For the second time this month, I seem to have selected a band for review that was born from the ashes of another. Goddess, a stoner doom collective from Stockholm, Sweden, was formerly known as Goatess. Purgatory Under New Management and Blood and Wine were both warmly received by Saunders in 2016 and 2019, respectively. Following the departure of founding guitarist Niklas Jones afterwards, the remaining members decided to rebrand as Goddess. Does the debut Ritual of the Cloven Hoof herald a divine ascension for these horned disciples?

By and large, Goddess doesn’t sound all that different from Goatess. The core songwriting pillars are still the lumbering, looping grooves of Electric Wizard and the swaggering, bluesy stoner riffs of Sleep. Karl-Martin Bruhe, who was also the vocalist on Blood and Wine, has a gravelly, smoky edge to his voice that adds a good amount of pep. He reminds me a bit of Aganoor’s Dan Ghostrider, albeit in a less grungy, more chilled-out environment. These building blocks, which form the backbone of Ritual of the Cloven Hoof, may seem simple on the surface, but they are arranged in different combinations to produce an impressive variety of power levels as the record unfolds.

Goddess is at their best when they play at either extreme of this spectrum of intensity. My favorite moment in “Inquisition” occurs midway through when they take a break from the traditional licks and grooves, switching to hypnotic tom rhythms which combine perfectly with the psyched-out guitars. This style is also used to great effect in the intro of “To Be King,” which gradually ramps up and culminates with some unexpectedly vicious growls and snarls in the final verse. Ritual of the Cloven Hoof would have benefitted from more of this aggression, which is otherwise absent outside of a brief moment towards the end of “Blood Fever.” Drummer Kenta Karlblom is perhaps the most important influence, making the ebb and flow feel natural, with subtle yet satisfying fills and transitions.

As I spent more time with Ritual of the Cloven Hoof, I noticed an inverse relationship between song length and song quality. “Godless” and “Born Again Heathen” are solid enough slabs of doom metal, but they spread too few riffs over too many minutes. The latter feels especially plodding and could have done without the spoken word segment or such a long psychedelic jam in the middle. The upbeat hard rock riffs that open the next (and shortest overall) track “Devil’s Reef,” are like a breath of fresh air afterward. That said, the total runtime is a tight 38 minutes, which is much more digestible compared with the hour-plus runtimes of all three Goatess records.

With Ritual of the Cloven Hoof, Goddess picks up right where Goatess left off without missing a beat. Prior fans will not be disappointed by this new incarnation. Goddess continues to traverse a wide swath within classic doom and stoner rock, at times thick and weighty and others mesmerizing and easygoing. Ritual of the Cloven Hoof resolves prior issues of overall bloat, although some of the longer tracks overstay their welcome. Slower stretches notwithstanding, stoner doom enthusiasts willing to undertake this pilgrimage will uncover ample rewards from this ritual.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Majestic Mountain Records
Websites: goddessbandofficial.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/baldersounds
Releases Worldwide: May 22nd, 2026

Now—as summer blasts the Earth into a fly-ridden heath—is when I long most for fall. So I get why Patrik Andersson Winberg’s (Dun Ringill, Doomdogs) new solo project Mirror of My Soul would debut this June with October Is Rising.1 A folk project empowered with hard rock muscle and gothic gravitas, Mirror of My Soul aims for atmospheric storytelling and organic song structuring. Joined by drummers Pete Campbell (Axe Dragger, ex-Pentagram) and Tobbe Strandvik, keyboardist Per Wiberg (Tiamat, ex-Opeth), guitarist Patric Grammann (Dun Ringill) and a whole host of vocalists,2 October Is Rising is poised to be an introspective, moody, and engrossing trek through rustic moods and colder temps. But is this album autumn’s light at the end of the tunnel, or is there no relief from summer to be found here?

October Is Rising is a clinic on complementary musicianship. Working within gothic country, folk, and blues rock, October Is Rising lives in slow, sparse compositions that won’t wow listeners with panache. Songs like “A Good Day to Die” and “The Owl” use simple guitar and banjo parts, respectively, to set the stage for spirited vocal performances, while “October Is Rising” and “Grandpa” utilize particularly minimal instrumentation to highlight their singers’ stories. Mirror of My Soul can rip it when necessary, as heard on the Jethro Tullesque flute riffing on “Mina Fotavtryck” and the slick hi-hat work on “Dancing Slowly on the Porch,” but October Is Rising’s musical prowess lies less in individual performance and more in band dynamics. “Lost in the Red Wine” and “The One Who Sings the Songs” pulse in ways that sneakily build and bounce off their individual parts to sound a lot bigger than their thin instrumentation would imply. Mirror of My Soul is composed of industry veterans, and it sounds like it; these guys bring out the best in each other.

