Few luminaries in metal can suckerpunch you right in the feels quite like Patrick Walker of 40 Watt Sun and the legendary Warning. Seriously, he could be singing to you about proper chinchilla care, and many would be left a sobbing, blubbering mess as he caterwauls about what treats and bathing clay to get for your new furry little friend. If you need proof of this, go give 2006’s sorrowful masterpiece (and recent Yer Metal is Olde inductee) Watching from a Distance 45 minutes of your time, and when you’re done splashing cold water on your face to remove the tears and redness, you’ll be hard-pressed to disagree. No one could predict that Walker would resurrect the project, as he seemed happy(?!) and content to continue with 40WS, but with its 2016 resurrection and now new album Rituals of Shame, all eyes are on Walker and crew to deliver.

And deliver, they did. Just like its immediate and legendary predecessor, Rituals is 45 minutes of a band taking its dear, bittersweet time to wrest every milliliter of sadness out of you. From the opening seconds of the title track, Walker and 40WS bandmate Wayne Taylor smother you flat with subdued riffs and simplistic yet effective melodies, even before a single word is muttered. But once Walker begins singing, ho-boy, that familiar yearning ache returns in full depressing force. Weathered by years of life experiences, Walker’s bellowing vibrato haven’t lost an ounce of effectiveness. In fact, they’ve become more potent over time, channeling that feeling that can only be delivered by someone who’s been through various wringers and back through honest conviction. It feels like they never disbanded, only resting until the time is right.

The other four songs also ensure that no light escapes or gets in. Closer “Teacher” hits with the same level of effectiveness as “Bridges” and “Footprints” did on Watching, but not taking as long to do so. Returning bassist Marcus Hatfield and new drummer Andy Prestidge (also of 40WS) added just enough variations of fills, rhythms, and flourishes, but mostly kept to a simple, heavy, and driving sound, again amplifying the anguish conveyed by Walker, his lyrics, and voice. And that’s the key to the effectiveness of Rituals and Warning as a whole; you don’t need flashiness, technical proficiency, or tricks and studio wizardry to be effective. Sometimes, brutally transparent honesty, wide-open space for your instruments to breathe and reverberate, and your emotions in the here and now are more than enough to get your message across.

It doesn’t hurt that Rituals is a massive improvement in some areas in terms of mastering and production. You can hear and feel Hatfield’s bass, and Prestidge’s drums don’t have that annoying “My Dying Bride in an empty bathroom” sound1 that permeated on Watching, so kudos to Tom Dring for engineering the drums perfectly. Thankfully, Chris Fullard and Adam Gonsalves left the guitars and Walker’s voice alone, as what wasn’t broken sure as hell didn’t need fixing. The only drawback to Rituals is this isn’t something I could listen to all that much. Not because of the quality, which is stellar, but it hurts to listen to on an emotional level. If you were in a good mood before listening to this, you sure as shit won’t be when you’re done. That said, if you need to purge and get whatever the fuck is making you sad out, I can’t think of a better album to do so with.

And that’s the… I refuse to say “appeal,” but I’m at a loss for words otherwise, of Warning. You don’t go into their music for gains at the gym, to romance your significant other, or to bask in someone’s ability to up and down a fretboard as fast as humanly possible. You listen to Warning to reflect, to purge, and to feel. And if you’re anything at all like me, you’ve been waiting a damn long time for a worthy follow-up to Watching from a Distance. Thankfully, Warning gave us exactly that. Welcome back.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Relapse
Websites: warningdoom.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/warningdoom | instagram.com/warningdoom
Releases Worldwide: June 19th, 2026

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Got my fucking BEAUTIFUL red vinyl copy of Cryptworm's new masterpiece. Does NOT get much better than this. 2026 AOTY contender for me, of course.

#metal #DeathMetal #vinyl #Cryptworm #2026Albums #2026Records #Bristol #BristolMetal #UKMetal #UKBands @wendigo @HailsandAles

Does Void of Light refer to a source of luminescence, or is it shorthand for its total absence? The group might know something about the latter, hailing as they do from the northerly latitude of Glasgow, Scotland. Their musical medium—a sludgy, atmospheric post-metal—also reflects a dichotomous embodiment of light and dark: often crushingly heavy and thematically bleak, but also upliftingly melodic. Asymmetries—another nod to duality and imbalance—is a debut four years in the making, drawing together the fragments of brutality and reflective ambience from the preceding EPs into a bold statement on who Void of Light are. And decisive that statement certainly is.

