I’ll give Temple of Void some credit for spicing up their recipe this time out. Opener “Poison Icon” is a hard-rocking death-meets-stoner-doom meat paste that’s bright and upbeat while managing to remain pretty damn heavy. There’s a rowdy urgency to the riffs that doesn’t fit neatly into death or doom camps, and the segues into hard rock stanzas with guttural death vocals over the top remind me of various melodeath Rogga products and the recent works of Hooded Menace. It’s not the nasty Temple of Void that I long for, but it’s entertaining nonetheless. “Godless Cynic “moves into darker, more grotesque death-doom territory with riffs that slither and snake all over, and when teamed with really hostile death vocals, things feel threatening and dangerous. It’s one of the album highlights, and it reminds me of the long-forgotten, criminally underrated Dutch doom band Another Messiah, which is a win in my book. ¹ The title track is classic death-doom designed to pulverize and pummel. It does the job well, and the riffs are grisly fun as they swing from death stomp to doom plod.

Things also heat up on “A Dead Issue,” as discordant leads and eerie keyboards conspire to create an ominous, unsettling soundscape. The dreamy, ethereal guitars that weave in and out add another layer and make for a dynamic listen. The 7:41 closer “The Twin Stranger” is ferocious, with huge riffs dropping from the sky like spiked anvils. There’s enough forward momentum tank chugs to recall the glory days of Bolt Thrower and the pacing keeps the song from feeling as long as it is. Not every track is as successful at world-building, though. “Thy Mountain Eternal” attempts to cram an epic Viking metal element into the death-doom foundation, but ultimately ends up sounding more like recycled Omnium Gatherum than Ereb Altor, and at just under 7-minutes, it drags on too long. At 41-plus minutes, The Crawl is just about the ideal length for this kind of fare, and though there are moments of bloat to be found, most of the tracks are fairly fit and spry. The production gives the guitars enough raw power to intimidate, and those death vocals will shake the molars out of your head.

The Temple of Void edifice is highly reliant on the riff firepower brought to bear, and Alexander Awn and Michael Erdody bring enough explosives to flatten a small city. Yes, they dabble in outside influences, but this is a death-doom album at heart, and the bulldozing leads aim to harm. The rock, Goth, and other outside elements decorate the riffs, but they don’t replace the hammer and axe. There are many hook-tastic leads and smoking solos to absorb, and the diversity keeps things from feeling like a monolithic slog. Erdody’s large-scale death roars are highly effective, and he keeps things heavy no matter what genre the guitars decide to visit. It’s really the writing that elevates The Crawl beyond what was heard on Summoning the Slayer. This is a much more ambitious, adventurous outing, and it sounds like the band felt more confident and free to develop their sound this time out.

I came into The Crawl concerned that Temple of Void was going to evolve right into an early grave, but the material here is full of life, liberty, and the pursuit of the best bits of death and doom. There’s variety and inventiveness, but it will still flatten your ass regularly. I doubt they will ever give us another Lords of Death, but this ain’t so bad in its stead. Visit the newly renovated Temple.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: NA | Format Reviewed: Fucking STREAM!!
Label: Relapse
Websites: templeofvoid.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/templeofvoid | instagram.com/templeofvoid
Releases Worldwide: March 6th, 2026

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After a rousing, table-setting intro, you’re launched into “Witchking” and greeted by classic 80s guitar lines with a burly trve vibe sure to get your lust for battle growing. When Isak Neffling starts singing, those familiar with the Mercyful Fate demos and the original EP will hear a notable similarity to an early-day King Diamond. I don’t mean the high-pitched falsettos, but the ominous baritones he used regularly before he became a faux-evil cartoon character. One could also say Isak also reminds of The Night Eternal’s Ricardo Baum, who borrowed a lot from Mr. Diamond vocally himself. Either way, it makes for an interesting listen as Isak sings of Tolkien baddies, swords, and sorcery. “Excalibur” is all beef and chest-pounding bravado with a galloping pace, scrotal power to spare, and a chorus that feels just epic enough. It hits all the nostalgia bells and feels ancient as fook, but it can still beat your ass like a back-alley thug.

Elsewhere, “Exiled in Fire” is fast, fist-pumping classic metal with sweet guitar work and a rowdy, rough edge that takes me back to the dirty, unpolished NWoBHM days. “Shipwreck” is another riffy good time with a vague In Solitude vibe, and “White Wolf” is about as epic 80s metal as it gets without lapsing into Spinal Tap levels of parody. At a tight 40 minutes and with all songs contained in the 4-5 minute window, there’s not much fluff or blubber on the compositions. The only drawback is that the writing routinely sits in that “good and almost very good” pocket, never fully reaching that next level of badassery. It’s an easy, entertaining spin, but it won’t blow anyone’s mind or make many end-of-year lists. The production is painstakingly designed to sound rough and vintage, and it does hit that 1980-1982 aura with a warmth and texture that modern recordings often lack.

Gustav Harrysson and Teddy Edoff bring the sounds of proto and epic 80s metal to the Great Hall, cleaving closely to the NWoBHM blueprint but always injecting that grand and glorious edge to their playing. I hear many hints of early Mercyful Fate and Satan in their choices, and the Manilla Road-isms are there too. I don’t know if Isak Neffling was trying to channel King Diamond, but he certainly does, and that adds to the nostalgic appeal. Listen to “White Wolf,” and you hear the earliest days of Mercyful Fate, and that’s undeniably cool. His vocals don’t always work, though, and things get especially weird and awkward on “The Sorceress.” In toto, Isak gives Templar an X factor the band wouldn’t have otherwise, and that certainly works in their favor despite a few misfires.

Conquering Swords is an interesting and engaging debut from a band that have the potential to be much more. There are moments scattered across the album that hint at greatness, and maybe with more time and effort, those parts lead someplace special. As things stand, Templar are a good throwback band with one foot in the past and the other looking for the next place to stomp. Where they go from here will prove interesting. Worth checking out for the love of Diamond and rust(ed swords).

