It’s that time of the month again. No, I’m not talking about the single sunny day in London or the sleep-depriving full moon. What? No, no, no—this isn’t about the eleventh Hawks list written in all caps. It’s time to measure extremely! We’ve hastily installed whatever patches we could dig up from our dusty 8-inch floppies in a desperate attempt to translate the transmissions below for you, our valued readers. Let’s hope it worked.
In the Sput corner:
You’re so not ready for our special guests this month! It’s…
– Calendar week 18 –
Chromatic Dissolution by Coffin Mulch & Mick Harris — Sam’s pick
In Dub — 05.02.2025 — At War With False Noise — Spotify
I admit that I don’t often care for new music that falls under the umbrella of OSDM. For one, I’m still discovering such surprising, inspired records from the early years of the genre. Perhaps more importantly, early death metal emerged naturally from specific times and places – part of a zeitgeist that imbued the music with a certain spirit. I think about Wynton Marsalis’ curation of Jazz at Lincoln Center, the goal of which has been to codify the genre more-or-less as it existed in the early 1950’s. Ignoring the innovations of the 60’s avant-garde (and beyond), Marsalis has compressed the definition of the music in order to transform it into a teachable craft, rather than a living and changing art form that reflects the conditions in which it’s made. I think that art that’s self-consciously traditionalist is necessarily aware of its boundaries in a way that its references couldn’t have been, limiting its sense of possibility. Given my attitudes toward this kind of artistic conservatism, it’s probably not surprising that, prior to this release, I hadn’t been familiar with Scotland’s Coffin Mulch, a band that lists as its primary influences 90’s Swedish death metal and hardcore. However, as a major fan of Mick Harris — as much for his playing on the early Napalm Death records as his myriad solo projects — my interest was piqued by In Dub, a record on which Harris uses the Glaswegians’ music as raw material for two of his own electronic compositions. There’s some continuity between the pace and dub-inflected rhythms of “Chromatic Dissolution” and Harris’ most recent Scorn record, 2021’s The Only Place, but the serrated guitar textures offered by Coffin Mulch lend this piece a distinctively threatening aura. In the context of Scorn, the long-tailed trip hop snare and hulking bass drum employed by Harris stake their own territory as part of an eerie, three-dimensional listening experience. On In Dub though, in thrall to a lurching HM-2 centerpiece, the proportions of these instruments contribute to an utterly claustrophobic listening space – a sonic environment that makes me feel as though I’m suffocating on industrial exhaust. At the risk of sounding cynical, “Chromatic Dissolution” feels positively of the moment.
In late 2024, I was pleased to catch A World Lit Only By Dub, a special five-track album celebrating the ten year anniversary of my all-time favorite Godflesh release. This wasn’t the first time the band gave us mangled dub versions of their music (Love and Hate in Dub is almost 30 years old now), but it was an excellent reminder of their unique proclivity for the nexus of metal and electronic music. It’s no secret that I’m a techno head, and though I fell in love with virtually every Godflesh album after arriving late to their music just a couple of years ago, I was particularly enthused to discover Broadrick’s own limited remixes of some of these tunes, which dabble heavily in breakbeat and acid techno. I’d always sensed a connection between my roots as a lifelong metalhead and my inclination toward raving and soundsystem music as an adult, but discovering this nugget in Broadrick’s catalogue made the link between those crystal-clear. While I still haven’t quite fallen in love with his industrial techno under the JK Flesh alias, it’s safe to say his body of work has been a major influence on the way I think about and experience music in general, and as a result, when dub takes on extreme metal tunes come across my desk, I’m liable to gobble them up. Which brings us to these fantastic ‘versions’ of two Coffin Mulch tunes, lovingly deformed & reformed by Mick Harris, who’s a genre-disrupting legend in his own right. With the second track “Cease To Exist” bordering on experimental noise due to its sparse drum kicks, “Chromatic Dissolution” is an excellent pick for this series, providing a considered balance between Harris’ own zany, dubbed-up reinterpretations of death metal and the propulsive, hip-hop infused rhythms of industrial metal. Even if industrial isn’t your jam, fans of sludge, doom, or black metal with a flair for the experimental will likely find something to appreciate here. My only complaint about In Dub is that I want more than these two tracks, which reminds me, I’m overdue for a proper dive into Mick Harris’ discog… As an aside, it’s pretty neat seeing my dub techno inspired avatar displayed next to words about dub inspired extreme metal. How kismet! Thanks for having me on and making this clever ‘pogtagon’ avatar, Nex, and thanks Sam for starting us out with a curveball track!
Way to embark upon this grab-bag adventure of a column with some normcore! In contrast to our beloved, perfectly ordinary {8}, I don’t dabble in synthetics all that regularly, so my appreciation for something like this death industrial (TIL) mini-release is both limited and context-free, but this is cool. From my Godflesh-infancy POV, the only real point of reference that comes to mind when subconsciously drawing a DM-electronics Venn diagram is Altered Beast — a collection of remixes of Animosity’s legendary Animal by breakcore mainstay Drumcorps. In Dub sounds nothing like that EP. The song Sam chose to highlight is a minacious tune that could easily accompany the demon dance scene from Jacob’s Ladder, but would definitely make me ogle everyone around me if it were played at a nightclub. Is this ancient, forbidden knowledge? Have we cracked the secret to Artificial Brain’s uncanny ability to write masterpieces? At the very least, it’s an unconventional and daring pick for this week. In hindsight, I probably shouldn’t have listened to this at 2 a.m.
Vermin by Askel — Cotton’s pick
Sundered — 05.02.2025 — Self-released — Spotify
Askel’s blackened-sludge on Sundered is as patient as it is imposing. Following last year’s debut full-length Cycles of Ruin, this Helsinki band continues to blend the noisy doom of a group like Primitive Man with a distinct post-metal-meets-industrial churn. While this EP lacks some of the variety that helped make their 2024 LP a year-end standout in the subgenre, it’s clear they’ve been hard at work honing in on what makes their sound tick – and have quickly emerged with a subtle and swirling slab of sludge. For me, “Vermin” is the standout track. It sensitively captures the slight rhythmic shifts, fragments of melody, and layers of noise that contribute to a persistent sense of motion that I look for in this music. Askel knows when and how to change gears, and although their moment-to-moment presence doesn’t always pull me in or push me out with any emphatic necessity, that restraint does leave room to hear the sprawl of detail behind what might initially register as a vague wall of intensity. If they can channel that tension more deliberately, their next full-length might just be more than worth the weight.
“Vermin” is foreboding as hell, a real soul crusher. In my experience, stifling music like this can sometimes struggle with sustaining narrative across multiple tracks, and after pushing through the Sundered EP’s tracklist, I unfortunately can’t say that isn’t the case here. But Askel’s approach doesn’t turn me off from their sound completely. This stuff is intriguing, and I’d be open to hearing how they traverse a full-length record. To my ears, it’s like….sludge-meets-industrial, without the industrial element overtaking the music’s tone. Not an easy trick to pull off! Speaking of which, this marks the second time I’ve come across a metal-infused attempt at a Portishead cover, Green Druid’s cover of “Threads” from At the Maw of Ruin being the other (and in my opinion, the clear winner of the two). Askel still gets points for trying their hand at “Machine Gun” though. It’s a stylish and engaging exercise, if a bit on the nose. Fellas, I don’t wanna come out of the gates swingin’, but I’m really not sure how I feel about this one. I appreciate challenging music, but the suffocating quality here makes it hard for me to really sink in. “Sun” sticks the most on my small handful of spins, and given time, I could see the rest of Sundered growing on me. There’s definitely something to it.
Alright, real talk: I don’t think the plodding and repetitive quiddity of sludge-doom is a good substrate for dissonance. When the disso munchies hit, and they do hit often, I’d much rather put on something more animated, something with more zest. Part of the reason for that is the recurring drum patterns. The way I see it, they tend to lend doom of both the regular and sludgy kind a certain hypnotic quality, which as far as I’m concerned is one of the genre’s main draws. When they’re paired with the innately grating characteristics of dissonant chords and/or background noise, however, the final product just makes me fidgety, and I take that as my mind telling me to switch channels. “Sundered” is pretty forgiving in that regard, and if I had to choose between this and something like Sabaton, I’d pick this in a heartbeat, no questions asked, but it does suffer from said phenomenon. The ominous vibe it starts off on had me intrigued, and I liked the concept of the slightly downtempo Norma Jean riff being combined with some incongruous, interference-like noise. Then it just alternated between those two motifs for the remainder of the song’s runtime, at which point I just zoned out — even on repeat listens. This is where dynamic drums would have come in handy to nurture the listener’s attentiveness and curiosity. I spun this EP in full multiple times and agree that “Sun” is more engaging. The whole release is “good”, but ultimately I would have preferred if the presented movements had been broken up every now and then, if there had been some mathy measure puzzles waiting to be solved, though I get that was never part of the plan here. While I was scouring the net for similar bands, I came across Cult of Occult’s Anti Life, which is more up my alley. Thanks, Cotton!
