here to celebrate it.
Special shout-outs to those who have been instrumental in my journey this year: the ineffable and tireless dream team of Steel Druhm and Angry Metal Guy, the genre-confusing Dolphin Whisperer, my fellow Whitechapel apologists Iceberg and Alekhines Gun, and those who have been supportive all year (Thus Spoke, Killjoy, and Mystikus Hugebeard). Couldn’t have done it without y’all.
To the metal!
#ish. Kalaveraztekah // Nikan Axkan – Subject of a rollicking Rodeö, Mexico’s Kalaveraztekah’s balance of cosmic Aztec atmosphere and cutthroat death metal is sublime. Riffs for days balanced by an experimental madness that conjures cosmic destruction and rebirth, Nikan Axkan recalls the antics of Hell:on, folk influence only sharpens its attack and injects an atmosphere of foreboding. Refusing both gimmick and total immersion, Nikan Axkan is riffy, fun, and evocative, made for a mosh-pit and a soundtrack for the destruction of the Five Suns.
#10. La Torture des Ténèbres // Episode VIII – Revenge of Unfailing Valor – If you’re like MalteBrigge, you’ll probably end up with tinnitus and a sprained shoulder once Episode VIII kicks in, but Ottawa one-woman raw black metal/noise outfit La Torture des Ténèbres returns to the bleak space-faring atompunk of its 2016 debuts alongsdie the dystopic rage that pervades more recent efforts – moments of peace adding dimension and texture. La Torture des Ténèbres is about as ambitious as raw black metal can get.
#9. Imperial Triumphant // Goldstar – Goldstar is Imperial Triumphant’s most accessible album, the NYC trio’s signature brand of death/black and jazz funneled into a straightforward art-deco-themed brutalizing. It’s no less adventurous, always punishing, and will stay with you long after your ears stop ringing from the sound of New York City taxis and decadent skyscrapers displayed in extreme metal format: more straightforward, more melodic. While its recent predecessors are an affluent nightlife, Goldstar offers a sunbathed New York City.
#8. Howling Giant // Crucible & Ruin – Nashville’s stoner outfit Howling Giant reconciles the melodies and riffs, exploratory songwriting, and mammoth hooks gathering in each movement of Crucible & Ruin. Featuring hints of knuckleheaded sludge and proggy chord progressions, it’s an album that keeps your attention for forty-eight minutes. New member Adrian Zambrano offers more atmosphere and layers of guitar riffs and melodies to go with the surefire dichotomy of instrumental heft and vocal ethereality. Crucible & Ruin is an experience of fun, subtlety, and above all, riffs.
#7. Geese // Getting Killed – Perhaps the vocals of NYC’s Geese don’t bother me because of Cameron Winters’ similarity to singer/songwriter John Mark McMillan,2 so the album’s sonic anxiety of noise rock, post-punk, country, and blues that creep in and out like lovers who never stay does not bother me. Getting Killed feels viciously aggressive, venomously satirical, and fluid and elastic in its humble movements. Geese are overrated Pitchfork-bait, sure, but an overrated hill to get killed upon regardless.
#6. Structure // Heritage – Steel Druhm’s the real masochist for low and slow, but the balance of sad death/doom and devastating funeral doom in Netherland’s Structure is special. The guitar work in the mammoth riffs, melodic leads, and climactic solos has just a much of a voice to contribute as Pim Blankenstein’s formidable roars—as if griever and grieved converse in both melancholy and rage. Heritage is Structure paying homage to doom metal’s contemplation while paying its dues in death metal’s viciousness – pure devastation.
#5. Patristic // Catechesis – Catechesis is born out of the “impending shadow of the cross.” As tumultuous as the fall of the Roman Empire and the rise of the church and pagan rebellion, the black/death of Rome’s Patristic assaults the ears with tension, fury, and reverence. The first act is the holy war, a rationalization of steel and zealotry, while the second is the way the soldier tells it to his children, the lessons and cautions borne of blind faith and its devastation. Cathechesis is not only fiery sermons and unending blasphemy, but regret and meditation.
#4. In Mourning // The Immortal – I’ve loved Sweden’s In Mourning since their 2010 album Monolith: balancing chuggy guitars, progressive songwriting, and the slightest hints of doom (such as in 2008’s Shrouded Divine). The Immortal is an album that balances The Bleeding Veil’s darker elements, Garden of Storms’ signature melody, and The Weight of Oceans’ iconic patience. The Immortal offers yearning melodies and chords alongside vicious riffs, and melodeath has never sounded so good.
