Throwback to 📍 #Alcatraz

🎥 By: Sethpicturesmusic
ℹ️ Captured for: #whiteroomreviews

🗓️ 8/8/2025
🌱 #thycatafalque
💿 #seasonofmistofficial

Tamás Kátai
.
.
.
#concertphotography #concertphotographer #musicphotography #musicphotographer #bandphotographer #bandphotography #seasonofmist #seasonofmistrecords #sethabrikoos #sethpicturesmusic

🤘✌️

Throwback to: #CarachAngren 📍live at #tivolivredenburg

🗓️ 15/7/2025
💿 #seasonofmist #seasonofmistrecords
🤘 #decibeltouring

📷 Sethpicturesmusic - Seth Abrikoos

🙏 The full review and the photos went up on #WhiteroomReviews
ACCR: #LoudnoiseProductions

Nightfall – Children of Eve Review

By Steel Druhm

Greek oddballs, Nightfall have always been unpredictable and difficult to pigeonhole to any one genre or scene. Though they came out of the same scene as Rotting Christ and SepticFlesh, their style wandered over the map much more, flirting with Goth rock, melodeath and various shades of blackened traditional metal. Every time a new album appears, you go in not knowing what to expect. 2021’s At Night We Prey was a dark, brooding affair borrowing from Moonspell and SepticFlesh without fully abandoning their quirks and intrinsic weirdness. Children of Eve stays more or less in the same general vicinity, adding more Goth broth to the pot as they walk the edges of multiple styles. Can they continue their streak of quality releases, or will the wheels finally come of your Rube Goldberg-esque musical contraption?

As with any Nightfall release, it takes a few spins to get a handle on what is going on and whether it works for you. Opener “I Hate” is like a forced marriage between Rotting Christ and SepticFlesh, and though it’s very bombastic and over-the-top, it still works at a core level through sheer blunt force. It’s heavy enough to satisfy, with hooks to tickle the brainpan, and vocalist Efthimis Karadimas’ death bellows work hard to keep you invested. The haunting female vocals that counterpoint his death roars are effective, and the song paints a dark, occult atmosphere. “The Cannibal” ups the heaviness significantly, approximating Behemoth at points while also dropping a chorus that’s so Amon Amarth, that they should start preparing for a raiding party to hit their town. From there things jump around and shift styles. “Lurking” has a grungy black n’ roll energy with more Amon Amarthing wedged in, and “For the Expelled Ones” sounds a lot like the Insomnium’s pairing with Rotting Christ on “White Christ,” with Efthimis mimicing Sakis Tolis vocally. Closer “Christian Svengali” goes for a kind of epic doom and pulls it off, creating a larger-than-life vibe full of drama with smart touches of Goth.

While every track contains moments I like, some simply don’t come together. “Seeking Revenge” adds pop-like female vocals to a groove-heavy melodeath attack that never really takes flight, and “With Outlandish Desire to Disobey” is a night club-friendly goth rocker with poppy female vocals that feels underbaked and flat. Elsewhere, “The Traders of Anathema” fuses epic moments with thrash and groove-metal and it falls short of success. The alchemy that carried them through the last few albums is less prevalent here, and though moments of inspired lunacy appear, only about half the songs really resonate with me and make me want to hear them again. After repeated spins, rather than coming together and making more sense, Children of Eve feels disjointed and patched together with Fruit Stripe gum and duct tape. You can almost hear the styles grinding against each other like tectonic plates rather than coalescing into something interesting. It’s a credit to Nightfall that even when things go pear-shaped, the songs are never outright bad, just tepid.

Efthimis Karadimas is the sole original member and he guides the ship. I’ve always enjoyed his vocals and his flair for the dramatic, and his booming death bellows still carry weight. He also wisely switches up styles enough over the album to avoid sounding one-note. Kostas Kyriakopoulos does a decent job dabbling in riffs from across the metal spectrum and there are high points where he steals the show, though too much of his riffage feels generic and basic. Fotis Giannakopoulos (Nightrage, ex-SepticFlesh) does a fine job brutalizing the skins, thundering along as the band shifts styles and genres on a whim. It’s not a talent issue this time, just a cohesive and memorable writing issue.

Nightfall have a long and unusual track record and they’ve had their share of hits and misses. This is the least compelling release since the early aughts, and though I doubt I’ll be returning to it, I can’t say it’s wholly lacking in merit. If you wish Rotting Christ was more adventurous and freaky, this might resonate, and there are a handful of interesting songs present. It just needs more…Gorilla Glue.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 192 kbps mp3
Label: Season of Mist
Websites: nightfall.gr | nightfallofficial.bandcamp.com | instagram.com/nightfallband
Releases Worldwide: May 2nd, 2025

#25 #2025 #ChildrenOfEve #GothicHeavyMetal #May25 #MelodicDeathMetal #Moonspell #Nightfall #Review #Reviews #RottingChrist #SeasonOfMistRecords #SepticFlesh

