AMG’s Unsigned Band Rodeö: Nephylim – Circuition

By Dolphin Whisperer

“AMG’s Unsigned Band Rodeö” is a time-honored tradition to showcase the most underground of the underground—the unsigned and unpromoted. This collective review treatment continues to exist to unite our writers in boot or bolster of the bands who remind us that, for better or worse, the metal underground exists as an important part of the global metal scene. The Rodeö rides on.”

Oranjeboom, a low-frills lager, holds little love in its home country of the Netherlands, so much so that its production there was discontinued until only recently.1 Why does that matter? It really doesn’t, but it is a fun fact about the Netherlands and a beer synonymous with their lineage. Nephylim hails from the Netherlands too, and, with any luck, their brand of big scope, big sad melodeath will stake a claim that lands with bolder flavor. Over the past ten years, this five-some has cut an EP and a full-length through their own determination. And now, with this sophomore follow-up Circuition, Nephylim may just be hitting their stride. Or, at least, our Rodeö crew seems to think so. Crack open a cold one and sip on riffy sadness. – Dolphin Whisperer

Nephylim // Circuition [March 7th, 2025]

Steel Druhm: Sometimes when you press play on a Rodeö candidate, you wonder why they aren’t signed because they sound so polished and professional. Such is the case with Dutch melodeathsters, Nephylim, and their sophomore opus, Circulation. Taking cues from Ominium Gatherum, Be’Lakor, Enshine, and the more progressive works of Edge of Sanity, Nephylim voyage across various styles of melodeath but always keep things anchored firmly in the Wheelhouse of Steel. After a beautifully regal instrumental opener, Circulation heats up on “Travail Pt. 2 – Animus,” which is like a glowing distillation of Wolfheart and Be’lakor with a seriously epic vibe coursing through it. The guitars riff, trill, and shimmer with a Tuomos Saukkonen-esque flair as grand orchestrations amplify the sound to herculean proportions. It’s the beast of death metal with the beauty of melancholic music, and this style has a proven appeal. I love the majesty of “Grand Denial” and the hints of Dark Tranquillity woven throughout, and the title track bears traces of Dan Swanö’s Moontower and Tomi Joutsen-era Amorphis as it seamlessly melds heavy and sadboi moments. Unfortunately, not every cut hits with the same soul-searing slash of wintery pathos. “Amaranth” is a bit too generic and pedestrian, and though “Withered” does some things very well, the writing is a touch less compelling. Elsewhere, closer “Inner Paradigm” feels like something from the later eras of In Flames, not bad, but less impactful. At thirty-eight minutes, there are bits of bloat scattered around, but nothing that’s fatal if swallowed. There’s a lot to like about Circulation, and I’m left still wondering why Nephylim aren’t signed. With this much potential, they should be! 3.0/5.0

GardensTale: From two live shows, I already knew Nephylim were good. I could not have anticipated what a masterclass Circuition would turn out to be, though. Combining the maudlin symphonic details of Fires in the Distance with the melancholy hope and impeccable composition of Countless Skies is no easy feat, but the songwriting has taken a giant leap forward. Circuition is absolutely packed with beautiful melodies, addictive hooks and enticing cascades. The flow is downright brilliant, such that even after a dozen spins, I find myself glued to the speaker in anticipation of the next stanza, the next riff, the next solo. These are linked together with transitions that are set up and knocked down perfectly, helping every track rush past in spiraling eddies like white water rapids after heavy rain. “Circuition” yanks the heart-strings the hardest; follow-up “Withered” has a more basic structure, but the amazing harmonies and powerful solo make it a standout anyway. Cherry on the cake is the top-shelf production, with meticulous mastering and a balanced mix. The sparse clean vocals aren’t great, just okay, and a few tracks end a little more abruptly than I’d like, but these are small bumps on an engaging journey that begs to be spun again and again. 4.0/5.0

Kenstrosity: Dutch sadboi melodeath quintet Nephylim graced my Bandcamp feed a few months back. I was intrigued, but did not bite. At least, not until our Kermity GardensTale recced it for Rodeö duty, at which point I dove straight in. Embodying a wondrous merging between Countless Skies, Fires in the Distance, and a light touch of The Drowning, sophomore effort Circuition garnered instant adoration from this sponge. A rarer feat, Nephylim’s latest only deepened its hold on my heart, as the opening “Travail” suite enamored with epic soars of melody, crushing riffs that ground the piece in deathly gravity, and emotive roars that shake the roots underfoot. “Amaranth” doubles down on that palpable momentum, bringing forward a fun factor that belies Circuition’s introspective character. Beautiful synths and keys dot the landscape just above that metallic verve and swinging rhythm, evoking something inherently mystical while still operating within the bounds of the human spirit (“Circuition”). As the potent pull of songs like “Grand Denial,” “Withered,” and immense closer “Inner Paradigm” continually challenge my perception of what constitutes a highlight, I find myself universally immersed, committed, and compelled by Circuition. Experiencing this, as much as I pine for new material from those great acts that Nephylim remind me of, I know in my soul that Circuition is one of 2025’s foremost contenders. Great!

Maddog: When Fenrir finally closes the curtain on 2025, Nephylim’s Circuition will be one of my few fond memories of this disastrous year. This hidden melodeath gem triumphs by embracing simplicity without stagnation. No one would argue that Nephylim’s guitarists stretch the limits of human dexterity. And yet, as Circuition buried my ears in riffs upon riffs, it dragged me into its orbit. Blending the classic stylings of Dark Tranquillity with the modern touch of Æther Realm, Nephylim won me over through its irresistible energy. While I initially fell in love with merely a couple of its songs, Circuition’s consistency unveiled itself over time. Indeed, while the closer “Inner Paradigm” was initially my least favorite song, its Shadows of the Dying Sun riffs and its somber ending have made it a highlight. Despite its consistency, Circuition’s mood changes keep it fresh. The fantastic midsection of the album progresses from gargantuan riffs (“Grand Denial”) to tear-jerking Enshine melodies (“Circuition”) to explosive choruses (“Withered”). Circuition is textbook, but it’s both a thrilling spectacle and an emotive powerhouse. Every piece is essential, and every piece is distinctive. 4.0/5.0

