Black Path | Of Paint And Ash | Independent

 

 Black Path is a Greek death metal duo formed by Kostas Mexis (vocals, bass) and Ioannis Kaneris (guitars). Rooted in a vision of emotionally driven, modern extreme metal, the band has steadily built a distinct identity through dense songwriting and a refusal to compromise atmosphere for familiarity. After their earlier works established a base of support in the underground, their second full-length, "Of Paint And Ash," marks an ambitious evolution. The album features several guest collaborators and instrumental flourishes that expand the band’s sonic range while remaining tethered to death metal’s weight and emotional intensity.

"Of Paint And Ash" consists of nine tracks, all composed or co-composed by Mexis and Kaneris, and explores states of inner conflict, loss, persistence, and human emotional repetition. The lyrics—largely penned by Mexis—evoke imagery and atmosphere inspired by dark fantasy, psychological trauma, and endurance, drawing structural influence from the symbolic and metaphor-rich world of “Dark Souls”.

"Of Paint And Ash" is an ominous, layered album that avoids superficial gestures in favor of persistent atmosphere and pacing. Its sound is cold, architectural, and methodically constructed. The music revolves around tightly wound riffs, bass that adds force without flooding the mix, and a rhythmic structure that opts for flow over sudden disruption. Ioannis Kaneris’ guitar work doesn’t rely on spectacle; it serves the shape of the arrangements and threads carefully through the bleak thematic contours.

One of the strengths of "Of Paint And Ash" is its refusal to settle into predictable extremes. Rather than leaning fully into old-school aggression or modern technicality, Black Path appears committed to mood, restraint, and a textured approach to heaviness. The result is an album that moves forward deliberately, willing to explore sonic space without sacrificing intensity. Kostas Mexis' vocal tone is controlled and restrained in a way that resists theatricality. Instead, his delivery feels rooted in internal tension, matching the emotional thrust behind the lyrics, which carry a clear sense of fatigue, distance, and confrontation with abstract suffering.

What makes "Of Paint And Ash" notable is its use of additional textures without falling into excess. The guest instrumentation—cellos, saxophone, mandolin, harp, and analog keys—never becomes decorative. These elements feel lived-in, placed with intention. Tracks like "Izalith" and "Evermore" benefit from these textures not as ornamentation, but as structural elements shaping the mood and pacing.

Rather than lean toward spectacle, Black Path seems to write as if each track were a continuation of a dialogue already in progress. This lends the album a sense of cohesion that doesn't require conceptual framing. The transitions between tracks feel natural, not forced into false climaxes or imposed dynamic shifts.

Production-wise, the album is grounded. It doesn’t aim for sheen or density for its own sake. There’s space in the mix, and despite the presence of layered elements, everything is held in equilibrium. This gives the record a worn, raw edge that complements its emotional depth.

The vocal contributions from Kiara Konstantinou, Iren Engel, and others help expand the album’s emotional palette but never upstage the foundational tone set by the core duo. Even when melodic or cleaner moments appear, they are absorbed into the broader language of the album rather than forming a contrast for contrast’s sake.

"Of Paint And Ash" does not concern itself with immediacy. It is not interested in standing out through hooks or stylistic gestures. Instead, it operates like a slow descent—each song revealing layers of thought, fatigue, and fragile resilience.

Score: 8.2

Void | Horrors Of Reality | Shadow Kingdom Records (Reissue)

 

 Void is a thrash metal band from Lafayette, Louisiana, formed in 2021. Led by vocalist Jackson Davenport, the band features Gabe Lejeune and Alexandre Bernard on guitars, Logan Davenport on bass, and Aaron Landry on drums. After a handful of digital singles, the band independently released their debut album, "Horrors Of Reality," on February 1, 2023. The release caught underground attention for its sharp precision and compositional density. In 2025, Shadow Kingdom Records reissued the album, expanding its reach with a full physical release in multiple formats.

"Horrors Of Reality" runs for 40 minutes and consists of ten tracks that draw deeply from a well-established thrash lineage. Void takes cues from both more mainstream and obscure thrash metal acts of the late ‘80s. What separates this album from imitation is its cohesion and confident delivery. The production avoids excessive gloss, sticking with a balanced, mid-fidelity approach that retains character without sacrificing clarity. The guitars weave through intricate arrangements without overcomplicating the core structure. The vocals carry a distinctly late-'80s character, presented with a dry intensity that avoids excess but maintains presence. Rhythmically, the band stays locked in, and the bass is neither buried nor overly emphasized—it simply occupies its place, contributing to the overall shape of the sound.

There is a sense of full commitment to the genre’s core mechanics throughout "Horrors Of Reality." The compositions shift frequently, with multiple tempo changes and riff transitions, yet they avoid becoming bloated. There is no attempt at genre fusion, no breaks for dramatic pauses or ambient intros, just consistent forward motion. This gives the album a steady, tunnel-vision energy that suits the band’s approach. Every track feels like part of a singular, fully realized aesthetic vision. Whether faster or more mid-paced, the tone remains consistent—serrated but organized.

Despite being a debut, the album carries a level of technical control and songwriting discipline that avoids the common pitfalls of overreach. Void sounds like a band that knows its purpose and doesn't stray from it. The performances are tight, the tone decisions are thought-through, and the pacing is effective.

Without straining for emotional peaks or narrative arcs, "Horrors Of Reality" stands as a straightforward, intelligently built thrash metal album that neither bloats its runtime nor cuts itself short. The reissue is likely to bring more attention to a band whose early maturity is notable.