Void of Light’s approach to post-metal is rich and dynamic, layering leaden riffing, melancholic melody, and flexible tempos around one another to augment the music’s ability to captivate. Strikingly, flatteringly akin to Deadly Carnage in the expert intermingling of delicacy and harshness (“Still the Night Skies”) and an ever-evolving rhythm, the album flows gracefully. Dips into The Ocean of steady, progressive builds, tangles with LLNN-levels of skull-bashing heaviness (“Mirrorings”), and even flirtation with black metal (“Ends,” “Mirrorings”) compliment a nuanced, emotional soundscape with heart and bite.

Asymmetries by Void of Light

The magnetism of Asymmetries is felt gradually and with progressive strength, like approaching a planet’s gravitational field. Things begin almost understatedly in “The Passing Hours,” with a loose, modulated melody and a steady onward crush that only hints at the depths to come. That is, before the final act gives the game away when soft singing gives way to a jubilant guitar solo over the rush of blackened percussion: a dramatic backdrop for the final reprise. These soaring, energetic guitar lines weave in and out across the record, communicating joy and bittersweet blueness as they variously dance (“Silver Mask,” “Ends”) and float (“The Passing Hours,” “Still the Night Skies”) over the comparative bluntness. Gentle (“The Passing Hours,” “Ends”) and impassioned (“Silver Mask,” “Still the Night Skies,” “Mirrorings”) cleans add still more layers of emotion as they move in pitch and volume with or in brilliant opposition to the instrumentation, and equally ardent screams (“Silver Mask,” “Still the Night Skies”). None of this would be half as stirring, however, were it not wrapped around the multidimensional rhythmic core that spills over from the percussion to riffs and vocals alike. Rippling fills and agile rolls thread texture upon which singing floats or screams rain down (“The Passing Hours,” “Mirrorings”). Frequent slides into snappy off-beats (“Silver Mask,” “Ends”) and impressively rich, cascading blackened tirades (“Ends,” “Still the Night Skies,” “Mirrorings”)—the kind you’d expect from Panopticon—intensify already incendiary peaks where aforementioned guitars dance or soar.

Asymmetries, as a name, can only be used complimentarily here; perhaps the worst that could be said is that the album might get even better as it progresses. If I had to be incredibly harsh, I would point to the oft-repeated pattern of songs lapsing midway into stripped-back plucking and singing before the reprise of heaviness. Even then, songs don’t sound the same, and the formula is an effective conduit for tension and emotion, formula though it may be. Really, though, Asymmetries feels ideally formed and structured to deliver the maximum impact as it is: the rhythms growing more fluid and restless, the layers of sung and screamed vocals more multiplicitous, and the returning spaces of poignant ambience serving to gradually dial up the pathos as well as the more tangible force of the riffs, drumbeats, and roars. If the ascendant singing in the final act of “Silver Mask” lifts you up, wait until “Still the Night Skies,” and the cascading multitracking on “Mirrorings”. If “The Passing Hours” jolts you into attention with its final forcefulness, wait until the sudden savagery that closes “Ends” and then how the following songs stack this ardour with that singing, and the consistently gorgeous waves of clear and hazy melody.

Asymmetries’ power was not instantly obvious, but with every listen its grip grew tighter and the sky around it lost its colours as they were drawn into the void. Void of Light effectively communicate a dichotomy between light and shadow in their sad, uplifting, harsh, fragile debut. And if this is where they’re starting from, then heads, hearts, and score-safety-counters everywhere will need to watch out in the future.

Rating: Great!
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Ripcord Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: April 3rd, 2026

#ThursDeath this week is new LP 'Infectious Pathological Waste' the almighty CRYPTWORM from Bristol, UK just released. The cover is gross/gory, so attached here is an image of the red vinyl that I have ordered and is on the way to me now. WHAT a record.

https://cryptworm.bandcamp.com/album/infectious-pathological-waste

Cryptworm are one of my favorite metal bands, and this is my AOTY for 2026 so far. Gonna be tough for something to beat it. Nasty, thick, killer production and riffs.

