Untrue does not feature drastic changes or retooling of a sound they continue to refine, increasing the complexities and prog influence to shape accomplished songs, high on memorability. Black Sites bolster their attitude-fueled old school metal anthems with progressive smarts, outstanding musicianship, and rousing hooks, encased within clever song arrangements. Belting choruses are a sure thing, but never for cheap thrills to mask weak writing. Musically Untrue is the band’s most accomplished album yet. Mark Sugar (ex-Trials, Bear Mace) and Ryan Bruchert (ex-Trials) up their game throughout an album heavy on killer riffs, dueling harmonies, and inventive solos. The duo is a formidable combination, serving up a smorgasbord of intricate, livewire fretwork, while dispensing ample loads of chunkier riffage. Drummer Garry Naples (Wolvhammer) compliments the excellent axework with an energetic, nuanced, and grooving performance. Quality musicianship and intricate layers aside, Unreal’s greatest strength is the sheer potency and craftmanship of the songs themselves.

Opener “Sword of Orion” storms the gates with an ominous introduction, featuring hypnotic percussive patterns, before unloading with a hooky, galloping anthem to set the album into motion. From here onwards Black Sites power through a slick set of tunes, at once proggy, melodic, intricate, and jacked with enough steely punch to match the intelligent craftsmanship. “Lost Tribes” fits the role perfectly as the lead-off single, encapsulating the Black Sites sound superbly, featuring instantly headbangable grooves, burly riffs, and scorching lead work, topped with earworm vocal hooks. It is more straightforward compared to its counterparts but is an insanely addictive ride.

There are no obvious weak links, though Untrue’s mid-section is especially potent. “Echo of a Lie” has a slightly off-tilt progressive swagger. The opening salvo, revisited during the song, reminds me of Deliverance-era Opeth. It is a cracking tune, with the beguiling, more exploratory instrumental sections contrasting well against the song’s punchier elements and harder edges. Razor sharp riffs, soaring hooks, and Voivod-isms emblazon the driving “The Worst of Us,” while slow-burning doomy closer ”White Ashes,” ends the album on a powerfully somber note.

Perhaps a sign of turbulent times, Sugar’s lyrics, and overall tone of the album, is noticeably darker, lending Unreal a strong emotional pull, contrasting against songs that overcome the melancholic underbelly to reveal infectious, almost uplifting anthems that worm their way into your brain. Sugar’s vocals become more assured and refined with each release and his performance throughout Untrue is no exception. It would be cool to hear the odd harsher vocal, but his performance is impressive.

Black Sites leave the fat and gristle on the cutting room floor, ensuring a focused listen, minus unnecessary filler or wanky self-indulgence. The eight songs feature their own identifiable traits and distinctive hooks, marking the most infectious, complex, and consistent batch of tunes Black Sites are yet to craft.

Musically, Son of Sam is a slightly odd duck. Strong elements of traditional heavy metal and thrashy melodic death consolidate a formidable foundation, with flashes of black, Viking, power, and symphonic metal steel rounding out a surprisingly cohesive package, transcending familiar elements with slick writing and a sweet mix of triumphant melodies, beefy riffs, tasteful keyboard adornments, and vibrant, aggressive urgency that bubbles over and really makes the well-crafted songs cook. Son of Sam do not skimp on the speed, aggression, and heft, but it is the sense of fun and adventure, combined with sheer catchiness of the material that elevates the album to a higher plane. The diverse compositions are bursting with life, excellent musicianship, and smart dynamics, boosted by some of 2021’s most addictive, earworm choruses.

The talents of the duo are impressive, reinforced by a bunch of guest vocalists contributing to the powerhouse vocal arsenal. Considering he usually plies his trade hitting the skins with Rimfrost, Throllv’s multifaceted performance is hugely impressive. Vocally, the dude displays an instantly likable style, utilizing a rough hewn cleaner vocal style that fits the tone of the album perfectly, loaded with character and a bevy of noteworthy hooks, while retaining a tougher, gritty edge and aggressive backbone. Following the scene setting opening title track, “I Am” well and truly kicks the album into high gear, marking numerous highlights peppering an album high on memorability, diversity, and short of disposable material. The thrashy melodeath throes, pulse quickening riffage and booming hooks are instantly gratifying, with the central hooks digging in deep and maintaining the rage across multiple listens.

The good times keep rolling throughout a consistent and remarkably diverse offering. Riff heavy thrashers, like the aforementioned “I Am” and scorching, old school Gothenburg vibe of “In Darkness and Dismay,” combine thundering rhythms, aggressive riffs, and more show stealing vocal hooks into the fray. They sit comfortably alongside boisterous, high octane heavy metal tunes like “Mr Sinister – Evil Minister,” the stunning “My Nuclear Desire,“ and epic, fist pumping symphonic glory of “Gods in the North.” This trio of songs highlight Son of Sam’s multifaceted songwriting skills, effortlessly blending styles, such as power, symphonic, thrash and Viking into their melodeath/heavy metal hybrid, forming triumphant, stylish epics, combining the myriad of components into colorful, infectious, and ridiculously fun and energetic tunes.

Only the short disposable interlude “Hypersleep,” and slightly out of place “Depravity” do not quite live up to the album’s lofty standards. Apparently, the latter is an expression of extreme rage, decorated with profanity and chugging riffs. It is a little low brow and less gripping, saved by enough redeeming elements, solid riffs, and feisty aggression to stay afloat. They may boast talented stocks from the respected Rimfrost pool of talent, but Son of Sam reveals an intriguing offshoot of battle-hardened heavy metal/melodeath not to be missed. I can imagine And the Monster Awoke being one of the sleeper gems of a solid 2021 campaign for heavy music enthusiasts.

To Where the Light Retreats is as tight and technical as one should expect, loaded with groove, an abundance of noteworthy riffs, and a genuine sense of fun that is not often present in the world of technical death metal. Aided by the familiar supporting hands of guitarist Danny Tunker (Alkaloid), bassist Linus Klausenitzer (ex-Obscura, Alkaloid) and vocalist V. Santura (Dark Fortress, Triptykon) Grossman crafts nimble, technically acrobatic tunes that are punchy, twisty, yet pleasingly coherent and laser like in focus. There is a looser, more playful feel to the material that ramps up the fun factor and the hooks penetrate deeper.

There are nods to previous solo efforts and Grossman’s higher profile projects, Obscura and Alkaloid, while sounding fresh and retaining its own edge and character. Opener “The Great Designer” grips throughout its eight-minute duration. The song’s gentle, atmospheric intro gradually morphs into a song with formidable muscle behind the notable finesse and melodic tendrils peeking through the knotty framework. Thrashy bursts of speed and blasting aggression balance out the twisty, melodic nature of the arrangement, anchored by an anthemic central hook and typically creative drumming performance. Later album cut, “The Fountain” leans into Grossman’s more adventurous and progressive writing style, tapping into Alkaloid territory with its slow building swell, sparkling melodies, and shifting dynamics.

Explosively colourful and acrobatic instrumentation demands the spotlight, but Grossman has crafted an album stacked with genuinely infectious tunes and diverse compositions, expertly balancing heft, melody, complexity, and hooky writing. Take the irresistible “The Sun Eaters” for example, boasting a lively, layered arrangement, boundless percussive energy, and a stellar chorus that lodges in the brain. Whether pumping out shorter, more concise nuggets, or longer form epics, the writing is never dull. Featuring a ridiculously catchy leading riff and tons of groove and killer double bass work, “In the Glacier’s Eye” has a hardened exterior and forceful intensity, replete with frantic bursts of blast beat ridden fury. Elsewhere, longer form behemoth “Death and the Vast Nothing” cohesively welds weighty riffs, doomy death dirges, scorching solos, and progressive, experimental flair into a groove-heavy assault to be reckoned with. Although some songs hit harder than others, there are no notable weak points. Perhaps some tactful editing here and there may have tightened the package, but otherwise quality remains high throughout, with the album’s longer term replay value to be determined in coming months, but signs are promising.