This track reminds me of “Never Was” by KEN Mode, one of the highlights of their 2011 record, Venerable. It’s a totally shallow comparison – the two songs just begin with vaguely similar guitar noise intros – but I’m not particularly literate when it comes to this style of music, so that’ll have to do. To run with my poor analogy, I think that the heavy bits of that KEN Mode track land as hard as they do because the band sets you up, carefully winding up the tension with whispered, barely overdriven verses. Conversely, I don’t sense any ebbs or flows in the energy of “Vermin,” making me feel a little lost at sea. I love some slow-moving “bad hang” music (Khanate, for example, is a favorite band of mine), however I think Askel is in a bit of a no man’s land. There isn’t enough space to force the listener to take this song in as primarily a textural experience, but most of the musical ideas are too vibey and amorphous to make this totally work for me at the riff level. I don’t think there’s a single moment or element that I’m bothered by here, but the way these pieces are assembled fails to draw my attention in any particular direction.
Survivalist by Lunar Blood — Nex’s pick
Anor — 05.02.2025 — Self-released — Spotify
Here’s a band to keep an eye on. When they released their first demo five years ago, most of Lunar Blood’s members were barely out of their teens. Twilight Insurgency, their 2022 full-length debut, was already a significant step-up and deservedly garnered attention from HM-2 fetishists and listeners seeking out grounded, core-informed death metal alike. With this latest EP, they’ve made another leap, augmenting their stylistic repertoire with a healthy dose of black metal, faint contours of which were already present on the aforementioned album. Opener “Terrorist” might have illustrated this increased propensity more efficiently, but it’s this second of the three tracks offered on Anor that best exemplifies the remarkable speed at which these guys have matured their sound. What “Survivalist” may lack in unpredictability or technical spectacle, it makes up for with undiluted mettle and the memorable lead phrasing bestriding its last third. Most of it is still comparably simplistic in nature, and the “bridge” part leading up to said leads (cf. 2:02) in particular could use some trimming or tightening up, but overall, the tonal language here seems more purposeful and more inspired than what was offered on the full-length. Production-wise, this is very solid: They’ve dialed back on the buzzsaw distortion considerably, making the more melody-focused writing shine in the process. I also love how low the vocals sit in the mix — not because I don’t enjoy them, but simply for the additional room the other instruments are given as a result. If Lunar Blood stay on their current trajectory and continue honing their voice at this pace, their next album could well be their breakthrough. This EP being a concise eleven minutes in total, you should give it a full spin and see if you share my hunch that they might be on to something.
This one’s a total riff-fest, and probably the most friendly to air-drumming that I’ve jammed so far this month. Nothing like a heads down blackened death metal track to get me waving my arms around and tapping both feet. Does anyone else hear a smidge of hardcore influence here? Either way, I’m not a betting polygon, but I’d put money on this group delivering a truly kick-ass live set. The energy coming through my headphones right now is perfectly visceral and obviously self-assured. Plus, each sound is right where it needs to be in the mix for maximum shine, and in a style where distortion is often emphasized (and sometimes overdone), the clarity throughout is much appreciated. I also appreciate the relative simplicity here – Lunar Blood’s performance on “Survivalist” (and the whole Anor EP) is proof that less can absolutely be more. I’d agree these guys are on to something, and if they don’t break through on their next album, I’ll be surprised. Kudos are also due for the satisfying and cohesive three-track EP. I love this album format, but it does sometimes leave me feeling as though I’ve been served half a pint of beer or something. This is the real deal, folks! No half-pours here.
Lunar Blood clearly have a deep reverence for the dustier corners of the record store, drawing from a rich vein of influences to fuel their abstract assault of blackened-death-crust-melo-core. On “Survivalist” – and throughout Anor – their sound feels almost uncannily polished, like a large language model trained on the who’s-who of metal archives. I am left with the sense that there is room to tap into the raw, questioning energy that only youthful bands with a naive eye toward distant horizons can fully harness. That said, I’ll happily go three for three: they’re definitely onto something — melding this many influences is no easy feat, and they make it sound genuinely fun and effortless.
Other noteworthy releases from week 18:
– Calendar week 19 –
Legado by Vauruvã — Sam’s pick
Mar da Deriva — 05.09.2025 — Self-released — Spotify
Caio Lemos, the instrumentalist behind Vauruvä, is a particularly prolific figure in the Brazilian scene, having released full lengths under four different imprints since the beginning of 2023. As Bríi, Lemos has explored a synthesis of Brazilian folk music, driving drum and bass, and more metallic rhythmic ideas. As Vestígio, he has taken a relatively straightforward approach to melodic black metal, developing more easily digestible ideas and elaborating upon them through long and winding compositions. Kaatayra has taken on several forms, perhaps the most interesting of which was represented by the Inpariquipê record, an oddly subdued album arranged with acoustic Brazilian folk instruments and programmed blast beats. Though I find Lemos’ output admirably personal and idiosyncratic, I can’t truthfully claim to connect with all of it. In this track by Vauruvä, a project on which he has collaborated with vocalist Bruno Augusto Ribeiro, Lemos is working with a lot of the same elements. However, for me, Lemos has achieved a stronger sense of focus and thematic consistency in this music. “Legado” begins with a lovely, wistful introduction featuring acoustic guitar, Brazilian percussion, and a Moog-like synthesizer. Distorted guitars slowly begin to creep in, settling into a lush dorian passage that, still accompanied by acoustic guitar and synth, wouldn’t be out of place on a Dan Swanö record. Shortly, the song opens up into more familiar territory, with blast beats supporting a series of open and vaguely mysterious tremolo-picked melodies. As the song progresses through its 9+ minute runtime, Lemos cycles through a series of inspired melodic ideas, shifting leads between guitar, synthesizer, and flute before concluding with a percussion-backed section that echoes the beginning of the piece. There is something in Lemos’ music that bears a relationship to music of the Norwegian collective behind Organ and V.E.G.A., groups that have served as significant sources of inspiration for Artificial Brain. On a superficial level, these are all musicians who have thoughtfully integrated electronic music into metal. More substantively, there’s a strangely peaceful quality to their textural and melodic ideas — and these ideas are often set atop contrastingly frantic rhythmic foundations, creating a feeling of tension between movement and stillness. Further, on “Legado,” Lemos demonstrates a painterly sense of color with his arrangements — another strong suit of the Organ/V.E.G.A. crowd — making for an overall compelling listening experience.
What’s this? Acoustic guitars? And flutes?! Now we’re talkin’. I’m going to be actively resisting the urge to slap the word ‘progressive’ in here as I write this blurb, so instead I’ll say: I’m thoroughly enjoying how Vauruva build and sustain energy on this track, as well as their clever use of unconventional mixing techniques. The contrast of proper black metal shredding with those acoustic folk sounds placed forward in the mix works quite well. The best ‘atmoblack’ out there always manages to balance a certain uplifting spirit (‘hopefulness’ is probably a misnomer) with the rawness and agony typical in black metal, and “Legado” definitely sticks the landing as far as that goes… And now that I’m seven minutes into this beauty, I just can’t resist any longer: I LOVE THE CANTERBURY STYLE PROG ROCK BREAKDOWN HERE! Got me hyped up, what a delightful way to close out the track. This is right up my alley.
On “Legado”, Vauruvã crafts a bubbling surge of prog-oriented black metal that undulates around tightly wrought riffs and expansive layers of melody. Oscillating between textures that emphasize a give-and-take between the guitars and synths, the music captures a sense of motion that never strays too far from the rhythmic swell of the opening minutes. Drawing from a wellspring that blends the folk-tinged atmosphere of Wolves In The Throne Room, the cosmic tremz of early Krallice, and the melodic death metal textures of Insomnium, “Legado” – and Mar da Deriva as a whole – seems to seek a space of embodied immersion and idle observation. As the track reaches the end of its 9:36 runtime, I feel a sincere and urgent melancholy, but in the moment of listening, it’s not clear whether I should be dancing in the water, or patiently observing the distant waves crash on the shore. Every moment glistens, and the vista is worth the hike – but I don’t think I would buy a postcard on the way down.