Killjoy: The term “Nephilim” in the Hebrew Bible is often translated as “giants” in English. Accordingly, melodic death metal band Nephylim does everything big. Riffs? Big. Rumbling death roars? Big. Thunderous rhythm section? Big. Circuition feels like a highlight reel of the serious and somber side of melodeath, with each individual song bringing something unique to the table. “Travail Pt. II – Animus” embellishes the somber intensity of Insomnium with delicate piano keys reminiscent of Fires in the Distance and heaps of symphonic bombast. The suspenseful drum beats which introduce “Amaranth” organically build excitement by layering on bass and then guitar lines before releasing the pent-up energy with a furious snarl and fiery riffs. But there’s also a tender side to Nephylim; “Circuition” adopts a melancholic and folk-tinted mood laced with deep, beautiful croons, all of which I associate with Vorna. Circuition is considerably more ambitious than Nephylim’s debut, but they never let their ambitions spiral out of control. If anything, I’d like to see them continue to develop their symphonic side that they teased in the first two tracks. Although I find the last third of the record ever so slightly less engaging, I can endorse all thirty-eight minutes of Circuition as worthy of your time. 3.5/5.0

#2025 #AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo #AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo2025 #ÆtherRealm #BeLakor #Circuition #CountlessSkies #DarkTranquillity #DutchMetal #EdgeOfSanity #Enshine #FiresInTheDistance #InFlames #IndependentRelease #Insomnium #Mar25 #MelodicDeathMetal #Moontower #Nephylim #OmniumGatherum #ProgressiveDeathMetal #SelfRelease #TheDrowning #Wolfheart

AMG’s Unsigned Band Rodeö: Zakula – White Forest Reign Lullabies

By Dolphin Whisperer

“AMG’s Unsigned Band Rodeö” is a time-honored tradition to showcase the most underground of the underground—the unsigned and unpromoted. This collective review treatment continues to exist to unite our writers in boot or bolster of the bands who remind us that, for better or worse, the metal underground exists as an important part of the global metal scene. The Rodeö rides on.”

It takes a bit of effort to assemble the fickle tastes of the Rodeö gang, as distinguished and willing as they may be. Now, I won’t say that the lure of a unsigned gem requires trickery, but with a band like Zakula, explaining their style straight doesn’t stand as an option. These Athenian speed demons slap the simplest of tags across their Bandcamp page: death metal, black metal, thrash metal. And frustratingly, that’s the truth too! But what does it mean? Chunky riffs that dance about flailing tempos with a dramatic vocal character? Kind of. How about sneaky lead melodies that tumble against bright synth crashes into whiplash thrash and manic shrieks? White Forest Reign Lullabies doesn’t make explanation easy, but Zakula does play metal with lots of twists. This is the kind of challenge for which the Rodeö crew—now with the recently demoted n00b Tyme in the mix—lives! And, also proof that they too are capable of enjoyment. – Dolphin Whisperer

Zakula // White Forest Reign Lullabies [October 25th, 2024]

GardensTale: Zakula was initially sold to me as weirdo black metal. Foul! This is clearly weirdo tech thrash, a niche I seldom dabble in. As such, I find myself more unmoored than usual, with my frame of reference limited to Stam1na and my meager exposure to Vektor, whose frontman I disliked for his vocals and dislike more for his abuse. But while a few comparisons can be drawn from Zakula to either, this is a different beast altogether. White Forest Reign Lullabies is fast as hell, frequently discordant, and seems designed to keep you off-balance. The guitars throw me off the least, somehow, though their rapid tremolos and triplets and trips up and down the scales require close attention. More unsettling are the hoarse histrionics that make up the vocals, which sound ragged and desperate and are played backward on at least one occasion, and the erratic drums that go from maddeningly consistent to plain mad. But it’s the electronics that send me over the edge. The dissonant slides and squeaks and blips have a panic-inducing effect that reminds me of VAK at about nine times the speed. Somehow, though, the Greeks pull it all together with some excellent songwriting, mixing manic melodic riffs and staccato drums in opposition without letting it all descend into nonsensical noise. Some of the tracks do swerve a bit much from one extreme to another and lose the cohesion, but more often than not this one’s one heck of a ride, full of surprises, technical wizardry, and all the drugs that are not good for you. 3.5/5.0

Felagund: I enjoy the Rodeö feature much more when I have something positive to say about the album we’re reviewing. And truly, how could I hate on the off-kilter package that Zakula has delivered? White Forest Rain Lullabies is the band’s sophomore outing, and they’ve embraced the well-trod kitchen sink approach. Sure, Zakula might arrive on a wave of thrash, but stick around and you’ll be accosted by an undertow of industrial, prog, black metal, and noise. As you struggle against the deluge, you may hear dashes of Coroner, Voivod, and even Oingo Boingo. There’s plenty of synths, light orchestration, squealing guitars, and highly augmented, blackened vocals that’ll pull you even further out past the breakers. Yet somehow, these zany Greeks pull it off. Whether you’re looking for crunchy thrash riffs (“Olethros,” “Children of Haze,”) frenzied, cacophonous noise (“Melancholy,” “White Forest Rain Lullabies”) or spacy synths (“Remains,” “Children of Haze”) Zakula delivers the goods both cohesively and effectively, something even well-seasoned musicians struggle to do. Unfortunately, in their zeal to cram more genres, instrumentation, and ideas into each song, Zakula has inadvertently delivered a record in dire need of some editing. On a six-song album, there are three tracks that clock in at or over eight minutes, and each would have been leaner, meaner, and more impactful with just two to three minutes shaved off. This certainly isn’t a deal breaker, but it does stifle the momentum of an otherwise promising album. Still, I’d recommend White Forest Rain Lullabies, especially to all you little freaks out there. 3.0/5.0

Iceberg: While I tend to follow the Germanic school of thought that order and structure rule supreme, I have a soft spot for unpredictable, chaotic music. Dolph has zeroed in on this personal weakness, and continues to poke and prod me with insanity I can’t help but love. Zakula barely manages to control their chaos across an impressive forty minutes of music with White Forest Reign Lullabies, throwing so many genres against the wall that I’d waste word count listing them here. From the deliriously quick, heaving chromatic leads of “Όλεθρος” to the relentless, across-the-bar ostinati of “Remains,” Zakula sinks their hooks into the listener and refuses to let go. Mid-album heavyweight “Melancholy” is a twisting nine minutes that feels much shorter than that, and it’s middle section is straight from a Twilight Zone soundtrack, successfully blended with speed metal bookends. Every time I’ve come back to this record I’ve found a new corner to explore, a new chromatic tremolo, a new electronic underpinning. The title track and “Ton 618” don’t hit quite as hard as their album-mates, and there could be a case for some more editing, but the amount of fat amongst these tracks is pretty minimal. White Forest Reign Lullabies marks a triumph for the Athenians, and I can easily see it increasing in score as it continues to worm its way into my brainstem. An absolute must for fans of extreme music that blows right past anything resembling a boundary. 3.5/5.0