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Jawbreaker
Websites: facebook.com/templarsweden | instagram.com/templar.band
Releases Worldwide: February 27th, 2026

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Disembarkment: From Snowbound to Southbound

Mere days before we were scheduled to fly down to Florida, the massive bomb cyclone winter storm dubbed “Fern” clobbered most of the eastern seaboard and dropped 15 inches of snow on our Long Island hometown. This scrambled all the central, southern, and eastern US airports something fierce, and with news of thousands of canceled flights in the days leading up to the cruise, we stressed mightily that we might not make it to Miami to catch the ship. The 70000 Tons group on Facebook was littered with tragic tales of folks getting their flights cancelled multiple times, with some opting to skip the airports entirely and try to make it by car from faraway locales.² As the Metal Gods willed it, we got to the airport, made it to a not-very-sunny Florida on time without any hassles. We reported to the Port of Miami the next day, and the adventure began!

Day One: The Aclimationing

After going through the boarding process and nominally attending our safety briefing, beers were enjoyed as Madam X and I toured our new home. Freedom of the Seas is a typical cruise ship, but it was immediately apparent that this would not be a typical cruise. Aside from the ocean of black shirts and battle vests, all the music played over the ship’s sound systems was metal. This was a surprisingly satisfying touch, as I always wondered what it would be like to have my preferred genre played in places like supermarkets, dentist offices, and malls. This shit should be normalized outside of a niche metal cruise event. Hell, even when you turned on your cabin’s TV, there was a channel playing videos of the bands on board 24/7, and when you went to the shopping or cruise map channels, the background music was 120% pure metal. Nir-fucking-vana, folks!

As everyone boarded, got settled in, and the initial drinks were drunk, the first bands went off at 5:30. As any good primate would do in such circumstances, I chose Vio-Lence since they’re a beloved band from my youth that I never got to see live during their heyday. Prior to the band taking the stage, a stocky, bald gentleman berated a group of people (myself included) for not wearing ear protection. This was laughed off with good nature, and then I realized the man looking out for our aural health was none other than David White, the vocalist of Heathen. It was cool to see the Heathen dudes there showing support for their fellow San Francisco thrashers, and it was a nice way to kick off the festivities. Vio-Lence came out shortly thereafter and proceeded to destroy everyone with loud, vicious renditions of the material off their timeless debut, Eternal Nightmare. They sounded much heavier than expected, and Sean Killian was a man possessed on stage as he delivered the hyperactive and voluminous vocal lines like it was still 1990. They covered almost all of their debut and tossed in “World in a World” and the Dead Kennedys’ classic “California Über Alles” for extra spice, and I left well impressed by how youthful and powerful they sounded.

From there we ducked in to catch Harakiri for the Sky, and though neither Madam X nor I were very familiar with them, they impressed with their atmospheric post-black sound. They reminded me of Agalloch enough to want to visit their catalog, and Madam X was very much enthralled. From there, it was straight to the big theater to see Soen, and I admit to never being much of a fan. They were polished and professional, but their style of radio-friendly hard rock didn’t really fit with the 70000 Tons vibe, and I was bored pretty quickly, though watching Martin Lopez (ex-Opeth) pound away on his kit was entertaining. Things improved greatly when we went on to catch Cemetery Skyline, the Scandinavian Goth rock supergroup. Though the material on their Nordic Gothic debut isn’t all that much harder than what Soen do, the energy generated by Mikael Stanne and Markus Vanhala (Insomnium, Omnium Gatherum) was off the charts. The band seemed to be having as much or more fun than the very receptive crowd, and Stanne in particular seemed to be thrilled to be there. The set was electric, and the energy from the crowd was palpable.

Next up was Kamelot, and though I’m a huge fan of their early albums, I haven’t loved the post-Silverthrone output much. The band did their best to put on a lively performance, and Tommy Karevik sounded fine, but the setlist, taken mostly from the last 3 albums, was somewhat uninspiring, and we left after 5-6 songs. After taking time to get food and brewskis, we headed back to the theater to see Anthrax. A beloved band from my youth, it had been a long time since I last saw them live, but they acted and sounded much the same, opening with the timeless “A.I.R.” and leaning heavily on their Spreading the Disease and Among the Living classics. At one point, Joey started singing Judas Priest’s “The Ripper” before launching into “Caught in a Mosh,” and Scott Ian dubbed the 70000 Cruise as “the world’s coolest prison.” These olde thrash dawgs can still bring it, and the packed crowd ate it up (I especially loved them busting out “Be all. End All” from their State of Euphoria platter).

Last up for our first night was a 12:30 am set by the weird and mysterious Kanonenfieber. Support for the band was apparent, with numerous folks onboard rocking plastic versions of the Pickelhaube (the WWI era pointy helmet worn by Prussian and German soldiers), and they’ve received a ton of love and overratings from the AMG staff these past few years. Somehow, though, I never completely bought into what band creator Noise was doing. Until I saw it all done live, that is. With a stage covered in sandbags and barbed wire, the masked trench warriors supporting Noise came out in matching WWI period soldiers’ clothing to play a somber, ominous intro before Noise himself burst out dressed in full Kaiser gear as things erupted into full boar black death insanity. While their style can at times come across as heavier, faster Rammstein, there was no denying how much punch they packed live, and Noise is a very animated, maniacal frontman. He had the crowd eating from his hand despite an entire set in German. Sure, the multiple costume changes were a bit over-the-top, but they fit the narrative of the horrors of war. Thus pummeled and pulverized, it was time to call it a day.