The excellent guitar work is a constant source of engagement, blending progressive playfulness, technical wizardry, and plenty of genuinely heavy, blood pumping riffs ripped out. Strong writing and top-notch individual performances are complimented by a crisp, punchy production, solid mix, and dynamic master. Whether it is the various bands he represents through his phenomenal drumming skills, or the confident solo projects he spearheads with greater creative control, Grossman’s name is reliably attached to quality. His progression as a solo artist continues to intrigue and impress. To Where the Light Retreats is perhaps Grossman’s finest solo effort, an engaging blend of creativity, technical proficiency, catchy songwriting, and an adventurous spirit that does not dilute the album’s punchy focus, heavy edge, and fluid cohesion. The end result marks one of 2021’s most impressive tech death albums.

Opening in style, combining slick, cutthroat execution, impressive musical chops, and hooky goodness, “Critical Mass” explodes out the blocks with attitude and finesse. For the uninitiated, it marks a stellar beginning to the album and strong taste of what is in store throughout the weighty 54 minutes of material Paranorm cooked up. This is far from a straightforward thrash release, a point that may be conflicting for some genre fans. Although structurally the progressive elements are certainly embedded in the eight weighty tunes, they do not overshadow the band’s more explosive thrash impulses, nor does it sacrifice overall cohesion and fluency. Speedy tempos, dynamic shifts, clever pacing, and a truckload of killer riffs and sharp hooks are the norm throughout a uniformly tight offering. Longer songs, including multi-faceted epic “Edge of the Horizon,” impressive title track, and hard-hitting urgency and invigorating twists of closer “Desolate Worlds (Distant Dimensions),” featuring mellow acoustic mid-section and scorched, blackened propulsions, highlights the band’s excellent craftmanship and flair for progression and aggression. Paranorm are equally adept at jam packing ridiculous amounts of energy, memorable hooks and clever ideas into more compact jams, like riffy beasts, “Cannibal” and “Lost Cause.” Meanwhile, early highlight “The Immortal Generation” dazzles with memorable, livewire riffs and fretboard wizardry, without skimping on the speed and aggression.

Influences, ranging from later Death, Heartwork-era Carcass, Kreator, and modern thrash heavyweights Vektor, frame but never overshadow or dilute Paranorm’s strong identity and character. Performances are hugely impressive across the board. The guitar work is particularly noteworthy and fucking fantastic throughout. Markus Hiltunen (also on vocals) and Fredrik Kjellgren seemingly possess an endless supply of quality, intricate riffs, punctuated by emotive, gripping leads and shredtastic soloing, putting a fat exclamation point on already well executed songs, while elevating the material to an elite level. The solos are extravagant, complex, melodic and truly gripping, despite their over-the-top nature, they work sublimely within the context of the album and individual songs. Hiltunen’s raspy, decipherable growl does the job nicely, while the rhythm section supplies a powerful backbone of groove, ever shifting tempos, and supportive creativity to compliment the outstanding axework.

Impeccably produced, featuring warm, punchy tones, balanced mix, and refreshingly dynamic master, Paranorm tick all the boxes. Empyrean is a stunning album and extravagant showcase of Paranorm’s exceptional talents as both musicians and songwriters. While the shredding guitar work and technicality impresses, it would count for little without effective songwriting chops to piece it all together. Thankfully, Paranorm are equally adept at crafting interesting, twisting and memorable tunes, resulting in an exhilarating album to be seriously reckoned with. Some thrash traditionalists may not appreciate the more indulgent shredding tendencies or progressive elements, but there are no glaring weaknesses or debilitating faults to identify.

Paranorm have been quietly going about their business over the years, before finally unleashing this formidable beast of a debut album. Empyrean may just go down as one of the finest thrash albums since Vektor’s Terminal Redux. Only time will tell, but with a scintillating mix of technical, high octane thrash workouts, eloquent shreddage, and progressive smarts, Paranorm captured lightning in a bottle on this compelling slab of thrash excellence.

While relentlessly raw and brutal in its execution and bloodied assault, Death Posture is an irresistibly catchy ride that demands repeat listens. The riffs, courtesy of duo Max Bowman and Chase Slaker, are spewed out vigorously, in all their tar black, murderous fury, the pace relentless but pleasingly interspersed with sludgy, groove-laden slower parts, exemplified on the double pronged attack of such savage cuts as “Visions of Torture” and “Ritual Trappings.” The songs regularly flip from all out chaos and unhinged intensity, to riff-addled d-beat violence, and headbanging groove sections (check out the monstrous first half of “Acid Attack” for evidence). Caustic Wound navigate the careful tightrope balancing act between extremity and genuinely infectious writing to excel throughout Death Posture.

On the surface the formula may sound familiar, this is certainly not unchartered territory Caustic Wound are exploring, but it takes skilled hands to bring a freshness and vitality to their old school deathgrind assault. The merging of death and grind influences is flawless, with genuinely heavy, guttural death combining with old school grind, the grind elements occasionally recalling classic Terrorizer and early Lock-Up. While musically it is not the most technical material, these gents are each well versed on their respective instrument, resulting in a tightly performed, insanely fast, speedball of putrid deathgrind, featuring oodles of band chemistry. Casey Moore (drums) and Tony Wolfe (bass) lay down a mighty foundation, built on cracking speed and sludgy, sewage coated grooves. Meanwhile, Clyde Lindstrom’s cavernous, indecipherable growls, and subtle pitch variations, lend the album a fittingly brutal edge to match the grinding onslaught.

At a lean and mean 26 minutes, Death Posture is near the perfect length for this kind of relentless barrage. However, it is also testament to Caustic Wound’s songwriting skills, that the material avoids dissolving into a monotonous mess of rancid blasting and indistinguishable songs. The production eschews any semblance of modern glossiness in favour of a suitably gritty, rough around the edges sonic profile. Individual instrument tones are sharp, organic, and beefy, slotting into a well balanced mix, caked in layers of muddy distortion to compliment the feral nature of the music. And while the sound is old school and underground, it features enough definition, and a dynamic master, to easily make sense of it all.

Say what you will about 2020, in what has been a wretched year for many, heavy music has shone and delivered across the board. This rings especially true for death metal, with a staggering bounty of quality releases dropping throughout the year. Not to be overlooked, listeners keen on old school deathgrind, loaded with filthy riffs and butchering hooks, are well advised to check out the seedy charms and riff-stacked mayhem of Caustic Wound.

Australian power trio Faceless Burial offer a bludgeoning antidote to the woes of the current global climate on sophomore platter Speciation. Musical evolution can be a truly wondrous thing when said evolution goes in a direction the listener is pleased with. It proves a winning scenario for Faceless Burial, morphing from their rugged old school death roots and more straightforward bludgeon, into a fully developed and advanced entity of destruction.

Speciation is a bulldozing album and impressive leap forward for the band, their eloquent butchery angling down increasingly complex and progressive corridors. Influences ranging from the mighty Suffocation, to mid-era Death, and early Gorguts, inform but never dilute a sound grounded in the turf of classic old school death. Faceless Burial’s obvious appreciation of old school death is updated for modern times, executed with oodles of style, finesse, and character. A variety of components combine in perfect harmony, as mutating progressive and technical turns collide with barbaric aggression, searing blasts, and wrecking ball grooves. However, the technical smarts and intricate arrangements do not come at the cost of other key components, such as brutality, catchy riffs, and memorable writing. Each song features numerous noteworthy musical elements, syncing intelligent, progressive diversions with classic old school death, complete with in-your-face blasts, guttural vocals, thick pummelling tones, and addictive riffs.

Right off the bat, Faceless Burial get down and dirty with the dense and dynamically structured opener “Worship.” The song is a powerful, riffy beast chock full of complex rhythms, choppy, intricate, yet coherent guitar work, swift tempo shifts, and early album examples of the band’s excellent riffcraft. From here on the good times keep rolling. While only six songs feature, there is a weightiness to Speciation, in both depth and content. The lengthy songs are so well composed and developed that interest never waivers. Even the shortest, most concise track, the awesomely titled “Irreparably Corpsed,” packs tons of energy, aggression, and labyrinthine twists into an action packed assault, which is frenetic and off-kilter in the best kind of way. Momentum is never lost as the album hurtles towards its climax. For example, compelling later album highlight “Spurning Catarrhal Gruel” is a knotty juggernaut which bends, writhes, and mutates in exciting and unexpected ways, built on cornerstones of complexity, groove, and hammering riffs.