Like most things in life, suffering from severe black metal dysaudia has its pros and cons. Sure, I can’t add much to the discussion now that the council of connoisseurs has spoken, but on the other hand, I get to enjoy this on its own without subconsciously comparing it to 200 other ABM albums I’ve never bothered to check, or putting it into the context of Lemos’ body of work, which already encompasses an astounding 20-ish releases. The deaffolds aren’t covering my ears completely, though, as I had previously heard Vauruvã’s Por nós da ventania. By comparison, their latest offering feels a bit timid, which is a crazy thing to say, because the folksy instruments intersticepting and infusuring the songs make Mar da Deriva a vibrant and vivid sonic diorama. This is the musician’s creative journey in full view, the corners of what they offered on their previous work now sanded off in favor of fluidity. Or dare I say, accessibility? While the average track duration has doubled, demanding attention and requiring the right neuropose to fully take it all in, these three songs just flow, blend, and end before you realize you’ve just returned from a trip to an astrareal dimension. This is the kind of “atmospheric black metal” I can get behind. Purists might argue that the label doesn’t apply here, but in this exogenrenaut’s book, that is a positive. I can safely say that I get a lot more out of this mostly successful experiment than I do from the more conventional, true-to-the-tag stuff I’ve heard. The one thing that I feel could be improved is the general structuring, which seems to follow a consistent dynamic arc (crescendo -> climax -> decrescendo) in each song rather than evolving organically. Ventania was less predictable in that regard, though I’m suspecting that this perceived patternization may just be the result of the longer-form writing approach. What is the musical equivalent of a protologism? Stylogenesis? Genreation? It’s probably neither, but Caio Lemos is clearly not confined by any boundaries when conceptualizing music, and I vellate his efforts.
Inexorable Entropy by Escarnium — Norm’s pick
Inexorable Entropy — 05.09.2025 — Everlasting Spew — Spotify
My sample size for Brazilian death metal is small (Leprous Daylight for 2023 dm aoty, anyone?!), but those who share my yearning for the jaggedly kinetic and uniquely putrid death-doom stylings of Fossilization will surely find a cozy (albeit decomposing) home in Escarnium’s music. The title-track might be my least favorite on the album, which is relative, ‘cause Inexorable Entropy rules. But this one ventures into post-metal territory in a major way during its second half, which stood out to me given how relentlessly murky and cohesive the rest of the album is. I’m eager to hear the band personalize this post-metal touch as they release more music. It’s a killer track regardless, and the album is shaping up to be one of my favorites this year.
To me, the definitive sound of Brazilian death metal will always be what came out of the estados Rio Grande do Sul (Krisiun, Nephasth, Rebaelliun) and São Paulo (Abhorrence, Horned God, Ancestral Malediction) between the late 90s and late noughts. Predominantly inspired by consummate US all-timers like Morbid Angel, Cannibal Corpse, and Deicide, those two scenes begot a very particular sound — one that enthusiasts will have no trouble picking out from among all the Hate Eternals and Vital Remainses of this world: fast but ultimately plain riffing built around moveable chord shapes, varying amounts of vaguely black-tinted progressions, and blasts à gogo, played by drummers who always seemed to have the final say on the mix, judging by how prominent their instrument was on albums from that era. Simply put, it always felt like those bands’ main goal was to outpace their, uh, American idols — to one-up them, if you will — which led to an almost meme-worthy homogeneity, from which only Krisiun managed to stick out, if online rating numbers and name-drop frequency are any indication — despite, or maybe because of, the fact they were one of the more “vanilla” bands sporting that sound during its heyday. That brings us to Escarnium, who, while unequivocally galvanized by the Brazilian DM scene’s preceding generation, took more clues from the non-melo side of Swedeath à la Left Hand Path or Revelation Nausea than from the often-formative Conquerors of Armageddon for their first demo, and have unremittingly been straying from the above-mentioned formulaic approach ever since. Even back in 2009, on Covered in Decadence, they were already more in line with what we’ve come to expect from South American old-school-leaning (doomy) metal da morte in recent years (think Norm’s darlings Fossilization, Cosmophage, or last month’s W-takers Ataudes), but with Inexorable Entropy they’ve shed the last remnants of associative slough that had clung to them by virtue of their countrymen’s legacy. Their latest album is the logical conclusion to the path they started taking with their 2022 let’s-call-it-a-maxi EP Through the Depths of the 12th Gate and sees them move a few steps away from their more BM-influenced phase showcased on Dysthymia (which is not to say the BM grain is absent; you’ll find some rather clichéd chords here). The title track picked for this segment is more of a middle-of-the-road choice when it comes to highlighting the release’s strong points, but I do agree that its second half makes it a distinct cut in the context of a full listen, veering off what had seemed to be a lane enclosed by high-rise-sized genre-criterion guardrails up to that point. Comparisons with Fossilization are certainly low-hanging fruit, but in my estimation, Escarnium’s writing isn’t quite as dynamic and — atmo-layering aside — their sound is a fair bit less nontraditional, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but also makes for a non-negligible number of “Where have I heard that before?” type shapes and riffs. This is one of this month’s highlights for me, and a no-brainer recommendation for fans of the death/doom/black love triangle.
I’m stoked that a second pick this week is coming out of Brazil, which seems to have a thriving extreme metal scene at the moment. I’m immediately hooked in here by this spongy rotary guitar that opens the track. It sounds a bit like rippling sewage to me, lending the track a kind of appealing fetid atmosphere that I’m drawn to in newer death metal. Once the band comes in, Immolation immediately comes to mind, partly because the vocalist’s tone and patterns remind me a bit of Ross Dolan’s. There’s also a similarly apocalyptic quality to the music — but this track is a bit more direct and energetic in the early going, in some ways more reminiscent of a band like Dead Congregation. The momentum is briefly interrupted by the introduction of a Deathspell Omega-style arpeggio idea before blasting begins again. In this context, I think it’s a reasonably cool idea and executed well – but once this riff returns later in the song, paired with a reverb’d out bass and jazzy drum fills, I’m admittedly a bit less enthusiastic. There’s plenty to enjoy here, although I think that I prefer this band working in their more straightforward, menacing register.
Let’s get one thing straight: any death metal riff that hits hard on beat two (think Fleetwood Mac – “Dreams”) is a good death metal riff. No question. There’s also no question that Escarnium have crafted something precise and smoldering with Inexorable Entropy. On the title track, they stretch that off-kilter motif through black-metal-tinged arpeggios, lurching bass lines, and tumbling drum fills that drive the music forward into a contemplative expanse that nods to Unholy Cult-era Immolation – with a dash of post-metal flair. Chef’s kiss. It’s tight, well-considered music that offers familiar flavors. If you’re looking for a mouthful of cavernous riffs and calculated decay, you’ll get exactly what you ordered – just don’t expect to be surprised.
Rituals of Masochistic Divinity by Imperious Mortality — Nex’s pick
Eon of Ungodly Entities — 05.09.2025 — New Standard Elite — Spotify
If editing some hex values is what it takes to avoid picking one of the ten blackdeath releases that came out this week (most of them more interesting than that Behemoth turd, by the way), then so be it. There are three release dates for this EP: It was originally uploaded to the band’s Bandcamp on March 26th, then digitally published by NSE on April 3rd, and finally came out on CD on May 9th. Should including it here, after already featuring it on last month’s installment, be considered cheating? Absolutely. With that out of the way, let’s look at this vicious bop. The Metal Archives’ list of bands from Denmark is only three pages long, and if you Ctrl-F those entries for “brutal”, chances are the only name you’ll recognize is Iniquity. I guess you could count Dawn of Demise’s earlier albums as lower-tier Danish BDM, but my point is that Imperious Mortality are a unicorn in the grand scheme of things. Not only are they exotic in that way, but their output has been of remarkably high quality. Eon of Ungodly Entities feels less 2010s-y than their previous two EPs, but still retains enough founding-fathers-style riffage — nestled between a barrage of pinch harmonics that will delectate Putridity diehards — to not sink into the all-consuming sarlacc pit of hypertechnicality the non-slam side of the subgenre has been trending towards. While “Rituals of Masochistic Divinity” does feature technical parts, their intended effect is to add to the sonic chaos rather than serve as a vanity playground for a Berklee graduate. Eon is a highly successful hybridization of purposeful tech outbursts of this sort, nods to finely matured vintages, and tasteful, sparse slam wrecking balls. It doesn’t spin you around like, say, a Defeated Sanity record would, but will adequately Bud-Spencer-slap you into submission. Look no further if a mix of brutality old and new (or great BDM in general) is what you’re after.
Yes. Eon of Ungodly Entities slams, shreds, and squeals – but it also subtly seeps ever-so-slightly under the skin. Moments of lilting, verging on unorthodox repose, last just long enough for the jigsaw barrage to take over with even more oomph than before. “Rituals of Masochistic Divinity” blends the intricacy of early 00’s Deeds of Flesh with a palette of fine-tuned influences that, for sure, make Imperious Mortality a unicorn in the bdm scene. With only ten tracks to their name, spread over three releases (this being their strongest yet), I am looking forward to hearing them expand these ideas on a full-length. They’ve got the instincts – and chops – to deliver something promising.