Day Two: Any Port in the Storm

Due to the huge storm that was sweeping up the east coast, the Captain decided that the ship would head straight to Nassau on Friday rather than Saturday, so rather than bands taking the stage by 10 am, they would hold off til 5:30, and we would be free to leave the ship in the morning and wander around the island. After a few hours sightseeing, we were ready for more molten metal and eager to see Orden Organ kick things off on the newly constructed pool deck stage. Frontman Seeb was injured before the cruise and unable to make the trip, so the band recruited Marc Lopes (Ross the Boss, ex-Metal Church) to fill in. As the ship headed back out ot sea, the band ripped through the big hits of Ogan’s catalog, opening with the massive “F.E.V.E.R.” Dan sounded powerful and convincing, though between songs, he made it clear he was still learning the songs, so not to judge him too harshly. Minus a few missed vocal lines here and there, he did a fine job, got the crowd involved, and seemed really thrilled to be there. As they tore through hits like “The Things We Believe in,” “The Order of Fear,” and “Heart of the Android,” a cold rain began to fall, and by the end of their set, it was getting pretty heavy on the deck.

We retreated to the safety of the sports bar for liquid courage before having to go back out in the rain 45 minutes later to see the mighty Amorphis. The pool deck stage was an open-air rain debacle as they came out, and even before Tomi could start roaring, he was drenched and waterlogged. Tomi always looks like a pirate, so it worked for him, and the band sounded as great as ever live, though I felt bad for Santeri Kallio having to constantly wipe off his keyboards as the rain crashed down. The set was tight despite the weather, and they hit all the high points, from gems like “Death of a King” and “The Smoke” to going way back to Tales from the Thousand Lakes to uncork “Black Winter Day.” Nothing can stop these all-weather Finns!

From the deluge, we retreated to see Wolf in the Deck 5 lounge, which is essentially a smallish room without any kind of raised stage. Wolf were game about it and delivered a rowdy set of their NWoBHM-meets power metal, but unless you stood directly in front of them, you couldn’t see jack shit. It was still a good show, aurally at least. We left a bit early to get back to the monsoon deck to see Beast in Black, but their set was moved to 4:15 am due to how awful the weather had become outside. This allowed for a quick detour to catch Ereb Altor at the rink stage, and they were exactly how I imagined they would be: brooding, heavy, and not fucking around at all as they clobbered the crowd with their Viking black metal. As I was swept away to the good olde days of blood eagles and rule by sword, I found myself wondering why the band didn’t also schedule a few sets for Isole, as the same guys are in both bands. Great show, lost opportunity.

From there we beered up and then caught death metallers Skeletal Remains back in the lounge, and they were appropriately heavy and caveman as fook. Perhaps the caveman shit went too far as they blasted way past their allotted time, and soon thereafter, rumors started spreading that a certain band member was getting hammered and way too touchy-feely with the female cruisers. This ultimately led to him being confined to his cabin and the band getting banned from future 70000 Tons events. After Skeltal Remains decamped, we stayed put in the lounge as up next was none other than the one, the only…Jag Fucking Panzer!! A huge staple of my teen years, these Colorado classic US power metal masters dropped the iconic Ample Destruction back in 1985, and I’ve loved them ever since, but never got to see them live. Because we were hanging around as the band set up, legendary vocalist Harry “the Tyrant” Conklin came over to chat and offered us “Tyrant coins,” which are basically a commemorative Jag Panzer challenge coin. We took them happily, and I tried not to be too fanboyish. I also got to speak with founding guitarist Mark Briody, and he was as nice a guy as there is. When Panzer took the stage, they proceeded to rip the crowd a new one with a string of timeless cuts from Ample Destruction and select gems from their later releases. I was floored by how powerful Tyrant’s voice was live, and this was my highlight of the trip thus far. I was very glad we were dead center front row for this one!

After that unbeatable show, we went back up to the pool deck for Kanonenfieber’s second set at 12;30 am, hoping the rain had finally died down. The fates smiled upon Noise, and the skies held off, allowing them to tear through another set of war-horror-themed Germanic madness with Noise commanding the crowd like a battle-hardened general. Though some of the same songs from the first set were done again, it still seemed like a different event entirely, and aside from the odd clash of the masked, uniformed mauraders and the happy, colorful pool deck decorations, it was an immersive open sea air experience.

Day Three: Arctic Winds

Day three was the first where the bands hit the stages early, with some starting at 10:00 am. We dragged ourselves out of bed, got caffenated and made it to the pool deck to see Hiraes take the stage. I hadn’t hear of this Germanic melodeath act until their frontwoman Britta Görtz appeared in the recent Kreator video for “Tränenpalast.” They had an energetic set, and Britta has a shockingly demonic voice for such a charmingly upbeat, tiny woman. Then it was off to catch Wolf in the vastly superior rink stage, and they once again brought the old school metal thunder and showed the crowd how to pull off guitar-driven 80s metal with a touch of Euro-power.

80s Bay Area techno-thrashers Heathen were up next, and they delivered their typically solid, burly set, with frontman David White doing his hyperactive best to stir the theater crowd to violence. Speaking of Vio-Lence, I spotted a few of them in the crowd returning the favor of support. I especially loved when Heathen busted out “Goblin’s Blade” from their 1987 debut, and that song has aged like fine wine. “Hypnotized” was also as great live as ever, and that song should be considered one of the great thrash epics of all time. As we left the theater, Madam X informed me that the vocalist for Heathen was built much like Noise from Kanonenfieber and might be him. And so began several days of speculation as to who the Kanonenfieber guys were and where they might be on the ship.

After food and a merch shopping break, we caught the immortal NWoBHM legends Satan at the rink deck. Long have I wanted to witness them live, and when I finally got my wish, they were even better than I hoped. The ageless Brian Ross sounded like a 25-year-old, hitting all manner of high register wails and screams, often going beyond what was required by the songs. The band was insanely frenetic in a live setting, with guitarists Russ Tippins and Steve Ramsey putting on a shred clinic, sounding like classic Iron Maiden at double speed. They put on a helluva powerful, no-BS metal show, and Ross is a character as a frontman.³

Off to the pool deck we went, thereafter to catch some of Firewind’s set. I wanted to see Gus G wank his way to the moon in person, and I was not disappointed. I was surprised to see Herbie Langhams wasn’t performing vocals, and instead, former frontman Henning Basse (ex-Brainstorm, ex-Metallium) was there on stage. Together they plowed through mighty tunes like “Ode to Leonidas” and “I Am the Anger,” with Gus showing why he’s considered one of metal’s top axe masters. The weirdo semi-death, kinda-Goth Tribulation were next. Unfortunately, they were derailed by technical issues and lost some equipment in transit, and opened their set 20 minutes late. Even when they finally got going, they were still plagued by sound issues. They did their best, but they didn’t get to present themselves properly, and things were a bit lackluster overall.