Score: 8.0

Cryptopsy | An Insatiable Violence | Season Of Mist

 

 More than three decades after first emerging from Montreal’s death metal underground, Cryptopsy returns with "An Insatiable Violence", their ninth full-length and a direct continuation of their sharpened post-pandemic focus. The band, long defined by technical proficiency and speed, delivers one of their tightest and most concentrated albums to date—just 21 months after "As Gomorrah Burns", which marked a revitalized era for the group.

The production, handled by guitarist Christian Donaldson, is dense and punishing but leaves room for every part to strike with precision. Flo Mounier’s drumming remains relentless, mixing speed and subtle variations in attack that make each track distinct in pacing. His playing on this album is among his most intense, even incorporating gravity blasts more frequently—something rarely heard even in Cryptopsy’s catalog.

Matt McGachy pushes his vocals further than before, reaching deeper registers and more layered phrasing. His voice maintains clarity even during the densest moments, blending false chord growls and piercing shrieks with control. The addition of Mike DiSalvo on “Embrace The Nihility” is a sharp nod to the band's past without relying on nostalgia; it fits seamlessly into the album’s momentum.

Bass duties from Olivier Pinard add constant weight, especially in low-end heavy passages like “Fools Last Acclaim”, where his tone anchors the track while matching the tempo and intricacy of Mounier’s drums. Donaldson’s riffs across the album are jagged and tightly wound, switching between angular attacks and restrained mid-tempo sections that allow temporary reprieves before launching into the next burst of violence.

Lyrically, "An Insatiable Violence" is bleak and allegorical, drawing from grotesque modern realities like algorithm-driven self-destruction, internet overconsumption, and the mechanical cycles of digital existence. The concept, initiated by McGachy’s 2023 dream, unfolds abstractly through the songs without overt narratives, adding a surreal and disturbed psychological undercurrent.

Despite its speed and aggression, the album is not monotonous. Tracks like “Malicious Needs” and “The Art Of Emptiness” incorporate grooves and slight structural variance that prevent fatigue over the concise 33-minute runtime. There is no unnecessary filler or indulgence; everything is pushed to the edge of efficiency. "An Insatiable Violence" is compact, violent, rhythmically punishing, and crafted with purpose. It finds Cryptopsy operating with discipline and urgency, reaffirming their place among modern death metal’s most technically ferocious bands.

Score: 8.6

Malevolence | Where Only The Truth Is Spoken | Nuclear Blast Records

 

Malevolence is a band that has built a strong presence in the metalcore and groove thrash scenes, known for their intense sound and powerful live performances. Formed in Sheffield, the group has consistently honed their musical craft, delivering heavy riffs, unrelenting rhythms, and raw emotion in their work. Malevolence's fourth studio album, “Where Only The Truth Is Spoken,” was produced by Josh Wilbur, a Grammy Award-winning producer known for his work with bands like Lamb Of God and Gojira. This album marks a step into a new chapter for the band, with a more refined and expansive approach to both their songwriting and production.

"Where Only The Truth Is Spoken" offers a clear and forceful statement in the realms of melodic metalcore and groove thrash metal. Recorded in California at Studio 606 with producer Josh Wilbur at the helm, this album benefits from a production that brings a sense of weight and clarity to every track. The technical setup—a nod to history with its ties to influential albums from the past—is used here to capture the energetic and direct performance that Malevolence is known for.

The album maintains a focused intensity throughout. Its sound is supported by robust guitars, driving drums, and vocals that carry an earnest and determined spirit. Songs like "If It's All The Same To You" serve as representative examples of this approach, encapsulating the band’s commitment to honest lyrical themes that emphasize loyalty and integrity. The overall mix preserves a balance between aggressive impact and well-defined musical layering, ensuring that each element is audible without overshadowing the others.

By choosing to record outside their home country, the band embraced a new environment and production approach that adds a fresh layer to their familiar sound. This shift was handled with care, resulting in an album that is both true to Malevolence’s roots and indicative of their willingness to explore under different conditions without compromising their identity.

Score: 8.4

Reflection | The Battles I Have Won | Pitch Black Records

 

 Reflection is one of the oldest and most respected names in Greek heavy metal. Formed in the early 1990s and debuting officially with "The Fire Still Burns" in 1999, the band has remained a steadfast presence in the underground, committed to their brand of epic, doom-laden heavy metal. Their music draws from mythology, history, and traditional metal values, influenced by acts like Manowar, Iron Maiden, Omen, and Candlemass, yet with a Mediterranean character unique to their homeland. Founding guitarist Stathis Pavlantis and drummer Giorgos Pavlantis have been the driving force since the beginning, later joined by long-time bassist John Litinakis and, most recently, vocalist Kostas Tokas, who was previously a guest on "Bleed Babylon Bleed." After an eight-year silence, they return with "The Battles I Have Won," released via Pitch Black Records.

"The Battles I Have Won" arrives after nearly a decade of silence and feels like the result of years of introspection, patience, and artistic purpose. The album moves across traditional heavy metal, doom, and epic storytelling without relying on overly complex arrangements or overproduction. It’s straightforward, immersive, and sincerely crafted.

Opening with “Only The Swords Survive,” the album steps into battle with conviction, merging galloping riffs and steady rhythmic weight. The mood remains heavy but never stagnant, balancing grandeur with motion. The title track, “The Battles I Have Won,” carries a sense of struggle and pride without melodrama, with Kostas Tokas’s voice delivering with natural authority—neither exaggerated nor underwhelming. His tone fits the band’s direction without overshadowing it.