#3. Yellow Eyes // Confusion Gate – New York’s Yellow Eyes’ Confusion Gate conveys a black metal place better than most, an environment teeming with life. Like the Romantic Sublime, it maintains a crystalline beauty, like a light scattering through broken glass, and a madness born of terror—at the source of the light. Here is the crux of it, from poet Rainer Maria Rilke’s “The First Elegy”;
Who, if I cried out, would hear me among the Angels’
Orders? and even if one of them pressed me
suddenly to his heart: I’d be consumed
in his more potent being. For beauty is nothing
but the beginning of terror, which we can still barely endure,
and while we stand in wonder it coolly disdains
to destroy us. Every Angel is terrifying.
#2. Igorrr // Amen – Gautier Serre’s work with Igorrr has rarely felt bad, but Amen evolves it from his typical standard. You get the typical apeshit antics in the midsection, but a full band fleshes out the jewel-encrusted skeleton for a fully, nearly spiritual experience. Minimalist compositions build upon a breakbeat before cracking into a full choir and death metal experience, while an overwhelming onslaught of insanity reminds us who exactly we’re listening to. Amen is hella fun, as expected, but also something we can take seriously.
#1. Primitive Man // Observance – Primitive Man is the heaviest band on the planet. While I’ve appreciated the Denver trio’s pitch-black approach to death metal laced with noise, doom, and sludge—from afar—Observance booked me in with upbeat tempos and a surprising melody. It swallows you whole like any good Primitive Man album ought to, but the devotion to deteriorating songwriting and weaponized noise. The atmospheric death/sludge counterpart to the riffs of Warcrab, for instance, Primitive Man offers a sound like no other—and it’s the best of the year.
Honorable Mentions:
Songs o’ the Year:
Surprises o’ the Year
Disappointments o’ the Year
Dolphin Whisperer
Thus Spoke and I go way back. In fact, after our successful graduation from the same n00b class and into our first list season as full article writers, we had imagined that us two as a listing pair would produce a lethal and novel whiplash.1 So welcome to the bottom (or top) half of this eclectic endeavor that’s sure to leave you with thirty-some-odd unique albums to revisit or ignore or whatever it is you do with our strong and word-riddled opinions.
Now, the keen reader may notice I’ve had a bit of a productivity drop-off since about June. Well, that’s cause my wife gave birth to The Dolphlet, first of his name, and that’s kind of a lot of work, as I’m finding out. Baby comes first, as it goes. But I squeaked out a few important things, including a Coroner review that the unwashed masses claimed didn’t jerk Tommy Baron and co. as full of glee as it should have. I did miss other important things, like several of my list items.2. And I sincerely apologize to the following bands and offer them words of condolence or, something like that, based upon their individual situation: Bonginator, you should be glad I dropped the ball, stop it with the lame interludes; and count your blessings, Hell Ever After, thrash doesn’t need to be a musical; Species, you did thrash right though and I’m happy that others enjoyed you even more; Moths, and more specifically bassist Weslie Negron, I’m sorry that I took on your interview when my son was one month old and my brain was fried—your album rocks and you put in so much work to make Moths special. And lastly, to all the classics, I had grand plans to YMIO because I thought my brain could make that work—haha.3
Angry Metal Guy, however, remains home for me. You, dear readers, are a part of that love and drive that keep me here. Sometimes, I may only be able to conjure a half-funny joke in the comments section—you laugh (let me believe that) and give it two to five likes. Others, I may hype the heck out of a promising underground act until one of my trusted colleagues tells me “Dolph, that’s enough already, I’ll review it, sheesh.”—you liked it probably more than I did anyway. You see, for every word of bleeding hyperbole that we scribble, two sets of eyes may walk away enraptured. When you’re dealing with artists who have anywhere from sub-100 to 30004 listeners on the popularity engine of Spotify, every set counts. Every purchase on Bandcamp or Ampwall counts. Every stream on Tidal or some other competitor counts. Even your damn scrobble on last.fm counts if you’re nerdy enough for that. So sappy as it may seem, along with the herding efforts of Steel and occasionally The Big Dr. AMG Man Himself, you all give life to the bands in this wonderful modern metal scene. Hails!!