Setting rich moods and storytelling are Mirror of My Soul’s game. They’re pros at it. October Is Rising is a pensive autumnal stroll through gloom with the sort of eerie coziness that at varying times reminded me of Fields of the Nephilim, Current 93, and the Over the Garden Wall soundtrack.3 Soundscapes of pale light and fresh darkness bestow tracks like “The Painter,” “Grandpa,” and “Tree on that Hill” a deeply affecting and melancholic quality, shaped by the aforementioned stark instrumentation and poignant vocals. October Is Rising is littered with pathos-imbued bars delivered with conviction, where phrases as obtuse as “The bad news was a feather from a dead bird” (“The Letter”) hit with the sensitivity of straightforward heart-wrenchers like “The trees showed me how to make it all last. There is no future without a vivid past” (“Tree on that Hill”). Mirror of My Soul bring everything you’d want from a singer-songwriter project musically: bittersweet strolls down memory lane, deep into introspection.

October Is Rising listens like a work of singular vision, but not of one voice. There are no bad singers on October Is Rising, mind you, and the diverse cast can be a boon. There aren’t many records out there that can, in one moment, recall Alice in Chains (“Coyote”) and Peter Gabriel the next (“Tree on that Hill”),4 Lou Reed one minute (“Carry Your Soul”) and Johnny Cash another (“A Good Day to Die”). But this committee approach also deprives October Is Rising of singer-songwriter music’s strongest aspect: the intimate conversation between artist and audience. It’s hard to think of Mirror of My Soul as Winberg’s personal exploration of a gloaming Earth when you have to adjust to a new singer every song. October Is Rising still feels cohesive thanks to Winberg’s consistent and compelling songwriting, but I believe one or two good singers would’ve made the record connect that much better.

Mirror of My Soul bring the wistfulness of autumn on October Is Rising. Tight musicianship and smart songwriting carry the listener through Winberg’s stories, sometimes outlandish and always engaging. Though I think one singer would’ve made Mirror of My Soul a more focused entity—or perhaps one singer across every song à la Tobias Sammet of Avantastia—October Is Rising is nevertheless a greatly enjoyable work that I could confidently recommend to anyone interested in gothic rock/country/folk. At the very least, when the upcoming months get hot as balls, it’ll be a good reminder that, in the near future, October Is Rising indeed.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: WAV
Label: Majestic Mountain Records
Websites: mirrorofmysoul.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/mirrorofmysoul
Releases Worldwide: June 12, 2026

Be a burning flame forever

#newmusicfriday #heavymetal #metalmusic #evergrey #mikaelstanne #swedishmetal

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h447ycBOJZM

I always thought Monolord could level up by favoring hooky bangers. So too did Roquentin, who, in evaluating Vænir back in 2015, saw in these long-form Sabbathians the potential for memorable songs. In picking up Monolord reviewing duties, Huck N Roll began charting a consistently Good stoner/doom career that flirted with evolution but consistently maintained a tried-and-true formula. I would have added the adjectival modifier to Your Time to Shine (2021)—its five distinctive tracks strike a Very Good balance of droniness and catchiness across a sensible 39 minutes.1 My revisionism notwithstanding, Monolord has come to embody the AMG Good, with four branches now on the beloved 3.0tree. As the third Monolord reviewer, the odds suggest I will slap another 3.0 on Neverending and call it a day, especially if album six continues to innovate only around the edges.

Fortunately, Monolord agrees that hooky bangers would reinvigorate Monolord. To help sculpt what they describe as ‘more succinct and immediate songs’ and a ‘sharper album,’ the band enlisted the legendary Sylvia Massy to record, produce, and mix Neverending.2 Monolord credit Massy for significantly influencing their editing, but this isn’t to say she radically altered the band’s stoner/doom sound. Sonically, Massy beefs up the already thick n’ fuzzy tones of this Swedish power trio. Indeed, the guitar of Thomas Jäger and bass of Mika Häkki continue to combine for some of the fattest, tastiest riffage in the game, with a signature chromaticism hard to achieve in the genre.3 As on prior records, Jäger’s vocals sit back in the mix, making his mid-to-upper range croon ethereally prominent. The metronomic drums of Esben Willems also sit back, making every crash, fill, and cowbell monumental. Like previous outings, Neverending sounds invitingly warm, with some welcome heft this time around.