“Lord Of The Wind” and “Sirens’ Song” contrast in atmosphere—one charging ahead with soaring melodies, the other winding slowly through more restrained tempos and melodies tinged with melancholy. There’s a consistency to the guitar tone across the album—thick and warm, with enough bite to remain energetic without becoming abrasive. The drums, performed by Giorgos Pavlantis, are grounded and methodical, never overstepping into excess but keeping the flow alive with sharp timing.

Tracks like “Once Again (Crime In The Valley Of Death)” and “Celestial War” continue the lyrical journey through war, fate, and mythical imagery. The band doesn’t try to overcomplicate its themes, instead keeping the lyrics narrative-driven, often personal, without leaning into empty fantasy. The inclusion of orchestration by Kostas Rekleitis adds texture without crowding the mix, supporting rather than leading.

“March Of The Argonauts” and “Lady In The Water” offer a late-album lift—moody and adventurous, capturing both tension and melody. The final track, “City Walls Of Malta—The Great Siege,” is a fitting conclusion, combining solemn passages with more aggressive segments. It does not attempt to be overly climactic, instead staying in line with the tone of the rest of the album—steadfast and deliberate.

The production, handled by Stathis Pavlantis, allows space for each instrument without emphasizing gloss or volume. The sound is layered but never overwhelms. The artwork by Alexandros Vasilopoulos matches the musical themes—heroic, historical, and evocative without theatrics.

"The Battles I Have Won" doesn’t try to be grand for the sake of grandeur. It is honest in tone, heavy in spirit, and grounded in experience. It carries a timeless feel without sounding frozen in the past. Reflection delivers an album that rewards patient listening—unhurried, melodic, and steeped in conviction.

Score: 8.6

Angel Of Damnation | Ethereal Blasphemy | Dying Victims Productions

 

Angel Of Damnation was formed in 2003 in Germany with a clear dedication to epic traditional doom metal. Drawing on the legacies of Candlemass, Saint Vitus, Witchfinder General, and the older shadows of Pentagram and Black Sabbath, their musical approach consistently favored the power of riff over the atmospheric leanings often associated with modern doom. Lyrically, Angel Of Damnation veers toward historical darkness, blasphemy, and anti-religious sentiment, expressed not as provocation but as grim satire.

The lineup has seen several shifts, but for "Ethereal Blasphemy," the third full-length release and their first since 2018, the band presents a seasoned formation: Avenger (guitars, bass, keyboards/aka Daniel Cichos), Doomcult Messiah (vocals/aka Gerrit P. Mutz), Forcas (bass), and Neudi (drums/aka Andreas Neuderth). Each member brings years of experience from the German metal underground, including ties to Nocturnal, Cross Vault, Dawn Of Winter, Sacred Steel, and Manilla Road.

"Ethereal Blasphemy," released by Dying Victims Productions on 20 June 2025, is neither rushed nor experimental. Instead, it follows a focused and deliberate path that aligns with the band’s established character. It carries seven tracks, starting with “Eternal Life In Hell” and ending with “Anal Worship Of The Goatlord,” each delivered with measured heaviness, a deliberate pacing, and a deep-toned melodic thread. The riffs do not rely on overwhelming volume or tempo shifts but rather linger in long, sometimes repetitive passages that slowly build atmosphere.

The production, handled largely by Avenger in his private Somewhere In Nowhere Studio, maintains a sense of rawness without sacrificing clarity. There’s no sense of overproduction or artificial precision. The drums, newly recorded by Neudi, add a looser, more organic presence than in previous albums, giving the material a different texture without diverting from the core sonic intent.

The vocals of Doomcult Messiah remain a defining element: theatrical, resonant, and drenched in traditional doom metal cadence, without straying into self-parody or melodrama. This vocal tone pairs naturally with the lyrical themes, which blend dark sarcasm with mythic overtones and a steady anti-religious current.

The songwriting avoids excess. Each track sits within the framework of traditional doom and relies on solid, memorable progressions rather than complexity. Despite their length, most songs feel controlled and intentional. "Ethereal Blasphemy" is not an album that depends on pace or modern tropes. It is firmly entrenched in the traditions it draws from, executed by veterans who no longer need to prove anything. Its strength lies in consistency, presence, and conviction. This is doom metal made by people who live it, not just perform it.

Score: 7

Chris Caffery | 20 Years Of The Music Man | Metalville Records

 

    Chris Caffery is a veteran guitarist most renowned for his tenure with Savatage and the multi-platinum symphonic ensemble Trans-Siberian Orchestra. Beginning his musical journey in the 1980s, Caffery rose to prominence with Savatage during their progressive era, contributing rhythm and lead guitar to pivotal albums like “Gutter Ballet” and “The Wake Of Magellan.” His collaboration with producer and songwriter Paul O’Neill proved formative, extending into the creation of Trans-Siberian Orchestra, where he served as a central figure both live and in studio releases.

Outside these massive entities, Caffery embarked on a solo path in the early 2000s. His solo discography reveals an introspective and emotionally varied approach, combining aggressive riffing with deeply personal lyrical content. From the socio-political rants of “W.A.R.P.E.D.” to the melancholic introspection of “Pins And Needles,” Caffery’s catalog has grown to encompass multiple full-length releases, EPs, and standalone singles. Over the past two decades, he has collaborated with a wide array of musicians, always steering the musical direction with a focus on honest self-expression.