Nite – Cult of the Serpent Sun Review

By Steel Druhm

The wise and worldly Don Dokken taught me long ago that one should never unchain the night. Growing up, I’ve done my best to live this crucial truth. Unfortunately, no one ever told me what to do about Nite, the odd heavy metal project birthed by members of Dawnbringer, High Spirits, and Satan’s Wrath. Their 2020 Darkness Silence Mirror Flame debut was an intriguing mash-up of classic 80s and trve metal with a decidedly blackened edge courtesy of vocalist Van Labrakis (Satan’s Wrath). Their enthusiastically retro sound borrowed heavily from Mercyful Fate, Iron Maiden, and of course, Dawnbringer, but sometimes the fit between the music and the vocals didn’t work. They smoothed things out somewhat for 2022s Voices of the Kronian Moon, but nagging issues still held them back. Now third platter Cult of the Serpent Sun is upon us, and they haven’t tweaked their sound so much as honed it into a more imposing weapon. Does that portend good things for those who dwell in the Niteside eclipse?

I’ll say this for Nite: they’re determined to stick to their original concept and find ways to make you love it. While I’ve always enjoyed the core of what they do, the extraordinarily one-note black metal rasps by Van Labrakis were a huge drag on the material. The vocals haven’t changed on Cult of the Serpent Sun, but Nite’s ability to write compelling song with a fuck ton of excellent guitar parts has finally allowed them to overcome the vocal shortcomings. The album plays out like a collaborative jam session between Mercyful Fate, The Night Eternal, Grand Magus, and Dawnbringer, and the guitar work is lusty, mighty, and glorious from start to finish. Cuts like “Skull” throw so much Grand Magus-esque guitar splendor at the wall that you can’t resist gobbling up everything that sticks, and Labrakis’ rasps now add character instead of sounding out of place. “Crow (Fear the Night)” is an impossible song to dislike. The stellar guitar work from Scott Hoffman (Dawnbringer) and Labrakis is out of this world and exactly what makes metal so damn intoxicating. Just listen to all the cool, badass shit they do throughout the song and feel your back hair grow in appreciation.

Elsewhere, “The Last Blade” manages to blend the hard rocking energy of early 80s act like Keel and Y&T with trve vintages like Dawnbringer and Grand Magus for a wild ride into nostalgia. “Carry On” sounds like The Night Flight Orchestra showed up to help In Solitude and/or The Night Eternal add 80s radio rock energy to their typically Mercyful Fate-worshipping material. It’s just an uber-cool tune that gets you fist-pumping and air-guitaring in equal doses as Manowar look down upon you approvingly from their Airbnb at Crom’s Mountain of Steel. The high point is the ginormously epic closer “Winds of Sokar,” where all the honor and valor of Bathory’s Viking era bleeds forth over you in a red geyser of grandeur. You WILL love this song or be judged harshly at the gates of Valhalla by me or some other ape-like security goon. So what are the downsides? A few songs go for mood over hard rocking, and though nothing is skippable, “The Mystic” plays out like a lost piece to the soundtrack to Conan the Barbarian, and it’s too restrained despite its ample machismo. “Tarmut” suffers a similar handicap, with atmosphere superceding badasserey. At a very lean 36 minutes, Cult is a quick, vital listen, though it may take 2-3 spins to fully implant its hooks. Once it does, though, there’s no going back.

Cult is a guitar-lovers wet dream. Hoffman and Labrakis hold nothing back and go deep into the heart of classic metal for an endless series of cutting riffs and shining harmonies. The riffage ranges from edgy, to melodic to heroic, and you will hunger for more, no matter how high they stack the fretboard buffet. Nearly every song features exceptional guitar work and memorable pieces, and the spirit of metal’s golden age lives loudly in the writing. Oh, the sweet, sweet jammage! Van Labrakis’ vocals are the same monotone snarl as before, but somehow, he seems less of an impediment and injects the right amount of oomph to the songs. Would Nite be better with an actual singer? Yes, but three albums in, this is the Nite show, and it’s improving with every release. An additional hats off to the slick drumming by Patrick Crawford, who drives the songs right through your fucking head with propulsive kit thumps.

I expected to be whelmed by Cult of the Serpent Sun and report that I loved the music but not the vocals. I do love the music, and now the vocals don’t bother me as much. This is a very entertaining slab of retro metal that spans multiple genres, and it has truly great moments that I’ll be spinning for a long time. It also exudes a level of coolness that’s hard to resist. Maybe it’s okay to unchain the Nite? I better ask Donny first, though.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Season of Mist
Websites: nitemetal.com | nitemetal.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/nitemetal
Releases Worldwide: March 14th, 2025

#2025 #35 #AmericanMetal #CultOfTheSerpentSun #DarknessSilenceMirrorFlame #Dawnbringer #GrandMagus #HeavyMetal #HighSpirits #Mar25 #MercyfulFate #Nite #Review #Reviews #SatanSWrath #SeasonOfMistRecords #TheNightEternal #TheNightFlightOrchestra #VoicesOfTheKronianMoon