Next was the one and only time Madam X and I had to part company, as she was dying to see Beast in Black and I needed to see Jag Panzer’s second set and both went off at the same time. This Panzer set was a “drop the needle” on their classic album Ample Destruction, and I couldn’t miss seeing them run through it from start to finish. This time Jag Panzer got the rink stage, which is far better than the lounge, and once again they brought the crowd to their knees with masterful renditions of cuts like “Licensed to Kill,” “Warfare,” and “Harder Than Steel.” Tyrant again demonstrated the sheer power and force of his ageless pipes, and the band made sure to leave everything on the stage. I even ended up with an official Jag Panzer wristband in the process. Sometimes it’s good to meet your heroes. Madam X was equally blown away by the Beast in Black set, making me wish I had caught that show, too.

From there, I raced to the pool deck to catch Paradise Lost. The long-running lords of Peaceville doom put on a solid if somewhat low-key set, drawing from their vast catalog and collection of styles. It wasn’t the most animated set of the cruise, but the songs sounded great, and Nick Holmes was in good form. I appreciated that they didn’t shy away from their Depeche Lost era either.

After that, Anthrax took the pool deck stage, and lo and behold, bassist Frank Bello was missing in action. In his place was a guy who looked a whole lot like Joey Vera of Armored Saint, Fates Warning, etc. Turns out it was Joey filling in, as Frank had to leave the ship to get to LA to accept his Grammy for best Live Rock performance for Yungblud’s rendition of Black Sabbath’s “Changes” at the Back to the Beginning concert. I have no idea how Frank got off the ship or how they mailed Joey in, but he fit right in, and Anthrax did another classic set, even hitting “Deathrider” from the debut and “In the End” from Worship Music. Queens, NY, represent!

Day Four: Survive and Endure

As the rigors of nonstop metalling slowly began to set in, we arose on day four, opted to eat a quick breakfast, then jumped in a hot tub on the pool deck while they were fresh, clean, and not full of plus-sized, mega-hairy metalheads. Because of our early arrival, we only shared a tub with a very nice Dutch couple, and as we listened to Xandria playing their morning set about 100 feet away, we discussed the Dutch metal scene, the Roadburn festival, and how The Gathering is superior to most other similar acts. Xandria aren’t my cup of tea, and I couldn’t see them from my tub, but they sounded decent enough for a symphonic power metal band.

After tub time, we caught Tyr on the pool deck as they brought Faroian thunder to the high seas. Their burly sound translated well to the setting, and it was all beefy tales of heroism and swordplay, with “By the Sword in My Hand” and “Blood of Heroes” hitting extra hard. It was extra cool to see Jag Panzer’s Mark Briody right up front in the crowd, throwing horns and celebrating the next generation of metal.

Later on, we caught the second set of Satan, and again they burned the stage down around them, then we wandered into the last 15 minutes of Darkane’s set on the pool deck. After that, Madam X convinced me to try Groza’s set, which was a shockingly harrowing blast of misanthropic black metal performed by dudes in hoods who were from Germany. They impressed and furthered the ongoing Kanonenfieber conspiracy mill considerably.

One of the highlights of the event for me was seeing ultimate underdog 80s thrash act Hirax take the stage on the pool deck as the weather turned windy and cold again. Hirax released 2 obscure albums in the mid 80s that I dearly loved because they were so different from everything else out there. Katon Depena was a truly unique vocalist, singing in a strange up and down pattern over short thrashy songs that verged on grindcore. It was both odd and endearing, and my high school friends and I constantly imitated his wonky singing. They were too cult to ever tour near us, so I always wondered what they would be like live. When Hirax stormed the stage, they were everything I expected and then some. Katon was a complete maniac, running all over, climbing the amps, jumping into the crowd, taking a big fur coat from a fan, and rocking it on stage, all as he ripped through a succession of lightning-fast classics. It was one of the craziest sets of the cruise, and the crowd was eating it up. Hail Hirax.

As the ship steered toward the setting sun, Finnish melodoom gods Insomnium took the pool deck stage to deliver a classically melancholic but heavy set as the weather got colder and colder. They were tight, polished, and amusingly enough, complained about how cold it was on the deck. As they started to play “Down With the Sun,” the sun was slowly disappearing below the watery horizon, and with the cold air blowing, it felt like a weirdly Finnish moment on what was billed as a Caribbean cruise.

In the ultimate whiplash kind of switch up, we raced from the Insomnium set to witness Rhapody of Fire launch their nerd-raging dragon power all over the theater stage. As they catapulted into cheddar manufacturing mode, the crowd brandished waves of inflatable swords and hammers like a full-fledged LARP was about to break out. In the middle of the raging orcstorm, vocalist Giacomo Voli went completely bonkers, wailing, screaming, stirring the crowd up, and even stage diving and crowdriding. Somehow, he kept singing as he was held aloft by the rowdy crowd and pummeled with inflatable melee weapons.⁴ Though I’m not a fan of the band, I couldn’t deny the entertainment factor and the insane charisma of Voli.

The festivities wound down with a 12:30 am Dark Tranquillity set on the pool deck, and as always, Stanne and company were the consummate professionals, doling out the classic melodeath goods as only they can. Stanne sounded superb and in his glory, and the band put on an appropriately massive cap to a great cruise. After their set, Andy, the man behind the whole event, took the stage to thank all who attended and braved the often-bad weather to enjoy the massive metal spectacle. It was a bittersweet moment, as the 4 days flew by in a crazy blur and now were coming to an end.