Chris Caffery’s double-disc retrospective “20 Years Of The Music Man” captures not only his musical identity but also a timeline of personal growth, self-reflection, and cathartic creation. This is not merely a compilation—it’s a portrait of two decades’ worth of evolution, pain, humor, and resilience. The release gathers twenty-one tracks, spread across two CDs, featuring selections from his main solo works, standalone digital singles, a new exclusive track, and previously unreleased material.

The collection opens with “The Jester’s Court,” one of his more recent compositions, which encapsulates his blend of power metal and dark theatricality. Songs like “Music Man” and “Forever We’ll Be” pull directly from the emotive heart of his earlier works, maintaining that balance between biting guitars and wistful, melodic passages. The inclusion of “Do You See What I See Now”, a new song, reveals that Caffery continues to write in a personal, questioning voice, staying true to the tone established since his debut solo efforts.

There is rawness in “S.O.T.S.” and “Pisses Me Off,” capturing the confrontational side of his songwriting, while tracks like “Glitter” and “My Light” lean more toward melancholy and theatrical metal balladry. Throughout both discs, themes of betrayal, longing, and hope are frequent, tied together by his dynamic guitar work, ranging from sharp riffing to classically influenced interludes.

The unreleased tracks (“I Miss You Sometimes,” “Last Time”, and “Then She’s Gone”) offer a glimpse into the more introspective corners of his writing. They are neither drastically different from the rest nor purely archival—they seem deliberately chosen to reflect key emotional stops along his journey. This gives the compilation more weight as a story rather than simply a playlist of fan favorites.

The transitions across the collection are varied, and while not seamless in tone or production due to the timespan of recordings, the juxtaposition of styles creates a broader narrative. It moves from youthful intensity to mature reflection, never losing the unique voice that Caffery has developed outside of his well-known band affiliations.

“20 Years Of The Music Man” isn’t meant to be consumed in one sitting—it’s a career mosaic. For those familiar with Chris Caffery, it provides a meaningful walk through his solo years, with a few surprises and sentimental detours. For newcomers, it might initially appear scattered in terms of pacing or cohesion, but it ultimately offers a sincere view into an artist who never stopped creating music that mirrored his personal highs and lows. It’s not about virtuosity for its own sake or genre conformity. It’s about connection—and even in its most chaotic or abrasive moments, there’s something deeply human in its imperfections.

Score: 7.4

Byzantine | Harbingers | Metal Blade Records

 

    Byzantine, formed in 2000 in Charleston, West Virginia, has long existed on the periphery of the New Wave of American Heavy Metal. While many contemporaries reached wider commercial heights, Byzantine remained a cult force—respected for their precision, creativity, and persistence. Led by Chris Ojeda (vocals/rhythm guitar) and joined by Brian Henderson (lead guitar/vocals), Tony Rohrbough (guitar), Ryan Poslethwait (bass/vocals), and Matt Bowles (drums), the band has built a reputation on refusing to follow mainstream trends, instead forging a personal sound rooted in groove, technicality, and honest aggression.

Their early material—such as "The Fundamental Component" (2004) and "...And They Shall Take Up Serpents" (2005)—carried the DNA of Bay Area thrash, southern crunch, and progressive ambition. After 2007's "Oblivion Beckons", internal disruption forced a temporary disbandment. The reformation yielded self-released albums, most notably "To Release Is To Resolve" (2015), which saw unexpected success for an independent act, charting strongly and reigniting fan interest. Their subsequent release on Metal Blade, "The Cicada Tree" (2017), further expanded their hybrid approach and affirmed their position as genre outsiders with something personal to say.

"Harbingers" arrives as a culmination of what Byzantine has been shaping for over two decades. Clocking in at 45 minutes across nine tracks, the album neither overstays its welcome nor feels rushed. It manages to feel fully realized without being overinflated. Produced by Peter Wichers, the sound has weight, allowing detailed rhythm interplay and layered vocals without losing intensity. The production respects the band's complex identity without turning the mix into sterile compression or reducing the human touch that has always underpinned their music.

Thematically, the album is structured around collapse—both technological and political—as well as the fractured search for peace or meaning in a destabilized world. Tracks like "Floating Chrysanthema," with its narrative of AI ascendancy, and "The Unobtainable Sleep," with its poetic lament on the nature of finality, suggest a mature lyrical direction that avoids broad generalizations in favor of emotionally grounded, specific visions.

Vocally, Chris Ojeda sounds seasoned but vital. His range isn’t theatrical, but it’s focused and forceful. Harmony vocals by Brian Henderson provide moments of contrast without falling into overused melodic tropes. There’s a restraint in the way Byzantine applies melody—enough to give dimension, never enough to dilute the core aggression.

Guitar work throughout is precise yet organic. The interplay between Ojeda, Henderson, and returning member Tony Rohrbough offers a multi-angled approach to riff construction. Changes in rhythm and tempo are natural and fluid, never abrupt for the sake of disorientation. The guest solos by Andrey Gadzhibalaev and Rohrbough are expressive without descending into indulgence, reinforcing rather than distracting from the musical direction.

The rhythm section—Ryan Poslethwait and Matt Bowles—locks in tightly but avoids mechanical repetition. Bowles’ drumming supports the dynamic shifts with sharp precision, especially when navigating complex meters or slower dirge-like passages. The bass tone, often overlooked in this style, is present and textured, lending an extra layer of weight.