Under Massy’s guidance, Neverending shakes up the Monolord formula for the first time. Whereas previous records are 5–6 tracks with an average song-length of 8 minutes, 5 of 8 tracks here sit between 3–5 minutes. Exemplifying this new approach is the opening one-two punch of “Iodine,”—which feels like a miniature YOB meets the noise-groove of Killdozer—and “You Bastard,”—the album’s strongest Minilord song. The latter propels an infectious verse-chorus cycle, supplemented by shimmying shakers, with a Riff o’ the Year candidate. Later, “The Masque” and “Invisible” hit the spot; the former has a fun blues stomp and delightfully dark verses, but the song would’ve benefitted from three iterations of its (terrific) chorus. Minilord falters, however, on “Crystal Bridge,” which actually feels too short. Excellent CoC-style sludgery gives way to Jäger alone, laying plaintive vocals atop clean chords. It seems to set up something expansive, but once the sludge riffing returns as a capper, “Crystal Bridge” ends up sounding like a song without a chorus.

Despite their emphasis on succinctness, Monolord lace ‘classic’ longer jams throughout Neverending. ”Oozing Wound” is the darling in this regard, typifying the winning chemistry Jäger, Häkki, and Willems possess when they lock in on a simple riff and give it enough space, turns, and melodic character to make it interesting yet still hypnotic. On “It’s Neverending,” Jäger vocally collaborates with Jörgen Sandström, the former bassist of Entombed, which gives Monolord its first flavoring of death-doom via Sandström’s growls. Though I’m less enthusiastic about the Sandström-led portions, the song’s gentle, melancholic dénouement makes it an exceptional eponymous closer. Speaking of closers, “Inside a Collider” weirdly feels like one at track three. It drones on a hooky riff/vocal combo for a while, but it also contains a killer doom descent I wish happened more than once.

After careful analysis, I have arrived at the same score Monolord has been achieving at AMG for over a decade. In 2019, Huck described No Comfort as the band’s transition album, which was true at the time. But as it currently stands, Neverending is Monolord’s transition album, and it’s a transition not without its growing pains. Though the songwriting falters more than it should on a ‘sharp’ album, holistically, Neverending is an enjoyable 43 minutes, making it a more-than-worthy branch on the 3.0tree.4 In the promo materials, Häkki shares that the collaboration with Massy ‘makes [him] curious about what the next chapter will be’ for Monolord. I count myself among the curious—Neverending isn’t the fully-realized version of Minilord I was hoping for, but it plants the seed.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: N/A | Format Reviewed: Stream
Label: Relapse Records
Websites: Official | Instagram | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: May 29th, 2026

Draconian is an institution. Since Where Lovers Mourn dropped 23 years ago, the Swedish death doom sextet upheld an unflappable standard of quality across seven records, marking a legendary discography matched by precious few. Everyone has their favorite out of those seven tomes, but it’s fairly uncommon to find a shared preference. This not only speaks to the diversity of Draconian’s sound despite their tried and true template, but also to the reliable nature of their compositions, capable of striking at the heart of anyone who might encounter them. I, just as susceptible to Draconian’s hooded charm, miraculously came into possession of their eighth outing, In Somnolent Ruin, albeit quite late. However, it took no time whatsoever to recognize that it was special.

As if in celebration of their reunion with original siren Lisa Johansson, Draconian amplified both the beautiful and the beastly sides of their trademark sound for In Somnolent Ruin. Heavy as Arcane Rain Fell and A Rose for the Apocalypse (“The Monochrome Blade”) and delicate as Sovran and Under a Godless Veil (“Lethe”), In Somnolent Ruin trudges inexorably through an unknowable pall with desperate fury and earnest sorrow. A dichotomy of intensity and grace embodies this hour-long funereal march, gloom and mist gently grazing the skin as the earth churns underfoot and a clouded sky thunders above. The emotions conjured through Draconian’s gothic spell, deep ripples that oscillate between tension and release in overwhelming concentrations, black out my vision and light up my synapses. This is what Draconian is known for, and what they do so well they’ve rarely done better than on In Somnolent Ruin.