#metal #DeathMetal #Bristol #UKBands #UKMetal #Cryptworm #2026Albums #2026Records #riffs @HailsandAles @wendigo @guffo @rtw @swampgas @c0m4 @nnenov @AlfeeDee @pephorror @umrk @Kitty @flockofnazguls

UK disgusting death metal fiends Cryptworm have been quite prolific since 2022. Featuring members of Cryptic Shift and Rothadas, their Spewing Mephitic Putridity debut was a nauseating dose of raw sewagecore that made Autopsy seem hygienic by comparison. They followed that up barely a year later with Oozing Radioactive Vomition, and things felt a bit rushed and less impactful. They wisely took some time off thereafter, and now they return with third outing, Infectious Pathological Waste. While their overall approach hasn’t changed much from album to album, the quality of the writing has varied. This time, it feels like they put a bit more thought into the compositions, and some of the vile charm of the debut resurfaces through the slime and scuzz. Nothing does the heart good quite like seeing a happy Cryptworm!

Opener “Gallons of Molten Hominal Goo” greets you like a decaying old friend, and the gruesome, repulsive sounds contain the distinct aroma of early Carcass. This lump of excrement could have appeared on Symphonies of Sickness and fit like a maggot in a gunshot wound. The riffs are fairly rudimentary but have weight, and the vocals by Hanyi Tibor (Rothadas) are a cross between an industrial garbage disposal and a frat-house beer-belching contest. They are fucking disgusting, purulent, and utterly incomprehensible, but damn if they aren’t entertaining. “Maimed and Gutted” is a standout, going for a frantic thrashy panic attack with Cannibal Corpse-isms buried in the basement. It’s a road-grader of a brutal death song that veers into slam territory at times, and the riffs are greasy, sticky, and bellicose. My favorite macabre ditty is “Embedded with Parasitic Larvae,” where, intentionally or not, Tibor sounds like an undead version of the Swedish Chef from The Muppet Show. I cannot tell you why this enhances my enjoyment as much as it does, but fuck yes, Chef!

Infectious Pathological Waste by Cryptworm

On “Drowning in Purulent Excrementia,” they go extra slammy, and kitman Jamie Wintle starts to hit something that should be the pong snare, but it sounds like he’s beating on a skull or a femur. It’s weird, but I kinda like it, and it’s way better than that godawful PONG-PONG-PONG sound some tech and slam bands foist on you. Not every track is a sure-fire hit though, with “Gastrointestinal Seepage” feeling a bit too leaden and lethargic, though I appreciate Tibor’s extra nasty vocals where he seems to be coughing up a hairball full of razor blades and asbestos. I could complain that this feels like a very one-note album, but what death metal album isn’t really? At a tight 32 minutes, it goes by fast enough, though several tracks do have bloat issues that crimp enjoyment. The style Cryptworm opt to play necessitates keeping things in a 3-4 minute window, and when they push further, things get ropey and dopey.

Tibor does a tremendous, unpleasant job on vocals, sounding completely inhuman at all times. His unbelievably cartoonish subterranean croaks are a thing of hideous beauty, and I can’t get enough of them. His guitarwork is also to be applauded, borrowing the most objectionable bits of gristle from Autopsy, Cannibal Corpse, and Incantation to fuel the Cryptworm diet. Some of the leads are quite hooky, and I especially love the big beefy power chugs that dot the landscape. As on Oozing Radioactive Vomition, however, the songwriting can be inconsistent, and they don’t always know when enough is enough. There are some sick burners here to aggravate the savage altered beast, but a few tracks feel underbaked and deliver weaker tentacle slaps.

Cryptworm are a band I can’t help but root for as I root around in their repellant leavings, but I want them to be MOAR consistently deadly with their offal hammer. There’s plenty of fun stuff on Infectious Pathological Waste to marinate in, and it all reeks of the slaughterhouse. When it’s good, it’s rurl good. When it’s just okay, it’s still pretty fookin’ entertaining. Someday these chaps are gonna get their maggot larvae in a row and then, watch out! Until then, there are worse ways to kill brain cells than these odious odes to the grave.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Me Saco Un Ojo
Websites: cryptworm.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/cryptworm | instagram.com/cryptwormofficial
Releases Worldwide: March 27th, 2026

In 2019, English retro metal maniacs Aggressive Perfector came out of nowhere to blindside me with a nasty mash-up of classic 80s metal, speed, and quasi-blackened evil called Havoc at the Midnight Hour. It was an endearing nostalgia ride through the early days of extreme metal, stealing body parts from Venom, Mercyful Fate, and beef-brained thrashers like Rigor Mortis and Nasty Savage. It was rough around every single edge, but it packed the same kind of past-obsessed punch as Deceased and made me love it. It took these sonic miscreants some time to get back in the marketplace with new material, but Come Creeping Fiends promises to have everything from the debut turned up to 12.5 and then some. And in this, they aren’t fibbing. This is another slab of over-the-top excess in the name of unholy overkill, and it sounds like a bunch of local bar bands covering Venom’s early material after too many shots of Jägermeister. That’s a good thing, right? RIGHT??