The album’s title track, "Harbinger," articulates social critique without veering into didacticism. Its vocal layering and instrumental interplay express frustration not through outrage but through tension and structural escalation. It typifies the album’s broader attitude: not explosive, but corrosive—slowly, steadily wearing down the listener’s sense of predictability.

"Harbingers" doesn’t seek to appeal to trends or posture for broader visibility. It reflects a seasoned band finally comfortable with its identity, reconnected with one of its original architects, and determined to create music that speaks honestly within their framework. The result is an album that feels solid, thoughtfully executed, and long overdue for recognition beyond its underground following.

Score: 8

Hexvessel | Nocturne | Prophecy Productions

 

 Hexvessel is the brainchild of English musician Mat McNerney, known for his work in Code, Dødheimsgard, Beastmilk, and Grave Pleasures. Founded in Finland in 2009 following his relocation, Hexvessel has continually evolved, moving through phases of folk, rock, and experimental blackened psychedelia. While the band is anchored in Tampere, their sound wanders far beyond physical geography. Rooted in organic instrumentation and esoteric atmospheres, they inhabit a space that is both inward and distant, spiritual and hallucinatory.

"Nocturne" is Hexvessel’s seventh full-length offering, and it arrives as a fully realized extension of the commissioned "Music For Gloaming" work debuted at Roadburn Festival 2024. The album draws together strands from across their wide-reaching catalog into a somber and immersive sonic tapestry. The tonal palette favors grayscale textures—windswept acoustics, faint analog synths, and distant piano motifs—presented with restraint and patience. The production, handled by Jaime Gomez Arellano, avoids gloss or aggression in favor of clarity, giving the space needed for shadow and resonance to unfold.

The material on "Nocturne" flows like a single, meditative piece rather than ten segmented songs. Acoustic guitars shimmer faintly across minimal rhythmic pulses, while keys and choral harmonies drift like slow-form fog. There are undercurrents of melancholic grandeur in “Sapphire Zephyrs” and “Inward Landscapes,” as well as hypnotic dissonance in “Spirit Masked Wolf” and “Mother Destroyer.”

Vocals by Mat McNerney remain central, contemplative, and fluid—at times drifting into chant-like ritual and at others reaching for melodic archways that resemble art-rock crooning or even subdued black metal invocation. His voice is joined in key moments by collaborators such as Saara Nevalainen, adding ghostly harmony, and Yusaf Vicotnik Parvez, whose sharp timbre in “Unworld” brings a cold angular contrast. The closing “Phoebus” ends the album not with resolution, but with dispersal—an act of evaporating into a lingering twilight.

There is a sense of distance between the listener and the songs, not as an emotional barrier but as an intentional veiling. The instrumentation moves in and out of audibility, as if mimicking the movements of thought during late-night solitude. Hexvessel offers not a narrative or statement, but a ritual atmosphere—one that evokes late-autumn forests, frost-lit villages, and the psychic silence of being alone under stars.

This is not an album of climaxes. Rather, it is a constant state of dusk, guided more by intuition than structure. The listening experience gains through full immersion, ideally uninterrupted. The appearance of black metal is subtle but essential—glimpsed in certain vocal cadences, tremolo undercurrents, and emotional austerity, but never overtly foregrounded.

Score: 7.8

Sigh | I Saw The World's End - Hangman's Hymn MMXXV | Peaceville Records

 Formed in 1989 in Tokyo, Sigh began as a raw black metal outfit under the early patronage of Euronymous from Mayhem, who released their debut EP, “Requiem For Fools,” through Deathlike Silence Productions. But what followed was a decades-spanning metamorphosis unlike any other. Led by multi-instrumentalist and composer Mirai Kawashima, the band evolved into a boundaryless force combining elements of classical, jazz, psychedelia, thrash, progressive rock, doom, and everything in between. Throughout a vast and eclectic discography, from the early aggression of “Scorn Defeat” to the kaleidoscopic vision of “Imaginary Sonicscape”, Sigh carved a path of their own design, respected across the extreme metal spectrum for their defiance of genre conventions and fearless experimentation.

To commemorate 35 years of existence, Sigh have returned to reimagine their 2007 conceptual opus, "Hangman’s Hymn." The result, "I Saw The World’s End – Hangman’s Hymn MMXXV," is not a nostalgic indulgence but a substantial overhaul that reshapes the entire experience with new performances, arrangements, and production. It is not a mirror of the original but a complete reinterpretation guided by hindsight, instinct, and technical precision.

The core compositions remain, but the differences are immediate and extensive. With Mike Heller now providing the drumming, the percussion has moved from functional to intense, dynamic, and often astonishing. The original's synthesized orchestral layers have been replaced by rich, full-bodied instrumentation that supports and deepens the compositions. These changes bring significant weight to what was already one of the band’s more complex and classically inspired works.

The integration of choral flourishes, string sections, and brass in "Introitus / Kyrie" and beyond is neither decorative nor forced. These elements are fully embedded into the structures, entwined with the aggressive black/thrash backbone to produce something sprawling and cinematic. The transitions between movements are smooth yet unpredictable, and the album never feels constrained by linear song structures or rhythmic consistency.

Mirai’s vocals have improved considerably—controlled, theatrical, and more varied in tone. His performance now matches the ambition of the compositions around him. Guttural chants, ritualistic howls, and operatic declamations flow through movements such as "The Master Malice" and "Rex Tremendae/I Saw The World’s End" without ever becoming ornamental or detached. Everything serves a dramatic arc, and the sequencing has been handled with care.