Whereas Draconian routinely succeeds in songwriting across all of their records, In Somnolent Ruin blossoms primarily because of the striking performances it houses. Lisa and Anders Jacobsson shine here, each pouring every fiber of their being into their vocals (“The Monochrome Blade,” “The Face of God,” “Cold Heavens”). Anders sounds particularly venomous, his serrated growls and screaming rasps curdling my blood and melting my bones with every utterance (“I Gave You Wings”). Lisa belts like never before, showcasing a range and power I didn’t realize she possessed (“Cold Heavens”). Not to be outclassed, guitarists Johan Ericson and Niklas Nord shove thunderous riffs against each other and in concert with only the most bleeding-heart lead melodies (“I Welcome Thy Arrow,” “Misanthrope River”), creating a wonderful miasma of textures and tones that swirl with the deadly grace of smoke. Drummer Daniel Johansson and Bassist Daniel Arvidsson form a formidable rhythm section to bolster In Somnolent Ruin with great heft and shrewd patterns. Daniel Johansson in particular impresses with beats and fills that almost refuse to mimic Niklas’ riffs, instead forging his own path weaving in and out of the spaces between guitars and vocals with powerful muscularity. Working as a finely tuned machine, Draconian’s performance on In Somnolent Ruin is a rare coalescence that elevates every crest and crescendo beyond greatness.

That greatness nonetheless extends to songwriting, as In Somnolent Ruin showcases some of Draconian’s coolest pieces in their discography. With no fewer than four contenders for my Songs o’ the Year playlist (“The Monochrome Blade,” “The Face of God,” “I Gave You Wings,” “Cold Heavens”), the impact of these nine songs, both isolated from and integrated with the whole, leaves nothing but dust and rubble at my feet. Emotionally devastating, richly detailed, and imposing in stature, only one word approaches adequacy when intimating my impressions: majestic. Towering arcs that connect poignant storytelling to heartfelt expressiveness personify In Somnolent Ruin’s transition from the riff-laden challenge “I Welcome Thy Arrow” to the bitter death of “Lethe.” As I traverse that arc, marvelous transitions guide my way through twists and gnarls as beautiful in form as they are lethal to the touch. Draconian created something familiar enough to caress and comfort but surprising in its vitality and charisma, such that each fresh spin feels as compelling and impactful as the first.

I’m left astounded, alone in a clearing of brush and fog. So few discographies boast such reliable and recognizable greatness, but even fewer offer late-stage monoliths of this scale. To critique small nitpicks like the relative innocuousness of interlude “Asteria Beneath the Tranquil Sea” or the slightly less impressive “Anima” feels disingenuous—as if to do so is merely to make up for a perceived neglect of my responsibility to evaluation. Yet even accounting for this internal debate, In Somnolent Ruin is a rare triumph. A love letter to Draconian’s storied past and a celebration of their modern era, refined to staggering excellence.

Rating: Excellent!
DR: Buried Under 6 Feet of Bandwidth | Format Reviewed: Misanthrope Stream
Label: Napalm Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Official | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: May 8th, 2026

Typically, you can judge a cheesy power metal album just from its cover art. Look at the laser-powered sharks/dinos from Victorius, the D&D fantasy elements of Power Paladin, or the stuffed assembly of characters on Angus McSix, and you know you’re getting yourself a heap of cheddar. The covers are busy, bombastic, and as brightly-colored as Frida Ohlin’s hair (see band photo below). Sweden’s Rexoria bucks that trend. The cover art for Fallen Dimension looks like it belongs on a work of dystopian prog like Vanderlust. They deliver something far more light-hearted, though—symphonic power metal. Rexoria deem themselves the birth of a genre called “Royal Metal”—it’s in their name. Rex means king, and Oria means gold. Royal metal. Get it? So just what is this new tag? More importantly, would you like your royale with cheese?

Fallen Dimension blends old school heavy metal with modern power metal and a dash of keyboard synths. While they boast of symphonics in their promo sheet, Rexoria have more in common with Unleash the Archers than Mystfall. They combine the joyful energy of Frozen Crown with the straightforward approach of Sabaton. With honed pop structures, Rexoria set aside the wankery of many power metal bands and dive quickly into their anthemic choruses. Blink, and you might miss the music that happens between the opening spoken word segment and hooky chorus on opener “Metallic Rain.” If you like the bop and energy of power metal without its often masturbatory shredding, then this is for you. Rexoria has solos, but they’re in and out in a flash, all to ensure songs end in a (mostly) tidy 3-4 minutes. The downside is that where bands like Frozen Crown and Unleash the Archers do some really cool stuff with their guitars, the guitars on Fallen Dimension sound generic and bland.