Final Thoughts:

70000 Tons of Metal is an extremely well-organized and run event, and it was attended by a large assortment of metal fans who came to have a good time and make memories. I saw no fights, no really bad behavior (aside from certain band-related allegations), and was shocked that I saw so few people hammered into an alcoholic stupor. If you haven’t considered making the trip, you should. It can be pricey, but it’s an amazing time and unlike anything else you’ll ever experience. I went expecting it to be something you do once, but now I want to make it a yearly tradition. I highly recommend it, even if you only like half of the scheduled line-up. Thank you to the ever-amazing Madam X for organizing the trip for us and for being the best possible partner to share the insanity with. You complete me.

Funniest Moment:

-When Madam X and I were waiting for an elevator, one opened up, and standing right in front was Brian Ross of Satan. Madam X was star-struck and loudly exclaimed, “SATAN!” Mr. Ross smiled and waved.

-Everyone complaining there was no Kanonenfieber meet and greet.

Bands We Missed:

Vader and Saturnus were cursed with late-night slots we just couldn’t get to. We feel great shame.

Biggest Gripe:

The weird and draconian merch rules made even a simple viewing of the band’s wares a huge hassle.

Biggest Surprise:

I wasn’t even close to being the oldest person there!

Things I’ll Miss the Most: Those stupid little pizzas served at Sorrento’s. They aren’t much different from store-bought frozen pizza, but the stuff becomes addictive after eating it for a few days, like those dumplings in Old Boy.

Post Ship Depression Syndrome:

It’s a real thing. You feel out of sorts and miss the weird pacing and running between sets all day and night.

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At just over 35 minutes, In Perfect Stillness is composed of a mood-setting intro and 4 songs running between 7-9 minutes. With so little meat on the bone, the marrow had best be savory and memorable, and Domhain achieve that. First track proper “Talamh Lom” kicks off in highly Gothic realms with post-y cold trems ungirding Andy Ennis’ plaintive, forlorn clean singing. He lapses into harsh blackened croaks soon enough, and when things slow down, the sawing cello appears alongside sad, ethereal vocals from cellist/drummer Anaïs Chareyre. It’s a beautiful and poignant combination that keeps you listening attentively as the band moves between harsh and fragile, heavy and soft. There’s a beautiful flow to the music that carries you away to another place and makes you forget about the passage of time. There are slight touches of A Swarm of the Sun here alongside Darkest Era-esque moments, and there’s a vague Warning vibe in the music too. “Footsteps II” bears a strong resemblance to the moodier moments of Ghost Brigade and Deathwhite, which is an easy way to win me over as the sadboi feelz flow like hobo wine on Skid Row.

The title track brings strong Agalloch notes as downcast but furious black metal takes centerstage, and select moments remind me of Nechochwen as well. The way the ethereal female vocals pair with the blackened rasps is captivating and expertly done, creating a wealth of emotional resonance. The album’s high point arrives with the 9-plus-minute “My Tomb Beneath the Tide,” which is a gigantic dose of negative emotions delivered in a beautiful, beguiling package. Here, the post-black, melodoom, and atmospheric black metal ingredients coalesce into a potent brew that will make you feel things you might not want. There’s an epic scope to the song that recalls the best of Primordial, but I hear a lot of vintage Votum in the vocals, and the shifts from harsh to sullen and soft are very well-conceived and executed. This is easily my favorite song so far in 2026, and I can’t stop getting lost in the moods here. The production is quite good, but there’s a weird background static-hiss that leaks through at times, most noticeably on “My Tomb Beneath the Tide.” It’s a bit distracting, and I hoped it was just on the video, but it’s on the promo copy as well, which is unfortunate.

The vocal combination of Andy Ennis and Anaïs Chareyre pays major dividends across In Perfect Stillness. Ennis has a convincingly dour singing voice that conveys grief and despair, and his blackened rasps are equally powerful. When he leans more toward death roars, he reminds me a bit of Nick Holmes of Paradise Lost. The guitar work by Nathan Irvine and Bryn Boothby sets the dark, dreary tableau perfectly. The frantic, post-y trems and the savage blackened riffage deliver real impact, and their morose doom noodling and trilling captivate the ear. This is an ensemble that knows how to toy with the listener’s heart and mind, and over the too-short runtime, they have their way with you emotionally again and again.

Domhain have a great thing going here, and though it isn’t something entirely new, they stamp it with enough identity to make it their own. In Perfect Stillness is a short, sharp shock to the part of the brain that deals with feelings, and there’s a genuine, raw beauty to their music that sticks with you long after you step away. It’s the rare album I wish were longer, and I actually don’t want it to end when it does. That’s a sure sign that a band created something special. Hear this sooner rather than later, as it will make waves.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: These Hands Melt
Websites: domhain-band.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/domhain.band | instagram.com/domhain_band
Releases Worldwide: February 20, 2026

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Things open with the aforementioned “V.H.S.” which pays homage to all those “found footage” horror gems of the 90s and 00s while walking a fine line between an all-out thrash ethos and the over-the-top speed-power of Agent Steel. The guitar work is crisp, sharp, and reeks of early days Annihilator as frontman Tolis Mekras goes ALL in with his ample high-pitched vocal destruction. His enthusiasm and commitment to excess make the song all the more entertaining, especially as things speed up to the point where the band seems as if they’re losing control. After this jolt of high voltage, the pace dials back for the riffy and still quite zippy “Summoning the Dead,” before launching into the extra fun Agent Steel meets Savatage charge of “The Visitors,” which finds Tolis doing some Jon Oliva-esque oddball screams. This one is irresistible fun for one and all and I keep going back to it again and again.