The dense arrangements present in "Dies Irae," "In Devil’s Arms," and "Salvation In Flame/Confutatis" resist passive listening. These are layered pieces filled with brass punches, swirling synths, tremolo guitars, and sudden rhythmic shifts. Yet the chaos is never arbitrary. Even the wildest moments maintain a strange cohesion—frenzied, yes, but never disoriented. There is an undercurrent of classical discipline beneath the intensity, drawing from liturgical and Romantic-era traditions as much as from the underground roots of black and death metal.

The final suite, "Finale: Hangman’s Hymn/In Paradisum/Das Ende," is a towering conclusion. Its progression from grotesque, blackened violence into solemn requiem echoes the original concept but elevates it with maturity and intensity. Where the 2007 version hinted at grandeur, this version achieves it outright.

This is not a nostalgic reissue but a fully realized vision that perhaps could not have existed in 2007 due to technical limitations or perspective. It captures Sigh’s ethos in full: to embrace chaos without becoming incoherent, to combine genres without losing identity, and to reinterpret without abandoning the past.

Score: 8.6

Deathgoat | Dragged Into Realms Below | Xtreem Music

 

 Deathgoat formed in Finland and first emerged from the depths of northern obscurity with their debut, "Regurgitated Into Existence", establishing themselves among the new breed of European death metal bands dedicated to a visceral, riff-heavy sound. Eschewing modern sheen for a decay-ridden atmosphere, Deathgoat embraces a style rooted in late ‘80s and early ‘90s Scandinavian extremity. Their music is built around dense riff structures, cavernous vocals, and a rhythmic foundation that leans into chaos without abandoning structure. The band’s lineup—Putrid Worm (vocals), Vicar Miggoat and Nihilist (guitars), L.F. Molestor (bass), and Chope666 (drums)—carries a moniker-driven menace that mirrors their thematic content: decomposition, damnation, and the reanimation of death metal’s corpse.

On “Dragged Into Realms Below,” Deathgoat descends deeper into the void they first unearthed in 2021. With nine tracks that pass like funeral dirges soaked in napalm, the album offers a cohesive and unrelenting slab of classic death metal that maintains momentum without relying on speed or dissonance as a crutch. The opening instrumental “Alkulima” is a brief but effective passage, establishing a dread-choked atmosphere before the sonic assault begins. From there, each song unfolds with intent: riff-driven constructions loaded with rhythmic variation and a certain necrotic groove that recalls the earliest Swedish masters without being derivative.

The production is thick and engulfing, placing emphasis on the guitar tone, which is charred, crusted, and suitably oppressive. Putrid Worm’s vocals are not layered for theatrical effect but remain dry and forceful, delivered in a single, smoldering cadence that remains consistent across the record’s length. The percussion of Chope666 is relentless yet controlled—built less around blastbeat excess and more on tribal, tom-heavy propulsion and staggered fills, matching the rotting aesthetic of the compositions.

“Pestilent Retribution” and “Congregation Of Disease” drive home the band’s preference for mid-paced punishment, while pieces like “Dying To Be Dead” introduce sharper, more frantic tempo shifts, all bound by an unrepentant dedication to riffs. The melodic leads scattered throughout—especially on tracks like “Compulsive Cannibalism”—do not aim to offer relief or grandeur; instead, they resemble tortured chants echoing from cryptic depths.

The closer, “Dragged Into Realms Below,” acts more as a descent than a finale. It burrows rather than explodes, ending the album not with resolution but collapse. The album feels like an excavation through layers of rot and stone, never seeking light but pressing further downward into darkness.

Deathgoat does not present “Dragged Into Realms Below” as anything other than what it is: a death metal album formed of bone, ash, and grave soil. It speaks in a language understood only by those drawn to the ancient pull of destruction and decay. There are no detours, no cleansed passages, no narrative arcs—just burial hymns composed in fire and bile.

Score: 8

Volbeat | God Of Angels Trust | Republic/Universal Records

 

 Volbeat, formed in Copenhagen in 2001, has carved a unique space within heavy metal by blending hard rock, rockabilly, and groove-oriented elements with sharp riffs and melodic sensibility. Fronted by Michael Poulsen, whose distinctive vocal tone has become a staple of the band’s sound, Volbeat solidified their position internationally with albums like “Outlaw Gentlemen & Shady Ladies” and “Seal The Deal & Let’s Boogie.” Drummer Jon Larsen and bassist Kaspar Boye Larsen round out the current lineup. Over the past two decades, the band has steadily built a reputation for consistency in chart presence, energetic live shows, and their ability to bridge heavy rock with broader rock ‘n’ roll influences.

Released on June 6, 2025, via Republic/Universal Records, “God Of Angels Trust” marks Volbeat’s ninth studio album and reflects a direct, fast-paced recording process. Completed within five weeks, the album carries the urgency and immediacy of spontaneous creativity, steering into darker, more atmospheric territory than their recent outputs, yet keeping the melodic groundwork familiar to long-time listeners.

The opener “Devils Are Awake” signals a departure from the arena-ready optimism found in previous albums. There’s a grim undercurrent running through much of the material, yet Poulsen’s voice remains central and clear, cutting through layered guitar sections with a steady hand. Tracks such as “By A Monster’s Hand” and “Acid Rain” echo a more distressed tone, dipping into themes of isolation and inner chaos, paired with stripped-down instrumentation and denser, slower riffs.