Frontwoman Frida Ohlin gives Rexoria a more distinctive sound relative to more recent power metal bands. She has a gritty voice akin to Joan Jett rather than the smooth and joyful tone of Frozen Crown’s Giada Etro. She delivers some really good choruses, bringing to life the likes of “Break the Wave” and “Running with the Stars” with her energetic delivery. She even shows a more tender side on the rock ballad, “Heart of Sorrow,” a duet with Johnny Gioeli (Axel Rudi Pell). Her grit keeps the bouncy, formulaic songs from going too far down the road of pop music. It’s not that the other players are incompetent—they just don’t have much to work with. The drums are standard, galloping blast beats, and the guitar riffs are competent if uninspired. Rexoria brought in a new bassist (Adam Nordquist) for Fallen Dimension, but I rarely heard him. Usually a record like this benefits from outside hooks, and the synths tend to be hit or miss. There are some good ones, such as those on “Metallic Rain,” but on follow-up “Awakening,” I couldn’t help but wonder if they started recycling synth lines.

In general, Fallen Dimension is a pleasant listen that’s also forgettable due to its jack-of-all-trades nature. Rexoria’s plug-and-chug approach allows for an enjoyable energy and choruses that hit the right notes. Yet there’s very little to distinguish them from the power metal pack. The opening riff on “Wasted Land” sounds a lot like something from a Fellowship record, while a majority of their other riffs are hardly more creative than your run-of-the-mill radio rock music. I didn’t dislike any of the songs, yet nothing really grabbed me either. Some of the choruses stuck in my head for a little while, but without any real emotional impact. Rexoria has all the pieces in place—they’re just missing that extra something to make them shine.

Power metal serves as a bridge between extreme and popular music. It often contains pop structures that appeal to a wider audience, yet can still stretch the limits with exciting musical prose that can appeal to thrill-seeking extremists. The pitfall of flirting with more commercial styles is that it often leads to formulaic and watered-down music. Rexoria boasts in their promo sheet of millions of Spotify streams and half a million YouTube views, so clearly they are finding success. It would just be nice to see them take some risks. Too often, success gets in the way of art. I hope Rexoria can continue to find success while also developing the art of their music.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: N/A | Format Reviewed: Stream
Label: Black Lodge Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Site
Releases Worldwide: May 8th, 2026

I’ve gone back and forth about how to introduce The Ghost of a Future Dead, the eighth full-length by legendary Swedish death metal innovators At The Gates, the first with the returning Anders Björler back on lead guitar and songwriting duties (along with his twin brother, bassist Jonas) and also the final album featuring the late, great Tomas “Tompa” Lindberg, who sadly succumbed to a rare-but-super-aggressive bout of cancer in September of 2025. This introductory paragraph (and review) has been typed, deleted, reworded, deleted, approached differently, deleted, etc. so many times that I’ve lost count and given myself a colossal migraine in overthinking, over-evaluating, and over-justifying. But there comes a point where, in my month of listening to this, you have to say “fuck it,” and proceed in the direction that your gut, heart, and ears are guiding you towards. I will simply state that The Ghost of a Future Dead is many things.

What it’s not, however, is a pity party. Like anyone else with a conscience and heart, I was devastated to read about what Lindberg went through over the last few years with his battle against Adenoid Cystic Carcinoma, and was heartbroken when he died after a bravely-fought battle. You wouldn’t know he was struggling upon listening to the album, however, as Lindberg was in fine form here. His delivery has never been this potent, this acidic, with lead-off single “The Fever Mask” demonstrating his caustic delivery just fine. Elsewhere, “Det oerhörda,” the first At The Gates song written entirely in Swedish, further channels Lindberg’s rage and intensity. The fact that he performed all his parts, in one day and mostly in one take on the day before his surgery, before his bandmates even recorded anything is nothing short of impressive, as it doesn’t sound like it at all.

The Ghost of a Future Dead (24-bit HD audio) by At The Gates

Speaking of his bandmates, to say they all brought their A-game would be a grotesque understatement. To be frank, this is the At The Gates album I was craving when they first reunited back in 2010.1 Everyone went all-out, and the results are ridiculous. Both Björler brothers and fellow guitarist Martin Larsson hurl riff after monstrous riff at you, but also know how to construct some damn fine harmonies like on “The Fever Mask” and “A Ritual of Waste.” As for Adrian Erlandsson, his fills and embellishments border on the criminal. I’m sure the rather obscene breakdown section of “The Unfathomable” is considered illegal in most countries, with Erlandsson incorporating a well-placed ride cymbal “TING!” at just the right time2 to send people into a pit-inducing frenzy. In fact, with the exception of moody instrumental “Förgängligheten,” The Ghost is just fire and rage from beginning to glorious end, and all four instrumentalists paid loving, yet visceral, tribute to a fallen bandmate and brother on here.