Alekhines Gun: If metal were a snack, White Forest Reign Lullabies would be the chunkiest of trail mix. Zakula assembles a brand of blackened thrash, piano, clean vocals, interludes, and electronica in an absurd, bizarrely effective middle finger to our stance at AMG Inc. that less is more. Do you love synth shreddage? Zakula pack in enough to make His Statue Falls blush and Fail Emotions suggest toning it down a bit. Do you love blackened thrash? White Forest Reign Lullabies pack in the spirit of Urn with pained vocals pulled straight from modern Asphyx, seeking to kick arse with beer and steel-toed boot. The sincerity behind the more metal riffs serves as a surprising counterpart to the instrumental excess on display here, keeping Zakula from being mistaken for a mere gimmick band. Look no further than the opening minute of “Melancholy” to realize this band is in no way here to mess around, even if it seems like they can’t commit to a style for long enough to do anything but. Some people will cry that this album lacks cohesion, identity, and focus, and those are people who don’t like fun. Your tolerance for this album will certainly depend on your joy for madcap zany ADHD (positive) song structures. But for those looking for a walk on the wild side, come enjoy some sweet Lullabies. Or as Zakula would ask, “How can less be more? That’s impossible!” 3.0/5.0

Thyme: Three years after their 2021 eponymous debut, Greek thrashers Zakula return with White Forest Reign Lullabies. From the first swift, surgically precise riff and chaotic keyboard run of opener, “Όλεθρος,” it’s clear Zakula is no straight-line descendant of the (some say tragically Overkill-less) Big Four — no sir. Zakula’s brand of blackened thrash has an everything-and-the-kitchen-sink quality to it that not only belies its genre tags but makes drawing valid comparisons difficult. If Mr. Bungle and Xoth paid Titan to Tachyons for a threesome, you’d at least be in the ballpark, as every second of this six-song, forty-minute tornado is engaging as fook. The songwriting, especially on the lengthier tracks (“Melancholy,” “Children of Haze”), showcases what Zakula does best. And that’s providing a wealth of melt-in-your-mouth goodness chock full of visceral riffs, Xothically spacy synths, and Schuldiner by way of Van Drunen1 vocals that imbue a particular deathly black menace to each of these thrashtastically jazzy (thrazzy? thrazztastic?)2 compositions. Full of twists, turns, and surprises designed to keep the listener guessing but never letting them get lost in the woods, White Forest Reign Lullabies is an album I strongly suggest you check out. At this rate, Zakula won’t stay Rodeö bait for much longer. 3.5/5.0

AMG’s Unsigned Band Rodeö: Siren Oath – Loveless

By Dolphin Whisperer

“AMG’s Unsigned Band Rodeö” is a time-honored tradition to showcase the most underground of the underground—the unsigned and unpromoted. This collective review treatment continues to exist to unite our writers in boot or bolster of the bands who remind us that, for better or worse, the metal underground exists as an important part of the global metal scene. The Rodeö rides on.”

Are people really allowed to call albums Loveless still? One brave man from Poland, Bobek Bobkovski, seems determined to strike in the face of that shoegaze classic with his own downcast escapades of a far more metallic nature. Siren Oath, with a love for amp tones and a distance from happiness, seeks to explore every creative wile that Bobkovski has to offer, all of which fall in post, black, and riff-centered shapes. And unlike some solitary acts, the mastermind of Siren Oath relies on his proficiency in real instruments to construct his works. So with talent enough to fuel his passion, can Loveless make lovers of our discerning Rodeö crew? – Dolphin Whisperer

Siren Oath // Loveless [September 27th, 2024]

Dolphin Whisperer: Conjuring the big sad requires some level of earnestness in performance. And for an act like Siren Oath, a one-man project, that truthful pathos that adorns every crack of Bobek Bobkovski’s post-grunge-y, lightly accented drawl goes a long way across Loveless. Whether conjuring the reverb-heavy clean to bone-crushingly heavy depressive assault of Ghost Brigade (“Nothing to Be Afraid Of,” “Praying for Your Life,” “Gone Forever”) or the waltzing black metal lament of early Shining (“The Inside,” “The Saviour”), his rough but full mid-range croon—or scattered array of harsh vocal techniques—land fitting enough to his missions of sadness. And when the goal shifts toward aggression, like the bridge-to-breakdown tearing of “If I Leave You” or the groove/nu leaning harmonic scuttle of “Forced to Live”—complete with the bounciest drum performance of the album—Bobkovski hits a proper throaty howl that fills the stage as wide as his pleasantly crunchy guitars. In a curious decision, and I’m entirely unsure it’s intentional on Siren Oath’s part, many of the shortest run songs on Loveless, despite having choruses (and rather big ones at that), end not with a chorus reprisal at close but some other musical intensification like a breakdown or heavy modulation. On occasion though, certain tracks wade to heavy into post-genre guitar textures and lose the pace against the urgency that persists elsewhere. And closing track “Christantemum” plays as nothing but an exploration with a saxophone and shoegazing guitar waves. But these quibbles do little to detract from what is overall an enjoyable experience. 3.0/5.0

Thus Spoke: I consider myself a reasonably big fan of “sadboi” metal.12 With this tongue-in-cheek descriptor presented as a selling point of Siren Oath’s sophomore record, Loveless, with an additional promise of black metal, I was sold. But Siren Oath caught me by surprise by sounding absolutely nothing like I anticipated. That’s not (entirely) a bad thing. There is indeed many a tremolo riff and plenty of rasping snarls, tendencies towards the mellow that follow the hazy, almost folk-like scale progressions over shuffling drums that associate most strongly with atmo-black (“The Inside”). Even the ringing atmospheric sections (“Becoming,” “Saviour”) would be at home in most modern blackened albums, “post-” or not. What sticks out, however, are the pretensions to sludge, post-hardcore, and rock. Sometimes, even though confusing, it’s great nonetheless, like the angsty “wooahhs” on opener “If I Leave You,” the gaze-y moodiness of “Nothing to be Afraid of,” or the aggressive grooves laid down on “Forced to Live.” Yet, as the album progresses, it’s difficult not to feel the tonal whiplash. It begins to detract from the strength of the whole, in spite of the individual strengths of each track. There’s a lot to like, but Siren Oath needs to pick a lane, or more seamlessly integrate their many stylistic leanings, the next time around. Mixed.