Retromorphosis – Psalmus Mortis Review

By Saunders

When Sweden’s Spawn of Possession drew curtains on their distinguished career in 2017, it spelled the end of one of modern tech death’s finest acts. Bands across the globe flooded the scene in the intervening years, saturating the market to varying degrees of success. Emerging like fresh shoots from the earth in which Spawn of Possession were laid to rest, Retromorphosis features the gold plated pedigree of former Spawn of Possession mainstays Dennis Röndum (vocals), Jonas Bryssling (guitars) and Erlend Caspersen (bass), joining forces with another former SoP member and legendary shredder Christian Muenzner (Necrophagist, Obscura, Alkaloid), and classy, octopus-limbed drummer KC Howard (ex-Decrepit Birth, Odious Mortem). Boasting a bulletproof cast of esteemed metal musicians at their disposal, Retromorphosis appear hellbent on adding their own fresh perspective on the knotty tech death formula SoP made their own throughout their influential career. Debut album Psalmus Mortis naturally comes with lofty expectations and a line-up to salivate over.

Right away, it’s difficult to completely separate Retromorphosis from the SoP legacy. Beyond the obviously strong band DNA comes the fact that Retromorphosis share many of the same musical and songwriting traits. That said, it does a disservice to purely pin them as Spawn of Possession 2.0. This new incarnation has some tricks up their collective sleeves, unleashing an intricately constructed storm of cyclonic riffs, technical wizardry, rapid-fire blasts, and complex drum patterns. Similarities aside, Psalmus Mortis contains its own mutated characteristics and is not simply a rehashing of recycled ideas. The songwriting is exciting and inspired. There’s a little more flashy pizzazz in the solo department and more pronounced use of keys and synths adds a touch of epic bombast and sinister atmosphere to otherwise meaty, twisty compositions. However, the technicality does not compromise memorable, song-based writing.

Drenched in killer atmosphere and slow-building tension, opening instrumental “Obscure Exordium” crams loads of free-flowing ideas, orchestral touches, and good old-fashioned blasting into its short timeframe. The segue into the aggressive “Vanished” is smoothly executed, shifting gears from a brooding atmosphere to rugged, speedy attacks and whirlwind tempo shifts that define the track. Best absorbed in its entirety, the eight juggernauts boast dynamic variations, remarkable fluidity, and individual character. Robust, progressive-leaning shifts of “The Tree” navigates maze-like complexities through multiple moving parts, deftly maintaining fluency and memorability. Complex, thrashy, and aggressively riffy monster jams “Aunt Christie’s Will” and “Retromorphosis” represent ripping examples of the album’s strengths, exhibited through warped harmonies, lightspeed tempos, headbangable grooves, and grippingly infectious dual axework. “Machine” plunders and steamrolls through nine minutes of chugging riffage, brooding atmospheres, whip-smart tempo shifts, and proggy transitions, making every moment count. Only a couple of tracks fall marginally short of the overall pristine standards, though it’s a consistently gripping front-to-back listen.

Whereas some tech death bands fall victim to overindulgence, resulting in the deathly elements becoming afterthoughts, Retromorphosis avoid this pitfall. Thunderous kicks, machine gunning blasts, Röndum’s impactful growls, and the malevolent, sick old school grooves erupting from the labyrinthine arrangements offer resoundingly beefy, aggressive oomph to proceedings. Freakishly skilled talents abound, the musicianship is next-level awesome. Bryssling and Muenzner are a formidable force in the tech realms, delivering a masterclass of staggering technical mindfuckery, bamboozling solos, and an array of striking harmonies, otherworldly melodies, and intricate, catchy tech death riffs. The underrated vox and spitfire growls of Röndum (ex-Visceral Bleeding) lend the album a brutal, old-school edge, while Howard and Caspersen refuse to be overshadowed. The former’s blisteringly intense performance is perfectly matched to the complexity and dynamics of the material. Casperson makes his presence felt at key moments, offering a notable melodic counterpoint and presence. The sharp, punchy sound is polished but contains ample warmth and heft, the breathable master a big plus.