The Jens Bogren production also elevates The Ghost into the upper echelons of At The Gates’ discography. Both the guitars and the drums radiate a profound heft and clarity. Speaking of clarity, being able to make out Jonas’ basslines is much, much appreciated, as he can play his ass off. Also speaking of Jonas, one thing I noticed was the more progressive leanings that he incorporated on To Drink From the Night Itself and The Nightmare of Being are still present at times, like on “The Dissonant Void,” might be reduced significantly, but they’re present and better incorporated, leading to a better impact overall. For 42 minutes and some change, The Ghost is the sound of everyone firing on all cylinders.

Full admission: everyone behind the scenes at Angry Metal Guy wanted to hear The Ghost of a Future Dead, but nobody wanted to review it. If it sucked,3 no one understandably wanted to say as much. If it were legitimately good, people would say that it’s said out of grief, trying to fit in with established publications, or some other bullshit reason. In this case, since it goes toe-to-toe with their best work (and in some ways surpasses them), it’s all those reasons plus receiving an unnecessary amount of grief from the comments section, crying about the audacity of giving it the score it ultimately received, despite all justification on my part. So I’ll take it on the chin for the team and state that yes, The Ghost of a Future Dead deserves the score due to the quality, ferociousness, and heart on display. If this ends up being At The Gates’ swansong,4 this is a hell of a way to go out, as they dropped another classic on our sorry asses. Awesome job, to all those involved. Rest in power, Tompa.

Rating: 5.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Century Media Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: April 24th, 2026

Since spewing out from the Swedish death metal scene back in 1996, Vomitory have been one of the most consistent acts in extreme metal. Album after album of no-frills, brutal, yet enthralling Swedeath emerged from the puke shack, and you could always look forward to getting something gruesome and sick from them. They had a long layoff after 2011s Opus Mortis VIII, but when they came back with 2023s All Heads Are Gonna Roll, it was as if they never left at all. That platter was tried-and-trve Vomitory: aggressive, heavy, abrasive, but weirdly catchy. Now they’re back in the hunt with 10th album, In Death Throes, sporting new axe worker Christian Fredriksson in place of Peter Östlund. Is this corpse still delectable and appropriately unsavory? Will their simple but effective template finally start to show signs of metal fatigue? Let’s discuss these questions at the Vomitorium.

Mere seconds into opener “Rapture in Rupture,” you know you’re in for a good, rough time. This is Vomitory in all their putrid glory. HM-2 powered riffs buzz loudly like diseased insects, drums thunder and blast, and Erik Rundqvist roars over the chaos like a sick wilderbeast in heat. The energy level is set to “Berserk Meth Nutter on Crack,” and the riffs work to peel away your skin and degrade your bone structure. It offers nothing you haven’t heard before, or even something you haven’t heard from Vomitory before, but that matters not at all because this shit kills. Lead single “For Gore and Country” keeps the adrenaline and testosterone pumping with more high-speed gore and near-grind death, and it’s a joy to be bulldozed by it. The band refuse to ease back on the death throttle until 4th track, “Wrath Unbound,” where they slot into Bolt Thrower territory and appropriate that war-loving crew’s iconic riff palette for a bit of tank-in-the-muck grinding. It works very well, though it makes me long for a new Bolt Thrower album.

Elsewhere, “Cataclysmic Fleshfront” goes extra fast and mean on those still left in the fight, at times verging on beef-brained slam in a way that will bring Dolphin Whisperer to the yard faster than any cheesy milkshake ever could. This is abrasive, brain-deadening shit, but Vomitory uses the chaos to try a few new things, and damn if those big chugs aren’t satisfying. If you were to play this at the gym, your primal ape rage would increase tenfold as other gym goers fled in terror. “Two and a Half Men” introduces a simple yet effective riff, then absolutely beats you into a bloody pulp with it for 3 in the most relentless way possible. I mean this as a positive. Closer “Oblivion Protocol” injects interestingly melodic and moody harmonies into the mix, possibly as a balm to help you recover from the 30-plus minute mega-ass whopping they just put on you. It’s a cool changeup, and it sticks out. Are there lesser moments? I suppose one could say “Forever Scorned” isn’t quite as tremendously murderous as its peers, but it’s still a good song with loads of death boulders to hurl. At a very tight 38-plus minutes and with all songs in the 3-4 minutes window, In Death Throes blows your head off and then fucks off in quick order. Nothing stays too long or feels bloated. At the same time, the songs all have their own identity and don’t bleed into a revolting mush as they easily could with a less practiced hand at the wheel.