When death metal bands venture down progressive pathways, sometimes the risk of diluting aggression and brutality hovers. Thankfully, this never becomes an issue, with Faceless Burial ensuring both elements are key cogs. Even amidst the supreme technical proficiency on display, the unrelenting barrage is always in forward motion, as eloquent leads and solos are skilfully threaded into the fray (check stunning closer “Ravished to the Unknown”), adding shreds of melody. Finding any major issues with Speciation is fruitless, such is the quality and consistency of the album. On one hand, while Faceless Burial put a fresh perspective on a classic death formula, I guess there is nothing particularly original on offer. Meanwhile, the beefy, indecipherable growls of bassist/vocalist Alex Macfarlane are a little one-dimensional and lacking in variation. However, these are relatively picky and minor gripes that do not significantly detract from an otherwise exceptional album.

Faceless Burial took me by surprise with this advanced platter of barnstorming, progressively aligned, but bludgeoning death, rearranging familiar influences from the past into their own intelligent modern platter of top shelf death. Terrific production and killer artwork tie together the whole package, resulting in one of the stronger death metal albums of the year.

Raging opener “Redneck Vikings From Hell” kicks off the album with glorious bombast and righteous hooks, as the band lean into the humour and irony of Southern American lads playing a very European style of folky melodic death. Yet much like its predecessor’s rollicking ‘King of Cups” it is hard not to be swept up into the fun and excellent musicianship and swinging hooks. From this point on, Æther Realm take the listener on a weird and wild journey, generally compacting their more intricate writing and arrangements from the past into punchy, hook laden bursts of energy and ambition. Yes, for all the album’s flaws, it is a highly adventurous progression towards shedding some of their influences and sculpting a more unique identity. Unfortunately, some growing pains are evident in the writing department.

However, my initial disappointment has gradually dissipated with numerous repeat listens, where even songs I originally disliked have earwormed their way into my brain. Case in point, the somewhat questionable melodeath meets ‘80s pop cheese of “Goodbye,” featuring a parasitic hook that has proven increasingly difficult to resist. Amidst the choppy experimentation and stylistic twists, “Lean on the Wind” and “She’s Back” are tightly wound and aggressive melodeath rippers, adding welcome balance and fire to the album’s construction. Elsewhere, the depth and compelling leads of “Tmhc,” and the heart-wrenching “Cycle,” find Æther Realm in top form, the latter packing a particularly impactful emotional punch.

There is plenty of good stuff to absorb, though several songs do not quite come together as completely as I would like. For instance, “Slave to the Riff” features some questionable vocal choices and spoken word, while ”One Hollow World” is packed with energy but feels too reliant on its epic chorus. Meanwhile, the emotion charged ballad “Guardian” drips with cheese and melodrama, preventing my wholehearted enjoyment, amid the divisive experimentation in Æther Realm’s writing repertoire. Going out with an ambitious bang, 10-minute closer “Craft and the Creator” is a slightly bloated but mostly engaging instrumental piece, showcasing Æther Realm’s excellent instrumental chops. Performances are exceptional across the board, even if the well of great riffs and stellar leads do not run as deeply this time around.

Redneck Vikings From Hell turned out to be a much better album than I gave it credit for. I admire the band’s willingness to take risks and push boundaries artistically. Yet, it remains a frustratingly uneven, but oddly addicting listen. Tarot hit much harder on all levels, with more interesting arrangements, better riffs, and powerhouse emotional resonance. Through it all, Redneck Vikings manages to shine and cements Æther Realm’s status as a rising force in the melodic death scene.

Whereas previous album The Empire dabbled in more dynamic arrangements, Solitude in Madness goes straight for the throat, doubling down on the pure speed for a righteously energetic affair. With this, dynamic and more adventurous arrangements are cast aside, but it is nice to hear the band sounding so enraged, embracing their thrashier impulses. Short, sharp, punchy tunes create concentrated bursts of concise fury, exemplified on strong opening cut, “Shock and Awe.” The riff-centric “Emptiness” features some of the album’s most memorable riffs and chunky grooves, while the slick arrangement and blasting intensity really pops on “And Satan Wept.” “Incineration of the Gods” is another prime slab of barn burning fury. Propelled by a frantic drumming performance from the excellent James Stewart, later album cut “Dancing in the Slaughterhouse” is a tremendously unhinged affair, featuring robust grooves and ripping solos amidst the song’s frantic pacing. Such quality cuts highlight Vader’s endearing strength and presence.

Unfortunately, less engaging writing hampers parts of the album. Solitude in Madness features no genuine duds, only less engaging or remarkable contributions, hinting at slight wear in Vader’s seemingly indestructible armoury. Yet Piotr Wiwczarek remains an ageless marvel and his immediately identifiable accented growls and guitar work sounds reliably potent and fiery throughout Solitude in Madness. The guitar work of Wiwczarek and partner in crime Marek “Spider” Pajak is vice tight as expected. However, overall there is a weaker supply of memorable riffs in comparison to more recent Vader platters. However, numerous top-notch leads and solos, lend Solitude in Madness extra melodic flair and eloquence to balance out the savagery inherent in the execution.

Solitude in Madness is littered with punchy songs, cool riffs, and killer moments, yet the writing does not quite lodge in the memory bank as deeply as I would like. With Vader embracing their thrash roots in full force, the more adventurous dynamics and symphonic musings from their modern repertoire are eschewed, resulting in a less exciting, one-dimensional collection. Despite these gripes, there is plenty of fun to be had. Solitude in Madness runs on high energy fuel and the relentlessly speedy barrage and brevity work advantageously to the album’s compact construction, especially considering the deficiencies in compositional variety.

When all is said and done, Solitude in Madness is another solid entry into the vast Vader canon, despite falling short of the band’s essential modern material, like 2011 classic, Welcome to the Morbid Reich. Some songs tend to blur together and the writing struggles to consistently engage on a deeper level, yet the album’s compact duration, handful of particularly strong tunes, and youthful exuberance keep the flames burning.

Perhaps it’s the injection of new blood, including an actual drummer, but The Weakest Among Us sounds like a more fluid, organic effort full of confidence and swagger. Perihelion‘s Anshuman Goswami fills the void left by past vocal terrorists Duncan Bentley (Vulvodynia) and Calum Forrest (Pancrectomy) admirably, providing a suitably brutal array of vocal excretions. Otherwise it’s largely business as usual for the band, once again demonstrating their supreme technical chops across the board. Sanjay and Sanil Kumar channel past legends of technical and brutal death while firmly creating their own firm impression. The duo unleashes warp speed riffing, dazzling technicality, controlled discordance, ripping solos, and filthy slam grooves, amid shimmering melodic embellishments, keeping things sharp and memorable in the process. Bassist Alex Weber deserves special mention, beefing up the overall sound and constantly demanding attention with the strong melodic counterpoint his playing provides.

The title track kicks the album off with solid momentum; a blasty, technical mix of dissonant melodies, killer bass, and meaty grooves. Across the album there are no glaring weak links, however, a couple of tracks don’t resonate as powerfully as the stronger cuts. “rA9_myth” chugs along, delivering brutal uppercuts and mid-paced pummel, but lacks dynamics and genuinely memorable riffs. Similarly, the ludicrously titled, “Wave Quake Generator Plasma Artillery Cannon,” though not without its strengths, including a bedazzling solo, fails to grip as tightly as the bulk of its counterparts. Neither song is bad by any means, but they fall short of the standard set by the likes of the twisting and propulsive “The Gas System” and frantic, sleek futuristic vibes and excellent merging of tech and slam components on “Quad MB.” The album comes to a gripping, sick slamming climax on the diverse and exploratory “Ingswarm.”

If I have a knock against The Weakest Among Us, the song-writing is not being quite as distinctive or memorable as the material from Genesis. However, it’s also a densely layered beast with so many intriguing twists and turns within a complicated framework, that I can imagine picking up subtleties and elusive hooks for months to come. In this regard, the album seems to be a grower, with potential for its true impact to be felt in the months to come. Although, the complex, brutal battery threatens to overwhelm, the album remains grounded and is a surprisingly palatable listen. Clocking-in at just under the half hour mark, Wormhole wisely don’t overstay their welcome. Production is solid if a little too compressed, while the mix has a few quirks that may be off-putting for some listeners but is by no means a deal breaker.

January is often lagging in notable releases, but Wormhole and a handful of others are bucking the trend, building towards what shapes as another bumper year of heavy music across the extreme spectrum. The Weakest Among Us finds Wormhole honing and refining their established sound, thus avoiding the sophomore slump with a tight, bruising and adventurous platter of brutal death, carving out a strong marriage between guttural slammy power plays and sophisticated tech embellishments.