Remember, the artists you support are people! And they like burgers!

Alekhine’s Gun: As the winter finally descends upon us, Siren Oath arrives to escort us into the cold. Loveless is a post-metal sadboi release, flirting with everything from shades of blackened ’80s ballads to modern rock sensibilities. Loveless doesn’t lack for ambition, with cuts like “Forced to Live” heaving serious scrape-picking riffs under harsh vocals, and “Praying for Your Life” operating under crooning delicacy. Too heavy to be classified as shoegaze, but not black enough to be called black metal in any real sense, Loveless seems to be unsure of what kind of listen it wants to be. Highlight “Nothing to be Afraid Of” shows Siren Oath at their most potent, with sole member Bobek Bobkovski layering his vocals, emulating Life on Venus atmospherics. While all of the music is passable, it seems he struggles to write in his vocal range. The heavier cuts feature harsh vocals which sound pained and strained, and many of the clean sections hear him reaching for notes and sounding at odds with the music. “If I Leave You” is a key example, with a verse that sounds curiously out of tone, only to hit a chorus that sounds well executed and ripped right from classic rock. This tonal inconsistency is Loveless’s biggest stumbling block. A more focused direction in either direction, and writing more in his vocal range will strengthen future releases. 2.5/5.0

Killjoy: N00b feeding times with Dolph were a tender bonding experience. He often tied us up, stuck funnels in our mouths, and poured in the foulest concoctions he could find.3 I thought such moments were behind me after recently escaping n00bhood, only for him to press me into Rodeö service on my very first day as a staffer. So it was that I became acquainted with Siren Oath, the solo project of Bobek Bobkovski from Poland. Compared to my prior meals, the quality has dramatically improved but the consistency has not. Loveless predominantly flip-flops between somber post-black (“The Inside,” “Gone Forever”) and depressive goth rock that reminds me a bit of the recent Tribulation album (“If I Leave You,” “Praying for Your Life”). The most aggressive track, “Forced to Live,” dips its toes into sludgy waters. There’s even some saxophone to close out the album, but after test-driving so many styles it feels less novel and more like another piece of spaghetti to throw at the wall. That said, no matter the direction, Bobkovski proves adept at setting the tone through gentle guitar picking, dynamic riffs, and a surprise guitar solo in “Becoming.” With a more focused approach to songwriting, Siren Oath has the potential to land the emotional punch it’s swinging for.4 2.5/5.0

AMG’s Unsigned Band Rodeö: Wist – Strange Balance

By Dolphin Whisperer

“AMG’s Unsigned Band Rodeö” is a time-honored tradition to showcase the most underground of the underground—the unsigned and unpromoted. This collective review treatment continues to exist to unite our writers in boot or bolster of the bands who remind us that, for better or worse, the metal underground exists as an important part of the global metal scene. The Rodeö rides on.”

Remember way back in the days of radio? You might have been on a road trip before with your family, and, freshly tasked with trying to find a station that works as you stray away from familiar territory, you turn the knob and land right in between two stations playing a song. It doesn’t sync up, but there’s a mystery to whether that noise worked. Try as you remember, though, you can’t find this balance between two stations again. Wist, I believe, feels this struggle, and with their sophomore outing Strange Balance, they explore the duality of their progressive and atmospheric black metal selves to see where it leads. Would you follow three black metal fans into the Epping Forest? What if they said their album only cost four pounds? Our brave riders thought it wise to say yes, and the results may surprise you. – Dolphin Whisperer

Wist // Strange Balance [June 24th, 2024]

Dr. A.N. Grier: London’s Wist is one hell of a weird atmoblack band. This three-piece outfit goes beyond the traditional Alcestian ways of working, introducing some rather interesting synth atmospheres that lend well to their weird progressive attitude. With their 2022 debut, Stone Still Settling, they only scratched the surface of their sound. With this year’s Strange Balance, they go for broke, shoving everything they can into this tiny album. The title track begins the album with a soothing, ethereal introduction that gets obliterated by a traditional frenzied atmoblack attack. Around the midpoint, it sidetracks to a bass and drum-heavy transition that feels overblown by the lofi production but stomps along all the same. After building for the next few minutes, the chaos fades and is replaced by gorgeous, reverberating acoustic guitars. For all of the opener’s diversity and interesting twists, “Betrayal” is the more divisive of the bunch. Opening with silly cackling the song erupts into gnarly guitars, gigantic, popping bass, and drum work that runs faster than a roadrunner. Using this simple riff structure, the band peppers it with reverberating guitars that feel like they are almost dancing over the surface. When the intensity peaks, the track fades away like its predecessor. In its wake doesn’t come acoustic guitars but Tangerine Dream-styled synth work. Unlike other bands of its caliber, this outro doesn’t have me gazing at my fat gut but instead has me looking to the dark sky to see if the stars are moving. And as if to signify that Strange Balance has always been here and we just walked into it, the instrumental closer, “The River Returning,” fades in with melodic, soothing guitars, adds multiple layers to the mix, and fades away as if driving down an abandoned dirt road. I wouldn’t say Strange Balance is balanced but it’s an interesting record with some unique twists I can get behind. Having never heard of Wist before, they are definitely on my radar and I’ll be looking to see what they do next. 3.0/5.0

Dear Hollow: There’s a lot going on with Wist. It’s black metal, sure, layered with a thick smog of modular synths and overlaying psychedelia à la Tangerine Dream. It’s like Pink Floyd decided to make a black metal album, but really liked Opeth’s acoustic breaks. What makes Wist stand out is that they firmly follow the ambient stylings of black metal or blackgaze but do their damnedest to stay trve to the kvlt in debut Strange Balance—the blackened cackles at the beginning of “Betrayal” would make Immortal blush. “Betrayal” is the wildest and best collision of its ’70s synth and ’90s second-wave black metal palettes, with bouncy 6/8 pagan rhythms and a chill noodling guitar line, only to collapse into a full-on blackened attack. While closer “The River Returning” also features a tasteful repetition and fades that together feels like a modernized rendition of the depressive “My Dying Bride” by ColdWorld. However, the opening title track is nearly impenetrable and painful in its densest synths overlaying high energy blastbeats and shrieks, even if its concluding acoustic passage is decent, and “Grendel” feels incredibly directionless in its fusion of slower DSBM and spacy synths, with a wonky off-key synth conclusion being its only redemption. Ultimately, Wist has some cool ideas that periodically work, but Strange Balance lives true to its name in disproportionately dense and threateningly boring sounds, violently yoinking black metal’s cranky history for an album that feels imbalanced but promising. 2.0/5.0