I’ve always been a huge fan of Erik Rundqvist’s death vocals, and In Death Throes is another testament to his unnatural abilities. His roars are just guttural enough to hit that subhuman level and add the right amount of sick extremity to the material. He isn’t puking up nuclear hairballs a la Cryptworm, but he doesn’t sound restrained either. Longtime guitarist Urban Gustafsson pairs well with newcomer Christian Fredriksson and together they uncork a nonstop succession of ragged, jagged riffs designed to traumatize and harm. They even toss a killer Exodus riff into “Erased in Red” that’s better than what we actually heard from Exodus recently. Tobias Gustafsson has the unenviable task of keeping up with the rest of these maniac mauraders, and his kit work is frantic, frenzied, and just technical enough to satisfy. Once again, Vomitory stick to what always worked for them, and somehow, it works as well now as it did in 1996.

Vomitory made a fierce comeback in 2023, and now they’re showing it was no late-career fluke with In Death Throes. This is a rowdy, skull-crushing death metal opus with plenty of meat to chew on. All that meat is rancid, so all the better! Trust in Vomitory and get your ears assailed by this blasty bastard. It would be wise, my friends.



Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Metal Blade
Websites: vomitory.net | vomitory.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/vomitoryband | instagram.com/vomitoryband
Releases Worldwide: April 10th, 2026

Some bands need no introduction; somehow, Lion’s Share do. Hailing from Sundsvall, Sweden, guitarist Lars Chriss and keyboardist Kay Buckland formed the group in 1987 and, between 1995 and 2009, cranked out a smattering of respectable, high-octane heavy metal records before seemingly falling off a cliff. Lion’s Share were never condemned to obscurity,1 but they never reached the level of acclaim their fans believe they deserved. Now, seventeen years after 2009’s Dark Hours, Lion’s Share attempt to swing back with Inferno, something Chriss claims as “the strongest, heaviest and most focused Lion’s Share record of our career.” There’s a lot working against Inferno: seventeen years between albums could either stoke the flames of ambition or see them snuffed out, and vocalist Nils Patrik Johansson most recently came off a plain bad solo record in War and Peace. But can Lion’s Share overcome these challenges and stumbles to claim the throne they deserve with Inferno?

Lion’s Share raise their Inferno through the ancient metal magiks of the early 80s. Ruled by the riff as first envisioned by the likes of Exciter, Diamond Head, and Dio, Inferno sneers at any notion that heavy/proto-thrash doesn’t deserve consideration this side of 2000. For the most part, Inferno’s throwback nature proves engaging. “The Lion’s Trial” evokes Dio’s “Holy Diver” with its dramatic synth intro and anthemic structure, while “We Will Rock” teeters the line of homage and plagiarism of Dio’s “We Rock,” borrowing heavily from its chorus riff and vocals. Inferno flirts with select 90s innovations, like Primal Fearesque power metal in “Live Forever” and “Another Desire” and brooding groove in “Pentagram” and “Baptized in Blood,” which catches similar waves as Bruce Dickinson’s The Chemical Wedding. The only break from the formula is closer “Run for Your Life,” which blends doom riffs with symphonic elements and full-on hair metal sleaze into a ridiculously fun package. Inferno sees a band that doesn’t just mimic the sounds of old but realizes them authentically.

Lion’s Share sound spry as ever on Inferno. Vim drives Inferno, bestowing it great volumes of speed (“We Will Rock”), brawn (“Pentagram”), dirt (“Another Desire”) and drama (“Run for Your Life”). Inferno’s biggest surprise is Johansson, who sounds simply robust, and his Dioisms feel more like a feature and less like a caricature than on War and Peace. I think because Lion’s Share is riff-centric, NPJ doesn’t have to carry the material himself and put too much pressure on his voice. When Inferno does call on him to take the lead, the results range from the strained hiccup of “Live Forever” to the chest-pounding victory of “The Lion’s Trial.” But the highlight of Inferno is Chriss’ soloing, which evokes the gnarly excess of Vivian Campbell and Eddie Van Halen in their shreddy melodicism. Lion’s Share may have been away from the studio for some time, but age doesn’t seem to have taken its toll on Inferno.