#ish. Messa // The Spin – I can’t rid myself of the power that a soaring bluesy lick and a smoky siren voice hold, no matter how I try. Burned into my head are The Spin’s glassy chorused-out chorus escalations. Drenched into the cones of my crackling car speakers are the synth throbs of certified shakers “Fire on the Roof” and “Thicker Blood.” Turn up the volume and turn down the lights, Messa has come to steal attention with yet another platter of throwback creativity.
#10. Quadvium // Tetradōm – Steve DiGiorgio and Jeroen Paul Thesseling stand at the altar of supreme metal bassists in my own personal head canon. They’d helm yours too if you were familiar with the span of their collective talents across acts like Death, Sadus, Autopsy, (DiGiorgio), and Pestilence, Obscura, Sadist (Thesseling). Knowing all this, they decided to make an album together. And in their refinement as performers, they managed to make a supergroup two-bass project more than just a thumpy wankfest. Full of diverse and rich tones, modern and proggy jitteriness, and a rounded, jazz fusion-leaning taste for exploration, Tetradōm provides an exciting notch in the weathered belt of these legends. I don’t know where Quadvium goes next after this, but I hope that it’s anything but dormant.
#9. Scardust // Souls – Every time I hear the introductory stumble of “Long Forgotten Song,” I fall immediately into the spastic and serenading world that Scardust crafts with their hypermelodic, histrionic, and confident progressive metal attitude. Central to this success remains the peerless Noa Gruman, whose every melody lands with honey-slathered tack and sing-a-long inspiration, despite my voice being a far, far cry away from the searing soprano wail that functions as a mic-drop crescendo as often as it needs to. Behind her, though, lies one of modern prog’s most nimble rhythm sections, imbuing even ballads like “Dazzling Darkness” and “Searing Echoes” with a bass-popping and hi-hat chattering clamor that places Souls in a league of its own. Also, Ross Jennings of Haken sounds better here than he has with Haken since The Mountain.
#8. Chiasma // Reaches – Chiasma possesses the unique ability to blend in with the modern paradigm of accessible melody prog in the lane of a band like Tesseract without conforming to its most djentrified tendencies. Rather, floating in its own swirl of Cynic-coded riffage and angelic, layered vocal excess, Reaches explodes with atmosphere and propulsive riff alike. In Katie Thompson’s nimble serenades rests a voice imbued with both a fluttering prowess and an aching heart. And in this sorrow—wrapped in the brightness of bleeping electronic backings, flipping virtuosic guitar runs, and singular voice—a yearning and healing takes place in fervent and fluorescent splendor.
#7. Dawnwalker // The Between – Just when I thought Dawnwalker didn’t have any more surprises left in their bag of tricks that seem tailor-made for my enjoyment,5 these sneaky Brits went and pulled out the one-long-song album. Continuing to live in the space of esoteric philosophy set forth in The Unknowing last year, Dawnwalker collects moods from all their previous works—the melancholy of isolation from In Rooms, the vocal aggression from Human Ruins, a sonic palette even grander in scope than Ages—to explore thoughts surrounding death. In lush construction, plaintive discourse, and time-bending magic, The Between breathes as a meditation bookended by heavy chiming bells—a journey that feels longer than its svelte 30-ish minute runtime but with none of the fatigue its gargantuan ask threatens. 6
#6. Gorycz // Zasypia – It’s a shame that Gorycz isn’t a household name, as their mystical, groovy approach to atmospheric and retching black metal sits among my favorites in the genre as a whole. Zasypia, as part three of a trilogy, tells a tale of despair through a warping pedalboard light on traditional distortion, shrieking throat on the edge of coherence,7 and dancing kit full of jazzy aplomb. In the space that lives between recursive and developing refrains, terror lurks. But in the Gorycz tattered exhale hangs a reverence for the beauty that can emerge from destruction and grieving. Feel every amplified string creak as you fall deeper into this devastating world.
