Granted, the concept of an album where each song tells a story about a distinctive demonic entity with its own unique “physical traits” and “specific weapon” is extremely silly, yet Killerdemons proves to be a catchy and cool affair. Borrower claim Motörhead, Judas Priest, and Dio as their main influences, and they write spare, riff-tastic tunes in their honor. The guitars carry much more heft than their influences, however, with enough reverb to take tunes dangerously close to stoner territory a lá High on Fire and Black Sabbath. This marriage between speed and stoner proves effective. “El Degollador” oscillates between lightning-fast, “Ace of Spades”-inspired riffs and slower, “War Pigs”-style stoner riffs in a performance that’s sure to give you whiplash. Taking a cue from AC/DC, Borrower keeps their song structures simple yet catchy. The rollicking “Stay Alive” best demonstrates this virtue with crisp songwriting and energetic pacing. Each track has distinctive riffs that are far more powerful than the demons it conjures.

In the eight years since their 2018 EP, A Plague Chapter…, Borrower has vastly improved their sound and instrumental prowess. The two Matteos have played a major role in this transformation. Marini’s fuzzy guitar tone adds heft where the EP’s guitars sounded tinny. His blending of Motörhead-style riffcrafting with the density of High on Fire and Mastodon adds an extra oomph to tracks like “Der Todessoldat” and “Tough Fight.” Marzo’s bass takes a commanding presence as well. He adds depth and backbone to the music, making his presence especially felt on the slower moments of “Knocking on the Coffins.” Formoso takes a restrained approach behind the kit, occasionally blasting the cymbals (“Dream on Fire”), but mostly setting the pace with an effective simplicity. The wild card of the group is vocalist Ratano. He seemingly channels Lemmy, Arnold Schwarzenegger, and Fozzie Bear in a truly strange, yet somehow endearing performance. His Italian accent, which drags out the words “kee-ler dee-mons” during the chorus of “Killerdemons,” adds a level of camp that contributes to the goofy fun.

While Borrower keeps Killerdemons to a concise 36 minutes, the record does falter on the two songs that stray from the 3-4 minute range. The first, “Knocking on the Coffins,” has some memorable riffs, including a cool, old school solo, but at over five minutes, it drags on a bit too long. Positioned between the album’s two best tracks, it also proves to be a major momentum killer. The biggest sore thumb, however, is the six-plus minute finale, “A Chaos Vortex.” Not only does it lack memorable riffs, but it falters in its final two minutes as the band sorely misjudges when to best wrap it up. Trimming 2-3 minutes from each of these songs would have immensely improved the album’s otherwise incredible pacing.

As I established last month, metal tends to invite some weird characters, and the killer demon universe created here is certainly an odd one. But that’s also what makes metal so much fun. Bands feel free to try out their off-the-wall ideas, from literary– or video game-inspired themes to the creation of fantasy or sci-fi realms. And sometimes these ideas actually work. Borrower finally sees through their vision, or at least the start of it, and presents it in such a catchy, cool way. I love to see original ideas performed with such care and passion, and I hope these guys continue to cultivate their ideas and musical talents.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Argonauta Records
Website: Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Site
Releases Worldwide: February 13th, 2026

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The Beauty of Obliteration demonstrates some mighty fine riff-smithing. This may be because Sleeping Giant—expanding upon the maxim that ‘two heads are better than one’—is working with three heads. The guitar Cerberus of Finnbogi Jökull, Árni Björn Björnsson, and Guðmundur Eiríksson wield an arsenal of doomy dirges (“Conqueror”), stonery shuffles (“Abysmal Flame”), and thrashy assaults (“Venom Ripper, Gorgon Blaster”). Some of these riffs even go straight to the source, boasting a Sabbathy swagger (“The Monk”). Early Mastodon certainly resonates throughout, but the guitarwork makes it clear that these Icelanders also get High on Fire. Indeed, the recurring shifts between stoner-doom and thrash, coupled with the beefy guitar tones, summon the presence of latter-day Matt Pike. But Sleeping Giant aren’t just their three-headed guitar monster; drummer Ásmundur Jóhannsson and bassist Einar Darri Einarsson hold down the low end. Einarsson in particular shines, tastefully filling up negative space with bluesy runs (“Conqueror”).

