Kerberos – Apostle to the Malevolent Review

By Saunders

Symphonic death is a tricky subgenre to nail. While there are skilled exponents, bands peddling the dramatic style tread a fine line in balancing the ornate orchestral elements and heavy-hitting metal, without diminishing one or the other of the fused components. Such as the symphonic elements feeling tacked on or the metal edge blunted. Overall, it’s a mixed formula for yours truly, though I am certainly not opposed to the style when executed well (Fleshgod Apocalypse, Zornheym, Septicflesh, Dreamgrave). Hailing from Switzerland and sporting a bombastic, prog-infected symphonic death sound, unheralded act Kerberos aim to make their mark on the scene with their second album, Apostle to the Malevolent. Not one to do the style in half measures, Apostle to the Malevolent jams a multitude of orchestral elements and symphonic flair to otherwise traditional metal instrumentation, creating a colorful sound that on surface levels ticks all the boxes for a good time for enthusiasts of the style. Kerberos manage to cram all their sophisticated ideas, choirs and orchestra into a lean runtime, clocking in a shade under the half-hour mark. But can Kerberos back up the bombast and efficiency with gripping songwriting?

The first couple of the five tracks comprising Apostle to the Malevolent will likely weed out the non-believers. Opening instrumental “Praeludium in H Moli” plays into the band’s flair for orchestral dramatics with mixed results, setting the scene for first proper track, “Near-Violence Experience.” Apostle to the Malevolent credits a Kerberos choir and orchestra in addition to the core foursome. The elaborate nature of the band’s vision is reflected in the song’s crunchy riffs, busy arrangement, densely layered instrumentation, and dueling male-female vox; ranging from operatic female contributions and a strange mix of deep male clean singing and harsher growls. It’s an ambitious tune, if a little scattershot. The impressive musicianship, countered by the overstuffed and convoluted nature of the arrangement, prevents it fully lifting off.

Vocally, the male cleans come across as melodramatic and more than a little cheesy. However, Ai-lan Metzger’s stirring vocals and accompanying choirs lend the album a vibrant voice to match the swelling orchestral touches. When traded off with the harsher variations, the impact is more forceful. On the other hand, Félicien Burkard (who also handles guitars and fretless bass) clean vox are an unwelcome distraction. Kerberos lean further into the goth-tinged symphonic dramatics on “Alpine Sea,” another example of the band’s solid skills and exuberant talents, marred by a longer than needed runtime and questionable vocal transitions. The most successful example of Kerberos’ talents resides in mid-album cut “Liar Within.” it doesn’t greatly deviate from the rest of the album. However, the ingredients flow with greater fluency, while the increased aggression, speed and thrashy urges lend some extra punch to the soaring vocal hooks and lush symphonics.

Song length remains a recurring issue. As previously stated, the album is short and sweet, though several individual tracks struggle to maintain interest across their heftier lengths (including nine-minute closer “Apostle to the Malevolent”). On the plus side, some tasty material is scattered throughout, flashing the potential for Kerberos to deliver something more substantial and fully formed down the track. Importantly for any symphonic metal project, the orchestral elements don’t sound like tacked on afterthoughts, bolstered by a bright, dynamic production. However, occasionally the instruments seem to fight and jostle for space, creating a clunkier feel to certain sections, leading to some overkill and awkward results. This may present a case for Kerberos and their additional friends to refine and declutter their sound to more potent effect. The mixed bag vocals also require some work, the attempts at deeper growls and Burkard’s questionable cleans could use some tuning up.

Symphonic metal can go either way for me, and I am often especially selective with what floats my boat. Kerberos deliver an intriguing LP, featuring enough positives to find a solid audience on board with their particular brand of grandiosity and gothy-drama. Unfortunately, Apostle to the Malevolent is a messy affair, which feels unnecessarily bloated and convoluted despite its scant length. When they hone their songwriting focus into more aggressive, urgent realms and let the riffs do the heavy lifting, the band’s potential shines brightly. There remains some solid material and classy elements, with ample room for growth and refinement for Kerberos to match their ambitious vision with tighter songwriting chops.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Self-Released
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: March 14th, 2025

#25 #2025 #ApostleToTheMalevolent #Dreamgrave #FleshgodApocalypse #IndependentRelease #Kerberos #ProgressiveMetal #Review #Reviews #SelfRelease #SepticFlesh #SwissMetal #SymphonicDeathMetal #SymphonicMetal #Zornheym

Frogg – Eclipse Review

By Dolphin Whisperer

It’s a bird! It’s a plane? No! It’s a Frogg! Hailing from the festering urban sprawl of New York City, the upstart amphibian clan skews modern in influence and modernER in attack. Pulling the rip to progressive twist of Between the Buried and Me with the focus of tight structures and virtuosic play, Eclipse as a debut full-length, spins scales and riffs in only the way that a driven tech death band can. In this day and age, of course, tech alone can’t make the only splash. But something’s in the water where Frogg dwells, something laced with all the fidgeting whirr and tongue-out gambol for which a thirsting prog fan could ask.