Sorry, Nex. I gave this one the old college try, but I can only offer so many spins to a song going nowhere fast for its entire runtime. I’m usually up for a super technical and relentlessly heavy ride, but to my ears, the connective tissue between sections on this particular track isn’t strong enough to stick the landing. In all its brutality and rapidly shifting chaos, rather than feeling visceral as undoubtedly intended, “Rituals of Masochistic Divinity” causes my attention to wander. Strangely, I resonate quite a bit with the bookends here, in particular the dynamic opener “Reign of the Faceless,” so Eon of Ungodly Entities still gets my kudos for whatever it’s worth. I’ll chalk this one up to my pickiness with brutal death metal, and pass the proverbial mic to Alex m/
Other noteworthy releases from week 19:
– Calendar week 20 –
Prayer to Crom by Blood Monolith — Alex’s pick
The Calling of Fire — 05.16.2025 — Profound Lore — Spotify
This is a refreshing change of pace from the new wave of HM2-abusing OSDM that has been prevalent the past couple of years (not hating, just not my bag). What’s also refreshing is a death metal record under 30 minutes, keeping it brisk and punk. Production is simultaneously crisp and gross, with great clarity. A lot of the spastic vibes in the music remind me of old Cryptopsy while the crunch nods to Cannibal Corpse. Considering the pedigree of the band, it doesn’t come to me much as a surprise. I feel like I might be in the minority here, but I appreciate and respect the “oom pa” thrash elements on this record. The grooves? Not so much, but that’s a matter of opinion. It’s not that they don’t work; they’re just my least favorite aspect of the album. “Prayer to Crom” was a wise choice for a first single to give listeners a taste of what the album conveys. Some real top shelf musicianship on this record across the board but Aidan steals the show (I’m a drummer therefore I’m biased and is the first thing I gravitate towards when checking out new music). Her stop-on-a-dime changes, fills, grooves…she’s the golden girl! As a whole, excellent stuff! Does it reinvent the wheel? No, not a whole lot does these days. Will it flip your lid? I can’t say that it will but I would recommend this wholeheartedly!
Gee whiz, does this get me fired up! Everything on The Calling of Fire goes hard like grandma’s frying pan. The riffs? Hard. Song structures? Hard. Drumming? Hard, hard, hard! I’m not as big on Nails and Undeath as the majority of the Sput population seems to be (Ulthar are great, though), but this Lermo-Wall collab is paying dividends and then some. They took what could be broadly defined as a deathgrind foundation and decked it out with a wide range of allusions to household names like Cannibal Corpse or Morbid Angel, to name just two of the more obvious inspirations seeping through the songs. I’m biting my tongue (well, fingers) not to drop the ever so threadbare “all killer, no filler” here, but it would be an apt designation for this album. From their forays into groovy mid-tempo stomping (and boy, does it ever stomp) to the more BDM-leaning blast beat onslaughts, everything clicks into place beautifully. The individual gears’ teeth aren’t offset per se — the intermingled subgenres being congenial enough to organically coalesce — but it’s still a miraculous achievement to create such a coherent blend from it all, yet still make each song sound distinct. Brendan already lauded drummer Aidan Tydings-Lynch in his Goetia blurb last month, and I already knew she was a beast from her work in both that band and deathy D.C. grindcore outfit Deliriant Nerve, but here she’s showing off her abilities to their full extent: near-Gruberian highspeed tom fills, hissing splash accents left and right, driving blasts intermeshed with frenetically inserted snare rolls — you name it. Her performance is a clear standout, comprehensively and utterly elevating every single one of these eight tracks. Hell, even the oom-pah parts, easily one of my least favorite/most dreaded elements of metal music, sound interesting to an extent here. Lermo’s vocals, while objectively standard fare and brought forth in rather linear fashion, have the ideal timbre for this kind of sound and mix-wise are subdued enough to let the instrumental centerpiece speak for itself. I could keep gushing, but will instead politely ask you to click that play button above already. “Prayer to Crom” will give you a good idea of what to expect, though it shouldn’t be considered an exhaustive overview by any means. This album’s highlights are manifold, and death metal devotees owe it to themselves to hear it all.
I gravitate towards drumming when checking out new music as well, and had a feeling the rhythm section would be getting shout-outs from others in here. I dig the punk-y sample work on this album, and the band’s drummer is an absolute powerhouse. Truthfully, every musician here is a powerhouse, and the music is near-perfect in execution while simultaneously maintaining a welcomed crust. That said, these are the kind of tunes I would adore in a live setting, but don’t leave enough room in their blistering approach to maintain my interest during a passive headphone session. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy Blood Monolith’s work here quite a bit, it’s just kind of…boring? Maybe not boring in the strictest sense, as there’s plenty of energy and well-executed twists and turns here, but even after a few spins, The Calling of Fire continues to go in one ear, and out the other. I’m reminded of Hyperdontia, another super slick death metal outfit cranking out super slick tunes that please my musically inclined brain, but just don’t manage to actually worm their way into my heart. Impactful music need not reinvent the wheel, but I’m having trouble hearing much more than style on this track. It’s good stuff, I just don’t find it all that memorable. Eager to read some other perspectives here!
This is an unrelenting onslaught of crust-infused deathgrind, executed with the kind of flair that only years in the underground can forge. Every syncopation, meter shift, and structural rupture lands with precision on “Prayer to Crom”, and as The Calling of Fire barrels forward, variegated blackened and hardcore influences erupt with confidence and authority. But, for all of its vigor, the ferocity feels stuck – overly measured. The music hovers just shy of something more labyrinthine or implausible, echoing the warped architecture of ’90s Suffocation and the nerve-fraying-percolation-in-freefall of early The Dillinger Escape Plan, without ever tipping over into something as memorable or volatile. Blood Monolith knows exactly what they’re doing, and with a lineup pulled from scene stalwarts like Ulthar, Nails, and Undeath, you might expect the roof to cave in – instead, the ceiling holds. It’s good. It might even be great. But I am left wondering what it would be like if they were able to let it all fall apart.
Spectral Tyranny by Dead Chasm — Norm’s pick
Spectral Tyranny — 05.16.2025 — Transcending Obscurity — Spotify
This one was an easy pick for me; I don’t think I’ve clicked ‘wishlist’ faster on a bandcamp album before. Spectral Tyranny is a real scorcher of an EP, and a real treat! I chose the title-track because it’s 3:33 long; I guess there’s just something fun about dividing the number of the beast by two and arriving at one of my favorite angel numbers. Anyway, “Spectral Tyranny” seems to hang its hat somewhere between oldskool death-doom and blackened death metal… Perhaps that distinction is overly technical? What stands out to me is that menacing, long-form riffage, which my ear associates with the oldskool death-doom sound. It sizzles like electricity (I think I used this exact phrase in my site review of Bethlehem’s Dark Metal), and is unlike anything I’ve heard across extreme metal’s rich gradient of sounds. In other words: it gets me going! Instant stank face. But don’t worry, this ain’t just a spread of molasses riffs. Dead Chasm are highly proficient in the nasty, thrashy side of this style and do well balancing their demonic, towering slabs of blackened doom metal with furiously uptempo death metal stylings. After several spins, there’s a small part of me left wanting, but I suppose that can be part of the intent behind releases like this. One of these days, when I have more time on my hands, I’d like to learn more about how death-doom developed over the years, and who’s responsible for inventing my favorite guitar sound in metal. If anyone wants to point me in the right direction for some reading on the subject, feel free, and thanks in advance. In the meantime, there’s plenty of sweet riffs to enjoy here. I’ll certainly be exploring Dead Chasm’s earlier material, and eagerly anticipating whatever they follow this up with. For fans of Mortiferum and Phobophilic.