Firebride thrives in its rather straightforward and simplistic song-writing approach. Make no mistake, these are well crafted and tightly executed tunes, but Black Royal keep things uncomplicated, building each song upon massively heft and insanely infectious riffs and oodles of headbang-friendly grooves. There’s a lively death n’ roll feel to some of the songs and despite the eyebrow raising that tag may induce, here it’s a positive thing for listeners that are craving stomping, addictive metal without the need for flashy embellishments, technical overkill, or endless blasting. After all, there’s ample death metal out there catering for these attributes. It’s the rather simple, destructive and focused delivery that sings to me throughout Firebride.

Firebride opens with one of the stronger bursts I’ve heard in some time, setting the album in pummelling motion. Opening with delicate strings and calming melodies, “Coven” quickly unfurls in all its addictive, riff-driven glory, unveiling the clever and dramatic orchestral elements and Satanic themes prevalent throughout the album. Equally impactful duo of follow-up tunes, “Hail Yourself” and Pagan Saviour,” bring imposing heft and earworm hooks aplenty, forged with ironclad riffage, hoarse growls and rumbling grooves. At a compact 38 minutes, there’s little time wasted. Only short instrumental “313” could be considered filler, though it’s a decent acoustic breather which doesn’t overstay its welcome.

Performances are solid and inspired across the board. The urgent, feral growls of vocalist Riku Niemelä unleash rabidly addictive and largely decipherable vocal hooks. Meanwhile the rhythm section excels and holds down a rugged, groovy platform for guitarist Toni Majores to punch out A-grade, Stockholm-styled buzzsaw riffage, riddled with emotive sludge and doom influences, stirring melodies and bluesy swagger.  And if my earlier mention of an outstanding opening stretch indicated the album is frontloaded, the middle and back half stacks up remarkably well. The bluesy riffs and swagger of “The Reverend” is lively and crushing, “Firebride” is a riveting tune featuring seismic riffs and seething aggression, while closer “For the Dead Travel Fast” unfolds into a rumbling, doomy delight, beautifully adorned with an inspired female vocal. These little variables are what keeps Firebride from stagnating or becoming too predictable. The individuality of each song also holds the album in good stead regarding longevity and replay value.

Firebride is an outstanding early year highlight that is likely to stay in regular rotation. Don’t be fooled by the straightforward structures and riffs, Black Royal crafted an album with substance and character, delivering a ripping collection of bruising and infectious songs, which will not soon be forgotten. Putting their own creative and highly addictive stamp on tried and true old school death and doom values, Black Royal have honed their craft to release an album oozing with an abundance of sledgehammer grooves, killer riffs, and ridiculously catchy hooks.

Comprised of underground scene veterans, Fvneral Fvkk take a deadly serious approach to their craft. Carnal Confessions is a sorrowful, haunting and highly addictive opus of epic magnitude, an album with a deeply immersive and shattering emotional core that gets under the skin in a bleak yet wonderful way. Lyrically themed around the disturbing sexual abuse sins from members of the clergy, Fvneral Fvkk use their hefty blend of epic, traditional and modern doom tropes in darkly expressive ways, condemning the vile acts that have occurred against the innocent and voicing their disdain towards the church. Powerfully constructed and consistently gripping album from start to finish, Carnal Confessions is an album that stays with you long after the haunting final notes subside.

Ominous and disturbing opening intro “Omnia Ad Dei Gloriam” feeds into the chunky riffs and mournful leads of “Chapel of Abuse,” an early showcase for the album’s addictive, ironclad riffage, pounding rhythm section, and soulful, stately cleans of singer Cantor Cinaedicus. The one-two gut punch of “A Shadow in the Dormitory” and “Alone with the Cross” are harrowing melodic doom beasts with killer all round performances and some of the most striking melodies and addictive hooks of the year. Shorter than the generally epic lengths of most tracks, “The Hallowed Leech” is a riffy delight with sombre lead work and another showstopping vocal performance. There’s nothing on the album that represents a misstep or weak link, the impressive opus coming to a suitably dark, gloomy and strikingly melodic note on closer “When God is Not Watching.”

Despite the constantly dreary tone and heartbreakingly emotive mood, I don’t find the album a slog to get through or the kind of depressive listen that can deter high rotation. The addictive melodies and simple power of the sturdy riffs consistently grip, especially when coupled with Cantor’s striking vocal melodies and the often lengthy yet dynamically structured and engaging compositions. The rhythm section lays down a mighty foundation, but special mention goes to guitarist Decanus Obscaenus for his elegant, no-frills performance and seemingly endless supply of addictive riffs and tear-jerking melodic embellishments. Complimenting the excellent song-writing is the excellent production. Carnal Confessions sounds huge and is a beautifully rendered mix of almighty heft, breathable dynamics and overarching warmth and clarity.

Carnal Confessions is not only a highlight for the 2019 doom scene, but a towering release that stands imposingly alongside the cream of the metal crop of the year. Fvneral Fvkk may have fooled some listeners with their chosen moniker, yet make no mistake, Carnal Confessions packs a wallop and is an essential slice of gut wrenching doom.

Warcrab craft their unique identity out of a range of familiar and classic influences, ranging from the bluesy, Sabbathian sludge of Iron Monkey and Crowbar, to the tank-like power and groove of Bolt Thrower, and nods to Necroticism-era Carcass. Warcrab unleash a truly exceptional and destructive platter of power. As good an album as their previous outing proved to be, Damned in Endless Night has it beaten and feels like another gear shift upwards as Warcrab refine and develop their trademark style without sacrificing the brutal nature of their powerhouse sound. Scene setting instrumental “Perpetua” showcases Warcrab’s melodic eloquence, before getting down to business with the dirty riffs and blockbuster death-sludge grooves of “Halo of Flies.”

Warcrab leave nothing left in the tank as they lurch from one stellar song to another, each with their own distinctive hooks and stamp of authority. However, Warcrab’s song-writing is no one tricky pony. Damned in Endless Night is bolstered by smart dynamic shifts littering the album. For instance, Warcrab effortlessly morph from the tortuous doom slog and opening salvo of the tremendous “Blood of the Blood God” into a meaty, upbeat death metal groove that defines the song’s bruising later half. “Kraken Arise” is a dominating beast of formidable death, loaded with infectious riffs and headbanging groove. Meanwhile, the epic “Unfurling Wings of Damnation” does a fine job of representing Warcrab’s darker melancholy hues and emotively powerful melodies.

Thick, oozing, groove-laced death remains at the core of the Warcrab sound, with their notable sludge and doom influences adding further heft, swagger and a vibrant tinge to proceedings, resulting in the mutated hybrid of excellence displayed throughout Damned in Endless Night. Slower, crushing modes of destruction are offset by the band’s livelier forays, such as the bluesy swing and rugged grooves of “Magnetic Fields Collapse.” Warcrab’s triple pronged guitar arsenal sling boulder sized riffs with bulldozing and infectious impact. However it’s the swaggering NOLA-esque blues-sludge riffs, funereal melodies, and scorching solos from lead guitarist Geoff Holmes that elevates already great material. The rest of the band perform admirably, with Martyn Grant’s powerhouse growls and mid-ranged tones the ideal mouthpiece to the punishing music, occasionally recalling Jeff Walker (Carcass). The richly dynamic, bruising production job provides the ideal sonic platform to complement Warcrab’s destructive, uncompromising style.

Warcrab successfully upped the ante and delivered their finest work yet with Damned In Endless Night, stomping confidently into the elite realms of the death metal scene, armed with a brutal artillery of sludge and doom plated death. Damned in Endless Night pounds out brutishly heavy, highly addictive and surprisingly nuanced slabs of death-sludge and is one of the highlights of 2019.

Rogga knows his shit and taps into the rich veins of the ‘90s scene of his homeland, crafting a simple yet majestic slab of beefy and melancholic melodeath goodness, rich in dreary atmosphere and sparkling with gloomy melodies and hefty, headbangable riffs. The formula is familiar and rather straightforward, which makes the engaging, catchy nature of the album even more impressive, a testament to the experience and expert craftmanship wielded by a man that bleeds death metal authenticity. Well written and concise songs make for a sharp and easily replayable listen, free from over-indulgence and unnecessary embellishments, though the crafty integration of synths and creative drum patterns adds tasteful flair to the hearty stew.