Rounding out Sleeping Giant’s lineup is vocalist Oddur Freyr Þorsteinsson, who gives The Beauty of Obliteration a death metal edge. Thusly calling the band death-doom, though, wouldn’t be accurate—’necrotic stoner-doom’ is my best attempt at describing the band’s layering of an extreme aesthetic over a mostly traditional riffing style. Þorsteinsson possesses a powerful guttural, reminding me of the low registers of Travis Ryan and Randy Blythe. He even dips into some slimy gurgling on “The Monk” as it shifts into a faster, more melodic gear. Though these gurgles provide contrast, it’s a contrast that doesn’t necessarily add to or accentuate the part. This gurgling is a microcosm of how I feel about the vocals on The Beauty of Obliteration as a whole. They are performed well and don’t overtly clash with the instrumentation, and yet I’m not sure if they are doing anything other than marking Sleeping Giant as ‘extreme.’

As a unit, Sleeping Giant have molded a debut that roves between riff styles, for better or worse. “Conqueror” and “Mobilizer of Evil” map out the terrain the rest of the album explores, showing a band comfortable with both low and high BPMs. “The Monk” gets closest to the kind of unhinged glory of early Mastodon, though its shift from doom to thrash feels a bit redundant, even at this early juncture in the album. The biggest curveball on The Beauty of Obliteration is its penultimate track, “Venom Rippers, Gorgon Blaster.” A thrash ripper under three minutes, it’s an enlivening change of pace from tracks that otherwise hover between four and nine minutes. It’s also an effective transition between the orgiastic riff-fest of “Slay the King of Hell” (my favorite track) and the closer. “Abysmal Flame” starts strong with a chunky monkey that morphs into an almost melodeath-style earworm. The sparse, feedbacky ending, however, is an underwhelming sendoff.

Their namesake may create unrealistic expectations, but Sleeping Giant has delivered the goods with their long-awaited debut. At 6 tracks in 35 minutes, The Beauty of Obliteration is a tight, well-produced package with tons of hummable riffs. Though the songwriting is by no means bad, the riffs themselves feel more noteworthy than the songs they populate. The gutturals give Sleeping Giant a different vibe than typical stoner-doom, but I hope that future outings see the vocals actively serving the songs more. If you dig giant riffs, you won’t want to sleep on these Icelanders.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: V4 OR ~316 kb/s VBR mp3
Label: Octopus Rising (sub-label of Argonauta Records)
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: February 6th, 2026

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Skogskult studied their forebears closely, as anyone who blindly tangles with Skogskult won’t need long to guess its genre. Many moments are saturated with indica atmospherics thick enough to induce contact highs. Hypnotic plods (“Lyktans Låga”), mid-paced gallops (“Pakten”), and the occasional stirring solo (“Snöblind”) furnish an assortment of backdrops and give individual songs enough character to prevent them from blurring together despite the pervasive gloomy fuzz. Cutting through said fuzz is vocalist Simon Rosengrim, who pierces the dense haze with tempestuous conviction, antithetical to the indolent trappings of stereotypical stoner doom. All told, Skogskult begets a familiar soundscape even casual fans of the genre will at once recognize, molding a unique personality alongside influences and reference points.

Skogskult’s merger of buzzing heft and raw emotion concocts powerful moments across their debut. Opening duo “Lyktans Låga” and “Turs” conform to genre conventions, grooving with ponderous mass as Samuel Nordström and Albin Kroon lumber along on guitar and bass. In fact, most of Skogskult is blanketed in wool, though “Sol” acts as a crucial change-of-pace, offering reverb-drenched strums and echoey vox that recall Sabbath’s “Planet Caravan.” Central tracks “Jag Ger Mig Av” and “Pakten” embolden Skogskult with lively frills, such as the stark baritone vocals midway through the former and the catchy-as-hell 90s post-grunge lilt of the latter. Pulling away from direct inspirations allows Skogskult to forge an identity all their own. In a genre where bands closely adhere to stoner doom’s core sound, it’s not a coincidence that Skogskult’s best moments occur when the album extends past them. In particular, Rosengrim’s performance electrifies when grit and pathos dial to eleven. His singing forgoes the comparatively mellow rhythms and measured deliveries associated with Sleep, Dopelord, and others, instead penetrating stoner doom’s miasma with immediate and undeniable passion. While this ingredient sets Skogskult apart from other outfits, it’s not quite enough to overcome Skogskult’s deficiencies.