Featuring the bulk of the Incurso line-up, Psalmus Mortis is something of a spiritual successor, albeit a sleeker, polished counterpart. While it can’t quite match that modern classic, it’s an immense, dizzying tech-death debut of serious fucking proportions and exemplary musical chops. Retromorphosis more than live up to the dreaded supergroup tag. carrying on and reimagining the legacy of the legendary band in which they spawned. Retromorphosis raise the bar and put the tech death scene on notice in 2025. It’s an exciting prospect to see how Retromorphosis develops and evolves from here. All that’s missing is a Chalky guest spot.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Season of Mist
Websites: retromorphosisofficial.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/retromorphosis.swe
Releases Worldwide: February 21st, 2025

Maddog

The 2012 release of Spawn of Possession’s Incurso is Sharpied into my memory. At the time, I had devoured Cabinet and dabbled in Noctambulant but was no expert. Then, a now-defunct review on Heavy Blog is Heavy awarded Incurso a perfect score, arguing that it was the greatest tech-death album ever. Flabbergasted, I gave Incurso a listen. Spawn of Possession’s swansong ratcheted up the band’s technicality while trimming the band’s “Jonas” count from three to one. New guitarist Christian Muenzner (ex-Necrophagist, ex-Obscura, every other band) decorated the album with gorgeous leads. Meanwhile, Erlend Caspersen’s hyperactive bass lines balanced wizardry with finesse followed up with the coolest bass playthrough ever (“The Evangelist”). I grew to adore Spawn of Possession, and their subsequent fizzle-out was heartbreaking. Retromorphosis’ recent inception was equally thrilling. Retromorphosis’ debut Psalmus Mortis aims to resurrect SoP’s legacy and boasts four of the five members of the Incurso line-up. My expectations started out sky-high.

BOOM, BANG boom, weedle-weedle skree, BOOM, BANG boom, weedle-weedle-weedle weedle-DOO, BOOM, WEE-bang-DLE-doo—yes, they’re back. Spawn of Possession’s signature sprawls across Psalmus Mortis, and the universe is better off for it. Guitarists Jonas Bryssling and Christian Muenzner offer neither a Viraemian noodle fest nor a monotony of has-been death metal. Rather, their hybrid approach is at once acrobatic, shamelessly melodic, and more riff-centric than Incurso. Retromorphosis’ neoclassical melodies flail and interweave, evoking Necrophagist while wielding both heft and beauty. On the other hand, Psalmus Mortis’ chunky riffs flirt with old-school death metal and even death-doom (“Obscure Exordium,” “Vanished”). Similarly, new drummer KC Howard (Odious Mortem, ex-Decrepit Birth) bludgeons his kit with both class and frenzy, guiding the music through bewildering rhythms. Dennis Röndum’s vocals take a manic Archspiresque approach without sacrificing clarity. Like Spawn of Possession, Retromorphosis uses backing synths and foreboding guitar melodies to set the scene. Landing between Noctambulant and Incurso, Psalmus Mortis’ style feels familiar but fresh.

When Psalmus Mortis delivers, it’s a thrill. The album grabs the listener with both its technical gymnastics and its MMA maneuvers. The closer “Exalted Splendour” showcases trapezing Obscura-style leads that balance grandeur and fun, while “Vanished” remains headbangable even through its spastic rhythm changes. Even when Psalmus Mortis resorts to unrestrained noodling, it uses its melodic backbone to avoid getting soggy (“Retromorphosis”). Conversely, the straightforward six-note tremolo riff that underpins “Aunt Christie’s Will” is the record’s most memorable snippet, while the midsection of “Retromorphosis” is tinged with Immolation’s Unholy Cult. Still, Psalmus Mortis’ 42 minutes aren’t consistently engaging. This is partly because of bloat, like the sleepy first half of the nine-minute “Machine.” It’s partly because of a frustratingly muted bass presence from the phenomenal Caspersen. And it’s partly just because certain riffs lack power (“Never to Awake”). Psalmus Mortis is a strong outing, but it sometimes feels more like a purely intellectual exercise than an exciting ride.

However, Incurso’s narrative quality remains Psalmus Mortis’ greatest asset. Psalmus Mortis feels like a collection of Poe stories. Retromorphosis’ smooth but dogged plot development defines “The Tree,” a tale of environmental neglect where the protagonist’s escalating missteps are accompanied by escalating musical urgency. Throughout the record, guitar melodies summon suffocating atmospheres, wrenching the mood from awe to terror and back again. Plot twists and masterful storytelling culminate in colossal climaxes, like the dramatic melody that accompanies the narrator’s revelation in “Retromorphosis.” Even as they evolve, Psalmus Mortis’ songs stay tethered to recognizable themes, like the main melody and lyrical refrain that anchor “Aunt Christie’s Will.” Psalmus Mortis’ narrative flow stands unmatched by any genre-mates other than Gorod and Spawn of Possession themselves.

Psalmus Mortis isn’t a modern classic, but it’s better than we deserve. Spawn of Possession’s take on death metal has proven to be both immortal and peerless. Retromorphosis’ debut offers an unforeseen glimpse at a style that had seemingly faded into the realm of archaeology. Dips in quality and underuse of Caspersen’s bass prowess hold it back from excellence. But Psalmus Mortis’ blend of XXXXL death metal riffs, dizzying rhythms, and blistering technicality is highly combustible. Most of all, the record’s approach to storytelling stands apart. The last decade taught me that while Spawn of Possession hits hard at first, it improves with age. Come 2030, I may regret underrating this album.