A burly crunch defines the album’s ample catchy riffs and overall tone, while the predominantly mid-tempo delivery is enlivened by well incorporated shifts in pace and momentum, revealing solidly dynamic compositions and individuality. Rogga’s gruff growls and pitch variations offer the perfect accompaniment to songs that strike a nifty balance of brutality, melody and sheer sonic girth. Chugging riffs, melodic squalls and energetic drumming propel the beastly grooves and irresistible hooks of “Giants Walking at Night,” just one of a handful of standout cuts throughout a consistently solid album. “As Evil Seeps Out” is a simple yet vintage sounding melodeath gem, boasting addictive melodies, chunky riffs and dark, brooding grooves. Closing out with the downtrodden doomy wallop of “In the Grip of Garpedans,” Entrance to the Otherwhere ends on an emotively gloomy note.

Bolstered by a rich, warm and organic production, Entrance to the Otherwhere sounds fantastic and Rogga’s tight and confident guitar work bristles with energy and gripping hooks, the differing elements forming a harmonious combination. The downsides are relatively minor but worthy of mention. As inspired as the writing and playing on the album proves to be, overall Rogga isn’t really exploring any new territory or pushing boundaries creatively. And as occasionally outstanding as parts of the album are, it falls short of mind blowing levels of awesomeness, while atmospheric instrumental “Berget Vaknar” is a pleasant but unnecessary momentum killer. Rogga’s intent appears to revolve around upgrading the classic melodic death sound of the ‘90s era, mastered by the likes of Edge of Sanity, when the darkened melodies didn’t compromise an overarching degree of heaviness and ruggedness. In this regard Rogga has done an exceptional job.

Entrance to the Otherwhere may struggle to match some of 2019’s more adventurous and essential death metal albums, but it more than holds its own within the confines of a classic style being rebooted by a master of his craft. Catchy songs that revel in their understated constructions and entice the listener back for more dominate an album of polished melodeath gems that put guts, grit and timeless flair into the melodeath scene. A solid accomplishment indeed.

Slapping a definitive label on The Odious and their shape-shifting sound is no easy task. And this remains so on Vesica Piscis. Think a colourful blend of progressive death, infused with spazzed-out, jazzy math rock coupled with the druggy melancholy and gorgeous darkened melodies that recall vintage Alice In Chains. This may give some indication of what you’re getting into, but even still, The Odious and their restless collage of robust, complex metal still holds many surprises. Vesica Piscis is one hell of a journey across 50 minutes of exhilarating and innovative modern metal.

The progressive label has a tendency to ward off certain metal listeners, yet much like Sermon’s excellent Birth of the Marvellous album from earlier in the year, The Odious expand the boundaries while staying true to their aggressive metal roots to craft songs with the appeal to reel in listeners from the broader metal spectrum. Speaking of which, the songs comprising Vesica Piscis are exceptionally well crafted, despite their often unconventional detours and structures. The writing is slick, extremely addictive and memorable, while remaining fluid in its cohesiveness. Soaring hooks sit amidst intricate musicianship and busy compositions loaded with muscular riffs, boundless energy, creatively complex drum patterns, and a multi-faceted vocal approach that is enforced with potent effectiveness.

Opening scene setter “Scape” creates a jumbled, unsettling atmosphere but doesn’t offer anything especially compelling. Thankfully, as soon as first proper track “Repugnant” kicks into the gear, the album comes to life with caffeinated immediacy. Aggressive prog-death collides with quirky passages of restraint, hardcore-tinged attitude, and bulldozing grooves. Tied together with a typically diverse vocal performance, including memorable cleanly sung moments and a hearty range of extreme styles, it’s a commanding beginning to the album. Buffeted with vintage synths, gorgeous melodies, and a laidback ‘90s grunge feel, “Glowjaw” sounds both fresh and familiar, breaking the album’s more aggressive, heavier streak with impressive results. Boasting a hugely energetic and thrashy streak, “Hastor the Shepard Gaunt,” bristles with creativity and bruising heaviness, upping the ante in swaggering style. Meanwhile, later album cut “Misuse and Malignment” offers a concise slab of hooky, jazz-infected metal; aggressive, high energy, and deliciously groovy and unpredictable.

Production-wise, Vesica Piscis is enamoured with a bright, modern punch, yet doesn’t sound sterile or clinical in the least, offering a well balanced mix of clarity, depth and heft. Several tracks raise the stakes, but overall, it’s a remarkably strong and consistent listen across the board. Despite its hefty length and the purposefully, yet frustratingly chopped up climax to the Alice In Chains-esque closing balled “Fix,” The Odious keep things tight and interesting throughout the album’s duration. Following a lengthy break between drinks, The Odious smashed it out of the park with Vesica Piscis and crafted a unique, adventurous and compelling extreme metal album. This is the sort of metal album that will likely divide audiences, but for the adventurous listener, the rewards are very fruitful indeed.

As expected, the musicianship is top shelf stuff, with the tight delivery, sweeping melodies and neo-classical embellishments backed by more frenetic and thrashy death metal riffage, bolstered by energetic drumming and a dual high and low vocal approach that adds welcome variety to the equation. The delivery sometimes reminds of a more flowery, technically indulgent The Black Dahlia Murder, although the cheesier aspects of Flub’s formula can be a tad off-putting. Regardless there’s plenty of upsides to the album, despite lingering doubts remaining about longer term replay value.

In the moment, the writing is generally sleek and enjoyable, working best as an extended and pleasingly concise experience, due to the album’s efficiently cutthroat 27-minute duration. “Last Breath” is a fittingly juiced and thrashing opener, delivering high energy immediacy, along with quirky passages and dynamic shifts in tone and tempo. Rapid fire follow-up “Blossom” is another ripping number, though could do without the distracting elements that take some of the potency away from the blasty aggression and up-tempo speed.

Boasting a mix of heft with livewire speed and aggro, closer ”Wild Smoke” largely scales down the grandeur, ending the album on a frantic high note. Throughout the album, the songwriting comes across as engaging enough in the moment, but when the stylish barrage fades there’s little to recall concretely in the memory bank, indicating a shortage of deeply penetrating hooks. This is a common problem with tech death, so hopefully on future releases the band can harness their skills to craft songs with greater staying power and general memorability.

Flub crafted a fun and accessible album with this confident self-titled effort. Although the indulgent aspects of their sound aren’t especially overdone, the somewhat questionable flourishes and musical experimentation occasionally proves distracting and a bit too cheesy for my tastes, while the songwriting struggles to leave a lasting impression. Nevertheless, Flub is a solid album of efficient and colourful tech death for avid fans of the style.

Eradication may lack a degree of adventure and originality, but I’ll be damned if it isn’t simply a rock solid, tight and punchy collection of thrash tunes, minus bells or whistles. “Asylum” serves its role as a catchy, riff-ready opener loaded with killer riffs, tons of energy and catchy hooks. It’s a strong primer for the material that follows. Despite donning several key influences proudly on their sleeves, War Curse exhibit a freshness to their writing that finds the band avoiding slipping into derivative retro thrash territory. Certain tunes raise the stakes and rise above the pack but thankfully there are no throwaway tunes or pointless interludes, as War Curse aim for the jugular and largely deliver a consistently entertaining thrash platter.

The exhilarating “Sands of Fate” is a neck-wrecking cracker of a tune and one of several notable highlights scattered throughout Eradication. Strong dynamics, streetwise grit and headbanging groove compliment a tune packed to the hilt with boisterous energy and powerhouse riffs. “Iron Veil” finds War Curse deftly balancing explosive bursts of aggression with pleasingly melodic currents. Adding to the arsenal are several inspired guest spots adorning the album, including killer solos from Forbidden’s Glen Alvelais (“Asylum”) and Heathen’s Kragen Lum (“Serpent”). Meanwhile a strong vocal performance from Exhorder’s Kyle Thomas lends steel and attitude to the scorching “Deadly Sins.”

The musicianship is watertight, with the shared chemistry and energy evident through the strong workmanlike individual performances. Forgoing unnecessary flash or flair, guitarists’ Joshua Murphy and Justin Roth get the done efficiently with aggressive, catchy riffs, sleek melodies and ripping solos. Meanwhile vocalist Blaine Gordon’s decipherable, classic thrash bark has enough grit and personality to stand on its own and drive numerous memorable choruses. The only real knocks against the album is that it offers nothing particularly original or earth shattering, while several of the track lengths nudge past their welcome, causing some minor bloat to an otherwise tight and vibrant package.