In sweeping flair and uptempo character, Eclipse displays a corona of youthful exuberance around its core of high-practice death metal. Death metal via aggressive, riff-based drives and scratchy, barked vocals anyway—Frogg does not play the straight and skanky vomitous mosh tunes of olde. Rather, the swamp that Frogg inhabits spews a funk that curls senses around the Cynic-enabled rumblings of Augury or the ever-flowing melody of prime Neuraxis. And though the sounds of heavy chord chugs (“Life Zero”) and tricky-picked sweeps (“Interspecific Hybrid Species”) exist along that thought pattern, in bursts of individuality Frogg tears in equal abandon from ethereal jazz fusion (“Walpurgisnacht”) and metalcore-coded guitar fury (“Double Vision Roll”). Ambient long enough to let its gasping audience realign for another round of progressive tumbling, Eclipse barrels from jumping jack percussive runs to full layout fretboard gymnastics to chirping keys alerts all in a steady and vigorous breath.

Dense and meticulous, and through a love of screeching guitar histrionics and high-spirit guitar and synth work, the splatter of Frogg’s patchwork renders clear as a Klimt through virgin eyes. Despite the seeming excess, founding mind (and primary throat) Sky Moon Clark (The Mantle) and Brett Fairchild, while displaying their talent for hyperspeed, harmonized arpeggio runs (“Dandelion,” “Wake Up,” “Interspecific…”), maintain firm drops back into developed melodies and shrill inclusions—squabbling whammy flutters, clanging pick rakes, harmonic pings—to attach madness to memory. Wearing a strong relative compression,1 layers upon layers of these dancing guitar melodies stack atop pummeling kick runs and sputters, and lockstep counterpoint bass runs,2 to construct a shifting, shuffling mass of amplified chatter that never loses momentum. And with breaks both into hand-percussion and piano-led dance moments (“Walpurgisnacht,” “Wake Up,” “Sun Stealer”), full-blown mosh bridges (“Life Zero,” “Omni Trigger”), and guitar hero antics, keeping the feet and neck and fingers still throughout Eclipse is no easy task.

Though the tech lineage waves proudly in every Frogg leap, an attachment to human touches in production keeps Eclipse from feeling like another sterile outing in the crowded genre. It caught me by surprise the first time I heard “Dandelion,” Its introductory tap-sweep bustling with a clacking dryness that exposed its slight imperfections while creating an allure of reckless speed and challenge. Many look to technical expressions of metal to be effortless, but this particular patina about Frogg’s escalating scale runs, which swirls through screaming, bent peaks and note-stuffed solo explosions, transforms the feeling of étude into an extemporaneous romp. In this playful platform, Pat Metheny-imbued guitar whimsy can crash against glitching djentisms to gentle resolve (“Interspecific…”) or even force an end-of-range guitar squeak to take center stage after an exercise of finger envy (“Sun Stealer”). Boisterous might be the default loudness setting for this kind of saturated work, but in Frogg’s and seasoned engineer Jamie King‘s hands, Eclipse finds wrinkles along its dialed lines.

Yet, Eclipse isn’t perfect. Its extreme dedication to complex construction will pose an issue to the unprepared—digesting this kind of technicality-positioned music is never effortless. The volume of riffage, the speed of every rollicking bar, the force of every abundant fill present loaded and crooked in smile, though the shorter-form execution lowers the threshold for repeated exposure. In a rose-colored vision of what progressive death metal can be, Frogg finds a freedom in fanciful melody, brief poppy breaks, and unrestrained (but not all encompassing) musical showmanship. And if a debut can unwrap as fresh as Eclipse does, Frogg may very well find the world entrapped in their sticky wiles.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Self Release
Websites: froggofficial.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/froggband | tiktok.com/@froggband3
Releases Worldwide: March 7th, 2025

#2025 #35 #AmericanMetal #Augury #BetweenTheBuriedAndMe #Cynic #Eclipse #Frogg #IndependentRelease #Mar25 #Neuraxis #PatMetheny #ProgressiveDeathMetal #ProgressiveMetal #ProgressiveMetalcore #Review #Reviews #SelfRelease #TechnicalDeathMetal

Discordant Meditation – Tragic Creature Review

By Alekhines Gun

Regardless of quality, a debut release always ensures an interesting listen. Whether paying tribute to the better bands of yesteryear or trying to carve their own way in the world, such offerings from young outfits reek of promise. Hope. Even optimism! American studio project Discordant Meditation have been crafting what they describe as “experimental death metal” for a couple years and and a handful of EP’s. They now arrive with their first full-length Tragic Creature. In this day and age, what does “experimental death metal” even mean? And is this Creature on display cursed to be viewed in a tragic light after all? Let’s meditate on that together.

Sporting a thick and in-your-face mix, Tragic Creature is here to mess your living room up and leave before you can call the police. As Discordant Meditation are a two-piece, the production does an excellent job at pushing both members to the forefront without drowning each other out.1 Justin Becker, the man behind the bass n’ drums does a masterful job behind the kit, bouncing between blackened blasts and slam-styled snare abuse. His drums are well balanced, allowing the listener to appreciate his mercurial flows between restrained fills and monster assaults, with an extra touch of flair in his china and cymbal heavy rolls. Guitarist/Vocalist Donnovan Parran sports a mean tone, straddling the line between clarity and muck, with a strained guttural shriek that adds humanity to the calculated barbarisms on display. Meshed together, Tragic Creature is a confrontational listen, loud but not exhausting, and fitting for the mood on display.