Though many of Skogskult’s songwriting tendrils take root, some flounder for purchase. The juxtaposition of urgent vocals and hypnotizing grooves spellbind in a broad sense, but focusing just on the instrumentation reveals a lack of consistency over the entire album. Though flush with talent, Skogskult’s penchant for repeating riffs too often over six to seven minutes erodes some of its charm, which is further exacerbated over repeated listens. Bluesy solos and accelerated tempos afford welcome breaks, but more variety through the refrains would invigorate Skogskult’s musical backbone; without more riff diversity, shrinking song lengths could help remedy the repetition. Still, Skogskult boasts plenty of successes, as well. The production is a triumph, with each instrument (and vocals) afforded ample space in the mix. The only understated element is drummer Alexander Söderlund, who supports the band ably within a restrained pocket. Also, Skogskult deftly constructs tension throughout entire songs. Even if each track could lose thirty to sixty seconds, every payoff satisfies through unhurried climaxes and hints at a higher ceiling for the band’s songcraft.

Skogskult is a young band brimming with potential. They guide listeners through the murky fog of stoner doom that cloaks the forest they inhabit, shining a light on the path while allowing listeners to glimpse the dangers just off of it. Skogskult isn’t perfect, but Skogskult impresses with accessible retrofuzz, standout highlights, and a powerhouse vocalist. If they can refine the songwriting approach for their sophomore album while preserving what makes this one special, our next trip through the cult’s forest might just convert us.

Rating: Good
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Bonebag Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: December 5th, 2025

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Pale Horse Ritual offers a bit more than straight Sabbath worship. While Diabolic Formation primarily deals in stoner/doom metal, much of its instrumentation hearkens to 70s psychedelic rock. Lead guitarist James Matheson, for example, lays down some total psych freakout solos (“Deflowered,” “Bloody Demon”). Spooky organ chords also contribute to the album’s vintage atmosphere (“D.E.D,” “A Beautiful End”). Together, these elements evoke Iron Butterfly and other such proto-metal acts. Nevertheless, Pale Horse Ritual ground their sound in pure Iommian goodness. Instrumental opener “Deflowered” announces Diabolic Formation’s riff-forward orientation, built around modulations of a simple yet satisfying flat-2 line. The descending chromatic figure of closer “A Beautiful End” is an album highlight, dragging listeners down to a warm, fuzzy hell. Similar to a contemporary band like Monolord, Pale Horse Ritual unabashedly revels in the undeniable power of a familiar riff.

Alas, Diabolic Formation feels familiar to the point where one-to-one comparisons can frequently be made. “Wickedness,” the first real ‘song’ on the album, provides the earliest instance of Sabbath aping. Its verse riff and accompanying vocal melody exactly replicate the first half of the “Iron Man” hook. The lyrics are also imitative; though not a direct lift, the narrator imploring his audience to ‘Call [him] Lucifer’ echoes “N.I.B.” Less overtly mimetic is “Bloody Demon.” Its main riff brings “Electric Funeral” to mind, and lyrics about the ‘prince of darkness’ and watchful ‘snake eyes’ summon Ozzy and Lemmy. Beyond Sabbath, Pale Horse Ritual comes close to sampling Iron Butterfly in “D.E.D.,” which recalls the iconic “In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida” phrase. Unfortunately, Diabolic Formation invites listeners to hunt for references.

Pale Horse Ritual do break from their Sabbathy mould in intriguing ways. Vocalist/bassist Paco is not Ozzy; he possesses more of a chill, mid-range croon. Paco effortlessly delivers catchy choruses, heightened by harmonies from rhythm guitarist Will Adams (“Wickedness,” “D.E.D.”). But he very much is Geezer; Paco’s fills and wah-wah stomps naturally play off Jonah Santa-Barbara’s drumming, putting these grooves into the Butler-Ward pocket (“Deflowered,” “Wickedness”). The biggest curveball on Diabolic Formation, however, is “Save You,” the mid-album acoustic break. Its delicate fingerpicking, ghostly whispers, and dreamy synths conjure a surprising artist from the 70s: Nick Drake. The on-the-nose, anti-religion lyrics draw attention away from the suppleness of Paco’s voice and Adams’s guitarwork. Nevertheless, it’s a beautiful track showcasing a side of their sound I wish Pale Horse Ritual explored further.