If you like your metal loud, unhinged, but oddly melodic and catchy, you came to the right Satanic mass. Opener “Dead Undead” is a wild and woolly smush of Venom and early Mercyful Fate with some Desaster crammed in to see if the mixture explodes. It does. This thing is hairier than Yours Steely with a full midvinter pelt, and just as fragrant. It’s not far from the usual Deceased output, and frontman Dan Chainsaw (formerly Dan Holocausto) sounds a whole lot like the legendary King Fowley as he roars, rages, and retches against the dying of the light (and the closure of the All-You-Can-Eat $8 buffet at King Egg Dynasty Kitchen). His vocal excess is excessive, and it’s laid on top of a weird collection of traditional, thrash, and NWoBHM guitar segments without much thought given to how well it fits or doesn’t. You go from a Sodom or Desaster riff one minute to something from Motörhead’s Another Perfect Day era, and though this hodge-podge recipe seems ill-advised, it works, and the song is stupid, brainless fun. “Strange Companion” sounds like a lost hit from Deceased, and I loved it the moment it assaulted my ear sockets. It’s bombastic but melodic and memorable, though you should never try to sing along with it in public, ever. “Fiend in You” keeps the strange times rolling with a number that’s hooky and hard rocking but extremely confrontational vocally. It reminds me of the days I worked for my older brother doing construction during summers in High School, and basically just got screamed at for 10 hours a day. I like it anyway, though!

“Obscene Cult” robs Candlemass blind of the riff from “Bewitched” and repurposes it for much nastier deeds done way cheaper than dirt. You won’t be able to unhear “Bewitched,” so it sounds like some absolute nutter is screaming over the song about Satanic masses and corpse defilement. “Harlot’s Curse” is the most ambitious track in that it dumps the most 80s influences into the smoothie machine, hoping for a new taste sensation. You’ll hear about 20 bands you know by heart in the riffing and song structure, but somehow it all coagulates into a functional song of its own. Penultimate cut “Return of the Axe” deserves special praise as the most frenzied and unstable track, thrashing and bashing for all its worth. It’s a silly but captivating piece of caveman metal, and I can’t help but want to adopt and raise it as my offspring. At a tight, no-blubber-allowed 30 minutes, Come Creeping Fiends rip rides over you like a nitro-fueled earthmover. You will be flattened, and you will enjoy it.

Aggressive Perfector make a lunatic racket, and the best parts come from the guitarwork by Dan Chainsaw and drummer/guitarist/keyboardist, Intimidator. These goons are like a living codex of 80s metal riffs and harmonies, and they regurgitate the olden sounds in strange new patterns to craft wildly entertaining tunes. The thrash leads are nice, but it’s the classic metal lines that really shake my lizard brain. Every track has at least one riff that activates my inner teenage idiot, and I appreciate that. Vocally, Dan Chainsaw goes all in, getting himself committed to the nervous hospital with his insane screams, rasps, roars, and unusual attempts at “singing.” Medically speaking, the dude has some screws loose in his tonsils, but wow, is it fun to hear him come unglued.

Come Creeping Fiends takes the chassis of the debut and welds spikes, spears, and buzzsaw blades all over it. It will harm all who listen, but in productive, character-building ways. If you have non-metal-loving friends, trap them in an enclosed space and force this on them loudly as you watch their panic and terror. This is what is best in life! Let these creeping fiends in and see how it goes.



Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Dying Victims
Websites: aggressiveperfector.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/aggressiveperfectorband | instagram.com/aggressiveperfector
Releases Worldwide: March 27th, 2026

Independent U.K. undergrounder’s, Unmother, have been holding a mirror up to urban dystopian dehumanization since forming in 2019. Their 2021 debut, Lay Down the Sun, garnered significant underground acclaim that, according to the promo kit, established Unmother “as a restless and forward-thinking presence within the scene.” Foregoing the nature-scapes and mythological motifs of other post-black metal outfits, Unmother draws inspiration from the streets and, with their sophomore effort, State Dependent Memory,1 examines “urban isolation, inner dislocation, and moral decline, reflecting a world formed by concrete environments and social erosion.”2 After swapping their first “V” vocalist, Venla,3 for their second, V. (VOAK), Unmother prepares to take the next step on their evolving musical journey. Does State Dependent Memory offer a solution that might save our base, dehumanized society, from itself, or will it amount to so much piss in the wind?