The spirit of a grimier, filthier modern Pestilence is strong in Tragic Creature. Grooves and bounces that would fit right into Obsideo or Hadeon are littered across the release, with ear-snatching assaults rarely far away. The opening swing of “Exist Alone” comes out the gate with as ugly of an earworm as you’re likely to hear, and is an instant Riff o’ the Year contender. Songs like kickoff track “Conduit” and “Formless as Water” channel the great Dutch ones penchant for alien leads that seem to touch both ends of the fretboard with energetic neck-snapping momentum waiting to throw off any sense of routine or complacency. This gives memorability to the otherwise dense mix and ruthless assault and speed of the riffs, with a few slower, slime-drenched measures creeping in for tonal diversity. Discordant Meditation are at their strongest in such catchy moments, with the ugly, unwelcoming tone of their chord progressions offset by rhythmic displays of hooks and identity.

Discordant Meditation use their hook-game to offset the otherwise bleak and oppressive mood of Tragic Creature. Occasionally lurching into Incantationisms in gloomier passages (“Passages of Obscured Lucidity”), there is not a melodic or uplifting lick to be found across the release. Given the bands statement that the album is designed to channel “Feelings of mental torment, dismal surrealism, and spiritual defeat”, this is unsurprising. A pervasive, relentless atmosphere of claustrophobia is scattered throughout the release, maintained even if individual songs don’t all match each other in impact. “Clawing at the Open Wound” is the most disposable, sounding like an assembly of riffs that would sound merely transitional in the better songs proceeding it. Likewise, title track “Tragic Creature” swings hard for an epic finale with a slower, more calculated chugging section that teases a monster payoff which regretfully never arrives. This let down right at the end seems more akin to a brisk stroll to the finish instead of the grand display teased throughout the first half. Still, at a lean 32 minutes, Tragic Creature is mercifully free from outright bloat, which helps the music impact when consumed as a whole.

Tragic Creature is a fetchingly dark debut from a young band who already have a keen sense of vision and a defined sound. As dissonance and ugly song stylings continue to stay in vogue, Discordant Meditation have succeeded in carving a small niche for themselves in an already crowded sonic scene. Skilled players and already capable song-smiths, I believe that there is better in store for us from this young duo, and I’ll be interested in their future releases. Come for the hooks, stay for the depression, and lend your ears to this not-so Tragic Creature.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: N/A Format Reviewed: Stream
Label: Independent Release
Websites: discordantmeditation.bandcamp.com/album/tragic-creature | Official Facebook Page
Releases Worldwide: January 24th, 2025

#2025 #30 #AmericanMetal #DeathMetal #DiscordantMeditation #Incantation #IndependentRelease #Jan25 #Pestilence #Review #Reviews #TragicCreature

Elyose – Évidence Review

By Dolphin Whisperer

Being true to yourself as a listener is an essential part of the reviewing process. So, at a very base level, I can say things like “I’m tired of hearing djent riffs” and “pop-infused metal doesn’t do anything for me.” And, at my core, I can know those things are true. Except, every now and again, well-crafted music comes along and bashes upon our truths like a coup de foudre to an unsuspecting heart. Such was the case when I encountered Elyose’s hook-laden, djentrified y2k platter of Déviante. And so too am I again smitten with the chug-ridden, cybergoth stylings of Évidence. The proof, as they say, is in the purple pudding.

Though incepted as a fuller band effort with the heart of an electronically urgent, less symphonic Nightwish or Epica, Elyose now falls under the primary care of vocalist and composer Justine Daaé. With collaborative assistance from djent veteran Anthony Chognard (ex-Smash Hit Combo), Elyose has shifted from pop heavy metal-rooted hop to a sound more Kemper-fied and modern. But unlike other popular female-voiced acts who sport a melodic focus around extended range rhythms, like Spiritbox or Poppy, Daaé sticks to the power of her full and trained clean timbre, finding vocal play in lush harmonies and playful percussive runs.1 Maintaining Évidence in almost entirely her native French tongue, Daaé brings both an earnestness and extra depth of pronunciation expression to each passing phrase.2 Though Évidence has an undeniable musical catchiness and air of accessibility, its bones remain too personal in aim and adoration for an industrial/alternative past, and too metal in dramatic spirit, to land neatly in a pop lane.

Despite the layers that Daaé peppers into triumphant choruses and textured verse articulations, Chognard maintains a workmanlike framing with riff accompaniment to build rhythmic tension around hypnotic synth lines. On the most electronic leading tracks, Elyose’s warbling hooks grow from subdued fluctuations to whirring guitar squeals to strobe-blaring crescendo with a cinematic scope and effortless swagger (“Mission Lunaire,” “Théogyne 2.0”). And in a manner reminiscent of the smart and slamming groove from the most successful VOLA works, Chognard weaves jagged thumps alongside powerful, character-driven vocal tethers to sink Évidence’s teeth even deeper into the urge to hit the replay button (“Ascension Tracée,” “Immuable,” “Abnégation”). Out of context, bits and pieces of the modern guitar work can feel like patchwork memories from a mind informed by ’10s djent memories, but in context it maintains a careful balance with Daaé’s unique presence.

That familiarity of riffcraft does hold Elyose from striking harder throughout parts of Évidence, though. It’s less the note-for-note déjà vu of a nasally amp-simulated tapping run or a seven-string Periphery preset note crushing than it is the overall flatness of guitar production that takes away some of the mystique that classic crunchy layer can offer. Again, many of these clips that offend in this way serve as short segues or setups for Daaé to mark with greater lasting power the peaks of each composition. And a few licks that warp and chime alongside intense bridges hold a particularly nostalgic resplendence in their carry (“Étoile Solitaire,” “Ascension Tracée”). But for a couple of tracks that follow patterns on a similar path (namely “Tentatives Échouées” and “Prête au Combat”), the escalating flow that pervades through Évidence can lose its way.