Dolphin Whisperer: The experience that conjures from the mystical and dated synth layers that Wist pushes against the hazy and shrill is one of an otherwordly atmosphere. In this metal world which we so valiantly occupy, it’s rare to find an album that skews both so alien and terrestrial in scope—a way in which Strange Balance breathes its name. Akin to the new age swells of Tangerine Dream, or similar punctuated by textural guitar works with Fripp & Eno, Wist finds an electronic, oscillating moan to accompany it’s cutting black metal works (“Strange Balance,” “Grendel”). Similar to modern explorations in this world by recent Krallice albums, Wist often finds a forward movement through tightly wound, treble-loads fretwork—a fuzz-loaded squeal, a bend that’s ever so slightly off, a percussive palm-mute more reminiscent of a Cynic slide than any trv kvlt act would hammer—and warbling, nasally fretless bass whines. On heavier sections, and particularly on the horror-tinged mania of “Betrayal,” Wist’s progressive black metal attack feels chanting and bouncy against the lush synth layers in the same way you might, while star-gazing, hear Enslaved if Isa were playing on AM radio at the end of the tower’s nighttime reach. Strange Balance brings fog. Strange Balance brings intrigue. And, most importantly, Strange Balance brings an atmosphere to black metal that doesn’t rely on trem-loaded, trope-chomping sounds of the recent past. There’s a world where the first track is actually the last track, giving just that more weight to its lengthy endeavor. But I’m happy to be in a world, at least, where Wist exists to steal my attention again as they continue to grow. 3.0/5.0.

Iceberg: If I’m going to reach for lo-fi black metal, it sure as hell better have some small-batch, artisanal hot sauce drizzled all over it. Dolph knows this about me, so when he hawked Wist’s latest black-metal-but-with-other-stuff record for a Rodeö, I trusted his cetacean judgement. Strange Balance—you’d be hard-pressed to find a better name for this album—does a mostly brilliant job of oscillating between cavernous second-wave wailing and psychedelic sojourns with droning synths and ren-faire-ready acoustic guitars. The synth work reminiscent of Tangerine Dream (“Strange Balance”) and old-school NES soundtracks (“Betrayal”) makes for an odd bedfellow with the black metal it envelops; but it works! The band stays in a boisterous 6/8 meter for most of the record (“Grendel” especially), giving the music a swaying quality that reinforces the air of blackened whimsy. Listening on good headphones or a quality speaker set-up is a must here; the layering of the clean and harsh vox in “Strange Balance” and the discordant outro of “The River Returning” hold many treasures for the tuned ear. The only thing keeping Strange Balance from greatness is a tendency to harp a bit too long in transitional sections (“Strange Balance,” “Betrayal”), and a bizarre closer that—while well-performed—never seems to justify its existence. But don’t let these quibbles get in the way of a refreshing, unique take on ambient black metal. For those of you who like your shrieking weird and experimental, I have to recommend you check this out. 3.5/5.0

#2024 #AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo #AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo2024 #AtmosphericBlackMetal #BlackMetal #EnglishMetal #Enslaved #FrippEno #Krallice #Opeth #PinkFloyd #ProgressiveBlackMetal #ProgressiveMetal #StrangeBalance #TangerineDream #Wist

AMG’s Unsigned Band Rodeö: Questing Beast – Birth

By Dolphin Whisperer

“AMG’s Unsigned Band Rodeö” is a time-honored tradition to showcase the most underground of the underground—the unsigned and unpromoted. This collective review treatment continues to exist to unite our writers in boot or bolster of the bands who remind us that, for better or worse, the metal underground exists as an important part of the global metal scene. The Rodeö rides on.”

In this year of 2024, artists on the rise have an untold treasure of heavy metal history and knowledge from which they may conjure works of the distorted and riffy kind. That’s how young acts like Questing Beast can come across with their self-imposed “power doom” tag without sounding too much like bearers of the odd torch who came before like Memory Garden or Morgana Lefay. Rather, Birth wears shades of power through vocalist Joe Harris, whose trained vibrato runs equal parts dramatic and powerful while still finding room to switch to a sorrowful tone. And the doom comes out to play through traditional lurching riffs, dry stoner drives, and extended harmonic melodies. But with Elder-like (or maybe a little more Lyle Mays to these ears) glistening interludes and shifting tempo structures, is this also prog? My oh my, what a journey Questing Beast has set forth for our hard-to-please Rodeö crew. But I think it’s a beast they can wrangle, at least this time around. – Dolphin Whisperer

Questing Beast // Birth [June 14th, 2024]

Kenstrosity: I am not known for being particularly picky when it comes to metal in general. However, for one reason or another, I tend to be more selective about the tried and trve ways ov heavy metal. Regardless of pedigree or outside hybridizations, when I see the “heavy metal” tag, I exclaim with much prejudice, “we’ll see about that!” Enter New Hampshire’s proggy heavy metal quintet Questing Beast and their debut full-length, appropriately named Birth. Unexpectedly crunchy grooves and frankly beautiful melodies characterize the majority portion of these pieces (“At Crater’s Edge,” “Growth,” “Titan’s Grip”). But, it’s the more consistent presence of palpable grit in the instrumentation, as companion to the smooth and crystalline pipes at the mic, which makes the magic of the record’s best moments (“The Comet’s Tale,” Beneath Red Leaves,” “Corruption,” “Call of the North”). Using this uncommonly well-realized formula as the basis for strong storytelling and musical composition, Questing Beast handily carve out a niche for themselves in the metalverse that makes the most out of their heavy metal heritage without trying to play strict homage to it. While many of their songs could use a bit more immediacy and the vocalist’s falsetto a bit more stable power, Questing Beast make a compelling case for themselves on their first try. Let’s see if they can follow through on album two! 3.0/5.0