Rating: Very Good

#2025 #35 #40 #Alkaloid #Archspire #DeathMetal #DecrepitBirth #Feb25 #Gorod #Immolation #Necrophagist #Obscura #OdiousMortem #PsalmusMortis #Retromorphosis #Review #Reviews #SeasonOfMist #SeasonOfMistRecords #SpawnOfPossession #SwedishMetal #TechnicalDeathMetal #Viraemia #VisceralBleeding

Saor – Amidst the Ruins Review

By El Cuervo

A black metal nerd’s love for their country’s natural history is one of the purest loves in metal. Andy Marshall, now best known for Saor, is one of the world’s premier folk/black metal artists and writes music that harks to Scotland’s immense beauty and folkloric culture. Album six, entitled Amidst the Ruins, is now primed for unveiling and once more returns to the desolate highlands, glossy lochs, and misty glens that characterize the best of Scottish nature. With five full-length releases under Marshall’s belt between 2013 and 2022, and having written reviews for four of these, I was starting to find the impact of his work dulled, if only through sheer familiarity. Can Saor find something fresh amidst the ruins?

The album features a pivot back to the lengthier, grander compositions from earlier in Saor’s career after the comparative brevity and directness of Origins. The opening leads of the album exemplify how Saor straddle the fine line between potently heavy but also satisfyingly melodic, with the track extending for nearly 13 minutes. Emotionally, it finds that goldilocks zone of music – that’s somehow mournful, hopeful but also epic – in which the band excels. By contrast to the energetic opening minutes, the closing minutes of the record lean heavily into emotive impact. “Rebirth” forges a massive guitar and string harmonization, with layers of cleanly sung vocals, into an auditory demonstration of Scottish pride and heroism. These strains of black metal and stirring melodies are packaged in production that sounds appropriately heavy with robust bass, but which enables the piercing effect of the tremolo-picked guitars. It’s hard to imagine that a fan of folksy, melodic and/or atmospheric black metal wouldn’t appreciate something in the core Saor sound.

Despite the retreat towards lengthier songs, there’s a sophisticated, progressive edge to Amidst the Ruins that distinguishes it from earlier releases. “Echoes of the Ancient Land” immediately adopts a spikier song-writing approach, shuffling predictably fast riffs and unpredictably technical riffs across its opening 90 seconds. The guitars are more technical than you might expect from folksy black metal that ordinarily prioritizes emotive above cerebral impact. As the song develops, it becomes more intricate and dynamic, levering a variety of harmonies (between layers of guitars, guitars, vocals, guitars, and strings, etc) and a variety of instrumentation (uillean pipes, various whistles and strings). Although the core Saor sound remains comfortably familiar, it’s presented with more bells and whistles this time around. Similarly, Andy Marshall’s compositional prowess in integrating classical and folksy instrumentation has developed. On the title track, the abating heaviness around the mid-point exposes just a quiet guitar and a whistle that gradually layers with dancing strings and chugging guitars. The swelling composition, especially as it explodes into a memorable vocal refrain with the strings remaining behind, makes for an entrancing experience through the beautiful melodies and subtle instrumental details.

It all coalesces into the type of hypnotic effect you feel across the best atmo-black records, where the songs don’t feel quite as long as they are; contrasted by the worst atmo-black records that feel interminable. But perhaps Origins spoiled me given that it saw Saor playing with shorter songs that were a mite sharper. My principal complaint about the otherwise strong title track is that it continues for a further three minutes after the dramatic climax described above. The material remains enjoyable but it disrupts the song’s flow. Likewise, “The Sylvan Embrace” has an initial impact but is ultimately too long and repetitive. It’s intended as an acoustic interlude – and folksy metal can do this type of thing well – but the core guitar melody loops for seven minutes. The songs are scarcely longer than those at the pinnacle of the Saor discography but those overcame their ponderous length through consistent emotional intensity and immense payoffs. Amidst the Ruins also bears these qualities but to a slightly-lesser extent.

Although plainly produced by the same band producing a similar sound to other records in their discography, Amidst the Ruins stretches Saor in new and interesting ways. It may not be quite as emotionally arresting as the first few records – although this may well be the result of diminished novelty more than anything – but the songwriting and melodies remain highly engaging. Saor are perversely comforting to me, even on a release that would be intolerably heavy for 99% of the world’s music-loving population. Anyone with a mere passing interest in folksy black metal will undoubtedly glean much from Amidst the Ruins.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps MP3
Label: Season of Mist
Websites: facebook.com/saor | saor.bandcamp.com
Releases Worldwide: February 7th, 2025

#2025 #40 #AmidstTheRuins #BlackMetal #Feb25 #FolkMetal #Review #Reviews #Saor #ScottishMetal #SeasonOfMistRecords

Record(s) o’ the Month – July 2024

By Angry Metal Guy

The middle of summer is rarely the best time for the metal release schedule. While there have been some notable July releases over the years, it seems like labels tend to fit their highest-profile releases into the Autumn. Still, for July of 2024, there was a slate of solid recommendations from the staff and readers, making this one of those months when it’s both good and hard to be the king. It’s been tough to choose, honestly. So rather than wasting your time crafting a long, comical intro, I’m just going to cut right to the chase.