Not all pleasures in life have to be complicated, yet it would be disingenuous to call Évidence simple. While the formula for Évidence hasn’t changed much from Déviante, Elyose continues to perform with an idiosyncratic style rooted in detailed, memorable mic work and addictive, groovy instrumental backing that is hard to put down. There’s no secret to Elyose’s success—every song shoves an undeniable chorus through the trials of verses and bridges and reprisals that fall exactly where they should. But Évidence powers through the complacency of chorus worship with a voice determined to soar. The only feeling that could make the joy of Elyose’s music more rewarding is perseverance, a feeling which Évidence embodies with a glitching and gliding charisma and a catharsis-clenched fist held high.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: PCM3
Label: Self Release
Websites: elyosemusic.com | facebook.com/elyoseofficial
Releases Worldwide: January 10th, 2025

#2025 #35 #AlternativeRock #Djent #ElectronicMetal #Electronica #Elyose #Évidence #FrenchMetal #GothicMetal #IndependentRelease #Jan25 #Reliqa #SelfRelease #VOLA

Am I in Trouble? – Spectrum Review

By Dolphin Whisperer

Tagging systems and organizational hierarchies tend to steer our ideas of genre classifications toward ins and outs, yeses and nos, boxes next to boxes, tags next to tags. In reality, though—and much in the way people go about describing things as being between x band and y band—genres do have their own spectrums. And in that spirit of living in an accumulation of converging aisles rather than following the merchandising plan, sole mind Steve Wiener (Negative Bliss, Ashenheart) debuts his Am I in Trouble? project as an homage to idiosyncratic acts of this splatter art nature. From his listening youth in the oddball ’00s black metal scene to his modern existence as an experienced, colorful auteur, will Wiener’s first outing as Am I in Trouble? earn him a spot at the top of the charts or in the time-out corner?

With one hand holding the play and whimsy of progressive music and the other gripping the flight of post-leaning drama, AIiT inserts various borrowed extreme elements as it sees fit across Spectrum’s prismatic run. At the cut of blackened melodies that sing with an Agallochified, sullen heart (“White,” “Black”) and the turn of spacey, eerie prog-Coded tails (“Pink,” “Blue”), AIiT finds many ways to show passion and reverence with a heart full of play. All too often, acts can get caught in their own lore, but as a project set out to recapture a remembered and studied sound, Spectrum swirls with its own shades in established, albeit eclectic, lines. In turn, Wiener possesses an equally shifting pipe set—never quite as goofy as early Arcturus bobblehead croons or as blood-freezing as searing Emperor cries—that remains unique enough to make the sound his own. And, with a few helping hands, cementing a more modern barked edge here and there keeps Spectrum from sounding dated in its tribute.

What continues to strike me most about Spectrum, though, is the sense of calm that persists around its extreme endeavors. Bookended by the acoustic and wistful melodies of “Yellow” and “Green,”1 AIiT manages to create a peaceful yet darting world with its jovial, marching open and lighthearted, whistling close. This sense of relaxing harmony pervades through fleeting melodies that warp into climbing yet restrained guitar leads (“White”) and heavily layered clean vocal layers that recall the buoyant nature of Lars Nedland at his cleanest (Age of Silence, White Void). Still, Wiener’s sense of stacking lines for atmosphere rather than anthemic impact allows his ventures into harsh switches to wedge a thicker slice of black metal fervor, both with guests2 and his own vicious shrieks (“Pink” and “Black” in particular).

This same floating character about the softer side of Spectrum’s compositions does cause a couple of hiccups along the way. It’s not that the ethereal nature of AIiT’s play with swelling, reverb-drenched chords (“Pink”) and shimmering patch swirls (“Black”) feel out of place in a black metal excursion of this nature—those elements stand as its highlights. With such careful focus on the expositional twinkle and conclusive prance, Spectrum can feel wanting and inhibited in explosive content. At just a touch over thirty minutes, its bursts feel like but splashes of color in the brilliance of cutting riffs and slithering screams. And with not a moment that needs removal—except for the break to silence in “Red” that bifurcates its movement a touch too long for my liking—Spectrum falls in the rare category of albums that could stand from an extra arrangement or two of AIiT’s broad, explorative palette.

Talent oozes through the meticulous web of studied, diverse black metal architecture that Am I in Trouble? possesses. And through Wiener’s variegated vision of what this style can be, Spectrum shows both its experimental roots and reverent presence. Atmosphere can be double-edged, though—both leaving me wanting more and allowing me to bend gracefully with its bows. I’m never sure whether one hit of Spectrum is enough. What I do know, though, is that I can feel the passion with which Wiener has embarked upon this journey, of one steady mind, and with help from friends, Spectrum makes me smile. I also know that with a debut of this fortitude, an installation of a grander, kaleidoscopic showing hangs in, hopefully, the not too distant future.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: PCM
Label: Self Release3
Websites: ampwall.com/a/amiintrouble4 | instagram.com/ami_in_trouble
Releases Worldwide: January 3rd, 2025

#2025 #30 #Agalloch #AgeOfSilence #AmIInTrouble_ #Arcturus #Ashenheart #BlackMetal #Code #EmberBelladonna #Emperor #IndependentRelease #Jan25 #NegativeBliss #PostBlackMetal #PostMetal #ProgressiveBlackMetal #ProgressiveMetal #SelfRelease #Spectrum #WhiteVoid

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

Crypt of Reason – Stargazer Review

By Maddog

Written by: Nameless_N00b_90

The death of a friend or loved one can spark an artist to pour their heart out. Swallow the Sun recorded the emotionally devastating When a Shadow Is Forced into the Light following the death of lead guitarist Juha Raivio’s partner, and Korn released their most mature and gut-wrenching album, The Nothing, following the death of Jonathan Davis’s wife.1 Belarussian Crypt of Reason joins this tradition with their debut album, Stargazer. Stargazer is an album 8+ years in the making, delayed by the sudden death of the band’s lead songwriter, Pavel Minutin, in 2016. Doom is a fitting genre for ruminating on death, yet Crypt of Reason doesn’t play straight-up doom. Will their blend of genres hit you in the feels?