#5. Lychgate // Precipice – You may be aware that this album was released on the 19th of December, a full two days after we were supposed to turn in these lists. Knowing that, I made sure I beat Precipice to the punch of garbage time list upheaval by listening to it, well, before that. In turn, Lychgate made sure that they’d make this late-season blooming count. With the death-thrash spirit of an early Morbid Angel crashing through low-end organ harmony and colliding with Holdsworthian alien guitar bleating, Precipice holds back neither on its urge to wander in arcane atmosphere nor on its urge to churn bodies in kinetic wonder. As another writer (whose name I can’t remember) said, Precipice ensnares by “…oscillating between Zappa’s Jazz from Hell and unearthly, pit-scorching acrobatics.” I couldn’t have put it better myself.8
#4. Barren Path // Grieving – The best grindcore album of the decade so far would come from the manic attack of Gridlink sans Jon Chang. Absent his terrifying shriek, Matsubara’s guitar scatter weighs heavier, Fajarado’s lightning snare rolls clang sharper, all against song lengths that inhabit the true short-form tradition of extreme brevity. The truth is, I’ve spent longer than the album’s length trying to convey its intensity and prowess, so just go and listen to it already. I’ll wait here. No, seriously, do it.
#3. Turian // Blood Quantum Blues – So very rare is the album that aligns like a key to a lock of a heart torn by generational angst. An eloquence exists in the disparity between Turian’s stark societal observations punctuated by raw emotional interjections of “FUCK”. I haven’t bothered to count the instances that this linguistic escalation occurs, but I guarantee that there are more fucks per stanza on Blood Quantum Blues than your favorite album this year. And, after you’ve become addicted to its overdriven noise rock-meets-hardcore-meets-industrial madness, you’ll know every single one as you shout along its contemptuous tales of cultural erasure. Indians don’t vanish, and neither will my love for every riff, every breakdown, and every tirade of Blood Quantum Blues.
#2. Changeling // Changeling – Tom “Fountainhead” Geldschläger poured everything into Changeling. Arranging over thirty performers across Changeling’s seems Sisyphean in scope, but Geldschläger persevered. Through peerless fretless wailings, every instrument under the sun follows well-developed motifs, and a pure love for metal, Changeling expresses nostalgia and novelty in its every loaded nook and cranny. And behind each moment of dense and exuberant songcraft, Geldschläger has tinkered to deliver an experience that feels carved over a lifetime. On top of all of that, Geldschläger is also a true guitar wizard—he zigs and zags and twists and twirls where others wear a scale to death. Like a classic novel or movie, Changeling reveals its worth both in immediate, jaw-dropping action and deep, attention-stealing detail. Geldschläger even put together a Dolby Atmos mix for the album and held listening parties in Berlin. I hear they’re wonderful. Come to California, Tom!
#1. Maud the Moth // The Distaff – When we seek art, we seek bravery and freedom of expression. And in the music that we seek in a refuge like Angry Metal guy, we often find these qualities expressed in emotional theme, in raw, sonic aggression, or in sweeping guitar-led grandeur. Woven from a different base cloth, Maud the Moth on paper does not fit that mold. Amaya López-Carromero wields, instead, a piano and scrawled diary pages. She, too, has pain, the same as any human who has encountered a world unforgiving to a life that wishes to live in a divergent path. And like the artists we value—or rather, like the artists I value—Amaya presents her vision of this struggle with focused and expanding melodic lines, crushing and crying crescendos, and an earnestness that compels its audience to surrender for a moment to a world created by these musical ideas. When your sadness comes, it won’t weep in blacks and ivories the way that The Distaff does. But you can pop it on and pretend for its run that its triumph will transfer from your ears to the very center of your tingling chest.
Honorable Mentions:
Disappointments o’ the Year:
Songs o’ the Year:
Why give you one when I can give you twenty-seven? Why twenty-seven? That’s my secret. Now, I’ve talked enough. Go out there and enjoy some music, friends. And enjoy this photo of my dogs eating. And the Dolphlet admiring them!
Thus Spoke
I’ve been blindsided by the year’s end again, and now have to find some interesting things to say about 2025. Other than the fact that I turned 3010, my main personal Thing ov Significance is that I managed to land myself a new job, which I’ll start in the new year.11 Don’t worry, though, I won’t be girl-bossing too hard to have time for AMG.
Musically, 2025 has been a (small) step down from 2024 for me, although this could just be due to my attention deficit. I’ve had my finger less firmly on the pulse in the last six months, such that several albums, by artists I like, many on this list, either took me completely by surprise on release day, or crossed my radar barely any sooner, thanks to me actually checking Slack for once. I don’t have any well-defined excuse for this outside of plain old burnout plus terrible organization. On the other hand, the fact that I didn’t review most of my favorite records this year means that I can bat away criticisms of self-indulgence by having a year-end list mostly comprised of albums I didn’t write about. One thing I am happy to have achieved this year is running my first AMG Ranking piece on Panopticon. It might be the most verbose and least exciting of its kind for the majority of site readers, but being forced to immerse myself that extensively in the discography of an artist I love was very cool (albeit intense).