I already promised Norm a hug for picking Escarnium, so his monthly allotment is all used up, but this is another slapper of a release that definitely belongs here. Italian three-piece Dead Chasm put out a very fun doomy OSDM record in Sublimis ignotum omni a couple of years ago and now return with this appetizer for their upcoming second full-length. What strikes me most about their sound is the clear partitioning of crawling doom and mostly blast-driven death metal passages. Lineally descended from the omni-influential Incantation, they’ve perfected the craft of smoothly switching between those two sides of the death-doom style without bringing anything inherently new to the table; in fact, there’s no indication that the oft-cited “personal stamp” was so much as an ulterior desideratum for the band when they wrote this. Ergo, while I’d broadly put them in the same camp as Cruciamentum and Funebrarum (who likewise are death metal bands first and foremost, using death-doom as a secondary means to add depth to their material), Dead Chasm haven’t reached the same level of excellence yet. That might sound like harsh criticism considering how strong the three songs on this EP are when regarded in isolation, but should be understood as nuance, as an explanation for why I’d rate this band’s emulation of a beloved sound lower than any of the albums those other two bands have released. There is a lot to love about Spectral Tyranny, though. The production, for one, is exhilarating. I’ve read some reviews of this, and one decried how low the drums sat in the mix, while another claimed they were so dominant they suffocated the guitars (truly excellent tone here!) and vox. Personally, I really dig the punchy bass drum and found the snare to be pronounced, but at no point overbearing. Lorenza de Rossi’s vocals constitute another highlight for me. Granted, they’re not the most versatile, but they just sound so old-school and fervent and fit the songs so perfectly that I instantly fell in love with them. Riff-wise, this could have been more daring for my taste and I don’t hear much BM here, to be honest — which, while I greatly enjoy the D/D/B intersection, is a positive; that place is getting crowded, and the air in there increasingly stuffy. That said, the progressions are of the Bond-movie-evil variety I’m looking for and have the same timeless quality as the ones from 30 years ago that clearly inspired them, just without the latter’s novelty factor. All this is nitpicking — finding faults in something that’s basically faultless for what it aims to be — owed to the fact that it’s from a genre I’ve grown very fond of. Do you like old-school death metal and/or death-doom? You’re all but guaranteed to get a kick out of this one. Just don’t go in expecting another Grave of the Archangels.
Picture this: a Transcending Obscurity Records coffee mug emblazoned with this EP’s album art. You roll out of bed, shuffle to the kitchen, flick on the kettle, and in a few minutes you’re holding that familiar vessel – warm, weighty, and reassuring. It’s a ritual you perform almost without thinking: scoop, pour, stir…On Spectral Tyranny, Dead Chasm offers that same sense of routine. Their death-doom fluency feels just as habitual and predictable – no hesitation, no overthinking it. Yet I am left with the feeling that they forgot to turn the lights on – so locked into their comfort zone, they didn’t stop to think a guest might want a seat at the table. Whether or not they were planning to make me a cup, I guess the aroma was inviting enough for a brief visit? Regardless, whatever Nex and Norm are having, I’ll take two.
Сумерки Сознания by Bitter Loss — Nex’s pick
Demo XXV — 05.16.2025 — Supposed to Rot — Spotify
I love complex ramen as much as the next guy, but who has time to make their own broth and noodles these days? Sometimes meat and potatoes — preferably with some Mischgemüse (this translates to “mixed vegetables,” but commonly refers to peas and carrots in a roux-based sauce) on the side — can taste just as good. Bitter Loss have been around since 2017, and even with this slightly adjusted lineup and a new logo in tow, they’ve been sticking to mostly 90s-inspired, prefix-less death metal without much in the way of experimentation. And why stray from a proven formula when what you’ve been doing just works? Hi, Todd Howard. Patently inspired by Incantation’s often overlooked noughties run of The Infernal Storm, Blasphemy, Decimate Christendom, and Primordial Domination, the band had sprinkled in tremolo-laden death-doom segments on their previous two EPs, which they have now ditched entirely, save for this demo’s closer, “God’s Grave (’25)”, which — as the name gives away — is a re-recording of a song from their 2022 release Valleys of the Fallen Empire. Glaring inspiration aside, it would be unfair to call them a mere worship band. Similar to acts like Dead Congregation, Drawn and Quartered, or Blaspherian, they’ve always taken writing cues from (90s) Immolation, and I feel like those are shining through even more than before on the three new songs included here. While none of these latest movements ever border on the dreaded ‘tech’ designation, Bitter Loss have certainly upped their game in terms of heterogeneity, and I can even hear some references to prime Cryptopsy in some of the more off-kilter riffing they’ve incorporated. And that’s all there is to it, really. You’ll have fun with this one if you like any of the bands mentioned earlier, even if none of it comes close to reaching the peak of Mt. Death. It’s more of what you’ve grown to love, and a step up for this aspiring band hailing from a currently impossible-to-love part of the world. Side note: I don’t know why my old ears keep ringing after listening to this, but something about the production feels off. It’s full-bodied and staged well, but my guess is that some of the highest frequencies are bleeding through a bit too sharply. I’d be interested to know whether others are having the same issue.
I started jamming Demo XXV and wondered to myself: “at what point on the lo-fi spectrum does a death metal demo just become black metal,” then had to chuckle after finding ‘black metal’ listed second on the bandcamp tags for this release, right next to ‘atmospheric death metal.’ By this point in the month’s picks, it should be clear that I’m a lover of blackened death, death-doom, deathened black, and whatever other combo terms people are using to describe the push-pull between these genres nowadays. For all intents and purposes, let’s just call it ‘peanut butter and jelly.’ It’s good, it’s been around forever, and it’s goddamn tasty. Look, I get that genre wordplay can be an effective means of communicating ethos, along with band logos and album artwork. To be honest, I’m obsessed with the dispersive, historical contexts of music, and sometimes use genre-speak too liberally myself. But as long as we’re all on the same page that this 2025 OSDM release isn’t reinventing the wheel, let’s talk about what it is doing: brimming with personality, and making me *feel* things! For a seeming hodge podge of tunes on a demo, this album is highly persuasive, perfectly abrasive, and, well, goddamn tasty. Bitter Loss has earned a new fan today.
Other noteworthy releases from week 20:
– Calendar week 21 –
OuteR-SpaCe-EscaPisM-4eVEry1 by Psudoku — Sam’s pick
Psudoktrination — 05.23.2025 — Selfmadegod — Spotify
I have a very fond memory of listening to the first Psudoku record, Space Grind, when we were completing our first demo in 2011, having already been a major fan of Steinar Kittilsen’s earlier project, the furious political grindcore outfit Parlamentarisk Sodomi. In both contexts, Kittilsen’s rhythmic voice shines through, characterized by blazing, spring-loaded guitar riffs – but, where the music and aesthetics of Parlamentarisk Sodomi have more traditional punk and grindcore roots, Psudoku abandons prosaic political concerns for space age psychedelia, embracing more progressive musical ideas and laying on laser light synthesizers. As the project has developed, Kittilsen has taken the concept further out, incorporating elements of zeuhl and downtown avant garde groups like Naked City. Although I’m not often drawn to “wacky” music, I can’t help but appreciate the singularity of Kittilsen’s vision. Psudoktrination is still discernible as grindcore, I guess, but we’re lightyears away from Parlamentarisk Sodomi at this point. Listening to “OuteR-SpaCe-EscaPisM-4eVEry1,” Kittilsen seems now unconcerned with writing concrete, catchy melodies – something for which he’s previously demonstrated extraordinary facility. Instead, he stretches ideas out over a longer time scale, constantly modulating and elaborating on riffs so that you’re never quite able to get your footing. He’s also dialed to max the bounciness and kinetic energy of his earlier music, giving this a cartoonish and elusive quality that reminds me of greased-up superball bouncing from wall to wall – a vibe that’s aided by delay-drenched barks and the intermittent clanking of what sounds like a distorted metal spring. FFO: Tetsuo the Iron Man.
鉄男 is a sublime piece of cinema, one of my favorites, in fact. While neither Psudoktrination nor this excerpt from it reaches the same heights as Tsukamoto’s masterpiece for me, the double-digits-bit-ass guitar tone — which, when combined with the zany progressions, makes much of this sound like maximalist surf rock — and the unhinged, ephemeral barks do indeed lend Psudoku’s latest the same anarchistic quality. Apt comparison is apt. Listening to this album in full is analogous to watching a supercut of Argento-flick kill scenes as a pre-bedtime ritual, and I’m here for it. It would be easy to brand this as monotonous when having it on in the background — though I will add that if this is your go-to accompaniment for everyday activities, you must be either someone who has heard it all and now has to hear everything all at once, or Michael Caine still shredding totally accurate air guitar on the Children of Men set. But just when it’s starting to feel like it’s all turning into a unitary pulp, the individual instruments no longer discernible underneath the curtain fire grazing your ears and numbing your wits, there’s a riff figure that catches your attention for a fleeting moment and keeps you engaged. I never wanted Mr. Bones’ Wild Ride to end, because it’s weirdly addictive. Going forward, I will probably stick to microdosing this.
What if Car Bomb had a sense of humor? What if Bad Brains – even faster? Was that Holy Wars? How wet do you want that reverb? Misirlou? Wetter? Please? For the astrally doom-scrolling few who are, quote – ‘capable of staying receptive for several seconds at a time’ – Psudoku displays a cleverly visceral blend of grind-driven extremity. Throughout Psudoktrination – every few seconds, to be precise – I had the feeling that Kittilsen would run out of ideas. And every few seconds, I was proven wrong. Over and over and over. I’ve never been wrong in my life. I don’t want to do that again.