Unlike Swallow the Sun, Crypt of Reason did not compose their album for the deceased but completed his mostly-written album using drafts and demos. Pavel’s vision was a dissodeath band in the vein of Ulcerate mixed with a healthy dose of doom. Stargazer’s first few songs mimic Ulcerate’s intensity, and vocalist Alexander Naumenko’s throaty growls are more than adequate. But Crypt of Reason is not just an Ulcerate clone. They play at the trudging tempo typical of doom but often switch it up with crunchier guitars and spunkier drums. On top of death/doom, Stargazer is shot through with a post-metal feel and hints of industrial. The guitars become whiny, and the vocals lose their edge in favor of a quiet wispy sound. These disparate genres sometimes blend within songs (“Lemma”), while other songs go completely one way or the other. “The Origin Curse,” with its soft guitar tone and minimalist sound, contains none of the trappings of a doom song, while “Argon,” with its discordant drum beats, goes full disso-doom.

The first three songs of Stargazer give the impression the album will be straight-up disso-doom, so it’s a shock when “Lemma” switches gears. Naumenko begins performing what I can only describe as a growly mumble rap. Then halfway through, he switches to his harsh vocals and the band plays some of the album’s best doom. Was the strangeness just a blip? Then “Savior” begins and it’s clear that the tone has shifted. This is no longer disso-doom, but a sort of post-nu-metal with hints of Mushroomhead.2 The drum beats become sparser and the lead guitars and synths more repetitive. Crypt of Reason even experiments with unusual sound effects, like a metronome in “The Origin Curse” and what sounds like a washboard in “Savior.” From here on, the album becomes like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. Jekyll performs his growls and heavy doom, only for Hyde to come out of hiding to terrify you with his nu-metal and mumbling.

Sadly, even the doom doesn’t pull its weight. The compositions are underwhelming, lacking the emotional heft one might expect. It’s not a problem with the musicianship. The guitars by Alex Sedin are competent, and his solos played with a delicate touch, are lovely. Vladimir Izotov handles the drums with confidence,3 seamlessly switching tempos and anchoring Crypt of Reason’s sound. The fault lies in the production and mixing. The drums often sound flat and muted.4 The guitars switch from being crunchy and intense to dull and whiny. The vocals sometimes drown out the instruments and sometimes fade into the background. Worst of all, the instruments and vocals often feel disjointed, like they aren’t playing together but atop one another. As a whole, that’s the feeling I get from this album: the pieces don’t quite fit together.

Due to its odd mix of genres and struggles with production, Stargazer might struggle to land. Fans of doom will be confounded by the elements that don’t belong on a doom album, while fans of post-metal (if you can call it that) won’t find the compositions strong enough to give their full attention. Even for fans of industrial or nü-metal, only a few songs fit that bill. Crypt of Reason would have been better served by focusing on death/doom. That said, it takes tremendous effort to put together a complete album, and to do so in the aftermath of the death of a friend is even more daunting. While I must rate the music on its own terms, my heart goes out to the band, and I hope they achieved the catharsis that they sought.

Rating: 1.5/5.0
DR: 4 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Self-Released
Websites: cryptofreason.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/CryptOfReason
Releases Worldwide: September 24th, 2024

#15 #2024 #BelarusianMetal #CryptOfReason #DoomMetal #IndependentRelease #Mushroomhead #Review #Reviews #Sep24 #Stargazer #Ulcerate #Unsigned

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

Black Sites – The Promised Land? Review

By Dolphin Whisperer

Though not a household name, Mark Sugar and his projects Trials1 and Black Sites hold a special seat at casa AMG and Dolph alike—underground gems that would not have had the same presence without the right ears and voice. Over the past seven years, Black Sites has been the main vehicle for Sugar’s vision, an amalgamation of loved sounds that maintains a niche curb appeal despite its familiar face. Whether by the maligned chug of 90s groove thrash, the 80s snap of stadium torchers, or the melodic wail of distant radio memory that you can’t quite place, Black Sites has successively reinvigorated well-traveled musical routes. Yet, Sugar would never want to tread the same path twice. And though The Promised Land? wears a cover similar to its predecessor, Untrue, its verdant aesthetic paints a world in healing rather than in dread—in evolution?

Not progressive in the virtuosic showboat sense, The Promised Land? earns its artistic merit through its curated layers which stack influences on influences to reconstruct from the past a sound all its own—Black Sites ever the difficulty to pin to one genre. Leaning on the heavy metal riffcraft of legends like early Queensrÿche and Dio, Black Sites rips into easy gallops with fiery intros and breaks (“Dread Tomorrow,” “Many Turn to None”). And when in the atmosphere of slow builds and pedal textures, Black Sites finds chorus-shimmering contrasts (“Gideon”) and melodic breakaways from soft-toned transitions (“Promised Land”) in the same way you might catch in a modern Fates Warning album. All the while, though, Sugar finds a way back to the sounds of thick, thrashy licks through a calculated, lower-tuned harmony. As much 90s Testament in weight as they are King‘s X in their open, ringing connection (“Descent,” “Chasing Eternity”)—consequently also sounding the most like Trials riffs except punctuated by anthemic choruses and Rush-y shuffles instead of snarled disgust.