“Demonic Depression” deepens this mood with a minimalistic and brooding structure, allowing for a sparser arrangement that benefits the track’s mood. The lead-extended composition “In The Barn Of The Goat Giving Birth To Satan's Spawn In A Dying World Of Doom” offers a surreal blend of horror-themed lyrics and slow-burning progression that steps into doom metal aesthetics without fully embracing them.

On the second half of the album, the band balances this shadowed mood with momentum-driven tracks like “Better Be Fuelled Than Tamed” and “At The End Of The Sirens.” These songs incorporate faster tempos and chug-heavy rhythms, drawing closer to earlier Volbeat styles without replicating them. The melodic hooks persist, albeit less pronounced.

“Lonely Fields” takes a quieter, almost ballad-like direction but avoids sentimentality through its barren tone and stark vocal treatment. The album closes with “Enlighten The Disorder (By A Monster’s Hand Part 2),” a thematically linked reprise that draws the mood back toward the cryptic energy of the earlier tracks, giving the album a circular feel.

There’s a consistent unease throughout the album, matched with a less ornamented production approach. Guitars feel thicker but less processed, drums more distant but natural, and Poulsen’s voice remains a constant anchor. The concise writing period contributes to a unified atmosphere—tense, uncertain, and nocturnal.

“God Of Angels Trust” does not offer sudden shifts or theatrical climaxes but instead remains grounded in a somber, twilight-toned mood that reveals its shape gradually. It may not expand Volbeat’s range, but it redirects their sound inward, toward a more minimal, brooding place.

Score: 7.3

Gruesome | Silent Echoes | Relapse Records

 

 Gruesome formed in 2014 as a passionate tribute to the pioneering death metal legacy of Chuck Schuldiner and Death. Originally conceived as a short-term project, the band quickly gained traction due to the caliber of its members and the authenticity of its approach. Frontman and guitarist Matt Harvey (Exhumed, Dekapitator) teamed up with drummer Gus Rios (Malevolent Creation), guitarist Daniel Gonzalez (Possessed), and bassist Robin Mazen (Derketa). Together, they revived the sonic spirit of early ‘90s death metal with a sequence of albums that paid homage to specific eras of Death’s discography. Starting with “Savage Land” (2015) in the vein of “Leprosy” and following with “Twisted Prayers” (2018) reflecting “Spiritual Healing”, Gruesome earned respect not only as stylists but as custodians of a sound that defined a movement.

Over the years, Gruesome evolved from loving imitation to a deeper, more personal engagement with the genre’s roots. Their work matured alongside them as musicians—especially under the shadow of mortality and tribute following the passing of Sean Reinert, whose presence deeply informs their latest chapter.

“Silent Echoes” arrives as the most complex and emotionally weighted release from Gruesome to date. Rather than circling familiar territory, the band expands their scope to mirror the intricate territory explored by Death in their 1991 milestone “Human.” This isn’t merely an aesthetic shift but a compositional leap. The material here trades brute force for labyrinthine construction, where timing changes, tempo pivots, and syncopated interplay blur the lines between aggression and contemplation.

The drums from Gus Rios anchor this transformation. With Sean Reinert’s memory acting as both inspiration and spiritual compass, the percussive arrangements take on a life of their own—fluid, meticulous, and expressive. They don’t lead with brutality but with structure, framing the songs’ internal logic.

Matt Harvey’s vocal delivery remains firmly rooted in tradition, but it’s his and Daniel Gonzalez’s guitar work that defines the formation of the album. The riffs are angular, often hesitant before unfurling into more serpentine passages. Gonzalez’s leads inject a vital melodic element—melancholic, expressive, and often mournful—without ever veering into sentimentality.

The title track, “Silent Echoes,” provides an abstract pulse at the album’s center. Not necessarily the most aggressive moment, but one that internalizes the album’s themes of memory, reflection, and tribute. Elsewhere, pieces like “Voice Within The Void” and “Frailty” exhibit restraint within complexity, allowing the space between notes to speak as much as the violence they contain.

Bass duties were handled in-studio by Daniel Gonzalez, adding cohesion to the stringwork. The mix by Jarrett Pritchard gives clarity to the intricacy, with every instrument holding its own without dominating. It's dry and honest, allowing the music’s structure to speak rather than overwhelming it with post-production muscle.

This album does not reach backward, nor does it project forward. Instead, it exists in a suspended space—neither purely homage nor completely progressive—just focused, grounded death metal, thoughtfully arranged and imbued with gravity by the loss that inspired it.

“Silent Echoes” is not immediate. It resists expectation. It requires patience, especially from those who came to Gruesome for their more direct early work. But it rewards repeat listening by gradually revealing its intent: to translate reverence into personal expression without compromising on intensity.

Score: 8.9

Katatonia | Nightmares As Extensions Of The Waking State | Napalm Records

 

 Formed in Stockholm in 1991 by Jonas Renkse and Anders Nyström, Katatonia has undergone a gradual transformation from their early death-doom origins into one of Scandinavia’s most influential purveyors of melancholic and atmospheric rock. With a discography spanning over three decades, the band has become known for their introspective lyrics, layered arrangements, and a sonic palette that constantly evolves while retaining its emotional core. Over the years, Katatonia has consistently embraced changes in lineup and tone, from the haunting heaviness of “Brave Murder Day” to the refined gloom of “The Great Cold Distance” and into the textured alternative realms explored on albums like “The Fall Of Hearts” and “City Burials.” Following 2023’s “Sky Void Of Stars”, the band returns with their fourteenth studio album, “Nightmares As Extensions Of The Waking State,” continuing their exploration of atmospheric weight and existential introspection.