Wormed released its fourth full-length entitled Omegon [Bandcamp], the first in eight long years, on July 5th from Season of Mist. In response, our Maddog wrote an epic that lifted my experience of Omegon even further. Omegon and its review share a feature in that they are both exceptional art. What differentiates them, however, is that Wormed’s long break finds the Spaniards having honed their unique brand of technical, chaotic, and deeply brutal death metal into something particularly caustic and effective. Both chaotic and gripping, Omegon assaults the senses and excites the imagination. And aside from any individual component in the music, Omegon succeeds, as Maddog explained, “because it flows so well, allowing its headbangability persist even through its stupefying time signature changes. Wormed’s irresistible blend of Stone Age brutality and Space Age technicality launches them into the ranks of Gorod, Archspire, and Revocation, despite sounding worlds apart from those bands. Throughout its 41 minutes, the spectacle of Omegon holds you rapt.”

Runner(s) Up:

Octoploid // Beyond the Aeons [July 5, 2024 | Reigning Phoenix Music]1 — Every time I write an Amorphis review, I comment on how nobody sounds like Amorphis except Amorphis (er, and Barren Earth). Well, I guess we need to add another band to that list: Octoploid. The reason why is obvious, written by bassist Olli-Pekka Laine, Beyond the Aeons has the characteristic sound he’s dragged with him wherever he goes. His particular tendencies—that psychedelic vibe from Elegy-era Amorphis mixed with an energetic melodic death metal that rests comfortably in 6/8 swings—make Beyond the Aeons both immediately recognizable and an addictive listen. With instantly memorable melodies, a host of guest appearances, and a 38-minute run-time perfectly suited for the music, Octoploid’s debut is an instant success and most definitely in my running for end-of-year considerations. Kenstrosity, who weirdly underrated something and doesn’t appear to know who Olli-Pekka Laine is, was still “unreasonably excited by Octoploid’s debut” because “it represents a side of the melodic and progressive death metal scenes that I don’t hear often, and I want so much more.” Should I tell him about classic Amorphis or nah?

Assemble the Chariots // Unyielding Night [July 22, 2024 | Seek & Strike Records | Bandcamp] — Back when deathcore was just tough guys who challenged me to fights in the comment section because I don’t like run-in-place breakdowns, it was easy to know what the genre was and it was fairly easy to ignore. Assemble the Chariots is apparently a deathcore band, but I wouldn’t have known if I hadn’t read it. To these Olde Metal Guy ears, they sound mostly like a mashup of Fleshgod Apocalypse, [(Luca) Turilli(’s) / Lione] Rhapsody [of Fire], and ’90s symphonic black metal. And yeah, I guess there are enough chug riffs, the drums sound heavily replaced, and the production is a brickwalled nightmare. Still, none of that stuff is enough to stop me from fully embracing the bombastic majesty that is Unyielding Night, which marks Assemble the Chariots’ debut platter. The unreasonably productive Dear Hollow is on the same page as me.2 He summarized it well when he wrote: “Subtlety is not a priority in Unyielding Night, and Assemble the Chariots offers an album whose intensity and pomp align impressively with the grandiosity of the tragedy of Aquilegia. As such, it’s long, over-the-top, constantly intense, and likely too much for some listeners. However, Unyielding Night is a powerful, energetic bombast that tastefully includes deathcore’s signature brutality without diving headlong into stagnation. Assemble the Chariots is something special.”

Seth // La France des Maudits [July 14, 2024 | Season of Mist | Bandcamp] — Seth’s La France des Maudits should help cement the band as a defining force in black metal, delivering an album that surpasses even their 2021 comeback La Morsure du Christ. With a blend of fierce trem-picked riffs, dynamic vocals, and rich atmospheres Seth captures both the rage and sorrow of revolution. The album’s intricate layers of melody and powerful emotional range elevate it beyond a standard black metal album, weaving themes of defiance with melancholic introspection. Seth masterfully balances aggression with poignant beauty, creating an experience that feels cinematic in its scope and affecting in its intensity. Every element, from the dramatic chorals to the blistering guitars, contributes to a soundscape that is both expansive and clear. From this fawning enthusiasm, you can tell that Thus Spoke was the unbridled lover of black metal behind this review. And it was obvious by the end of it, that she would go to the barricades for Seth when she declared: “Experience for yourself the phoenix-like rise in all its vitriolic, pathos-soaked glory, and join the revolution. ‘Tous, Marchons sur le monde!’” I can only imagine that got her landed on some watchlist. But she wasn’t wrong that La France des Maudits is worthy of our attention!