Holy cannoli, Sam, this is some seriously weird tuneage. Is it grind? Is it jazz? More importantly: is this, or this not, a Wendy’s? I haven’t sought out music this math-y in eons, but I’ll admit “OuteR-SpaCe-EscaPisM-4eVEry1” held my attention for the duration, and scratched an itch I simply didn’t know I had. I’m pleased to report enjoying a few more tracks off of Psudoktrination, and although I didn’t reach warp speed long enough to finish the tracklist, I’m grateful to know music like this exists.
Paysage enneigé by Krsnī — Cotton’s pick
Neige éternelle — 05.25.2025 — Satanath — Spotify
While previous releases from this Uzbek black metal band run the gamut from second wave aggression to folk-inspired mysticism, Neige éternelle – their fifth release since 2022 debut Groza – marks a refinement of KRSNĪ’s vision. Here, the duo have honed in on an immersive unfolding of repetitive melodies and waves of white noise that point towards their most deliberate and singular sound yet. Where bands like Drudkh or Paysage D’hiver might lean into an imaginative sprawl or a visceral plodding, KRSNĪ have carved out a path of restrained persistence. On the track “Paysage enneigé”, the music conjures a delicate interplay between detailed atmosphere and structural precision – each musical decision feels full of intention, even as the dense and flickering textures offer an alluring invitation to not follow along too closely. With “Paysage enneigé” KRSNĪ have distilled a shimmering moment of clarity: an understated step from a band quietly, and confidently, finding their way.
Wow, I am loving this. Such a huge sound. KRSNĪ tap into blackgaze trends on “Paysage enneigé” in a fresh way that hooks my ear instantly, and with greater impact than some of the immediate genre picks. Sure, there’s the obvious shoegazing quality here in spades. Yet this song feels somehow more aligned with dreamy, gothic expressions of a tormented soul than the float-y, ‘sensual’ emotional pastiche that is so much of modern shoegaze, to my ears at least. It navelgazes like DSBM and shoegazes like the finest ‘90s wine + 4AD record, all without skipping a (blast) beat. A surprisingly effective pairing! Maybe I need to give Deafheaven’s stuff another shot to see if it hits differently now — I never got bit by the bug, and haven’t earnestly tried jamming them again in years. I’m certainly not without pickiness (and blinders!) when it comes to this particular genre meld, but even with those pared-back-yet-still-looming-Slowdive-meets-Julee-Cruise swells, this song radiates cvlt and trve. Perhaps shoegaze and black metal aren’t mutually exclusive after all?! I joke, I joke. Anyway, this gets an A+ from me. Ridiculously cool logo and cover art, too. (The $6.66 price for pre-ordering the digital album is always a nice touch, or maybe I’m just easy). I hadn’t heard of KRSNĪ before, and I’m eager to dive in to the rest of this album. Looks like they’ve got a nice catalog to explore as well. Cheers for that, Cotton!
You guys and your obsession with sad music, I swear… Seeing as I’m willfully ignorant of ABM, Cotton has already said more in a handful of sentences than I could in five paragraphs, but the rules do be the rules. Looking at their online numbers, KRSNĪ, hailing from a country not exactly known for its thriving metal scene, are underground to an almost comical extent, making their latest release a perfect fit for this format. This kind of long-form songwriting, with its circumlocutory, largo buildup and reiterative guitars, doesn’t really work for me unless there’s a ‘gimmick’ involved (like Haake trying his best to confuse you with the snare), or the underlying ideas are exceptional in some way. That said, the band does a great job of setting the mood early on and then hammering their point home, shaping the tapestry of sound with utmost rigor by precisely altering petite details as the song plays out. These subtle shifts in tone and execution were mostly lost on me when “Paysage enneigé” was playing in the background; oddly, that’s when it sounded most interesting to me, though I wouldn’t recommend putting it on while reading the news. On the other hand, when I listened attentively, I did pick up on those intricacies, but my attention waned bar by bar. The enthusiasm evident in the blurbs above tells me this will be a feast for those interested in this kind of sound. So if you’re into the dreamy/atmo/somber side of black metal, you’d be well advised to give this a try.
On paper, this seems like something I should really enjoy. Contemplative, sprawling black metal with awful, tinny sounding guitars is one of my comfort foods. I have to say that this isn’t quite speaking to me, though. The other reviewers have noted similarities to DSBM bands or atmospheric black metal groups like Paysage d’Hiver, but there’s a harmonic edge or ugliness missing here that animates many of those bands’ melancholic tendencies. In that way, it’s a bit like the “Cascadian” Wolves in the Throne Room style of American black metal, which, with all due respect, is not really my bag. Something I do appreciate, however, is a moment halfway through the song where drums drop out and then return, now up-tempo, to barely any effect. It reminds me of a less exaggerated version of the opening track of Rhinocervs’ RH-11, one of my favorite USBM records, in which the entrance of the drums hardly registers. It’s funny, but it’s also an interesting statement about the prioritization of ambiance over energy, raising questions about the role of the rhythm section in this kind of music.
Disposed in the Chemical Slough by Gutbath — Nex’s pick
Demo — 05.21.2025 — Self-released — Spotify
I was dead set on going with something off Decrepit Altar’s Egregious Defilement until this erupted from the digital void. If the previous weeks failed to fully satisfy your death-doom cravings and you’re in the mood for a miles-beneath-the-surface-style production with a snare tone closely resembling raw metal-on-metal clatter recorded straight from a construction site, definitely give those cave-loving Croatians a whirl. On to Gutbath then, who join the tradition-steeped ranks of bands with a strong desire to douse listeners in unorthodox liquids — and, uh, other things: acid, blood (also of the ceremonial variety), womb, or black sab, for example. Their band logo and the killer cover art by Claire Morrissey had me expecting OSDM or maybe something doomy, and while I wasn’t completely misled, there’s also a good dose of hardcore-infused riffs and zingy slam sections. From an academic point of view, one could argue that this mishmash of styles amounts to a directionless farrago and points to a certain lack of identity, but I found the final product to be highly diverting. It’s true that Gutbath are mostly walking well-worn paths, and I’ve been hearing iterations of most of these individual segments for 20 years. Yet, when combined, they sound surprisingly convincing and, more importantly, fun. Similar to Lunar Blood’s new EP above, the basic ingredients are ‘minimalistic’, and I’d say this demo is a good bit less sophisticated in comparison, though it absolutely accomplishes what it set out to do: to get your head moving. “Disposed in the Chemical Slough” was chosen via the following scientific method: I threw a dart at a printed-out tracklist while blindfolded. Frankly, it doesn’t really matter which of the five songs gets showcased here, because it’ll take you all of ten seconds to know whether you’re into what the band is dealing. It’s a huge wall of death metal with an even huger low end. Speaking of which, rhetorical question: Can we talk about the insane production for a second? It’s mind-blowing how little contemporary demos have in common with the demos of bygone days. Sure, these days, entry-level recording equipment is both more readily available and a lot cheaper than it used to be, but especially in cases like this, where the band employs the services of third parties for mix and mastering duties, the term doesn’t seem so apt anymore. This could have just as well been called an EP without batting an eye, because it sounds just as good as, if not better than, many EPs I’ve heard this year. There’s an air of amateurism at points, like when you hear unfiltered noise right at the start of “Barbaric Fate” (a recurring issue, easily perceivable during the few ‘quieter’ moments) or when the low end gets almost too bloated 65 seconds into “Forced Immolation“ — all part of the charm. The overall sound is massive! As for the drums, there’s a thin line to tread between authentic and sloppy, but I love how unquantized they sound. The kick is thumping, the snare lively (and ‘live’?), and the cymbals (more specifically the crash/splash/China) seem to have been staged lower in the mix by choice. Fantastic work! Lastly, these words of praise wouldn’t be complete without mentioning vocalist Flynn’s growls, which round out the band’s sound to perfection. Honestly, had I heard a Gutbath instrumental and were to choose the ideal lows for that, these would be it. While I’m not completely sold on the (sparse) Tardy-esque highs, and the inhales at the end of the embedded track don’t quite land, the frontman’s performance doesn’t have to shun comparisons with the genre greats. I sincerely hope this band gets past the demo stage so they get to tour Europe in a year or two, because this stuff must be utterly pulverizing live. m/
Gutbath doesn’t want your approval – they want your blood type. You wake up a “Feral Human”, gnawing plastic off a shopping cart wheel, ankle-deep in rotting mulch. You’ve already forgotten your name. That’s fine. You won’t need it where you’re going: a “Freezer Stocked with Remnants”, humming like a hymn, filled with Tupperware marked ‘moments you regret’. By “Barbaric Fate”, you’re wearing teeth as jewelry. You’re being followed by a reflection that isn’t yours. And when you arrive, “Disposed In The Chemical Slough”, your skin sloshes off like wet paperwork. “Forced Immolation” is not the end though, it’s the housewarming party. Highly recommended if your idea of catharsis involves screaming into a bag of possum bones while stranded in the Pacific Northwest.