Lion’s Share don’t do much you’ve never heard before, but Inferno is just too fun not to feel like a total victory. There’s little bloat on Inferno, bar some over repetition on “Chain Child” and “Live Forever,” and the mix is clear and dynamic enough for what Lion’s Share do. The hooks are massive without being overbearing: I’ve been humming “Baptized in Blood” and “The Lion’s Share” all week, and “We Will Rock” escapes the knock-off label with a ridiculously catchy verse all of its own. Inferno’s lyrics are silly but delivered so convincingly it rarely comes off as corny but more tongue-in-cheek: when “We Are What We Are” calls for a heavy metal revolution, or NPJ describes himself as the “Anti-Social Warrior” on “Inferno,” I laugh with Lion’s Share. Overall, Inferno crackles and rages with simple heavy metal goodness.

Lion’s Share are so easy to root for, and Inferno proves why. Good songs, good performances, excellent solos, and an undying allegiance to their craft make Inferno a blast all around. With how good “Run for Your Life” turned out, however, it makes me wonder if Inferno could’ve ascended beyond mere enjoyability if Lion’s Share went in more adventurous directions in their songwriting. But there isn’t a whiff of pretension on this thing, and I get the sense that this is exactly the record these guys wanted to make. Lion’s Share are probably not going to take the world with Inferno, but if you like your metal loud, beefy, and dated circa 1981, it’s just the record you want to hear.



Rating: Good
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mps
Label: Metalville Records
Websites: lionsshare.org | lionsshare.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/lionsshareband
Releases Worldwide: March 27th, 2026

When last we saw Sweden’s Evermore, they arrived within these halls, wielding a platter of power metal that was as muscular as it was melodic. The songs on 2023’s In Memorium hit me right in the feels, the crunch of its guitars hit me right in the nuts, and overall, I really enjoyed the record and its beefy, Avantasia-with-the-fat-trimmed-off vibe. While I had some issues with the vocal performance on In Memorium, I saw enough potential in Evermore to be legitimately excited when I saw the promo for follow-up Mournbraid splash into the sump. Once again sporting a be-womaned cover, said promo touts a “sound made of aggressive guitar riffs, soaring epic vocals, and unforgettable hooks—all amplified by a massive, neat production.” It’s a bold claim, but can the music live up to it?

It doesn’t take long for that question to be answered. On first proper track “Underdark,” Evermore sounds heavier than ever and hookier than one of those full-body Velcro suits that sticks you to the wall. In the review for In Memorium, I pointed out that that album’s lead single recycled elements of an Amon Amarth song, and interestingly enough, I can make a similar claim this time around, albeit with even more brutal source material; both “Underdark” and its preceding instrumental intro seem to rehash a melody from The Lion King soundtrack. But no worries! Once again, the pieces work so well together to kick things off that I can’t even be mad.

If you’re like me, when you saw the color palette used for Mournbraid’s cover art, you expected the music to take a turn for the darker, and if you’re like me, you were right. Each iteration of Evermore gets heavier, while still residing squarely within the confines of “melodic power metal,” and they are undoubtedly at their best when they lean into that heft. The more aggressive tracks, like “Mournbraid,” the aforementioned “Underdark,” “Ravens at the Gates” (whose melo-death riffing places the emphasis on ‘At the Gates’), and my personal anthem for 2026, the Dream Evil-esque “Armored Will,” are Evermore’s sweet spot, and they are only made more powerful by Mournbraid’s stellar production—I can’t remember the last time I’ve heard a guitar tone this mighty.

But the deliciousness of the beef makes the blandness of the more subdued side dish all the more glaring. Plopped right in the middle of Mournbraid is “Oath of Apathy,” an unfortunately titled, 7-minute slog of emotion that fails to grab my heartstrings and pulls the emergency brake on the album’s momentum. I won’t count closer “Old Man’s Tale” against Evermore since it’s labeled as a bonus track, but it suffers the same fate, even if it did manage to bring a tear to my eye once when I realized that I am officially the old man in the tale. Fortunately, every other song here is a banger, so I found it relatively easy to overlook this one blunder, although it did keep me from whipping out and slapping down my 4.0.

With Mournbraid, Evermore did just about everything I asked them to do. The vocals seemed to work much better this time around, the band dialed up the heaviness, and that guitar tone, oh God, the guitar tone! These guys have struck the perfect balance between savory and sweet in the world of power metal, and not even a mid-album detour from said balance could keep me from enjoying the hell out of this record. Greatness is coming for these guys. I can feel it in my old bones.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Scarlet Records
Website: facebook.com/evermoremetal
Releases Worldwide: March 20th, 2026