#2024 #AssembleTheChariots #BeyondTheAeons #Blog #Jul24 #LaFranceDesMaudits #Octoploid #Omegon #RecordSOTheMonth #SeasonOfMistRecords #Seth #UnyieldingNight #Wormed

Anciients – Beyond the Reach of the Sun Review

By Saunders

Canada’s Anciients made an explosive impact on a pair of ambitious albums, courtesy of 2013’s promising Heart of Oak debut, and 2016’s flawed though frequently great sophomore opus Voice of the Void. Displaying a fresh penchant for chunky, intricate progressive metal featuring sludge, stoner and psychedelic elements, Anciients displayed influences like early Mastodon, Intronaut and Opeth as touchstones to a vibrant sound they could call their own. Then shit went dark as a series of personal events and line-up changes halted momentum. News of a long-awaited return filtered through, resulting in the release of their eagerly awaited third album Beyond the Reach of the Sun, featuring striking Adam Burke cover art. Hardships and the passage of time perhaps places question marks on whether Anciients can expand upon their formula to achieve prime career results.

Beyond the Reach of the Sun exhibits trademark songwriting characteristics and fresh ideas, whipped into an ambitious prog opus, carrying familiar traits from its predecessors, while forging its own path. Heart of Oak and Voice of the Void have grown in stature over the years; however, I have been patiently waiting for Anciients to deliver a knockout album to fulfill their enormous potential. Beyond the Reach of the Sun features a gloomy, melancholic undertone contrasting against a vibrant and adventurous songwriting framework that doubles down on the prog without neglecting the other multi-genre hues, including shades of hard rock, sludge, folk, psych, and death. Parting ways with guitarist/co-vocalist Chris Dyck, mastermind Kenny Cook (vocals/guitars) and drummer Mike Hannay are joined by new members Brock MacInnes (guitars) and Rory O’Brien (bass). Cook handles all vocal duties, with his smoother, emotive croons complimented by beefy, Åkerfeldt-esque death growls for extra punch.

Beyond the Reach of the Sun sounds like a blockbuster culmination of the band’s career to date, rejuvenated after the preceding tumultuous years. The exuberant, technical flourishes and proggy indulgences are ever present, while shreddy, groovy guitar work forms a gripping center point. Like many a grand prog album, Beyond the Reach of the Sun operates best in its entirety. The slightly odd single choices (“Melt the Crown,” “Cloak of the Vast and Black,” and “In the Absence of Wisdom”) fit fluidly in full album context, fine examples of their intricate, psych-enhanced prog metal and hooky songcraft. Soaring melodies, gripping musicianship and mellower musings collide with more full-blooded riff and vocal assaults. Longer form cut “Forbidden Sanctuary” is a curious opening selection. Its slow build heightens tension before unfurling into an effectively moody, progressive sludge rocker. Cook’s excellent clean vocal melodies worm their way into your brain as sparkling guitar harmonies and noodling jams give way to an all-guns-blazing climax, where death roars and frantic blasts take hold.

More concise heavier songs color the album’s varied palette and progressive overtones. “Despoiled” boasts serious fucking teeth to match its groovier prog rock swagger, enlivened by beefed-up riffs, irresistible hooks, and an intense, headbangable closing gallop. Meanwhile, “The Torch” is another stellar, memorable example of Anciients digging into their heavier roots, unleashing one of many sizzling guitar solos rippling through the album. Beyond the Reach of the Sun is an epic guitar album, with Cook and MacInnes the stars of the show. Exuding confidence, technicality and style, the duo stuff the album full of gorgeous melodies and harmonies, psychedelic touches, and burly sludge rock meets prog-death riffage. Cook also nails his increased vocal responsibilities. His cleans are constantly gripping, sounding more confident and assured, while expressing the fragile emotional journey that led to the album’s eventual conception. Vocal highlights are aplenty, however, the mournful, yet hopeful turn on doom-laced epic “Is it Your God” hits with particularly wrenching impact. Meanwhile, the regularly deployed death growls land some killer blows, lending a punch of heaviness to proceedings.

Not all is peachy. Although Anciients most concise and consistent album, self-editing could still use improvement. While the album doesn’t lag or stall as such, a few meandering moments suggest careful trimming of the fattier bits may have reaped benefits. The solid production lacks dynamics, and a warmer, breathable master would have done wonders, while the meatier guitar sections could stand to pack more weight and horsepower. Song sequencing could use a subtle tweak as well. Overall, these are relatively minor quibbles in the big scheme of things and fail to significantly hinder a superbly written and performed album, marking a welcome return and striking evolution of the Anciients sound and wondrous progressive metal showcase.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 6| Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Season of Mist
Websites: anciients.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/ANCIIENTSRIFFS
Releases Worldwide: August 30th, 2024

#2024 #40 #Anciients #BeyondTheReachOfTheSun #CanadianMetal #Intronaut #Mastodon #Opeth #ProgRock #ProgressiveDeath #ProgressiveMetal #Review #Reviews #SeasonOfMistRecords #SludgeRock

Wormed – Omegon Review

By Maddog

It awakens. Hope dies. Well-rested after an eight-year slumber since Krighsu, Wormed boots up. Programmed for violence, its processor whirs as it hones in on your location. It finds you in minutes; hiding in the alley behind St. Vitus wasn’t your best move. As soon as you spot its piercing red eyes, you realize the jig is up. In that split second, you see Wormed’s sculpted metal features gleaming in the midnight neon, like a steel diagram of the muscular system. You don’t know its Origin. All you know is that you have to run. So you run.