Diabolic Formation flourishes and flounders due to its familiarity. Even in a subgenre rooted in remembrance, there are too many direct echoes of Sabbath, Iron Butterfly, and the like here. Listeners might feel paranoid that every riff and chorus is plagiarized. And yet, Diabolic Formation is a good sounding record, with cozy tones and comforting atmosphere. If 2025 left you reeling from the loss of Ozzy, then Diabolic Formation is worth 39 minutes of your time. As a new purveyor of an old sound, Pale Horse Ritual can help you adjust to a new normal.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Black Throne Productions
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: November 28th, 2025

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It becomes immediately apparent that Blizaro takes heavy influence from the ‘70s and ‘80s. After a short melodramatic intro sets the stage, the Candlemassive and Troublesome hammer of doom descends. John Gallo’s wonderful guitar tone and playing style echo as much old Sabbath and ‘70s Judas Priest (“Internal Chasm”) as it does traditional doom, and the part-NWoBHM lead guitars (“Glare of Light and Desolation”) bring light and energy into the formula. The gloomy but heavy sound is complemented by Gallo’s eerie and dramatic vocals. His Ozzy-coded, blue-collar delivery fits the mold well, and good usage of layers adds extra oomph to an already good performance. But Light and Desolation isn’t just about the metal world. Horror-themed suspense and Tangerine Dream-touched synthesizers (“Sentenced Pathways”) color much of the album’s material both on the foreground and in the background. These individual elements already sound good on their lonesome but create spectacular hooks and crescendos when working in unison (“Silver Tower,” “Lightning Strikes Back”).

Crucially, Blizaro’s songwriting is both authentic and fresh, combining many old inspirations into newer ideas. Imitation is flattery, but it can only take you so far without understanding how your influences formed their sound in the first place. And throughout Light and Desolation, Gallo showcases a wealth of knowledge in not only his influences but also their various heroes and followers. Whether it’s the Iron Maiden pyrotechnics at the start of “Internal Chasm” or the ‘70s prog rock bounce of “Lucifer’s Lament,” Light and Desolation keeps throwing new curveballs to switch up its songwriting mojo. Not all of it is created equal, as some of the transitions in the aforementioned feel jarring, but most of the resulting breadth ends up a net positive. This wouldn’t be half the album it is without its cinematic atmosphere tying it all together. Sword-swinging closer “Warriors of the New Lands” is a culmination of Blizaro’s heavy metal, horror atmosphere, and space synth tendencies alike. It’s not just a throwback sound—it’s a unique blend of them.

On top of Light and Desolation being written like a lost relic, it also sounds the part. The mix allows all instruments room to shine and breathe, the crashing of cymbals in particular being a pleasure to listen to. The fuzzy production makes for a surprisingly warm album despite its cold and desolate demeanor, proving once again that heaviness does not require overcompression.⁴ Some of it might even sound a bit too ancient for my tastes, and it certainly took some getting used to. The vocals aren’t perfect either, occasionally stumbling during the latter half of the album. But what Blizaro sometimes lacks in consistency, they make up for in pure character and charisma. I’ve had trouble getting “Lightning Strikes Back” out of my head ever since first hearing the song, and it’s far from the only memorable moment here.

Light and Desolation is another strong success in a recent streak of distantly similar but ultimately unrelated nods to the old school. Blizaro continues putting their own spin on classic heavy and doom metal with elements of Italian horror ambience and olde prog synths from outer space. Aside from some minor vocal and songwriting slip-ups, it’s a majorly fun and replayable package with many layers to uncover. John Gallo’s busy schedule makes his writing speed tend towards the George R.R. Martin end of things, but the wait was well worth it. Here’s hoping there are more chapters of this—or even stronger—quality in the book of Blizaro yet to come!