Eradication is a finely tuned album from the up and coming thrashers, successfully merging a rough and tumble aesthetic with refined and precise execution. War Curse confidently mesh their old school values with modern sensibilities, addictively crunchy riffs and infectious song-writing, hammering out an album that sits among the stronger thrash releases unleashed so far in 2019.

Euphoria Ω’s futuristic, sci-fi themed approach is kept intact on Nanotech, but otherwise the band’s angle has changed, without sacrificing the elements that impressed on the debut. The furious thrash tempos and Vektor influence hasn’t been discarded entirely, rather scaled back. Shreddy guitar work and loads of crunchy thrash riffs remain, this time their thrash formula features a crossover influence not dissimilar to the streetwise attitude and hard-hitting style of Power Trip. And with the quality of riffs and dynamic songwriting on display, Euphoria Ω hit the ground running with a confident, compact and infectious batch of tunes. Despite their relatively short existence Euphoria Ω form a tight and cohesive unit, each of the five band members nailing their respective roles with technical precision and finesse.

Nanotech is pared down to its leanest, meanest form, completely free of useless filler, with the six tracks combining for an efficient and easily replayable run-time, a shade over half an hour. In an age of bloated metal albums with unnecessary lengths, it’s refreshing to listen to an album that doesn’t fuck around. Regardless, there’s ample substance in each of the solidly fleshed out tracks, where the rugged, hi-tech individual entities form a cohesive whole. Opener “Electro Hypnosis” features the band’s more measured and gritty song-writing approach, relying on slick guitar work, brain scrambling riffs and an aggressive backbone to hammer their point home. Equally, “Respawn” relies on an energetic but mainly mid-paced clip, showcasing strong, catchy riffs and raw-throated vocals.

Initially the less speedy approach caused me some concern, but the double barrelled blast of hooky riffs, proggy touches and dynamic twists won me over and kept me clambering back for more. There’s a toughness and ferocity that lends the album a nasty edge, from the strained vocals and rugged grooves to the no-holds-barred aggression, this shit hits with forceful impact. “Labyrinth Online” exemplifies these traits and the song’s guitar pyrotechnics and rugged headbangable riffs are an absolute treat, while the motormouth vocal delivery would do Archspire proud. Meanwhile the knuckle dragging crunch of “Mechanical Carnivore” combines memorable riffs and measured pacing, with speedier bursts and a more melodic, though still gruff vocal approach, to strong effect. “Brainstorm” completes the album with a speedy clip and heavy climax, rounding Nanotech out in solid fashion. There’s no filler in sight and the clean, sturdy production and modern sheen fits the band’s futuristic aesthetics and lyrical themes nicely.

Overall, Euphoria Ω have pulled together an impressive, self-released package with a stamp of class and professionalism. Euphoria Ω’s futuristic and cutting edge brand of modern crossover thrash stands out from the pack amidst the nostalgia gripped stocks of the thrash scene. It’s this fresh, exuberant perspective that makes Euphoria Ω such an enjoyable and exciting band, particularly as the mighty Vektor remain dormant. Nanotech is a welcome change of pace and extension from their impressive debut, boding well for a bright future ahead.

The major hurdle for bands plying their trade in the old school realms of metal, is the over-reliance on nostalgia and unwillingness to move with the times. This can be all good and well, but it isn’t exactly a sound blueprint for creating something with a bit of uniqueness and identity, pushing beyond the constricting boundaries of being a throwback blast from the past. Black Sites successfully navigate this pitfall, deftly crafting hook-laden, traditional metal anthems with vibrant old school metal riffs, oodles of headbanging groove, and a smidgen of doom and prog to flesh things out. Exile is also a darker, doomier beast compared to its predecessor, without eschewing the upbeat, glorious hooks embedded into the band’s sound. Yet through the layers of old school appreciation and nods to the past, Black Sites still possess a sound and vibe that plants them in the here and now, a freshness and exuberance that separates the band from the retro pack.

Songwriting variety is present in spades, making for a diverse, though cohesive experience. The opening trio of tunes kicks the album into high gear, creating an energetic, sprightly start to the album. From the epic chorus, soaring melodies and chunky riffs of “The Night They Came for You,” riff-driven rock crunch of “Into the Fire,” to the rousing hooks and classic metal vibe of “Feral Child,” Exile’s early tracks crank the album into barnstorming motion. Don’t be fooled however, as Exile is certainly not a front-loaded album. Quality is well dispersed and there are no real missteps or pacing issues. “Coal City” pushes vocal limits to breaking point during the slightly drawn out slow burn opening, before developing into an emotive, doomy slab of progressive rock. Meanwhile the infectious chorus, slick guitar work and hooky riffs of hard-hitting rocker “Focused Totality – The Psychic Knife” gets the adrenaline pumping. Epic closer “Dwell Upon the End” channels the mighty Sabbath, with a doomy swagger, powerhouse riffs and wonderful musicianship. It’s a truly imaginative and memorable composition to close out the album on a soaring high note.

Singer, guitarist and chief songwriter Mark Sugar (ex-Trials) has upped his game and is well supported by his band mates. The musicianship is excellent across the board, but the guitar work from Sugar and Ryan Bruchert (ex-Trials) forms a particularly potent combination. Whether ripping out sleek dual guitar harmonies, bruising riffage or more delicate melodic passages, the duo deliver ripping performances. Sugar’s clean vocals also sound more confident and assured. He knows his away around an infectious vocal hook and his emotive, no-frills style has a rougher edge that adds to the grittier feel of Exile. Not to be outdone, the combination of bassist José Salazar and drummer Garry Naples (Wolvhammer and Novembers Doom) hold their own, combining to create a crafty and cushioning rhythmic backbone. The production job, courtesy of the band and boosted by a stellar Sanford Parker mix, sounds great, featuring balance, clarity and punchy organic tones without ever sounding overly clean or polished.

Raising the stakes from their solid debut, Black Sites return with a triumphant platter of old school progressive and traditional metal bravado imbued with modern crunch and loaded with memorable hooks, killer riffs and tightly written and performed tunes. They’ve created a confident sophomore album that builds upon the solid platform of In Monochrome in fresh and exciting ways, resulting in an immensely addictive and accomplished album.

While the tech death label has been thrown around, the term is alternately a fitting and loose fit. Yes, there’s a lot of technicality and complexity embedded into the Gomorrah sound, while guitarist Bowen Matheson mixes up tight, bludgeoning riffs with all sorts of flashy but not overdone embellishments, creating bending, atmospheric mutations and off-kilter chugs into a deadly repertoire. But overall Gomorrah feels and sounds less choppy, clean and indulgent when stacked up against the basic template for modern tech death, with the tools to appeal to listeners that don’t generally get down with tech. “Frailty” pummels, jabs and grooves with a tasty mix of full throttle aggression and thumping mid-paced restraint. The album’s concise duration leaves no room for filler and every cut is meticulously crafted, compelling and memorable. “For Those of Eld” features an engrossing display of Gomorrah’s numerous strengths, from vicious blasting, to ominous atmospheric melodies, complex musicianship and chunkified grooves. An almost blackened vibe and visceral intensity permeates the brooding and spacious melodic backbone of “The Carnal Wrought.” Gomorrah concludes in pleasingly climactic circumstances on the spastic, doomy psych-death romp, “Of Ghosts and the Grave.”

Matheson’s partner in crime Jeff Bryan has a solid low growl that compliments the dark, oppressive but surprisingly accessible sound of the album nicely. Another string to the Gomorrah bow comes courtesy of session drummer Hannes Grossman (Alkaloid, ex-Obscura). He has truly become one of metal’s most prolific and accomplished drumming talents. Grossman delivers a typically mindboggling and powerhouse performance, blending scattershot rhythms with highly intricate and creative fills and drum patterns, while allowing breathing space for the moments of respite and rolling power of the ample hefty grooves that unfold. His playing is the ideal foil for such dynamic, varied compositions. The album is fast, blasty and brutal, but the atmospheric embellishments and melodic undercurrents, coupled with swift tempo shifts and oodles of groove, makes for a diverse listening experience. Furthermore, for all of Gomorrah’s tricks and intricacies, they’ve crafted a remarkably fluid and cohesive album that gels together smoothly.