The album’s big centerpiece is the 7-minute mega-epic “Children of the Beast,” where all restraint is jettisoned in favor of MOAR. Moar large scale vocals, moar guitar solos, more unchained emotions, moar of every fucking thing. And you know what? I like it! It rocks that same regal coolness that early Queensrÿche and Crimson Glory exuded back in the day, and it’s even more of a spectacle than Holdeneye at an $8 all-you-can-eat BBQ stand after a 3-day juice cleanse. Tolis delivers the goods with an emotionally-charged performance, building peaks and valleys as the guitar work impresses with its scope and scale. The last 2 minutes are like a rocket ride to Valhalla with an overserved Thor fighting a much drunker frost giant in the backseat while you’re trying to navigate, and you know that’s a good time! Elsewhere, “Crimson Eyes” sounds like something Sumerlands could have included on their debut, and “Something Wicked (This Way Comes)” sounds a whole lot like it fell off Agent Steel’s debut Skeptics Apocalyse. With no dead space or filler, the skinny 37-plus minutes of Violent Horror Stories is a fast-paced, high-octane spin with little getting in the way of a good time unless you struggle with high-register vocal antics.¹

Tolis Mekras is the center of the Leatherhead experience, with his impressive, if not always completely controlled, vocals injecting themselves into your ears like an overpowered mining laser. He reminds me of Arthur W. Andersson of Trial at some points, and Alpha Tiger’s Stephan Dietrich at others, but the main point of reference has to be the ever-mysterious John Cyriis of Agent Steel. As with any vocalist of this ilk, he’ll be a love or hate factor, and he’s sure to alienate those who want everyone to sound tired and listless at the mic. Keeping up with Tolis, guitar tandem Thanos Metalios and Jim Komninos bring Olympian thunder down with a never-ending stream of 80s-centric speed, thrash, and classic metal riffs loaded with big hooks. There’s a lot of Jeff Water-esque noodling and speed-pluckery in the material, and it makes me wish Waters was able to write songs this entertaining after 1990.

Violent Horror Stories sounds like a bunch of friends having an absolute blast making unhinged metal for the filthy masses. Leatherhead have chops and an ear for hooks, and you will be entertained by the glorious end product of their labors. This pairs well with bands like Ambush, so don the appropriate headgear, put this on blast, and start smashing your skull into the wall in the name of all things metal. You won’t be sorry, but you may be unconscious.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: No Remorse
Websites: leatherheadgr.bandcamp.com/album | facebook.com/leatherheadofficial | instagram.com/leatherhead_band
Releases Worldwide: February 13th, 2026

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Opener “Cremation of a Seraph” comes out blasting savagely before going full caverncore with scads of hideous trem-riffs that inspire menace and dread. This is the kind of relentlessly heavy, abrasive death metal that destabilizes your brain health, and it can peel the paint off the walls of whatever mental asylum you’re eventually confined in. Yes, their style will remind you of the genre bigs, and it’s hard to miss the influences as they slither up between the floorboards, but Fossilization is good at what they do, and this song will reduce your internal organs to pus paste. Better still is the ginormously mayhemic “Disentombed and Reassembled by the Ages,” which is like the mutated offspring of Bolt Thrower, Asphyx, and Hate Eternal, who’s been fed a steady diet of elephant steroids and military-grade bath salts. It’s fucking ugly, and I can’t get enough of this muck fuckery. The drums blast your face off as an unruly collection of skin-flaying riffs rip at you from all sides. It’s like a maelstrom of torment with no escape hatch. The tempos shift just when they should, offering doomy segments that make the faster parts bite all the harder. This is lethal shit.

While the remainder of Advent of Wounds is solid enough, nothing equals the sheer intensity of the first 2 cuts. “Scalded by His Sacred Halo” pummels and pounds away, only to drop a killer doom segment that will oppress your life and deathstyle. “While the Light Lasts” delivers an awkward, herky-jerky pace, and there’s a strong Novembers Doom vibe that I wouldn’t have expected, alongside some Phobocosm-y bits. It’s interesting, but it’s the least killer track present, and it drags toward the end. The problem I have as Advent unspools is that the merely good stuff makes me want to slap on some prime Incantation or Immolation instead. This is well-done material, but it’s close enough to the genre greats to appear the lesser for the comparisons. At a trim 35 minutes, though, it’s not a challenge to get through, and the fact that the songs are all kept in the 3-5 minute range helps the album’s flow. I like the production here, which gives the drums a primal impact, and the guitars exude the proper force and weight.

Masterminds V and Z deliver a truckload of vicious riffs that feel fierce and feral. The use of scathing trems is highly effective and adds a dark, dangerous edge to the material. A lot of these leads have a life of their own as they flop and slither on the cavern floor, instilling terror and revulsion. The vocals by V are appropriately raw, inhuman, and subterranean, providing ample awfulness to the already unpleasant soundscapes. The drums occasionally lapse into unusual patterns, and this can sound out of place, but it provides a little bit of a unique identity to the often overly familiar style Fossilization plies you with.

I’m a fan of the style heard on Advent of Wounds, and like Cherd before me, I think Fossilization have a lot of good things going on. However, I think their debut packs a bigger, more consistent impact than this one does. There are great moments here that speak of huge potential, but too much of the album is merely good. I’ll keep my eyes on these cretins because they have something potent developing. I just hope they can harness it more completely next time and really shake up my skeletal system. Worth a loud investigation.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Everlasting Spew
Websites: facebook.com/fossilization | instagram.com/fossilizationprocess
Releases Worldwide: February 13th, 2026

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Things open up effectively with the exuberant title track, which delivers all the classic metal goods and recalls Iron Maiden’s “Aces High” in subtle and unsubtle ways, especially in the lusty guitar noodling. The chorus is immediate and hooky and works as intended, and you will suffer involuntary fist-banging disorder as you prepare to strike at something at midnight. They manage to keep things in this winning window for much of the runtime with catchy tidbits like “Tears in the Rain,” which pays homage to the coolest lines from Blade Runner in appropriately big ways with a huge chorus, and the stupidly infectious “Dead Until Dark,” which rocks hard and rides free with a big Euro-power chorus that sticks like peanut butter mixed with Gorilla Glue. Some of the tracks punch above their weight and really win you over, like “Barren Lands and Seas of Red” and “Blood Sacrifice,” which thread that tiny needle between 80s metal and Euro-power to deliver hot guitar work and larger-than-life choruses.