Rating: Very Good
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s CBR MP3
Label: Nameless Grave Records
Website: Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: September 26th, 2025

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For the Souls We Have Lost succeeds at sounding like its inspirations. At the core of Harvest are barebones, Sabbathian riffs, reminiscent of the way My Dying Bride practices Sabbath revival on an album like The Angel and the Dark River. Vocally, Emanuele resembles Aaron Stainthorpe in both his clean and extreme registers. Emanuele and guitarist Fabio Torresan offer simple yet effective interplays between gothy croons, Iommian phrases, and macabre growls, especially on “Floating Leaves.” But no doom with gothic aspirations can do without gloomy atmosphere. In addition to supplying a second guitar, Matteo Gandolfi plays keyboards, adding texture via synthetic strings (“Floating Leaves”), choirs (“Born Alone”), and horns (“Shining Moon”). These elements nicely fill out the refreshingly open production of For the Souls We Have Lost, especially on closer “The Path of Life.” Harvest have crafted a debut that will transport listeners to a graveyard poetry reading in 1997, with Paradise Lost’s Gothic and Katatonia’s Brave Murder Day providing the soundtrack.

Doom is an inherently direct subgenre, but simplicity often holds For the Souls We Have Lost back. The main riffs in both “Hunter of Souls” and “Shining Moon” are a bit too straightforward; they would have benefited from some variation. On the songwriting front, most of these songs include a clean or acoustic guitar break in the middle (“Floating Leaves,” “Hunter of Souls,” “Shining Moon”). This is a common way to approach a bridge in doom, but it becomes a predictable pattern here. These sections also raise another issue: the dryness of the non-distorted guitar tones. Opener “Born Alone,” for example, begins with a two-chord progression played by a clean guitar lacking character. The song eventually kicks into heavy gear, but when it returns to its dry-clean progression in the middle, the song ends up feeling like a buildup without a payoff.

The vocals do occasionally elevate these songs, though they present their own challenges. On the clean side, Emanuele favors a mid-range croon that results in some memorable hooks (“Floating Leaves,” “Hunter of Souls”). At other points, however, the cleans don’t hit the ear in the best way. The verse to “In Shape of Beast” includes melodic jumps that are kind of catchy but that don’t mesh with the supporting music. Similarly, “Shining Moon” ends with a cappella vocals that waver when they should be commanding attention. On one song, the cleans sound like the work of a different vocalist. “Born Alone” drops a droning monotone atop its simple chord progression, which doesn’t do much to develop the melody.² Whereas the rest of the album has those satisfying, Stainthropean swings in inflection, “Born Alone” sets a flat—and retrospectively confusing—tone as the opener.

If 90s gothic doom is your home, then you probably won’t need to consult your doctor before taking For the Souls We Have Lost. Such listeners will find comfort across the album’s reasonable 37-minute runtime, particularly from “Floating Leaves” and “The Path of Life.” If, however, the subgenre is more like the Victorian house of an esoteric neighbor, then For the Souls We Have Lost probably won’t do much for you. The retro production won’t read as charmingly nostalgic, and the inconsistencies will prevent full immersion. Harvest have done a good job conjuring the matter and spirit of their influences; hopefully, their follow-up will play off their strengths to develop a unique identity.

Rating: 2.0/5.0
DR: 11 | Format Reviewed: V0 mp3
Label: Octopus Rising Records (sub-label of Argonauta Records)
Websites: harvest-doom.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/harvestdoom
Releases Worldwide: September 26th, 2025

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What Ordeals lacks in recognition, they offset with strong musicianship. Blackened riffs, courtesy of bassist/guitarist Illuminated, roil and surge like a sturgeon just beneath the surface, constantly shifting and reappearing through tempo shifts and key changes (“Throes”). Tremolo-heavy passages like those on “Suffer Cursed Ordeals” invoke Abominator and instill a sense of urgency and desperation. The bass most often acts as foil for the guitar, adding depth and texture to each track, but there are moments, like the back half of Skeletonwitched “Emerge,” where it takes center stage. Drummer Bellum loves a good blast beat, but he has a wealth of percussive techniques at his disposal. His kitwork is dynamic and energetic, and he drives the album with a varied and masterful hand. Bellum sets the tone (“Scorn Ceremony”), guides transitions (“Third Rail Prayer,” “Suffer Cursed Ordeals”), and keeps the album moving at an enjoyable and engaging pace.