Speaking of my own erratic presence at HQ, leads me on to the hiatus (official or not) of several wonderful people among the staff, particularly my list-buddy Maddog, whom I miss very much. They all have good reasons, and I support them immensely, even if it means fewer of their excellent reviews. Fortunately, we’ve also welcomed many newcomers to our ranks who can pick up my slack in their stead, and whose reviews help me improve my own writing whilst also appending to the endless list of Things I Must Listen To.
As my extensive yapping here shows, my ability to meet a word count hasn’t improved much. Before finally moving on to the list, I’ll take the chance to reiterate my gratitude for everyone reading this, and some people who might not be. Thank you to all the staff for collectively making this all possible, and giving me the opportunity to speak about music and for people—you guys—to actually read it. Thank you for reading. Even if our tastes are completely opposed and you think I’m wrong about everything, I’m glad you’re here.
Now for the bit people actually care about.
#ish. Panopticon // Songs of Hiraeth – Quietly12 released alongside Laurentian Blue, Songs of Hiraeth is a collection of songs composed between 2009-2011 that never saw the light of day. In it, you can hear the incredible development of Panopticon’s signature emotionally swelling black metal style in this period, and this record, like virtually all of them, as I repeated in my ranking blurbs, is gorgeously, absorbingly heartfelt and powerful. Unlike you might expect, it actually increases in intensity as it progresses (for me), with the final trifecta of “The End is Drawing Near,” “A Letter,” and “The Eulogy” all gunning for my Songs o’ the Year playlist with first devastating rage and fury, then heartbroken solemnity and sublime melody throughout. I guess it’s not fully in the list purely because it’s not a ‘proper’ new release, or whatever.
#10. Grima // Nightside – It could have been easy to forget about Grima, given its dropping right on the cusp of the stacked Spring release season we had this year, and the fact that I didn’t instantly mark it down for a TYMHM as with Clouds. But I didn’t forget. Despite their wintry aesthetic, Grima’s music warms my heart with folky magic and ardent blackened blizzards. Nightside is no exception, its warmth coming this time from a renewed emphasis on the atmosphere and bayan after the higher energies of Frostbitten. I love intense, harsh, frosty black metal, and I love how Grima do it (“Impending Death Premonition,” “Where We are Lost”). But what I love most of all about Grima is how they pair that with their folky tendencies, and the way—as Sharky pointed out—Vilhelm’s rasps graze over it all. This culminates, for me, in the more mournful and urgent tone of several tracks on Nightside, where intense moments still feel dreamlike (“The Nightside”), and vocals breathe like ghostly whispers (“Mist and Fog”). It’s not my favorite Grima record (that’s probably Rotten Garden), but being a Grima record at all, given their caliber, means it’s bloody great and has to be on my list.
#9. Bianca // Bianca – Here’s an excellent example of a record I very likely would never have heard were it not for the AMG writer community. And wow, am I grateful I did. Ken‘s description alone caught my interest, let alone the tidbit that the project includes two members of another 2025 favorite of mine, Patristic.13 It takes familiar concepts from metal, both post—ethereal atmospheres and haunting singing—and extreme—sky-piercing shrieks, undulating, relentless double-bass, and tangled guitar blizzards—but sounds like nothing else. Even in combining these elements, Bianca stands alone. The coalescence of blackened, doomed, ambient layers is mesmerizing, the pitches upward into mania, and lapses back into mournful mystique, captivating. Throat-gripping furor arrests me more inextricably than almost anything else this year (“Abysmal,” “Nachthexe”), and transcendent melodies forged from this black fire lift me fully out of my body (“Abysmal,” “Todestrieb”). I’ve been in love since.