Those same sing-a-long shouts and bellows pose both Black Sites’ biggest hooks and greatest challenges. Not resembling a histrionic powerhouse like Geoff Tate (Operation: Mindcrime, ex-Queensrÿche), as one might assume a vocalist would in throwback land, Sugar hovers in the realm of a tactical voice like Denis “Snake” Bélanger (Voivod) at his most melodic,2 with enough power—and layering—to find a balance between a chesty projection and nasally cut on the most aggressive tracks (“Dread Tomorrow,” “World on Fire,” “Many Turn to None”). Wielding a dramatic, but not cheesy, vibrato, Sugar can also find a gripping sense of pathos as the tempo crawls. But on the early pseudo-ballad “Gideon,” mournful and striking, he wears the role a touch too long before finding a chanting bridge to escalate the narrative. And while Sugar maintains an admirable diversity throughout the eleven-minute epic “Promised Land,” during its accelerations, his voice falls to the very limits of his clean abilities—mostly charming and effective, but also in need of a break-in period.

However, at The Promised Land’s front and center sits Sugar’s mighty strings, and new drummer Brandon White’s frenetic kitwork, elements that carry enough weight to smooth over many of the album’s bumps. Black Sites presents an experience stuffed to the brim with riffs,3 but a testament to good ol’ fashioned songwriting, each riff has a sneaky and smooth transition to follow. Finding a comfortable snare strut between shifting guitar tempos (“Descent”) and tom-pounding march about which delicate melodies dance (“Gideon,” “Promised Land”), White acts as metronomic glue for Sugar’s every while, making it hard to break away from any given moment. And likewise, well before any riff feels to have expired its play, Sugar will flurry a lead, a ringing chord, or simply a complementary progression to keep every song on a healthy stumble.

Never dull and only momentarily questionable, The Promised Land? begs repetition and gives plenty in return. Though the whole of Black Sites’ latest offering may not tickle my deepest listening fantasies—an unquestionable need for music that reaches so deftly into the past—it remains a valuable progression in the Black Sites discography for the chances it takes. Always a gifted songwriter, Sugar continues to settle into an emotional layer in this lane that’s as accessible as its musical backbone and has come a long way over Black Sites’ iterative run. And for those who already see it the Sugar way? Greatness is well within grasp.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Self-Release
Websites: blacksites.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/blacksites
Releases Worldwide: September 6th, 2024

#2024 #35 #AmericanMetal #BlackSites #Dio #FatesWarning #HeavyMetal #IndependentRelease #KingsX #ProgressiveMetal #Queensryche #Review #Reviews #Rush #SelfRelease #Sep24 #Testament #ThePromisedLand_ #Trials #Voivod

Skinwalker – Man Walks Backwards into the Ocean Review

By Dolphin Whisperer

Alaska bears the honor of being the largest landmass of freedom—larger than even Texas—and also the most sparsely populated space in the union. Separated both geographically from the country and communally within its borders, living in the frozen frontiers can create a profound sense of isolation. Hailing from Anchorage, the industrial hardcore two-man assault of Skinwalker seems to find inspiration (or rather spite) in the kind of loneliness and frustration that a great, open land can bring. Having released only nuggets of their downcast wisdom over the past couple years, Skinwalker has been fine-tuning their hissing, howling, and malformed tunes for maximum impact, ready to enter the realm of full-length fury.

Paranoia surrounds both the sounds of Skinwalker and the folklore from which their namesake originates. As a manifested character of evil and witchcraft, the skinwalker, in American Indigenous traditions, represents a pure and real phenomenon of negative, chaotic intent. And reflecting that, Man Walks Backwards into the Ocean through shattered industrial pulse and scream-walled breakdown forces its way through fifteen tracks of disconnected vignettes of disaster and dissociation. As with much industrial music, a heavy layer of cringe-inducing narrative plows unsubtly over its crackling beats, with tracks like “Witch”1 and “Under the Veil” letting loose dead-eyed spoken word lamentations in a manner that fits with the late-night doom-scrolling aesthetic that Skinwalker chases.

One hand holding Godflesh-toned, brutalist rhythms and the other releasing Racetraitor-lit metalcore lashings, Skinwalker wears a robust shroud of intensity. And with most tracks throughout hanging around the two-and-a-half-minute mark, it’s rare that any individual moment overstays its door-kicking welcome. Blowout intro “Finding Solitude in Suffering” drops mutilated chords against an urgent percussive build that falls face-down into a mangled throat tirade. Early burner “Eighty Six Thirty One” melts break-inspired cyber-kicks against riffs made by a guitar that shouldn’t have survived its output. Late album pick-me-up “A Deconstruction of Tragedy” sees Skinwalker launching a Nails-spikedsprint into an unholy breakdown that should lead any lover of flipping tables down a path of relentless stank. Distortion, of course, is the key to Skinwalker’s success, and with noise as a backbone to their hardcore spirit, not a moment exists without frying or collapsing its electronic nature.