Cherd: On paper, Questing Beast looks like a textbook case of multiple personality disorder. They refer to themselves as “power doom,” but their sound is a circus tent pitched over three rings of power metal, classic doom, traditional/epic heavy metal and progressive metal. And that’s not all, folks. “Corruption” includes the above PLUS a healthy dose of djenty deathcore. Remarkably, the band mostly pulls it all off. Their debut full-length Birth is best when it leans into the older styles of metal. “Titan’s Grip” is a fine epic heavy metal tune updated for contemporary ears. Meanwhile, “At Crater’s Edge” sees them sounding like a bouncier Candlemass. This comparison is especially apt because of classically trained vocalist Joe Harris, who hews closer to Johan Längqvist than to Messiah Marcolin. Harris’ powerful pipes and smooth-like-butter timbre, along with the clearly talented instrumentalists in this quintet, keep Questing Beast’s sound from descending into chaos. Things do go a bit soft in the middle of the record from a songwriting standpoint, but all the material before the first instrumental and after the second one is eyebrow-raising, invigorating stuff. 3.0/5.0

Itchymenace: Beast indeed! This album has a lot going on. There are elements of thrash, prog, death, classic metal and even some jazz. Unfortunately, this ambitious hodgepodge never coalesced in a way that I found compelling or enjoyable. Birth’s primary fault is a lack of a common thread or a narrative that ties it all together. I felt pulled in numerous directions, questing for a voice that would guide me through the disparate tracks. Instead, I got a lot of operatic wailing that never seemed to find its place within the music. Where bands like Iron Maiden or Judas Priest use this style effectively to balance the sonic frequencies across the mix, it feels like Questing Beast stole a vocal track from one album and tried to make it fit over another. I don’t know if it’s a shortcoming in the production, the songwriting, the performance or all three. Much of the lyrical content doesn’t help either. The call and response during “At Crater’s Edge” was about as silly as it gets without being Anvil. Musically, I can appreciate what the band is trying to do. The guitars are crunchy with a classic harmonic metal sound that I love. There are some good riffs and competent playing but that is not enough to make me want to put it on again. Hopefully there is life after-Birth. I wish I could give this a better score. 2.0/5.0

Why unicorn a band when they have their own mythical beast icon?

Mystikus Hugebeard: Birth is a righteous debut by a brand-new band that is already swinging for the fences. This album is, upon reflection, even grander than perhaps it might feel in the moment as you listen to it. During a typical spin, my focus is easily held by the crunchy, exciting riffs that dominate the tracklist, from the slower doom that opens “The Comet’s Tail,” through the energetic classic-metal-tinged guitars in “Beneath Red Leaves,” to the unstoppable pounding riffs of “Call of the North.” But the larger scale of Birth really creeps up on you. Complex rhythms (“Corruption”) and unconventional melodies (“Growth”) speak to Questing Beast’s admirable ambition, and they have the talent to pull off these progressive elements. It’s the bodacious, borderline campy vocals, rather, that make Birth feel epic and they cement the album’s lasting appeal for me. They’re full of righteous but tastefully applied vibrato, and the singer has the endearing timbre of an unrefined but uber-talented vocalist giving 110% that’s just hard to find these days. Some elements do betray Questing Beast’s green-ness in a more harmful way, though. Birth is crying out for some killer guitar solos to punctuate the riffs and further heighten the scale, but the few we get are underwhelming and come across as a bit sloppy, with the exception of “Beneath Red Leaves.” Furthermore, I think the drums can sound a little too sharp and could use a less distracting mix. Despite that, the broad strokes of Birth are a big success for me. Birth is the kind of hidden gem that’s exciting to discover, and leaves me with a big, satisfied grin on my face. 3.0/5.0

#2024 #AmericanMetal #AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo #AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo2024 #Birth #Candlemass #DoomMetal #Elder #IndependentRelease #IronMaiden #JudasPriest #Jun24 #LyleMays #MemoryGarden #MorganaLefay #PowerMetal #ProgressiveDoomMetal #ProgressiveMetal #QuestingBeast #SelfRelease #StonerDoomMetal

AMG’s Unsigned Band Rodeö: Sunnata – Chasing Shadows

By Dolphin Whisperer

“AMG’s Unsigned Band Rodeö” is a time-honored tradition to showcase the most underground of the underground—the unsigned and unpromoted. This collective review treatment continues to exist to unite our writers in boot or bolster of the bands who remind us that, for better or worse, the metal underground exists as an important part of the global metal scene. The Rodeö rides on.”

Does Poland evoke the heated and stinging breeze of the open desert to a lost mind? No? Sunnata likes to think otherwise, or at least it’s their life’s mission to expand on the ideas of exotic scales, eerie harmonization, and chanting repetitiveness to match the power of shifting sands in their homeland. Back in 2021, our very own Cherd had a tough time coming to terms with what these Eastern bloc mystics conjured on Burning in Heaven, Melting on Earth. But now a few years wiser, ever iterating,1 and pursuant of their own self-produced visions, can Sunnata sway both our grumpy grandpa Cherd and his crack rodeo crew with Chasing Shadows? – Dolphin Whisperer

Sunnata // Chasing Shadows [May 10th, 2024]

Cherd: I wasn’t terribly keen on Sunnata’s 2021 record Burning in Heaven, Melting on Earth, so I passed on reviewing their follow-up when it landed in the promo sump. Then Dolph decided to go and write a whole damn Rodeö about Chasing Shadows, so I figured I’d better give my two cents after all. Chasing Shadows is a definite step up, thanks to the heavy dose of 90s grunge these Poles have injected into their psych/stoner doom. I’m sure you’ll be sick of reading the name Alice In Chains by the end of this article, but good god do the vocal harmonies call them to mind. The strongest tracks, like “Torn” and “Saviour’s Raft” rely heavily on these. Meanwhile, when the band leans into their “exotic” side—vaguely Middle Eastern motifs—as they do on “Wishbone” and “The Tide,” the songs drag. There’s fat to trim across the album’s 60+ minutes, especially the throwaway closing quasi-dance track. That said, the eight-minute “Hunger” earns its entire runtime with a hypnotic tempo and the record’s best build up. There’s a lot to like in Chasing Shadows, even if there is some bloat. 3.0/5.0