#8. Der Weg Einer Freiheit // Innern – Innern’s influence on me was subtle and insidious. I would just put it on, be absorbed—or be sucked back in periodically, if I was working and not concentrating on it—and suddenly it would end. Then I’d listen to it again. Der Weg Einer Freiheit has been developing their particular intense, dark, atmospheric kind of (post-) black over the last decade or so, and with Innern, it’s approaching an apex. Through endlessly enveloping compositions, filled with fury and urgency (“Marter”) or solemn reflection and introspection (“Eos,” “Forlorn”), that flow seamlessly out of one another, Innern folds you insidiously into its depths. Compelling melodies, dynamic rushing percussion, and here-dramatic, there-soft-spoken vocals, each taking pieces and incorporating trials from Der Weg Einer Freiheit’s career so far, drive the thematic compositional thread through irresistibly. From the anticipatory opening shudders to the ebbing chords at its close, Innern is an experience best taken whole, and one I’ve indulged in countless times to go on this magnetic journey once again.
#7. Paradise Lost // Ascension – I never thought this would land here when first announced. Sure, I like Paradise Lost, but their back-catalog is so mixed (in style, let alone quality), that ‘liking’ them for me comes down to enjoying a handful of their now 17 albums. Even the singles’ being good failed to stir anything more than curiosity, given my experience with intra-album inconsistency. But when Ascension did finally grace my ears in full, it appropriately transcended any doubts and softened my heart towards these doom icons again.14 Paradise Lost were heavy again, melancholic and mopey again—in a cool, atmospheric way—and Ascension just flowed, with grungy aggression and sadboi introspection in perfect equilibrium. This easy, natural duality that characterizes Gothic metal, and Paradise Lost themselves as genre pioneers, when they’re at the top of their game, is exemplified in Ascension. Hopefully, the group can stay on this trajectory for number 18, if that comes.
#6. Clouds // Desprins – I don’t understand how Clouds are as good as they are. I mean this as no insult to the musicians; what stuns me is the depth of pathos, and the consistency with which they deliver it, given the relatively understated and idiosyncratic manner in which they execute it. Their characteristic flute-folk-funeral doom is so ethereally, painfully sad without being overwrought, melodramatic, or crushing. It took my n00bish breath away four years ago, and this year Desprins came and took it again; this time with pieces of my soul attached. The music is just so beautiful—unrelentingly bleak, but beautiful, and Clouds’ balance of the dark and the light through the synths and acoustics, and apathetic spoken-word is exquisite and deeply affecting. These composite melodies, swelling and trilling softly, are transportive for me—particularly “Life Becomes Lifeless,” “Chain Me,” “Sorrowbound,” and “Chasing Ghosts.” Desprins is everything I want funeral doom to be: a prolonged dream-state of melancholy that paradoxically brings me joy.
#5. Deafheaven // Lonely People with Power – I have never been a Deafheaven fan. In all honesty, I’m still not. Lonely People with Power fires me up and fills my soul, while the rest of their discography continues to leave me completely cold. It seems that, briefly departing from metal entirely with Infinite Granite, has matured their sound, adding layers to their edgy blackgaze. Even when indifferent, I never understood the scorn their music generates, and now that I’ve fallen for Lonely People with Power, it makes even less sense. Not only is the way Deafheaven are combining rich, beautiful melodies with—yes—brilliant black metal simply lovely to listen to, slick, seamless, sharp, etc, it’s also distinctive and engrossing. That’s before even getting into how emotionally resonant it is. And it’s not even like this means it can’t be heavy—heck, one of these tracks is on my Heavy Moves Heavy playlist. It’s not ‘cringe’; it’s a phenomenal record and one of the best to release this year.
#4. 1914 // Viribus Unitis – I have always been most moved—emotionally and aesthetically—by 1914’s brand of WWI-themed blackened-death than any other like act. Viribus Unitis somehow outdoes Where Fear and Weapons Meet, and possibly all of the band’s previous efforts, for evocativeness and being straightforward and compelling. From the now hallmark bookends “War In/Out” to frequent samples to lyrics infused with real soldier testimony, Viribus Unitis envelops the listener in this portal to the past through 1914’s most powerful, urgently melodic compositions. Every song is heavy, dramatic, and snappy in just the right amounts, resulting in a series of back-to-back bangers that also occasionally really, really hit home emotionally. “1918 Pt 3: ADE (A duty to escape)” does all the above to perfection and has received an almost embarrassing number of replays in the short time since release. But “1919 (The Home where I Died)” did actually make me cry,15 and its fade into “War Out” is the perfect end to the monumental achievement Viribus Unitis represents.