Ambitious in output, Man Walks doesn’t always land as well as this act’s talent would suggest. Skinwalker does lean into many higher frequency squeaks, blips, and other electronic squeals that break of the mire of broken amp tones and full volume drum blasts that smear a static black about this debut, but not often in a way that breaks up the landscape. More often, the kinds of flippant and flittering noise signals that sear and tickle the canals like a pleasurable irritant find position to fizzle and fade away with conclusions—exclamation marks to statements that lack differentiation prior (“An Avocation for Pain,” “Bastard Son of God,” “Under the Veil”). It’s frustrating because when these kinds of scurries find a place in breakdown or bridge (“Below,” “What We Do Is Not Art,” “To Detest a Nameless Grave”), they find a welcome home and amplify the already ceiling pushing sounds that Skinwalker has built up to that point. But as it is, Man Walks lands in a sound design that feels hollow in its crushed layering that do no benefits to longer and shorter numbers alike—especially plaguing the instrumental break “The Five and a Half Minute Hallway.”

Yet in a rare feat, Skinwalker has managed to arrive at an industrial, metalcore, and noise-fused sound via the path of electronics first, which doesn’t often feel to be the case for acts who might appear as sound cousins. Occasionally, a throbbing wall of distortion or fret-rattling plonk will resemble something that you could believe rendered from a traditional guitar or bass. And, though abusive toward a standard throat’s life, the vocals decayed through carefully chosen methods of capture render as human—tortured, pleading, confused, but human all the same. Man Walks Backwards into the Ocean, as a first foot forward for Skinwalker, has a certain polish, a certain earnestness that leads me to believe that this sound will develop and grow and explode—tricky rhythmic exercises like “Dancing on the End of a Pen” and “Eighty Six Thirty One” come naturally to their brand of anger. But as it stands, Skinwalker shows only glimmers of what their true power holds.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: PCM2
Label: Self Release
Websites: skinwalkernoise.com | skinwalkernoise.bandcamp.com
Releases Worldwide: August 16th, 2024

#25 #2024 #AmericanMetal #Aug24 #Godflesh #Hardcore #IndependentRelease #Industrial #IndustrialMetal #ManWalksBackwardsIntoTheOcean #Metalcore #Nails #Noise #PowerElectronics #Racetraitor #Review #Reviews #SelfRelease #Skinwalker

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

Werewolves – Die For Us Review

By Saunders

Barring a short sample, one of numerous scattered across the album, “Get fucked” is the first lyric spewed forth on fifth LP Die For Us from Australian extreme metal anarchists, Werewolves. It’s a fitting introduction to the vitriolic assault on the senses the Australian trio unleash on their latest opus of controlled chaos and destruction. Comprising a trio of accomplished underground musicians, sporting a combined resume that includes time spent in The Antichrist Imperium, The Amenta, Psycroptic, Ruins, King and Faustian among other recognizable names, Werewolves have carved a prolifically entertaining body of work since their formation a mere five years ago. The seasoned line-up and band chemistry bleeds from the ugly, hate-filled heart at the album’s blackened core. Prolific work rate aside, can Werewolves maintain their rage and bring the songwriting substance to back their vice-tight instrumental chops and unhinged brutality?

Listeners yet to catch hold of the band’s frenetic flurries of blast beats, riffs, rabid vocals, riffs and more riffs, will be greeted by a tightly coiled avalanche of modern death metal, generously spiced with a grindy edge and blackened afterburn. Speed reigns supreme, propelled by the outstanding percussion of legendary Psycroptic skinsman Dave Haley. The dizzying riffs and frantic fretwork keep pace with the album’s speedy core, as clever rhythmic twists and knuckle-dragging grooves lend the album welcome variety amidst the speed-driven assault. Snippets of the members’ various other acts occasionally seep into the pool of influences, and in terms of the grindy, punky crunch and sheer intensity of the material, common musical traits are shared with the likes of Anaal Nathrakh, Lock Up, and cult Aussie grinders The Kill.

Like previous albums, Die For Us deftly balances grindcore-like speed and white-knuckled intensity with dark humor and a vaguely accessible, fun edge. Werewolves specialize in tough-as-nails extreme metal party anthems, suitable for punching brews and lifting weights. “Die For Us” and “Beaten Back to Life” bring the speed, thunder, riffs and fuck society attitude in spades, creating an effectively sharp and rugged one-two punch to launch the album into action. “Spittle-Flecked Rant” is an especially enraged, thrash-laden deathgrind beast that would do Misery Index proud. Elsewhere, the doomy pacing and blackened moods of “Under the Urinal Moon” showcases a measured, sinister side of the band, with cool results. Overall, the material is all good, if not entirely essential, but it hits the spot and forms a well-executed beatdown. “My Hate Is Strong” delivers on its title, unleashing a dark, impressively intense experience, featuring a rapid-fire percussive assault and gnarly grooves. “We All Deserve to be Slaves” detonates whiplash speed, punk-thrash attitude, and techy flourishes to strong effect.

At a concise 35 minutes, time races by. Despite the relentless pedal-to-the-floor tempos, the charismatic vocals of Sam Bean, and deceptively dynamic writing, mostly staves off monotony and overkill. Song-to-song character lends the album a catchy edge, meanwhile the lyrical angle is crude, angry and a wee bit juvenile, a little clunky on occasion, but often wildly entertaining (especially as a resident Aussie). A minor frustrating point is for all its easily likable qualities, Die For Us still hovers around the good to very good songwriting range. Nothing misses the mark, but several songs are a bit by-the-numbers, while the sleek, punchy production is held back by a crushed mastering job. Concerns linger for the album’s longer-term staying power, however, in the moment this shit hits hard and is appealing on a base level.