Maddog: Sunnata’s Chasing Shadows is an hour of shameless psychedelia. Take Dvne riffs, add a pinch of Mayhem in Blue-era Hail Spirit Noir, and pour a bucket of fuzzy stoned melodies on top, and you get the gist. This recipe is a blessing and a curse. Chasing Shadows’ most well-formed pieces hit hard. When Sunnata focuses on developing melodies, they hold me transfixed, like on album highlight “Torn.” When Sunnata focuses on buildups, they whisk me out of the world and onto a dramatic ride (“Chimera”). When Sunnata focuses on rhythmic sections that hypnotize the listener, they conjure a beautiful soundscape, like the primordial chorus of “Hunger.” When Sunnata focuses on rock-solid bass lines, they add power and depth to their atmosphere (“Adrift”). But sometimes, Sunnata focuses on nothing. Even the strongest cuts overstay their welcome with meandering fuzz. As the album progresses, some full tracks get swallowed by tedium, and the moaned vocals become grating; neither undivided attention nor psilocybin can save songs like “The Sleeper” from fading into the background.2—Still, Sunnata has a talent for writing sludgy psychedelic passages that stand out from their peers. If they can trim some low-hanging fat and focus on their strengths, their next record could be a gem. 2.5/5.0

Dolphin Whisperer: Chasing Shadows seems to know exactly what it is—a dry, desert-wandering, bass-heavy affair that leans into psychedelia via shifting repetitions. And Sunnata seem to have figured out exactly how they want to explore this meditation—heavy and dark Alice in Chains vocal melodies, twangy stoner guitar refrains, and song drives that creep ever faster into their snaking swirl. Though, throughout this dusty adventure, guitar passages resemble less of the easy-to-digest percussive draws of a band like Kyuss and more of the modal and trilling explorations of similar sounds that you’d hear in an occult act like Sabbath Assembly. (“Chimera,” “Wishbone”). And on longer cuts, at least before Sunnata achieves maximum throttle, doom inflections, fat bass rumbling, and laser-pointing drone that bubbles and bakes and broils the experimental madhouse of Obake. But most importantly, as a fever dream like this sound, Chasing Shadows maintains a warping yet consistent tonality that slowly and sneakily lures as the rattle of a hissing pit viper to a lost and dazed traveler. It does, however, require a hefty dose of patience and practice to maintain a footing the whole way through its hour-long trial, its various interludes and strange darkwave closing adding little. To curious ears, though, Chasing Shadows will be an easy listen, despite its limited bag of tricks and hefty presence, and those who buy in fully to its tonal landscape may find even more rewards. 3.0/5.0

Itchymenace: Chasing Shadows reminds me of the Albert Camus story, The Adulterous Woman. In fact, the cover art seems plucked directly from the final scene in which the protagonist runs out into the Algerian desert a changed woman after realizing life with her husband will never fulfill her. The music provides the perfect soundtrack for the existential metamorphosis she goes through, or that anyone might go through when they peel back the delicate layers of life and search for deeper meaning. I did not expect to like this as much as I do, but Sunnata has created a masterpiece. This album drags you across a jagged desert landscape and drenches you in rich, dreamlike musical passages that leave you questioning your very existence. The music is complex, varied, heavy and meditative. The arrangements are deceptively simple to make the journey seem easy—until you realize you’re not in Kansas anymore. Especially noteworthy is how the bass guitar drives the compositions. Bassist Michal Dobrzanski’s tone is massive but somehow leaves plenty of room in the soundscape for Szymon Ewertowski and Adrian Gadomski’s intricate guitars and vocals. Drummer Robert Ruszczyk keeps a ritualistic tempo that seamlessly moves the caravan forward through the heart of darkness. If I were to try to describe this to a metalhead, I’d say imagine Alice in Chains trying to play Gorguts by way of Earth. Brilliant! Original! Frightening! And a new experience with every listen. 4.5/5.03

Mystikus Hugebeard: True to Sunnata’s desert prog premise, Chasing Shadows is a mirage: captivating, frustrating, and an incomplete vision of something spectacular. At sixty-two minutes long, the length will likely prove to be as controversial as it is intentional; repetition is key to Sunnata’s songwriting, as it weaves a surreal soundscape through thick, drawn-out riffs. Sometimes, it’s entrancing. Other times, I’m just bored. The more evolutionary tracks are where Chasing Shadows come to life. The off-key vocal layers and thick, fuzzy guitars are in “Chimera” and “Saviour’s Raft” take their time to progress into explosive riffs that feel earned by the buildup. Even a less progressive track like “Torn” works just by nature of how palpable the desert atmosphere is, with the chugging bass, elusive guitar lines, and hallucinatory vocals hypnotizing the listener. “Hunger” and “The Sleeper” also have a satisfying chug to them but feel emptier, with resolutions that are satisfying in the moment but still less memorable than those from earlier tracks. The worst offenders, “Wishbone” and “The Tide,” are almost completely aimless and are fully devoid of the strong atmospheric qualities that makes the rest work. The emulation of an endless trek through an endless desert is uncanny, and the aimlessness can work when paired with hypnotic songwriting like in “Torn,” but overall the lack of a meaningful destination or payoff within the already less engaging tracks only gets worse as the album drags on, and it slowly begins to drown out the parts that work well. I really love the thematic intent behind Chasing Shadows, which only makes the final result all the more frustrating that it falls short of being a truly great desert odyssey. 2.5/5.0

#2024 #AliceInChains #AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo #AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo2024 #ChasingShadows #DoomMetal #Dvne #Earth #HailSpiritNoir #IndependentRelease #Kyuss #Obake #OccultRock #PolishMetal #PostMetal #PsychedelicDoomMetal #PsychedelicRock #SabbathAssembly #SelfRelease #StonerRock #Sunnata

AMG’s Unsigned Band Rodeö: Brazen Tongue – Of Crackling Embers and Sorrows Drowned

By Dolphin Whisperer

“AMG’s Unsigned Band Rodeö” is a time-honored tradition to showcase the most underground of the underground—the unsigned and unpromoted. This collective review treatment continues to exist to unite our writers in boot or bolster of the bands who remind us that, for better or worse, the metal underground exists as an important part of the global metal scene. The Rodeö rides on.”