A sectarian, ritualistic energy pervades Third Rail Prayer. Rather than high-pitched rasps, Zealous Hellspell mostly employs full-throated roars and shouts like Uada or Rotting Christ, evoking clandestine religious ceremonies or the recitation of some dark magic (“Triumph,” “Suffer Cursed Ordeals”). Though Ordeals bills themselves as blackened death, my ears hear a fair—and quite competent—share of doom, as “Throes” and “Triumph” build delightfully unsettling tension with stately Candlemass-esque riffcraft. The patient bass and inexorable drums of “Scorn Ceremony” paint a picture of evil sacraments and recall the backwater cult vibes of Choir. Ordeals releases that tension to great effect, too. In conjunction with Hellspell’s fanatical roars, Illuminated and Bellum often end songs by whipping each other into a spiraling dionysian fervor reminiscent of Kvaen’s “The Funeral Pyre” (“Third Rail Prayer,” “Throes,” “Emerge”). Contrary to my expectations, crafting this ceremonial, almost liturgical atmosphere is where Ordeals truly excels.

The atmospheric, doom-laden high points of Third Rail Prayer make for an ironic prime criticism. When Ordeals channels Solitude Aeternus or Solstice, their measured, dignified songcraft and palpable atmosphere far outstrip anything else on the album. Make no mistake, Third Rail Prayer is an enjoyable ride front to back, but Ordeals’ blacker, deathier portions feel lackluster by comparison. While Zealous Hellspell’s rapturous howling helps stretch that atavistic spirit over the whole album, the same can’t be said of Illuminated and Bellum’s contributions. When Ordeals’ focus shifts from doom to another subgenre, I’m left impatiently waiting for their focus to shift back. The synergy and flow in those Sabbathian passages is so comprehensive, it’s ultimately frustrating that there’s not more of it here.

Third Rail Prayer employs a kitchen sink approach, showing off a little bit of everything the band can do. Ordeals plays good black metal and good death metal, but they play great high (blackened) doom. On Third Rail Prayer, Ordeals treats their best characteristic as just another tool in their belt. This debut serves as a 40-minute proof of concept, albeit an unfocused one.² If they can hone in on their strengths—stately, doomy songcraft and palpably ceremonious atmosphere—and use them as a solid foundation moving forward, they’ll create something great in a sea of good. Ordeals is not a band to be slept on, and I have high expectations for them in the future.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Labels: Eternal Death
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: September 26th, 2025

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From the first notes of opener “Octagon,” it’s clear Warcoe grew up on Black Sabbath and their progeny. Carlo’s bass is warm and velvety, while Stefano’s devious guitar tone compliments his Ozzy-esque vocals well. More than mere worshippers, Warcoe augments their classic sound with stoner rock and metal. “The Wanderer” and “Brown Witch” summon Monolord with mammothian riffage, while leaner, more energetic tracks like “I’ve Sat upon Tall Thrones (but I’ll Never Learn)” and “Spheres” strike a balance between Windhand, The Sword or Kadaver. Beyond doom and stoner metal, Warcoe also incorporates more classic styles. Stefano’s lead guitar never fails to impress, his hooks and solos recalling your dad’s favorite cuts from CCR or ZZ Top. As a whole, Upon Tall Thrones presents a nostalgic, vintage sound dressed in modern clothes.

While Upon Tall Thrones initially sounded great in the background, its faults appeared when I began paying closer attention. I love the timbre of Stefano’s voice, and it fits Warcoe’s style, but his delivery is fairly monotone. Stefano’s minimal range holds several good moments back from greatness (“I’ve Sat…,” “Dark into Light”). This may be a stylistic choice, but it grows tiresome around the midpoint. The production on Upon Tall Thrones is a much bigger issue. I’m not sure what happened between drummer Francesco sitting down to record and me downloading the files, but the drums skip and stutter quite a bit. It’s mostly confined to the cymbals, and it’s more noticeable on the back half, but I heard at least one instance on every track except drumless acoustic interlude “Gather in the Woods.” That track has its own problems, though, as static popping accompanies every. single. note. It’s maddening, I can’t unhear it, and it ruins an otherwise great acoustic break.