Elsewhere, “Night Raids” reminds me of something off Human Fortress’s immortal Defenders of the Crown album, so that’s a win. Even the big, overwrought power ballad “War in Heaven” hits harder than you’d expect, sounding a bit like Primal Fear, though it does blunt the album’s momentum somewhat. Not every song is as clutch as the top dogs, and there is a minor bloat factor on a few songs, but no track feels like filler or an afterthought, and at 44 minutes, Midnight Blitz flies by like a gloaming onslaught. The production is a bit too clean, and I’d prefer more bite on the guitars, but you can hear everything the band does clearly.

Craig Cairns leads the air attack for Tailgunner, and he sounds more polished and professional here than he did on Guns for Hire. He no longer reminds me of Blaze Baley or Brian Ross of Satan, and his clear, commanding vocals skew more to a Euro-power style now, but there’s still enough grit to get the job done well. Much of the impact comes from guitarists Zach Salvini and Rhea Thompson. They rob the vaults of 80s metal wantonly while dabbling in various levels of Euro-cheese making, but never go too far down that rabbit hole to find the pirate shirts. There are ripping riffs, melodic harmonies, and overblown solos aplenty, and they keep the energy levels sky high for much of the runtime.

Midnight Blitz is a successful evolution of the Tailgunner sound. I might prefer the slightly more raucous sound of their debut, but what these cats do is still in the wheelhouse of Steel, and I eat it up like fruit leather and old Twinkies. If you like high-energy 80s metal designed to get the head nodding, Tailgunner is the caliber of act you should load up and blast. Fun will be had, and planes will be felled. It’s it’s a Midnight Blitz!

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: NA | Format Reviewed: Fucking Stream
Label: Napalm
Websites: tailgunner.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/tailgunnerhq | instagram.com/tailgunnerhq
Releases Worldwide: February 6th, 2026

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But we didn’t come here to praise Dave or Megadeth, we came to bury them (the latter anyway). Megadeth is allegedly the last album we’ll get from Dave’s passion project, and after 16 albums and a career of loud public living rife with infamously endless beefs, this finale will be both mourned and welcomed depending on where you sit on the spectrum of Megaopinions. Personally, I loved all the early days material, but I’ve run warm and cold on much of what came after Youthanasia. Even though I haven’t spent much time with Megadeth’s post-2000 output, I admit to feeling bittersweet emotions as their career arc finally comes to a close. I’ve even found myself going back through their discography and reminding myself what I loved, what I didn’t, and discovering several of their albums are better than remembered. I suspect I won’t be alone in doing so these next few weeks either.

Though I had planned to cover Megadeth myself, it began to feel like too big a moment in metal history to hoard for myself, so I reluctantly opened things up to a rowdy Rodeö of unwashed opinions from the filthy AMG staffers. Dave deserves his special day, and now it will be spent ringside at this cock and bully show. Brace for the full Mustaine experience: hot takes, bad taste, and tiny kernels of wisdom. Rodeös sell, but who’s buying?

–Steel Druhm

AMG Himself: It just seems so fitting that Dave Mustaine would want to get in the last word before retiring. My impression of the man has always been that of a cantankerous, moody, and ultimately difficult guy blessed with golden picking discipline and riffs coming out the wazoo. The mythology of Megadeth is, in a sense, told by the joke Steel Druhm has been making behind the scenes by referring to the band as Megadave. Yet, my jaundiced eye sees in Megadeth a story made up of the personnel Mustaine has worked with. It’s no surprise that when the band reached its initial peak of global acclaim, Dave was working with a genuine guitar virtuoso. Again, when Endgame exploded unexpectedly onto the scene—resulting in my youthful 4.5 rating—it was Chris Broderick who really made the record shine. Yes, of course, Dave has always had riffs, but Broderick executed with a flex and a grin. So, too, does Megadeth draw its real strength from Teemu Mäntysaari, whose genuine chops have carved him a niche as a professional second fiddle to crabby, unpredictable frontmen. Between Dave’s riffs and Teemu’s execution, Megadeth lands on its feet. With only one song I dislike (“I Don’t Care,” which is truly a stinker), the tone throughout Mustaine’s last dance is mid-paced, strongly melodic, surprisingly hooky, and has just enough swagger to remind you who you’re dealing with. Still, plodders like “Hey God!” and “Another Bad Day” are saved by great solos and interesting countermelodies. And when tracks do peak into thrashy Megadeth fare (“Made to Kill,” or the delightful “Let There Be Shred”), Hevisaurus’ shining light adds brilliance and creativity, raising the level across the board. That may seem like a backhanded compliment, but I think, rather, that it’s just fitting.¹ Dave gets one last go-round on his own terms—a thing he may well have thought would never happen—and we get to talk about the legacy of this legendary thrash pioneer. That’s a good outcome. – 3.0/5.0

Steel Druhm: Megadeth have been a semi-loyal companion since 1985. Over the decades, I loved, hated, and forgave them more than once. Now, after 41 years and 16 albums, Dave’s winding down his flying circus with the eponymously titled Megadeth. So where does the road end for the band that helped define thrash and gave metal its most mercurial leading man? Megadeth is an entertaining tour through the various eras of the band, with Dave being MegaDave. He’s older and wiser now, though, and smartly sticks to what he does well here. Opener “Tipping Point” is the best Megadeth song in years, with the band rediscovering the beefy thrash sound that’s been missing since Peace Sells. From there, Megadeth takes you through the many faces of Deth, from the annoyingly catchy cheeseball anthems like “I Don’t Care” and “Hey, God,” to the solo-heavy speed bombing of “Let There Be Shred.” There are some really good songs here, with only a few that don’t completely work. The album hits a stride late from “Made to Kill” onward. “Made” approaches vintage thrash levels, evoking a badass, nostalgic energy. “I Am the War” is blunt, burly shit, and closer “The Last Note” delivers Dave’s sneering signoff in grand form. It’s an appropriate exit for a pioneer and legend. Dave’s renewed focus on what he does best pays dividends as he crafts an album’s worth of decent to very good songs with moments that remind me, oddly enough, of classic Metallica. Speaking of which, I even like the bonus cover of “Ride the Lightning” more than expected. The fretboard pyrotechnics between Dave and Wintersun‘s Teemu Mäntysaari are hot and noodly, with scads of smoking riffs and solos in every nook and cranny. As his killing business is shuttered for good, Dave leaves behind a legitimately entertaining album, and it’s nice to see him go out on a high note. Goodbye to Vic Rattlehead and company. Thanks for the memories and the music. I can’t wait for the project with Jason Newsted called Fuck You, Lars!² 3.0/5.0