Die For Us follows consistent trends from previous Werewolves albums; it’s a fun, raging slab of extreme metal goodness that pulls no punches and chews up and spits out silver bullets in all its feral, teeth-gnashing glory. It also signals the halfway point in the band’s ambitious plan to pump out ten albums in ten years. This also smacks of a great opportunity for us AMG staffers to mix up review duties in sync with the decade-long mission. The concern is with their steadfast formula and prolific turnover rate, do Werewolves have it in them to release a truly show-stopping album? Five albums deep, I’m not so sure. However, at the very least Werewolves remain an entertaining, consistently solid force to be reckoned with. Die For Us may not blow minds, but it will crack skulls and increase heart rates, so they are certainly doing something right.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Independent Release
Websites: werewolvesdeathmetal.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/werewolvesinhell
Releases Worldwide: July 12th, 2024

#2024 #30 #AnaalNathrakh #AustralianMetal #DeathMetal #Deathgrind #DieForUs #Faustian #IndependentRelease #King #LockUp #Psycroptic #Review #Reviews #Ruins #TheAmenta #TheAntichristImperium #TheKill #Werewolves

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

Eigenstate Zero – The Malthusian Review

By Maddog

After a six-month hiatus from writing (and most everything else), I couldn’t resist reviewing an artist with eigen- in their name. My excitement for linear algebra drew me to Eigenstate Zero’s third record, despite my inkling that “eigenstate zero” was a nonsense phrase.1 Unsurprisingly, Eigenstate Zero is a solo prog project, and The Malthusian offers 78 indulgent minutes of off-kilter death metal from Sweden’s Christian Ludvigsson. The album is full of surface-level variety, mixing riffy goodness with keyboard melodies and copious genre experimentation. And yet, its strengths and weaknesses are exactly what you’d expect, for a 78-minute prog-death album with a sci-fi name.

The Malthusian combines hit-or-miss death metal with hit-or-miss prog tropes. The death metal foundation of Eigenstate Zero’s sound is executed with mixed success. Even The Malthusian’s shorter straightforward tracks sometimes misfire with by-the-books riffs that lack the genre’s power (“Serfs & Zealots,” “Reset”). Conversely, The Malthusian slays when it remains laser-focused on engaging its listeners. The title track’s hefty riffs could hold their own against death metal’s best, while its creative rhythms and keys lean deftly into Eigenstate Zero’s prog sensibilities. Meanwhile, groovy bass lines (“Telomeres”) and thoughtfully ballistic drums (“Mindcrime”) make the rhythm section a highlight throughout. Despite those successes, The Malthusian struggles with prog idioms. Digressions like the waltz of “Spiritdebris,” the theatrical clean vocals of “Thingfish Diaries,” and the gratuitous wind sections of “Holomind” feel like weirdness for weirdness’ sake. Echoing Serdce’s craziness without Serdce’s writing prowess, The Malthusian’s proggy bits often lose my interest.

The Malthusian’s frequent lack of cohesion makes it a jumbled listen. The album’s ambition is admirable, but it tends to long jump between disparate styles without the requisite effort to glue them together. The Malthusian’s proggy shenanigans often feel jammed between unrelated neighbors, like the cabaret melodies and keyboard detours of “Black Pages.” At their worst, these aren’t just isolated missteps; rather, tracks like “Orch Or” fall flat by cobbling together jigsaw pieces from different puzzles for their entire runtime. Still, The Malthusian’s choice cuts demonstrate songwriting excellence. Album highlight “Mindcrime” channels Alustrium with caveman riffs, proggy rhythms, an acoustic break, and soaring solos, blended together perfectly and tied up with a thoughtful bow. I wish the rest of the record had followed suit.

Now for the elephant in the room: The Malthusian is elephantine. Even the better songs could use a trim, like the fluid but beefy ten-minute title track. The back half of the record is particularly bloated, housing all but one of the album’s chunkiest pieces. As a result, The Malthusian is a tiresome listen, extending for nearly eighty minutes with only enough compelling material for half of that. Adding to the excess, the album’s crushed production makes it difficult to identify interesting melodies above the din. Exhausted by both sonic clutter and a glut of content, I struggle to distinguish or recall much of The Malthusian. Indeed, it took me multiple spins to realize that the promo materials included an extra copy of “Telomeres” in place of “Reset.” Some more restraint would go a long way for Eigenstate Zero.

While The Malthusian doesn’t have any single fatal flaw, its missteps hold it back. The album’s riffs and melodies suffer from inconsistency, especially when they veer into prog exhibitionism. On a macroscopic level, the lack of restraint in The Malthusian’s composition and production hampers the final product. The record’s apexes display a talent for melody and composition that’ll keep me hopeful for Eigenstate Zero’s next release. But despite its ambition, The Malthusian hasn’t left much impression on me. In the linear transformation of my ears, Eigenstate Zero’s newest release has eigenvalue zero.2

Rating: ​2.0/5.0
DR:​ 7 | ​Format Reviewed:​ 320 kbps mp3
Label: ​Self-Released
Websites: ​eigenstatezero.bandcamp.com
Releases Worldwide​: May 17th, 2024

#20 #2024 #Alustrium #DeathMetal #EigenstateZero #Independent #IndependentRelease #IndependentUnsigned #May24 #ProgressiveDeath #ProgressiveDeathMetal #ProgressiveMetal #Review #Reviews #Serdce #SwedishMetal #TheMalthusian