Faults aside, I still hear ambition and potential on Upon Tall Thrones. But for the tail end of “Deepest Grave,” there’s no bloat here. Warcoe is dynamic. Rarely does a riff overstay its welcome or a song miss its best endpoint. Even with two instrumental tracks smack dab in the middle of the album (“Gather in the Woods” and “Flame in Your Hand”), the energy doesn’t falter, and my attention doesn’t wander. Warcoe even manages a little successful experimentation. Blackened tremolos hover above the proceedings on “Dark into Light,” and the 16-bit, Wraith Knighted solo of “Flame in Your Hand” sends me hurtling down memory lane to play Final Fantasy IV. It’s Warcoe’s willingness to explore beyond their influences that makes me think they’re chasing something special here.

I try not to quote promo material, but in the case of Warcoe’s Upon Tall Thrones, “groovy doom from the abyss” and “vintage darkness with sharp and heavy riffs” work pretty well. Unfortunately, what excels in a casual environment falls short under closer scrutiny. My criticisms of Upon Tall Thrones aren’t apocalyptic, but they are consistent and pervasive, bringing the entire album down. This resulted in a lower score than I wanted, but I have hope for the future. Warcoe shows promise. If Stefano can expand his range and the band can both secure cleaner production and hone their unique sound, whatever succeeds Upon Tall Thrones has the potential for excellence.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: FLAC
Label: Ripple Music | Morbid And Miserable Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: September 26th, 2025

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Castle Rat hit the ground running with their warm and cozy retro sound intact, albeit featuring a livelier, louder and more propulsive reiteration of the sound established on the debut. Whether listeners find their whole deal too gimmicky or not, it’s tough to doubt the authenticity and passion for their chosen style. Castle Rat channel a ’70s psychedelic haze, prominent Black Sabbath influence, and share surface similarities with acts such as the underrated and enchanting Purson, and modern stoner doom merchants Green Lung. The Bestiary is an altogether harder-hitting and boisterous entity compared to the debut, jacking up the NWoHM and fantasy-inspired bombast for extra crunch. “Phoenix I” unfurls in a slow-burning, dramatic and deliberate fashion, setting the scene for Pinkerton and co to unleash their full fury.

The Bestiary’s increased gallop and fiery guitar work ignite around the poppier sensibilities and smooth central doom grooves and prevalently catchy vocal hooks. Although not the most distinctive frontwoman in the biz, Pinkerton’s silky vocal hooks and confident, commanding delivery continue to a key focal point. Right out the gate, Castle Rat stockpile big-hitting rockers, courtesy of the bluesy doom swagger and earworm hooks of rollicking gems, “Wolf I” and “Wizard.” “Siren” keeps the good times rolling, employing tense rhythmic builds and seductively sinister vocals to cast its spell. There is an easy-to-like simplicity and infectiousness to Castle Rat’s songwriting that shines when the band’s craftsmanship is at its best. Dialing up the epic-ness and adding extra crunch and pepper creates a burlier, higher-octane effort. Within the rowdier experience, Franco Vittore (aka The Count) belts out some blazing solos, while lending doomy weight to straightforward rockers (‘Serpent, “Dragon”) and a grinding, ominous touch to “Unicorn.” Castle Rat’s willingness to experiment outside their comfort zone results in an adventurous, though mixed bag. The softer material nails mysterious, foreboding atmospheres and changes pace, though these shorter pieces are generally less engaging than the album’s rockier fare.

Amidst The Bestiary’s endearing and infectious songwriting, drawbacks appear, tainting an otherwise enjoyable opus. The bricked mastering and loud production detract from the music’s warmth and endearing charms. This issue is felt in numerous areas. The drums lack punch, the mix is squashed and muddied, while dynamic shifts, such as acoustic forays, or the noisy, climactic cacophony on “Unicorn” and “Sun Song” are sapped of their power, dulling impact. Another notable change from the debut is the increased runtime, climbing to nearly fifty minutes, in contrast to its predecessor’s refreshing efficiency. There are momentum drops and pacing issues. These factors and the front-loaded nature of the album contribute to bloat. An intro, outro, mid-album instrumental piece (“Path of Moss”) and three decent, acoustic-driven folkier tunes have their merits but combined contribute to pacing issues and overall padding.