#3. Patristic // Catechesis – It seems that every year, I review one particular atmospheric-dissonant death metal record which dominates my listening in that subgenre, and instantly secures a year-end list spot. In 2023, Serpent of Old, last year Ulcerate16, and this year Patristic. Catechesis was an immediate, visceral love for me, and not once since June has it left rotation. Sinister and dark, but irresistible in its seamlessly flowing, captivating macro-composition narrated by roars and solemn sermonizing; it ends far too soon. And in addition to being beautifully atmospheric and magnetic in melody and dissonance alike, it stands out for truly insane performances in their own right. Specifically, the drumming, which continues to blow my mind and propels Catechesis from greatness into excellence with hypnotic, intelligent rhythmic interplay. Patristic’s uncanny ability to make extreme, inaccessible music incomprehensibly engrossing and a magnificent expression of its concept are why I can’t stop listening to Catechesis, and why it’s almost the best record of 2025.
#2. Qrixkuor // The Womb of the World – Much like reviewer Kenstrosity, whereas Qrixkuor’s debut Poison Palinopsia rewired my brain with its brilliance, I found follow-up Zoetrope a tad underwhelming. When said sponge began to hint, and then gush unstoppably about the duo’s second full-length, The Womb of the World, which was in his possession, vague hope turned to giddy excitement. Not only the twisted, psychedelic horror of their signature freeform blackened death would await me, but also a full live orchestra. Yet I still don’t think anything could have adequately prepared me for how massive and mad The Womb of the World actually is. With the strings, horns, and piano swooping and crashing about in great surges and falls, Qrixkuor’s already grandiose style fully feels like some tormented classical opus, and it’s utterly magnificent. Things so small as my words can’t do justice to the way the eerie and intense lurching orchestrals, maniacal snarling voices, and cavernous extreme metal combine to create some of the best things I have ever heard, ever. Weirdly memorable and violently compelling despite its monstrosity, I’ve become completely addicted to it since. Ken himself said, it is “a mastapeece for those to whom sanity is immaterial,” when he rightfully deemed it ‘Excellent’. If I must rescind soundness of mind to so esteem The Womb of the World, I will do so gladly.
#1. Cave Sermon // Fragile Wings – Last year, Divine Laughter went from unknown to #5 on my year-end list in about 2 weeks, so when I found out there was a follow-up—thanks to my new Flippered list buddy—I dropped everything.17 My stratospheric expectations were not only met, but they were lifted into outer space. I would fear for Cave Sermon’s ability to deliver in the future, but Fragile Wings itself dismisses any trepidation. So recognizably, uniquely Cave Sermon, it displays a new, more uplifting interpretation of their sound. A commenter pointed out the lack of reference to So Hideous in my review, and in retrospect, I see their point, at least in degree: the two projects are similarly experimental and impressively novel-sounding without actually feeling avant-garde. But there is just something about Cave Sermon that puts them in an entirely different category of genius—for me. Fragile Wings is playful but not silly; it’s complex but memorable, groovy, and fun; it’s dissonant and strange, but it’s organic, harmonious, and digestible. The idea that just one person is behind this18 makes it that much more mind-blowing. At this rate, there could well be another Cave Sermon record next year, and on the current trajectory, it may finally land this fantastic artist the official Iconic status they have always deserved.
Honorable Mentions:
Songs of the Year
Show 18 footnotes
By Thus Spoke
The first eight centuries of the common era were a tumultuous one for Christian theology, played out in the writings of scholars now considered Early Church fathers. The study of this back-and-forth, which eventually resulted in an agreed ‘canon,’ gives Patristic their name. On debut Catechesis, the trio turn to the turbulent and culturally pivotal period that saw the fall of the Roman Empire, and the rise of the once-marginalized religion. The album’s title refers to the practice of Christian instruction imparted upon potential converts—teachings which stemmed from a still-divided root, even as the religion spread and any pretenses to truth conceded to power. This chaos informs Patristic’s music in a way unique to freeform dissonant metal and culminates in a record whose resonance goes beyond the literal echo of its notes.