Improvements in production (courtesy of Grossman and the band) lends the album a solid boost over its predecessor, featuring a more balanced mix and organic sound in comparison to the clinical and flawed sonic platform of The Haruspex. Album length is often an issue that can derail impact, but Gomorrah get the balance just right, paring this sucker down to a lean, mean and almost too short 26 minutes. The album’s shorter duration is a complimentary element that bodes well for replay value. And this is indeed a highly addictive listen that keeps you clambering back for more.

The Haruspex landed Gomorrah on the radar, but this confident self-titled platter marks the band as a serious force to be reckoned with in the modern death metal scene. Equipped with a tight, inventive and memorable formula, Gomorrah is a ripping slab of cutting edge modern death, technical, brutal, atmospheric and seriously addictive, it’s an album not to be missed.

Although the song-writing doesn’t deviate too far from Soen’s now well established sound, the quality, consistency and balance of writing sets Lotus apart from their already impressive body of work. The meaty riffage and complex, jagged rhythms remain, interspersed with soaring and often heartbreaking melodies and the spellbinding vocals of frontman Joel Ekelöf. He explores even denser emotional depths than before, and every song features a variety of memorable vocal hooks and stunning peaks. Each song is expertly arranged and crafted, leaving no room for meandering filler, despite the weighty length of the album. The burly riffs and metallic crunch featured on heavier cuts like “Opponent,” “Rival” and “Lascivious,” sit comfortably amidst Soen’s softer, but no less compelling material, highlighted by the title track and gorgeous melodies and fragile melancholy of “Penance.” Both sides of the band merge to great effect on the impactful “Martyrs,” a song that soars, rocks and jams through diverse textures and deft dynamic shifts. Ekelöf’s vocals are especially potent and adventurous on the track, leaving a haunting and lasting impression.

As expected, the musicianship is uniformly excellent across the board. The rhythm section of Martin Lopez and Stefan Stenberg remains one of prog metal’s most impressive pairings. Lopez attacks his kit with a deft mix of power, creativity and finesse, while Stenberg’s bass cushions, compliments and often steals the spotlight. Credit must also go to the tasteful embellishments and wintry atmospherics of keyboardist Lars Åhlund. Meanwhile, talented Canadian guitarist Cody Ford makes a strong impression on his first album with the band, carrying on the trademark energy and distinctive riffcraft of previous albums, while making his own statement. His epic, Floydian solos on songs like “River,” “Lotus,” and “Lascivious” are breathtaking.

Aside from some pacing and sequencing issues, Lykaia was hamstrung by a brutal mastering job that sapped the power and dynamics from an album brimming with great songs. A similarly nasty mastering marred the otherwise excellent Tellurian, so it’s refreshing to finally hear Soen iron out the sonic deficiencies of previous albums. Lotus sounds simply fantastic, boasting a rich, breathable mix and wider dynamic range to accompany the lush and robust tones, allowing the listener to fully immerse and absorb the intricacies and stunning ebb and flow of each fully fleshed and memorable composition.

Lotus is another triumph for Soen and step forward in their ongoing career progression. After many repeat listens, it’s evident that the Swedes have concocted their most intoxicating, consistent and memorable collection of songs, leaving no room for filler or half baked ideas. Fans of quality, emotionally heavy progressive metal would be well advised to explore the dark, magical realms of Lotus.

Well the answer is pretty fucking well. Plying their trade with impressive instrumental chops and tons of energy and intensity, Blade of Horus hit the ground running with a compact LP of powerful tunes, clocking-in under the half hour mark. Blade of Horus play an interesting and potent mix of brutal technical death spliced with slam elements to create a meaty concoction of technical flair, catchy song-writing, and a fat dose of brutality. The album hits high gear early with opener “God Slayer” offering a thrashy slice of brutality, killer grooves and technical prowess.

From the outset the band’s excellent musicianship comes to the fore, but the complexity and noodly indulgence doesn’t come at the expense of good song-writing. A trend that carries through the duration of the album, Blade of Horus incorporate swift and intelligent variations in tempo and structure, even applying some Middle Eastern-styled melodies into the equation on “God Slayer Part II: Fall of the Ancients.” However, for all their technical finesse, Blade of Horus certainly don’t skimp on the brutality and the album’s more strained moments, dicing grooves, and punishing slams carry enormous weight and lend a solid degree of memorability.

Obliteration is a remarkably consistent outing with the efficient run-time and lack of filler boding well for replay value. From thrashy bursts, techy forays, and brutal slams, Blade of Horus bring the riffs consistently and their solid grip of song-writing dynamics shines through. The title track offers a great showcase of the band’s various strengths, whipping from frenzied blasts to adrenaline charged thrash surges, right down to the vile vocal eruptions and cement smashing slams. Topped off with some eloquent shredding, it’s a hell of a tune. The measured yet unpredictable throes of “Temple” and the bludgeoning “Embrace the Abyss” are another pair of highlights on an album full of them. Closing (bonus) track “Cyber Demon” even features guest spots from Psycroptic drummer Dave Haley and Vulvodynia vocalist Duncan Bentley for added impact.

There are no major complaints I can direct at Obliteration. It’s an accomplished and fresh sounding album, featuring a first class balancing act between tech and slam infected death. Production is crisp and clear, although heavily bricked, but it largely gets the job done well enough, with a solid mix of clarity and heft. Obliteration may have dropped at the end of 2018 with little fanfare, but it’s a high quality release that deserves to be heard. And if Blade of Horus can harness their strengths and build further upon their impressive sound, the future looks very bright indeed.

Eyes of Blue Light dropped early in 2018, but I’ve only recently unearthed it for my own consumption after missing the boat when it initially dropped. It has since become one of my most played albums in a bumper year of metal releases. There’s nothing particularly unique about Necropanther’s formula, yet the song-writing and tight, livewire performances are of such stellar quality that Eyes of Blue Light sounds fresh and is extremely addictive. Conceptually Eyes of Blue Light is inspired by the classic Dune sci-fi novel and the dedication towards the concept and obvious passion for the novel oozes from every note.

Musically, Necropanther combines feisty blackened thrash with sleek melodic death, cranked out with furious energy and feisty aggression. The melodic and soulful guitar leads work brilliantly in tandem with the band’s slick tempo shifts, killer riffs, and aggressive delivery. Paul Anop’s vocals feature loads of character, with his gurgly rasp and surprisingly dynamic delivery lending the album a more brutal edge. The counterbalance between Necropanther’s emotive melodies and epic dual harmonies, against their thrashier pulse and gritty delivery creates a cohesive and brutal combination. Necropanther’s skill at condensing their formula into easily digestible and punchy songs works a treat, creating a lean, concise listen with excellent replay value.

Standouts are plentiful across a remarkably consistent album. Glorious melodies underpin an aggressive thrash and blast approach on “Good as Dead,” while “Shai-Hulud” grips with its sharp mix of galloping tempos, deft dynamic shifts, and filthy grooves. The highlights keep coming as the album hurtles along enthusiastically. Soulful guitar licks and vocal cord shredding rasps create a wonderful harmony on “Water of Life” and the short and sweet “Feyd-Rautha” ramps up the brutality, especially with the disgustingly awesome vocals, without losing the catchy edge that permeates each song.

With an already outstanding album under their belts, Necropanther demonstrated their prolific creativity by dropping the Oppression EP. And while it doesn’t quite stack up against the might of Eyes of Blue Light, it still packs plenty of quality and punch into its shorter, more direct run-time. Although penned by one band member, Oppression doesn’t stray too far from the Necropanther formula, but is marked by its own distinctive tone and feel.

There’s a bit more grit and grime present, in both production and execution, while the thrashy, riff-centric traits remain a strong focal point. It also features a darker, sinister tone, while retaining the band’s impressive melodic undertones. At nearly eight minutes in length, closing track “The Fugitive” demonstrates a more ambitious approach, deviating from their generally shorter song lengths with solid results. The song is well paced and structured, bolstered by striking guitar work, intricate twists, and fluid tempo shifts.

Necropanther have emerged as an extremely bright prospect and are certainly one of my most treasured musical discoveries of 2018. Eyes of Blue Light is a stunning album, not to be missed for fans craving a blast of vibrant blackened thrash meets melo-death. Oppression doesn’t quite hit the lofty heights of Eyes of Blue Light but is nevertheless another solid addition to the band’s growing repertoire.