What is distance but an imaginary barrier between creative minds. At least in our (over)connected modern times, proximity does not define whether minds of similar metal inclinations can interact as a band. Such is the story of Ethan Gifford and Scott Skopec (Headshrinker, ex-Polyptych), who both hustled many moons ago about Chicago with a band, Dycanis, that never quite made it beyond demo and gig grind. Gifford then moved to Sweden, and Skopec continued his musical pursuits until they too went dormant. But riffs find a way and Brazen Tongue is a result, the amalgamation of two minds who share ideas hat have tunes in the world of Gifford’s new Gothenburg home, as well as the rip and curl of American thrash (and whatever else crosses their fancy). Throughout Of Crackling Embers & Sorrows Drowned, you may hear the sullen growl of Rapture, the bright quirk of Old Man’s Child, the anthemic melting similar to an act like Black Sites. But most of all, you’ll hear the efforts of two friends who made it happen. Does it make it happen for our crack reviewing team, though? Of the opinions of cranky elitists and socialites dour, you will soon know. – Dolphin Whisperer

Brazen Tongue // Of Crackling Embers and Sorrows Drowned [June 7th, 2024]

Dr. A.N. Grier: It’s been a hot minute since I’ve contributed to a traditional Rodeö piece. So, I guess I’ll grab the debut record from international melodeath outfit Brazen Tongue. I mean, I like melodeath, so why not? Though it appears this band has been around since 2016, this year is the first time we’ve seen any output from this two-piece group. Perhaps they needed to hunt a bassist and drummer down to round out the release. I don’t know. Jumping right in, the back-to-back “The Weight of Self” and “Metaviral” kick-off Of Crackling Embers and Sorrows Drowned on a good note with some solid melodeath mood and riffage. The latter track, in particular, sees the band in its true light, delivering vocals that recall Lamb of God’s Randy Blythe and solid melodic moments on the back half. “Last Train from Myrdal” is one of the better tracks on the album as it delves deep into melodic territories, incorporating clean guitars and big, booming clean vocals. But, it avoids being one-dimensional with its alternating calmness and pissed-off attitude. What is one-dimensional is “Beneath the Broken Trees.” Only when the pace slows and the build begins does anything of value surface on the track. “The Recidivist” also suffers the same ailment, opening with an annoying introduction that finally gives way to a hard-hitting chug and powerful chorus mixed with clean and growling vocals. Unfortunately, the song has a tough time deciding when to end and drags on far too long for what it’s offering. But the closer, “The Maddening Symmetries,” is the most frustrating track on the album. Clocking in at over ten minutes, nothing sticks until we arrive at the seven-minute mark. After this point, the melodic feels hit, climbing high before ending in hopeless depression. There’s plenty to like on Of Crackling Embers and Sorrows Drowned, and there’s plenty of potential. The band’s debut isn’t perfect, but I’ll keep them on my “potential” list when their next release rolls around. 2.5/5.0

Gardenstale: Brazen Tongue is a bit weird. Much of Embers and Sorrows is so frantically kitchen-sink, I’m reminded primarily of The Offering with Insomniummy growls. That’s not necessarily a bad thing: I loved Home, and when Brazen Tongue hits, it hits with a similar spark of inspiration, as opening combo “The Weight of Self” and “Metaviral” can attest. The riffs are never quite what you expect, pressing the dynamic quality of the performers who excel at keeping you on the wrong foot. The problem for Brazen Tongue is not a lack of inspiration, but guiding it consistently into great form. The Zornheym-esque bass choirs are a cool addition, but they are used haphazardly. Emotive doom centerpiece “Last Train from Myrdal” gets more unpleasant as it goes on, adding repetition and draining the album of energy, culminating in an aggravating fire alarm riff and a sudden unceremonious end. The band tries to get things back on the rails, but the epic closer swerves through its bloated runtime without frame or direction. Brazen Tongue is full of great performances and interesting ideas, which are most effective on short, fast songs where the band can skip over the bumps, but the longer and slower tracks invariably spiral out of control or get mired in their own ideas. A songwriting class or two would do wonders. 2.5/5.0

Thus Spoke: When I hitched myself to Brazen Tongue, I’m not sure exactly what I expected; after all, according to another staff member, I “don’t even know what melodeath is.” Nonetheless, my vague anticipations were more or less on the money. Twin guitar, energetic riff clamberings, generally mid-tempo, upbeat-feeling charges, a barking sort of vocal approach. Sprinkles of melancholy in the refrains but only to precipitate a turn to more uplifting, or alternately more sinister spidery stop-starting (“The Recidivist”) or chugging. Plus, a slower, doomier track with layered, softly cascading guitars that you can immediately imagine playing over a crossfade-filled montage from a 90s movie (“Last Train from Myrdal”). If this sounds incredibly vague, and non-committal, it’s because that’s exactly how Of Crackling Embers and Sorrows Drowned comes across. Perfectly serviceable, with some great moments, but totally unmemorable. Across its duration, there are examples of brilliant, energetic axe work and righteous riffery (“Metaviral,” “Beneath the Broken Trees”), and at points, resonant feelings of pathos (yes, even in “Last Train,” which I initially despised). But there are no moments that break the surface of the soundscape’s quite monotone harmonic themes and compositional patterns. No point at which—regardless of how much sound and fury the band apparently exude (“Walking the Parapets,” “The Maddening Symmetries”)—the music elicits anything more than a “yeah, it’s cool I guess.” It’s a no from me. But what do I know about melodeath anyway? Disappointing.

Iceberg: Of Crackling Embers and Sorrows Drowned is clearly a passion project for Scott Kopec and Ethan Gifford, because logistically, producing the debut album for Brazen Tongue sounds like a complete nightmare. The main duo live seven time zones apart, all composition was done via cloud-sharing, and every instrument was tracked in its own session. This hasn’t dulled the band’s compositional abilities however; there is a glut of quality material on this album. A blend of blackened thrash and Gothenburg melodeath—with shadows of Lamb of God groove metal thrown in there—OCE&SD is an in-your-face drag racer of riffs that rarely lets off the gas. The highlight here is the creative combination of guitar riffs and leads with contrasting rhythmic underpinning; see the openings of “Walking the Parapets” and “The Recidivist.” Album standout—proper Gothenburg sadboi “Last Train From Myrdal”—shows the band knows how to blend punishing atmosphere with resplendent orchestrals, even if it runs a bit overlong. And that seems to be Brazen Tongue’s Achilles’ heel; most every song here desperately needs trimming, and the overuse of individual segments is a chronic issue. Ten-minute closer “The Maddening Symmetries” is brimming with varied, epic, blackened material, but wore this listener’s ears out well before its conclusion. One can’t help but wonder if the geographical separation of Brazen Tongue played a part in the fine-tuning issues, but I hope the band keeps at it and watches their margins more closely; the potential here is vast. 2.5/5.0

#2024 #AmericanMetal #AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo #AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo2024 #BlackSites #BrazenTongue #Headshrinker #IndependentRelease #Insomnium #Jun24 #LambOfGod #MelodicDeathMetal #OldManSChild #Rapture #SelfRelease #TheOffering #ThrashMetal #Zornheym