It chases. You cut southeast to throw it off, but Omegon stays on your tail with superhuman speed. Crunchy technical riffs evoke Cryptopsy on Adderall, developing at a breakneck pace and switching rhythms mid-measure. These tech death bloodbaths erupt into the slammiest of slam (“Automaton Virtulague”). Punishing slam flirts with haunting melodies, elopes with uplifting blackgaze, and abandons it at the altar (“Virtual Teratogenesis”). Omegon’s scattered serene melodies disintegrate into noise (“Malignant Nexus”) or get gunned down by riffs (“Omegon”). Indeed, you gloat prematurely, Omegon’s occasional attempts to slow down do it no favors. Speed and precision are Wormed’s game, and the band’s brutal death metal assault hasn’t been copycatted in the two decades since Planisphærium. You hook right and skirt The Kingsland, hoping the sleepy residential darkness can conceal you from Omegon.

It twists and turns, but keeps its footing. Not content to be merely a speed demon, Omegon outwits you. On first glance, Omegon’s chaotic evolution seems scatterbrained. But it’s not scatterbrained; you are.1 Countless listens reveal that Omegon’s frenzied melodies never just emerge from the ether, even when it seems otherwise. Wormed always plants seeds in advance, before developing dormant ideas into lethal climaxes (“Protogod”). Omegon’s fluid dystopian storytelling makes it easy to identify and adore specific sections, no matter their density. As you sprint for your life, you notice details that would ordinarily elude you. The wilting iris in the community garden, the two gray Jeeps with shattered taillights, the manic disso-doom of “Pareidolia Robotica,” the foreshadowing of the Meshuggah ending of “Aetheric Transdimensionalization.” Over-stimulated, your brain notices a crack in the sidewalk, but your feet are too slow to get the message. The world spins, concrete clobbers your chin, and fear gives way to resignation. As Wormed looms over you, you get a closer look and realize your error. Beneath Omegon’s metal armor and scarlet gaze, you see flesh. Your mysterious captor is no automaton. Omegon’s cybernetic ambush betrays as much human craftsmanship as mechanical precision. You grimace at the thought of what Wormed might do next.

It slams. Perfectly capable of pulverizing you with fancy technology, Wormed takes the caveman route first. Beating your torso with an out-of-character crowbar, Omegon’s barrage begins with the fantastic “Automaton Virtulague” and doesn’t let up. Wormed’s Pierced from Within riffs slam into oblivion and scratch an itch that’s usually limited to Suffocation (“Pareidolia Robotica”). While Omegon loves an old-fashioned bludgeoning, its techier pieces hit just as hard. With the demented opening of “Virtual Teratogenesis” and the arpeggiated soloing of “Gravitational Servo Matrix,” Wormed graduates from crowbar to chainsaw without sacrificing a shred of fun. Because Omegon flows so well, its headbangability persists even through its stupefying time signature changes. Wormed’s irresistible blend of Stone Age brutality and Space Age technicality launches them into the ranks of Gorod, Archspire, and Revocation, despite sounding worlds apart from those bands. The album’s power wanes as it proceeds; once it saws off one leg, the second one goes easier. But throughout its 41 minutes, the spectacle of Omegon holds you rapt.

Then, it vanishes. You jerk awake. Drenched in sweat and terror, your mind races over your fading nightmare. While Omegon’s minutia haven’t yet wormed into your memory—that won’t happen until your fifth listen—its hectic ambiance has. Confused and overwhelmed, you try to wipe Wormed from your mind. You distract yourself with Alcest, but it sounds frivolous now. You spin Ulcerate, but even that lacks Omegon’s chaos. Exasperated, you resort to Confessions on a Dance Floor, but its orderly rhythms pale before Wormed. You’ve deteriorated into Jeremy Renner in The Hurt Locker; having experienced violence once, you’ve fallen in love with it, and nothing else compares. You realize now what you must do.

It awakens.

Rating: 4.5/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Season of Mist Records
Websites: wormed.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/wormed
Releases Worldwide: July 5th, 2024

#2024 #45 #Archspire #BrutalDeathMetal #Cryptopsy #DeathMetal #DissonantDeathMetal #Gorod #Jul24 #Meshuggah #Omegon #Origin #Review #Reviews #Revocation #SeasonOfMist #SeasonOfMistRecords #Slam #SpanishMetal #Suffocation #TechnicalBrutalDeathMetal #TechnicalDeathMetal #Ulcerate #Wormed