The seamlessly flowing sermons that comprise Catechesis are both discomfiting and alluring. Churning riffs and undulating waves of percussion, though sinister and often dissonant, mesmerize through hypnotic recurrence, as Patristic sway and lurch between moments of eerie calm, and punishing violence. And the whole evolves gradually through repeated returns to restless drum patterns, and passages of tense atmosphere, cataclysmic blackened-death assaults, and imposing, frightening melody. As with all the best dissonant extreme metal, Catechesis is intense without being totally overwhelming, and beyond this, is haunting in its particular approach to the interplay between spaciousness and crushing density. In this—particularly a disposition towards dark layers of guitar, and a reverberating quality to the vocals (“A Vinculis Soluta II,” “Catechesis I”)—the closest comparison is Verberis,1 though Patristic craft a drama that is very much their own.
Catechesis can and should be seen as one piece; you could say, one instruction, one imparting of sacred knowledge or dogma. Without lyrics, much is hidden, but as the album progresses, one gets the sense of approaching order by means of violence. The grand refrain that first emerges towards the end of “Catechesis II” comes to fruition with yet ominous finality in closer “Catechesis IV,” and this ultimate reprise echoes the subversive creep of themes through Catechesis. The music’s stream allows the ebb and flow of elements to layer, rise, and fade away with grace that borders on predatory, melodies teased in fragmentary glimpses (“A Vinculis Soluta I,” “Catechesis IV”), or their aura turned back from menacing to mournful (“A Vinculis Soluta II” “Catechesis III”). Riffs overlap in uneasy syncopation, hum malevolently, or chime emphatically in a reverberant chorus with rasping and cavernous bellows, and cello2—played in shuddering vibrato3—weaves through the darkness to amplify tension, and eerie beauty (“Vinculis Soluta II,” “Catechesis I,” “Catechesis II”). Driving the whole through union and separation is a current of mesmerizingly fluid and dynamic drumming, which heightens the already portentous atmospheres and pulls you deep into the writhing mass of it all.
The convergence of the many thematic and percussive threads across the album is impressive in its scope and deceptive ease; it is seamless, beautiful, and often frightening. Patristic also achieve the practically unachievable by using spoken word to add powerful gravitas, which increases rather than lessens the song’s impact (“A Vinculis Soluta I,” “A Vinculis Soluta II”). And speaking of impact, the drum performance, courtesy of Sathrath, deserves particular praise for being one of the most insane of its kind I have ever heard.4 It’s impossibly delicate in shivering cymbal taps, lethally fast in split-second rollovers and fills, and ruthless in its sharp, brutal cascades of double-bass. Everything, drums included, is produced perfectly to allow the convulsing lows to reflect and resonate in a cavernous, immersive portal of grinding guitar and bellowing howls, and the stalking highs dip chillingly below and above its surface.
With such immensity, it’s easy to see how Patristic got a signing with Willowtip so soon; I struggle to believe that these musicians have been playing together for less than five years. So arresting is Catechesis, so layered and immersive, that it threatens to overshadow all other extreme metal this year—if not all metal, period. This is a teaching that all acolytes of the dark and dissonant, and hell, maybe even the crucified Lord, need to hear.
Rating: Excellent
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Willowtip
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: June 20th, 2025
#2025 #45 #BlackMetal #BlackenedDeathMetal #Catechesis #DeathMetal #DissonantDeathMetal #ItalianMetal #Jun25 #Patristic #Review #Reviews #Ulcerate #Verberis #WillowtipRecords
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#MetalInjection
PATRISTIC Streams Miserable New Single "A Vinculis Soluta I"
https://metalinjection.net/new-music/patristic-streams-miserable-new-single-a-vinculis-soluta-i
#Patristic #VinculisSolutaI #Catechesis #Kennelty #Willowtip #Morabito #Gorrini #Zech #Scapinello #Novakova
"PATRISTIC THEOLOGY COURSE: Story and Doctrine of the Church"
Sunday afternoon with a great book on the round!
So interested in the origins of the Christian Doctrine of the Primitive Church. 400+ to run on!
#Books #BooksReading #BooksWorthReading #Reading #Patristic #Theology #History
#CfP for the topical issue "Gendered #Allegories: #Origen of Alexandria and the Representation of the #Feminine in #Patristic #Literature" of the journal "Open #Theology".
🗓️Deadline for Articles: April 30, 2024
📌Further Information:
https://avldigital.de/de/vernetzen/details/callforpapers/gendered-allegories-origen-of-alexandria-and-the-representation-of-the-feminine-in-patristic-litera/ #LiteratureGender #fidavlnews #LiteratureReligion @litstudies #LiteratureClassics