“Nightmares As Extensions Of The Waking State” presents Katatonia at a point of balance between evolution and continuity. The album is steeped in an ambiance that feels both intimate and distant, like a memory receding behind a cold sunrise. The production, helmed by Jonas Renkse, allows space for every instrumental element to breathe, avoiding unnecessary density while retaining emotional gravity.

The guitar work of Nico Elgstrand and Sebastian Svalland shifts with fluid grace between layered melancholia and sharpened tonal accents. Their interplay maintains a steady pulse without dominating, allowing textures to rise rather than erupt. Niklas Sandin's bass and Daniel Moilanen's drumming create an understated rhythmic presence that supports rather than propels, opting for a patient cadence. Subtle electronic elements and ambient tones are integrated seamlessly throughout, adding contour rather than contrast.

“Thrice” opens with a tempered urgency, shaped by measured tempo and moody riffing, setting the emotional atmosphere early. “The Liquid Eye” and “Warden” introduce denser sections while avoiding overstatement, favoring gradual dynamic shifts. “Lilac” leans into a more progressive mold, where repetition builds into resonance. The track “Temporal” unfolds around a recurring theme of emotional restraint, with a chorus that opens without reaching melodrama.

“Efter Solen” stands apart as the most subdued and minimal moment, sung in Swedish, and it evokes a calm desolation that fits the album's broader tone. The closing piece, “In The Event Of,” reinforces a sense of circularity, rather than resolution, echoing fragments of melodies heard before.

The inclusion of a KISS cover, “A World Without Heroes,” is handled without sentimentality. It’s stripped down and recast in the band’s own sonic identity, more of a mirage than a tribute. The remix of “Wind Of No Change” by Karin Park adds a slight curve, though its synthetic framework feels deliberately detached, functioning more as a reflection than a reimagining.

This album does not gesture outward. It remains internal, built upon mood, texture, and silence as much as it is on melody or composition. There is no moment designed to dazzle, and none that seeks to comfort. Instead, “Nightmares As Extensions Of The Waking State” feels like a grey corridor slowly folding in on itself—not closed, not open, just infinitely suspended.

Score: 7

Gaahls Wyrd | Braiding The Stories | Season Of Mist

 

Gaahls Wyrd emerged in the wake of frontman Gaahl's departure from God Seed, bringing together his vision under a banner both tethered to black metal tradition and restlessly experimental. Formed in Norway in 2015, the band’s nucleus comprises Gaahl (vocals), Lust Kilman (guitar), Spektre (drums), and Nekroman (bass), all veterans of Norway’s diverse extreme music ecosystem. Their 2019 debut, "GastiR – Ghosts Invited," introduced their penchant for slow-burning ritualism, while the 2021 mini-album "The Humming Mountain" expanded on that with atmospheric breadth. Over time, Gaahls Wyrd have distanced themselves from genre conventions, presenting a spectral world that fuses elements of metal, ambient, gothic rock, and introspective songwriting into a deeply personal tapestry of sound and concept.

"Braiding The Stories" is the band’s most abstract and enveloping work to date. From the first flicker of "The Dream" to the twilight drift of "Flowing Starlight", Gaahls Wyrd shapes a meditative sonic landscape where form often dissolves into mood and voice becomes less a delivery system for lyrics than an instrument of presence and atmosphere.

There is a fluidity throughout the album that leans into a dream logic, as mentioned by Gaahl himself. Tracks do not explode or resolve as much as they evolve in subtle undulations, rising and falling like currents in a metaphysical tide. The instrumentation—guided by Lust Kilman—avoids overstatement. Guitars shimmer, pulse, and spiral with a distinctly ‘80s/‘90s gothic rock influence but never stay long enough in any one place to pin them down. His solos drift like memory fragments, sometimes untethered and at other times woven directly into the emotional architecture of the song.

Spektre and Nekroman offer support that feels deeply embedded in the album’s core energy, more concerned with sustaining emotional and rhythmic tension than asserting heaviness or aggression. The presence of interludes ("Voices In My Head," "Through The Veil") further blurs the lines between traditional track sequencing and cinematic movement.

Gaahl, ever the enigmatic figure, exercises remarkable vocal control throughout the album. He employs his range in service of the atmosphere rather than assertion—crooning, speaking, whispering, and chanting—allowing the lyrics to dissolve into the instrumentation or cut through it with deliberate, haunting phrasing. His approach feels less like performance and more like invocation. The lyrical content, shaped around subconscious states and dream transition, plays perfectly into this.

The production, overseen again by Iver Sandøy, is immersive. The choices made in mix and dynamics create a breathing sonic environment where silence is just as vital as sound. The spaces between notes and rhythms carry as much emotional weight as the climaxes. Rather than aiming for immediacy or force, the mix invites prolonged listening. The album's flow is uninterrupted, its sequence constructed not for individual song impact, but for total, uninterrupted immersion.

"Braiding The Stories" moves away from the tactile aggression of black metal and instead gestures toward an inward, spectral terrain. It is neither bound by tradition nor obsessed with disavowing it—it simply refuses categorization altogether. It is quiet yet expansive, solemn yet luminous. Rather than dramatizing emotion, it reflects it.

Score: 8.2