Into the Realm was an impressive debut outing, signaling Castle Rat as a fresh force pedaling retro and fantasy-clad doom to strong effect. The Bestiary marks an ambitious, solid, if flawed follow-up. Significant production concerns and the aforementioned pacing issues, bloat, and an uneven backend detract from an album that reaffirms Castle Rat as a talented band with old school values and a vision to diversify their formula with intriguing results. While not everything hits the mark, there is still much to unpack, some killer tunes, and fun to be had. Hopefully Castle Rat can channel their creativity into a more consistent, tighter effort next time round.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 3 | Format Reviewed: 2304 kbps (Lossless)
Label: Blues Funeral Recordings
Websites: bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: September 19th, 2025

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LOMMI

Turns out my doubts were ill-founded: 667788 is a blast. The promo describes LOMMI as traditional/groove metal, and while this isn’t the first style that popped into my head when I pressed play, it’s also not inaccurate. They rely on heavy, low-tuned guitars and chunky bass riffs to lay down infectious grooves. The bass line on “Down” carries strong influences of Pantera’s groove classic “Walk,” if Pantera were stoner doom. Stoner doom, to my ears, best describes their sound. The opening guitars on “Sayonara” bring to mind a cleaner, less fuzzy High on Fire, and the epic riffs and cymbal-drenched percussion on “Rather” conjure The Sword. They also sprinkle a little blues and a not-insignificant pinch of grunge, from Alice in Chains to Stone Temple Pilots. I can’t help but think of “Vaseline” when Jens Florén sings “There’s a fly in my room and it keeps me awake” on “Wish.”

While this might make them sound like a clumsily cobbled-together Frankensteinian monster, LOMMI plays with a high level of swagger. This swagger is apparent when Florén cackles on “Sayonara” and throws out a “yeah!” here and there. It’s also there in his thick and meaty guitar riffs, such as those that open the raucous “Blood Moon.” Florén’s voice evokes the spirit of Lemmy from Motorhead and his riffs carry the energy of Rob Zombie. He’s not the only source of the swagger, though. Dennis Österdal’s other band, Transport League, may have been trashed by Grier six years ago, but his bass serves as the backbone on “Down” and “Children,” adding healthy doses of heft and groove. To quote the BFG, that blues-y bass line on “Children” is “scrumdiddlyumptious.” Jörgen Tjusling proves a formidable presence behind the kit. He sets a disciplined, mid-tempo pace, though he occasionally goes ape-wild on the cymbals. There’s a moment on the back half of “Sayonara” where he summons Black Sabbath a lá “War Pigs.”

From the simple song titles to the tight songwriting, this trio seeks to prove the mantra that “less is more,” no matter how many times Angry Metal Guy quotes Yngwie Malmsteen’s “more is more” counterpoint. Over 8 songs, LOMMI provides 38 minutes of no-frills, high-octane fun. However, there are a few momentum-killing moments where songs meander with little purpose. Unsurprisingly, these moments occur on the only two tracks that surpass 5 minutes. While “Blood Moon” has some of my favorite riffs, the final few minutes go into freestyle jam session mode, where your mileage may vary. On “Children,” the bookends are terrific, but the middle portion feels like an entirely different, more sluggish song, a rare moment where the band seems unsure how to fill the time. These few minutes are just a minor issue, however, on an otherwise rollicking record.

667788 just may have put LOMMI on the map; at the very least, it put them on my map. It proves not just the prowess of the individual performers, but their songwriting acumen. Despite their limited credentials, they play as if they were masters of the craft, and that’s saying something for what is possibly a debut album. This one took me completely by surprise, and it’s one of those records where 750 words just isn’t enough to say everything I want to. Hopefully, it doesn’t take another decade to write the follow-up, but if you put out a record this good, who’s to dispute the process? If you love big riffs and big fun, don’t miss out on these guys.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 10 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Majestic Mountain Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: August 1st, 2025

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