As mentioned, brutal death metal is hit or miss for me. I enjoy the sound, but with a few exceptions, tend to prefer it as an ingredient rather than the main course. Gutbath’s performance on Demo renders this preference irrelevant and sends me headfirst into a hypnotic stew of filth. Whew! Two to three minute songs sometimes get in the way of my immersion as a listener, but instead of compromising my journey, Gutbath’s take on abridged brutality compels me through the tracklist and highlights the band’s catchy songwriting. I’ve lost track of how many spins I’m at here, to be honest. This is just so enjoyable to listen to, and I’m transported somewhere magical each time! That may sound overly fanciful for an album with tracks titled “Disposed In The Chemical Slough” and “Freezer Stocked With Remnants,” but Gutbath’s debut makes me feel light and free in spite of its ‘grotesque’ presentation. Isn’t that liminal space part and parcel of extreme metal? At any rate, I must admit I have a slight bias due to originally hailing from Portland, OR. I love discovering underground music coming out of that city, even if I don’t live there anymore and haven’t had a pulse on its metal scene since highschool. I’m glad Nex remarked on the production as I had similar reflections; I think the superb mixing work on this “demo” does a lot to elevate the release, keeping it sounding raw and bottom-heavy while providing a distinct separation between instruments that I wouldn’t expect from this album format. Still, for me, there’s something greater than the sum of its parts offered here that made this pick an immediate hit and surprising favorite. In my estimation, Gutbath have a bright future ahead.
Other noteworthy releases from week 21:
– Calendar week 22 –
All is Hell, Hell is All by Onirik — Sam’s pick
Curling Serpents Under Stone — 05.30.2025 — I, Voidhanger — Spotify
I’ve been interested in Portugal’s Onirik for quite a while now, having first picked up Casket Dream Veneration in 2015, a record with a bleak, expressionistic feel that conjures images of impossible, Murneau-esque architecture and calls to mind the queasier output of Blut Aus Nord. Onirik’s follow-up, The Fire Cult Beyond Eternity, was one of my favorite releases of 2020, with Gonius Rex’s labyrinthine guitar lines, a hallmark of the former album, now complemented by more sophisticated bass accompaniment. On this record, Rex began to incorporate Voivodian flourishes, as well as dense romantic harmonies reminiscent of bands like Kvist or Thantifaxath. With Curling Serpents Under Stone, Rex’s stated aim was to pay respects to his second wave black metal influences, among them Satyricon and Emperor. “All is Hell, Hell is All” begins with a vintage choral synth pad laying down a progression of minor chords. Rex navigates through shifting keys with a sinister, gothic guitar melody that, strangely enough, sort of reminds me of Mike Moreno’s playing on Aaron Parks’ “Nemesis.” One of the things that really appeals to me about Onirik is Rex’s almost baroque sense of harmonic restlessness, which is well exemplified by the section at the midpoint of this song. He is exceptionally skilled at weaving memorable melodic ideas through winding harmonic corridors. While, with “All is Hell, Hell is All,” Rex is working with a more traditional color palette than he has in the past, this compositional voice is still clearly felt.
On Curling Serpents Under Stone Onirik steps away from the spectral fog of The Fire Cult Beyond Eternity toward something sharper, more wilful. Where their 2020 record invoked an atmospheric yearning – a persistent ambiguity laced through its blackened layers – this new album feels chiseled, assertive. What stands out most on “All is Hell, Hell is All” is this clarity and momentum: guitar lines move with a sense of narrative immediacy – there’s a discernible throughline, and Onirik emphatically pulls us along. That said, the band hasn’t shed its serpentine sensibilities entirely. There are still moments that twist into themselves, where harmonies feel just out of reach or phrases linger a little longer than expected. For all of its reverence to melodic black metal of the 90s, this approach feels fresh and idiosyncratic – offering a personal vision of a genre that is all too easily hermetically lived in.
I love cheese, in food and in music. I’m a staunch defender of Wintersun’s self-titled album, frequent CoB enjoyer, and often proclaim At The Heart of Winter to be Immortal’s best album. Despite my well-known penchant for dissonance, I *love* melody, and symphonic sounds in extreme metal are usually a plus for me. Unfortunately, I still haven’t cracked the Gothenburg code, but throw a medieval sounding keyboard lead or spooky choir pad into that melodeath formula and all of a sudden, I’m jumping up and down and grinning ear to ear. Why? I suppose I’ve got a soft spot for music that steeps in camp without shame, but the truth is, I’m not exactly sure why this pocket of sounds provokes such a strong reaction in me. I do know I enjoy the unique feeling of elation that comes from jamming symphonic metal of virtually any kind. So it should come as no surprise that this week’s Onirik track was an instant hit. It may not do much for those who prefer a truly bleak atmosphere, but if you enjoy fantasy or a sense of adventure in your black metal jams, “All Is Hell, Hell Is All” should be right up your alley. The whole album is excellent.
Black metal and one-man projects — name a more iconic duo. At the time of writing, I’ve had this album on loop for three hours straight in an attempt to come up with something witty to say about it. Not only are kitschy synths the final boss of my already weak BM game, but Onirik’s penchant for melody-focused, chamber-music-esque writing turned me off of this one from the get-go. It’s obvious I’m simply not the target audience for the kind of sound Gonius Rex is peddling on Curling Serpents Under Stone, so please accept my apologies for cutting this short on account of my lack of an informed opinion. Sam, Cotton, and Norm make it sound like this will be a fun jam for anyone intrigued by the melo/gothic end of the spectrum, and you should trust them on that.
Arctic Summer by Weeping Sores — Cotton’s pick
The Convalescence Agonies — 05.30.2025 — I, Voidhanger — Spotify
Weeping Sores’ debut album, False Confession (2019), is a dynamic and deliberate death/doom hybrid. The album didn’t top my end-of-year list, but did leave me curious about what the duo of Doug Moore and Steve Schwegler – best known for their work in Pyrrhon – might accomplish through this unique project at the intersection of brooding melodic doom and angular death metal. Their new album, The Convalescence Agonies, expands their core sound with cello, keyboards, and prepared banjo – as well as a guest appearance from Replicant’s Pete Lloyd. This sprawling palette isn’t all present on opening track “Arctic Summer”, but the band’s spirit for diversity seems to be bursting at the seams. The music stumbles through a detached back-and-forth of lumbering riffs and quizzical avant-garde fusion that eventually explodes into a cascade of manifold genre references and flashes of inspiration wrapped a bit too tight for immediate gratification. Somewhere between a forced stab at something idiosyncratic, and a calculated arrival that seeks to weave together a larger narrative – striving for something more than the sum of its parts – Weeping Sores falters where a band like Kayo Dot might display an effortlessly tumbling sense of imagination. The duo seem to be reaching, pulling at threads that just don’t quite loosen – at least not yet. As of writing this, only two tracks from the new record are available, so I am eager to hear if the rest of the album might unfurl into the catharsis a music like this deserves. Given that The Convalescence Agonies took five years to make – and is significantly shaped by Moore’s recovery from a long stretch of being unable to play guitar – I am willing to believe its full scope may just need a larger canvas to impose itself. Good things come to those who wait?
More often than not, side projects can be divided into two camps: They’re either so similar to the involved musician’s main bands that you wonder why they exist in the first place (looking at you, BDM/slam scene), or they’re so far removed from what you’d expect them to sound like from a quick glance at the lineup that you can’t help but be amazed by the artists’ all-encompassing understanding of music. Weeping Sores readily fall into the latter category, their proggy, violin-laced death-doom a far cry from Pyrrhon’s unbridled pandemonium. Also unlike Pyrrhon, whose finer sonic details keep evolving and shifting from release to release, The Convalescence Agonies feels like a true Part II, a faithful successor to False Confession. Whenever I hear these kinds of harmonies between distorted guitars and classical strings, my mind automatically cross-references them with the second disc of The Ocean’s Precambrian, an album very dear to my heart. While Weeping Sores’ sophomore full-length evidently isn’t rooted in post or sludge, “Arctic Summer” — perhaps more than any of the album’s other four tracks — does indeed share similarities with the German prog titans’ atmo-sludge opus. The melancholic motif introduced 54 seconds into the track sounds strikingly familiar and could have easily been taken from a track like “Orosirian” or “Statherian”. But once the blast beats kick in during the transition into the song’s third and final act, any sense of resemblance vanishes. The album as a whole strikes an exquisite balance between moments of fragile delicacy, languorous doom plodding, and markedly tasteful death metal, never once veering into the off-putting gimcrackery that can and frequently does plague any of those three. Were it not for my insatiable longing for ferine energy and no-brakes drive, this would easily rank among my favorite releases of the year so far, no doubt. As it stands, I can wholeheartedly recommend this to listeners who seek out the snug side of deadly doom.