Firstly, like or hate what they do, Revocation’s musical prowess is second to none and is worth admiring by itself. They are an incredibly tight unit, with the technical fireworks rarely overshadowing their impressive songcraft. Once again, The Outer Ones finds Revocation in fine form musically, led by the ripping leads and gobsmacking soloing of band leader and vocalist Dave Davidson. Davidson and partner in crime Dan Gargiulo (Artificial Brain) produce meaty, fleet-fingered performances; blending complex blackened, death-thrash riffage, sinister melodies, and progressive flourishes, with demented harmonies and wildly inventive soloing, shredded in typically classy style by Davidson.

“Of Unworldly Origin” kicks into gear with typical blasty aggression and livewire riffing, even if the opening riff sounds extremely familiar, like the band has penned something similar in the past that I can’t quite put my finger on. Nevertheless, it’s a solidly enjoyable way to break the album in. The Outer Ones possesses a darker, more aggressive tone, slightly reminiscent of their excellent Deathless LP, though the material falls short of that album’s lofty standards. There’s a notable shift into slightly blackened waters, while the progressive elements have also been increased, exemplified on the impressively tight and adventurous bluster of “Blood Intonement.” Certainly, the band has ramped things up in the heaviness stakes as well, delivering plenty of intense straight-up death metal moments and blasting intensity, such as the furious barrage that defines the title track. Yet the darker, heavier direction the band embarks on isn’t always to Revocation’s benefit. The more playful, thrashy, and inventive spark that defined much of their previous work has been dulled. And while the songs on The Outer Ones are well executed, they don’t lodge in the memory bank as deeply as one would expect from a Revocation album, nor do they sound particularly inspired.

Production-wise The Outer Ones is about what you’d expect from a Revocation recording. It’s not particularly dynamic or exciting, but there’s a slick balance of clarity, heft and energized punch. The musicianship features the impeccably high standards one has come to expect from the Revocation crew, even if the song-writing can’t quite match the pizazz or knotty and incredibly catchy material from the band’s best work, such as Existence is Futile and Chaos of Forms. Although I can’t really identify any major missteps, the songwriting simply doesn’t reach any great heights, despite a few worthy standouts. The album could also have reaped benefits from trimming some fat, while several songs lack character and distinction to stand out from the pack.

As a long time Revocation fan, I’m somewhat disappointed with The Outer Ones, especially when considering how impressive the band can be when firing in peak form. There’s no shortage of solid tunes, flashy musicianship or ballsy aggression on offer, but I get the feeling Revocation needs to freshen up their attack and blow out the cobwebs to avoid becoming a stale imitation of their superior selves on future releases. The Outer Ones is far from a dumpster fire. In fact, it’s a solid and intermittently engaging addition to the band’s repertoire. Yet in the end, it underwhelms in the context of their powerhouse body of work.

Right off the bat, introductory song “Naunet” casts an ominous vibe, as light drone musings and eerie atmospherics set Feast for Water in motion. However, it’s second track “Snakeskin Drape” that really gets the ball rolling, unfurling through a slow burning intro before unleashing into a rocking doom stride. Sara’s excellent vocals and smoky melodies standout immediately, while the driving riffs and straightforward drumming lock into a tight and catchy central groove. Topped with soulful guitar licks, it’s a killer song and further indication of the band’s talents. At a tick over five minutes, along with the intro and outro tracks, it’s easily the album’s shortest, most concise composition. Thankfully, the lengthier cuts aren’t detrimental to the flow and cohesiveness of the album. Clever dynamic shifts, stellar guitar and vocal performances, and the compelling nature of the song-writing’s slow burning fuse ensures Messa keeps the listener engaged, regardless of the pace or volume they are operating at.

Messa favor taking a more languid approach with their song-writing, wedging bluesy bursts of rocking doom with soulful psych deviations and sparse sections of ambiance and careful restraint. The combination is executed with great cohesion and the slower, more subtle and melancholic passages sustain interest and feature some stunningly affective melodies and tender vocals. “Leah” is a sublime example of the different elements coalescing fluidly, featuring another fantastic vocal turn, warm bass tones, and guitars that flip from addictive doom dirges to somber passages and tasteful embellishments. Messa maintain a strong level of consistency throughout the album, never succumbing to excessiveness despite the hefty song lengths and adventurous spirit.

The reduction in ambient drone indulgence is a pleasant change to my ears and though Feast for Water comes across as not quite as heavy, upbeat or musically versatile as the debut, in many ways it builds upon existing strengths, tightens up their sound, and feels like a logical step forward and refinement in Messa’s evolution. It’s also not without its adventurous turns and genre manipulation. For example, the darkly mysterious “Tulsi” rips out some tasty psychedelic guitar licks, swampy grooves, and swaggering doom riffage amidst violent bursts of blackened blasting which wouldn’t sound out of place on a Myrkur release. Messa’s exceptional ability to make disparate elements work with classy cohesion sets them apart and is well showcased throughout Feast for Water.

Messa clearly possess a passion for rocking, bluesy old school doom, from Pentagram to the mighty Black Sabbath, but they craft a sound with enough contemporary flourishes and individuality to trump many of their peers in the crowded domain of female fronted old school/occult doom bands. Messa’s debut proved a wonderfully diverse and eclectic affair. By comparison, Feast for Water is a little more restrained and focused in its song-writing approach, creating a dense and emotive tapestry of mournful, candlelit passages of dark beauty, soulful blues, and fat servings of rollicking old school doom with a contemporary twist. In doing so, Messa have raised the bar again and crafted a sophomore album to be reckoned with, solidifying their place in the upper tier of the current doom scene.

Amidst the myriad of styles and cross-genre pollination, sometimes it’s nice just to get back to the bare basics of what draws many of us to metal in the first place: speed, aggression and riffs, riffs, riffs. Australia’s Bloodlust keep things lean, mean and appropriately nasty with their violent brand of old school blackened thrash. Led by prolific scene veteran and drummer/vocalist Disaster (Depravity, Impiety, The Furor and numerous others), At the Devil’s Left Hand is the band’s second album, and they deliver the goods like the seasoned vets they are, ripping through a tight, livewire collection of ironclad tunes. What Bloodlust lack in originality they more than compensate with lively exuberance, killer guitar work, and a solid supply of bloodthirsty hooks.

Following a short intro, the title track kicks the album into gear, showcasing the straightforward blueprint of the album. Not to suggest the band is one-dimensional, as the song-writing is generally more inventive and dynamic than typical bands of this ilk, but they also stick quite firmly to their blackened thrash template. Disaster’s rabid snarls and super high energy drumming sets a furious tone, but the excellent contributions from guitar duo Spectre and The General are consistent highlights across the album. Influenced by early thrash and old school black metal as much as classic heavy metal and modern blackened thrash, the duo exhibit a strong grasp of melody and mix up their attack deftly, perhaps best evidenced on the very well structured and dynamic blast of “Death the Conqueror.”

“Freak of the Night” deftly welds elements of thrash, black,, and rampaging traditional metal into an epic composition, defined by its galloping rhythms, scorching leads and ripping old school shred. Cuts like the infectious old school thrash assault of “Deadly Force” and the ferociously heavy stampede of “Wolves of the Warcursed Earth” are stellar examples of Bloodlust honing their song-writing into more concise, violent bursts of concentrated fury. Lengthy closer, “Shadows of the Black Sun” ends the album on a triumphant note and is expertly paced, bolstered by melodic leads, hammering blasts, and pummelling mid-paced groove.

There are a few tracks that stand out amongst the pack, but At the Devil’s Hand is never dull, nor does it ever really lose momentum. Sure a couple of songs are a little long in the tooth and some astute editing would’ve tightened the final package, but generally Bloodlust’s feverish energy and potent delivery is solidly backed by memorable song-writing and catchy hooks. The production also serves the album well, providing an imposing sonic wall. Each instrument is relatively clear, punchy and nicely mixed, while boasting just a hint of modern recording refinement.

Bloodlust is the type of band that could easily slip under the radar and be overlooked for higher profile bands and releases. However, Bloodlust punch above their low profile and the razor sharp execution and catchy song-writing inspires repeat doses of the band’s infectious fun and mayhem. At the Devil’s Left Hand is a quality, underrated release that’s a top notch example of old school blackened thrash that should please avid fans of the style.