State Dependent Memory crackles with gritty, asphaltic energy, casting Unmother as conscientious agitators, decrying societal urban decay in veins similar to acts like Chat Pile or Ashenspire, even if avoiding any direct auricular comparison. Departing from the rawer, denser claustrophobia of Lay Down the Sun, Unmother sought slightly warmer sonic climes on State Dependent Memory, weaving undulating post-metal textures into its mostly traditional black-metal framework. Sure, plenty of blast beats and tremolos (“My Armor,” “Bear Hug”) remain, courtesy of drummer B. and guitarists Azoso and Declwa (who also handles bass). Still, it’s what Unmother does with the spaces between that adds the most character, which begins with the varied vocal approach of V., who, like Attila Csihar, possesses a wider range of barks, croaks, shouts, and screams than his more one-dimensional predecessor, whose hissier, raw-blackened rasp overpowered much of Lay Down the Sun for me. Without dulling any of the sharp edges that, well, make them edgy, Unmother benefits from their take on “post” as a counterpoint to tradition.

My Armor by Unmother

State Dependent Memory tips the scales of orthodoxy with atmospheres that are as hypnotizing as they are abrasive. Pensive and creepy, the leads that skulk through the shadowed alleys of “Modern Dystopia” are effective and shroud the track with an almost Marilyn Manson-like pall, while Declwa’s bass notes thrum and throb like slow-strobing traffic lights on a dark, misty night. Venla makes a guest appearance here as well; his croaking rasp at this dose ups the fear factor and complements V.’s tortured delivery. Satisfying, too, is the eerie, haunted-jewelry-box melody and desperate howling of V., which make up the slower-paced interlude within the trad-black assault of “Bear Hug,” offering a sprinkling of Shining-like glitter. Ironically, the most black metal track on State Dependent Memory is Unmother’s cover of “Αττική – Βικτώρια” (“Attiki Victoria”) by Greek synthwave outfit ΟΔΟΣ 55, which distills the eight-minute-long original’s main melody down to a viscerally efficient, tremolo-forward beast. It’s poppy, new-wave-esque movements, filled with an almost hopeful melodicism, are set effectively against V.’s pleading screams and shouts.

Angeliki Mourgela’s mix and Roland Rodas’ master capture the essence of Unmother’s talents. With a foggy production that reminded me of Mayhem’s Ordo ad Chao, I enjoyed Lay Down the Sun but had to strain to pick out much of its instrumental intricacy. State Dependent Memory doesn’t suffer the same issue, as each instrument glows brightly in its own space, with B.’s varied drum performance and Declwa’s excellent bass work being the biggest beneficiaries. And while I can’t say Unmother wasted any of State Dependent Memory’s thirty-eight-minute runtime, closing the album with the no-burn instrumental “Magda” was a miss. The track fades in with some reflective, organ-like synths, foreign-spoke voice samples,4 and gently plucked guitar lines bolstered with tension-building but delicately strummed chords, which all continue to build slightly over the next four minutes and twenty seconds only to fade out again. No satisfying payoff, just a segue to silence. Whether this move was intentional or not, the addition of another well-executed track proper could have avoided such a deflating ending.

Acerbically moody, Unmother possesses a maturity that belies their short existence. This quartet of relative unknowns continues to carve their mark into the U.K.’s underground metal scene, and if State Dependent Memory is any indication, they may not be toiling down there for long.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320kb/s mp3
Label: Independent
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: February 20th, 2026

#NowPlaying #TheMetalDogIsNowPlaying
#OzzyOsbourne
Blizzard of Ozz
Crazy Train

🎸 Live Stream:
https://nowplaying.themetaldog.net/

YouTube Search:
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LastFM:
https://www.last.fm/music/Ozzy+Osbourne/_/Crazy+Train

Lyrics:
https://genius.com/Ozzy-osbourne-crazy-train-lyrics

Listen on major platforms:
https://song.link/s/7ACxUo21jtTHzy7ZEV56vU

#OzzyOsbourne #RandyRhoads #BobDaisley #LeeKerslake #HeavyMetal #HardRock #Metal80s #UKMetal #ClassicMetal #BandMembers

No Worth Of Man announce their arrival on the modern extreme metal landscape with The Killing Streets — a commanding and uncompising debut that merges crushing weight with cinematic atmosphere.

#NoWorthOfMan #BrutalRecords #TheKillingStreets #UKMetal #ModernMetal #Metalcore