I quite enjoy how crispy this track sounds, but have to be honest, as well made as it is, it doesn’t do much for me. Maybe it’s because the band put “classical crossover” as a genre tag for the album on bandcamp (seriously?), or maybe the music just feels a bit ‘worked over,’ for lack of a better term. I love a good crossover, and I’m a sucker for stylistic blends with innovative spirit. But each jump between sections of this track left me feeling as though I’d been picked up and put down, over and over again, rather than swept away on a compelling ride with many twists and turns. Part of me wonders if the band’s scope is just too wide here. Despite the sincerity and top-notch performances from each band member on “Arctic Summer,” there’s something clinical about it that I just can’t shake. I probably need to spend more time with their music, but alas, I don’t feel compelled to do so at this time. All apologies to Weeping Sores, and maybe this will click down the road.
I’ll have to recuse myself from providing any kind of a detailed review of this one, as Doug and Steve are good friends. I’ll just briefly say that I love this track and am very proud of these guys.
Tongue by Helioscope — Nex’s pick
Swansong — 06.01.2025 — Self-released — Spotify
Artificial Brain superfan osmark86 plays guitar (and more) in this band, so I thought it only fair to pick something off this second of their two shadow drops for the final week of May. Sorry, Darkside Ritual. “Tongue” is easily the most ‘upbeat’ song on Swansong, if you can call it that, and features a catchy chorus that haunted me for days. I have it on good authority that the harmonic interplay between the slightly angsty, double-tracked vocals and the guitars in said refrain was inspired by Alice in Chains, but what actually came to mind instantly on first listen was Nothingface’s Skeletons, both regarding the vox-guit harmonies and the track’s overall vibe. It’s probably an odd association to make, but high praise for my money. Instrumentally tied to post-rock and atmo-sludge, the individual segments flow effortlessly, artfully leading the listener to the lush sonic landscape’s main attractions, the most notable of which is unquestionably the two-and-a-half-minute atmospheric stretch starting at 02:50. The overarching ebb-flow pattern is stimulating enough to not feel like the track loses too much steam on account of that passage’s excessive length. On a macroscopic level, this album sees Helioscope take fewer pages from the Cult of Luna playbook and weave in stylistic influences from a plethora of rock and metal genres, all held together by a common post-y thread that could best be described as cheerless. My cheatsheet/informer tells me a lot of thought and effort went into fine-tuning the string instruments’ tones, and it shows. Production in general is on point, capturing the feel of a jam session or live show thanks to the forgoing of overly strict gating and compression. All in all, while my growls-n-riffs-conditioned synapses were left yearning for more moments of cathartic élan, Swansong is a great spin for a grey-clouded autumn day.
This is another song that’s a bit out of my normal listening zone, but I’m surprised by how much I’m digging it. The sparkly single coil melody that opens this track is strong writing and makes me think a little of Failure, a band I’ve been listening to a lot in the past few months. That’s immediately followed by an early 2000’s post-hardcore section that, like a petit madeleine, brought about vivid daydreams of my being subjected continually to the third Poison the Well record in high school friends’ cars. Recovering from this minor trauma, I’m really engaged by the subsequent clean guitar melody, and I particularly like the tag leading into the chorus here. Something that’s really selling all of this for me is how the record sounds. It’s crisp and high-fidelity, but the natural sounding drums and mellow high end of the guitars give the production a sense of class that’s missing from a lot of modern music in this sphere. Returning to a previous discussion, when the band falls apart into screeching noise and then lays on the sludge stings, it feels really earned. This was cool! Thanks for choosing a track that I otherwise wouldn’t have heard, Nex.
Full disclosure, it’s not terribly easy to sell me on post-metal with a 2025 tag. I resonate with the vision of post-metal, and I’m a big fan of many well-known acts within the umbrella. But as with any ‘post-’ genre, the exploratory intent behind its emergence becomes oxymoronic as its body of work homogenizes over time and inevitably begins reacting to itself. This is a natural phenomenon in many ways, and I don’t think it precludes new post-metal from being valuable, or even enjoyable on its own terms. However, I do think this type of self-awareness, when left unattended, can easily interfere with the source from which art draws its true power: vulnerability. In the case of Helioscope, the latter is served up in spades, admittedly sometimes using aesthetics outside my taste to do so. As a whole, though, when given plenty of space to unfold, this album works, even as it weaves in and out of my own palette. Track 2 “Tongue” is more ‘in’ than ‘out’ as far as that’s concerned, pushing hardcore roots into apocalyptically sludgy directions with movements that bands like Rosetta and Altar of Plagues would appreciate. But Swansong does more than worship the giants whose shoulders it stands on, and Helioscope have a rather clever way of incorporating tinges of emo, folk, and doom into their shapeshifting, melancholic compositions. Occasionally, the clean vocals here don’t work for me, as in the beginnings of both parts of “Wastelands,” but overall, clean and harsh vox are used fluidly throughout the tracklist, a contrast that works surprisingly well with the album’s stylistic journey. Combined with the band’s twisting & turning through soft-loud sections, these shifts in tone do a lot to imbue the music with its own identity and impact. Although I haven’t felt as pulled to return to Swansong comparatively (if only due to its emotional density), this album is a great addition to the month’s picks, and worth your time. Anyway, my hyphen key needs replacing after all these blurbs, so it’s probably good timing that this is my last one. It’s been a pleasure y’all, thanks again for having me.
Other noteworthy releases from week 22:
This was one bumpy spaceship ride — but what a ride it was! The android pilot’s cybernetic neocortex was working all right, but the Alcubierre drive kept sputtering. Sputtering. Words of eternal gratitude go out to Cotton, who procrastinated matters of life and death to be a part of this; to Norm, who will never hear the end of me nagging him for not writing the intro; and to the guys from AB, for downgrading to some centuries-old rollback code so we’d be able to communicate with them. Now that my hands are dripping with blood from pricking them with hand sewing needles, there’s only one thing left to do:
01010100 01101000 01100001 01101110 01101011 00100000 01111001 01101111 01110101— oh, I just realized that might be a step too primitive. Ahem. Thank you for joining us on this trip down obscurity lane! I’m sure Alex’s and your blurbs will make for a very fun and insightful read once we’re able to decrypt them. If you’d like to address us earthly humans, please use these. We call them “letters”.
Thanks so much for asking us to do this, Nex — and big thanks to CS and Norm, as well. As a band, we’ve really appreciated the support we’ve gotten from the Sputnik community over the years, so it’s been a real pleasure getting to write and learn about some interesting new music with you all. If anyone reading this is in Europe, keep your eyes peeled for news about our upcoming tour with the incredible Suffering Hour this fall. As for the rest of you, we will hopefully be able to share more information about our fourth full-length album in the near future. Finally, if any of you want to tell me how much you hated these tracks or something like that, feel free to reach out!
Now that Sam has already mentioned it, this line of text is mostly useless.
Watch this space and buy tickets the second they go up:
Previously on Extreme Measures:
March 2025 (feat. Defeated Sanity & evilford)
April 2025 (feat. Convulsing, Night & JotW)
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Helioscope aptly titled that album, because this is the reading-flow-disrupting “other” sections’ swansong. In their place, you’ll now get weekly release updates in the form of Riff Index posts, the first of which is already out. Listing 100+ notable May releases in mid-June makes a strong case for why uncoupling said segments was the sensible move.
Huge thanks to Alex, Sam, Cotton, and Norm for powering through this with me — and to Jom for the continued support on these!
Please feel free to show the writers some love, jam the AB discog front to back (also check Sam’s other projects Aeviterne and Luminous Vault if you haven’t), and/or tell us which artist(s) you’d like to see featured in future editions.
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Excellent write-ups from everyone involved, congrats
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much thanks to everyone involved, love reading through these thoughtful writeups.
that Vauruvä is awesome and I agree with Sam, admire a lot of Caio Lemos works more than I emotionally connect with them but this one is straight to the heart.
Interesting takes on Blood Monolith. Got a lot of deserved buzz yet Cotton nails it for me flirting with labyrinthian chaos within a Monolithic sound, and normaloctagon is right I'm sure it slays live.
Lunar Blood, Dead Chasm and Echarnium especially are all sick.
super interesting pick from Sam with Psudoku though like Nex I can only handle small doses of it.
looking forward to reading the rest, I see some phenomenal albums in there
Keep up the good work guys
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