Saunders: I’m saddling up for this high-profile rodeo special as a rank Megadeth novice. Due to cutting my teeth as a metalhead on other influential old school thrash bands of the era, Megadeth’s blockbuster career largely slipped by me. I gradually developed a strong appreciation of their selected early albums, largely overlooking much of MegaDave’s tumultuous career path of the past couple of decades. Megadeth’s seventeenth and final album, a fittingly self-titled effort, finds Mustaine rallying his troops for one last go-around. Mustaine and his accomplished brigade of hired guns get back to basics, peeling off a warts-and-all, weathered, yet undeniably energetic swansong. Minus the bonus track, Megadeth clocks a refreshingly lean 41 minutes and comes packed with a decent grab bag of catchy anthems, crunchy riffs and often inspired shredding from Mustaine and co-axeman Teemu Mäntysaari. However, expectations should be tempered; this is not exactly a callback to their classic era, but rather a fun romp as feisty geezer thrash and anthemic hard rock collide. Featuring punchy, high-octane thrashers (“Tipping Point,” “Made to Kill”), big dumb fretboard frying jams (“Let there Be Shred,” “Obey the Call”), hooky mid-paced rockers (“Puppet Parade,” “I Am War”), and an unsubtle sentimental farewell (‘The Last Note”), enough fuel burns in the tank to offset the album’s weaker moments and missteps. Dave’s trademark punkish snarl sounds in good form, albeit crippled by simplistic and often hamfisted lyrics, including the worst offenders, “I Don’t Care” and “Another Bad Day.” Regardless, Megadeth could have wound up an overcooked, indulgent mess, rife with questionable ideas and ill-advised risk. Although lyrically, it’s often clunky, leave your brain at the door fare, Mustaine and co. sign off with a respectable collection of infectious, no-frills tunes, providing reasonably satisfying closure for longtime fans. 3.0/5.0.

Holdeneye: As long as I’ve liked metal, I’ve had a soft spot for Dave Mustaine and Megadeth. I mean, can you have a more comic-book-villain-origin-story beginning than this band? Yeah, Dave has routinely proven himself to be a megadick, but maybe it’s his unabashed commitment to being nothing other than himself that brings a smile to my face whenever I see him (it was fun to see him play the role of Max Mayfield in Stranger Things). Megadeth was one of my first deep discography dives when I’d officially sworn my vow of un-silence to metal, and the punky swagger into which Dave dipped his thrash has always hit the spot for me. I consider Endgame to be one of the band’s finest moments, but I’ve been rather disappointed with much of Megadeth’s most recent output. In fact, I don’t think I ever even listened to 2022’s The Sick, The Dying… and the Dead!. So imagine my surprise upon hearing the band’s self-titled swan song for the first time. As soon as the first real thrash riff hit on opener “Tipping Point,” I was sold. There’s not a bad song on Megadeth, and there are even a couple of great ones. I don’t even mind Dave’s version of “Ride the Lightning,” but I wish he’d recorded it 40 years ago—I can only imagine how the piss and vinegar would have flowed! Overall, Megadeth is a worthy sendoff for Megadeth. I didn’t realize how hard it would be to say goodbye to one of metal’s favorite heels, but here I am. Thanks, Dave, for giving us some killer records and for meting out the punishment we’ve all been due. 3.0/5.0

Dolphin Whisperer: I don’t care about Dave writing rock licks. I don’t care about a new guitarist. I don’t care about Megadeth playing old tricks. I don’t care—I just want some thrash hits! That’s been my mantra for a new Megadeth album since I can remember, as I didn’t come of age in the glory days of thrash. Post the release of Endgame, I’ve been wondering, with caution, whether each successive album would bookend in lacking the style of the Megadeth catalog. For better or worse, Megadeth gives about as fitting a farewell as Mustaine can manage at this juncture. Between flaccid-mic spats of straight-to-VHS quality camp (“I Don’t Care,” “Let There Be Shred”), Honest Dave emerges in both an aching humility (“Hey God!”) and tattered bravado (“Puppet Parade,” “The Last Note”). Over forty years, seventeen albums, and an undeniable mark on metal history, it can be hard to view Mustaine as the working-class underdog that he continues to wear across character pieces (“Puppet Parade,” “Another Bad Day”). But at least Megadeth doesn’t hammer heavy any ham-fisted conspiracies or stay in any one place too long. Yet, for every moment that Hevisaurus wunderkind Teemu Mäntysaari saves with an interjecting, slippery neoclassical lead, Mustaine sputters in—no nuance, all withered-face exasperation—about how upset he is, how much he doesn’t care, or how life has worn him down. Much of the riff-base, in similar slogging fashion, feels caught in middling churn of not-quite-thrash but heavier-than-rock pomp of Youthanasia or Cryptic Writings-era works, though an aged punkiness presents itself in refreshing ways, if not always enjoyable (“Tipping Point,” “I Don’t Care,” “Obey the Call”). In his determination to disappear from the limelight, Mustaine’s cobbled comfort sells Megadeth as Megadeth in a manner that will leave fans not upset, not enthralled, but at an expected ease with the curtain drawn to a close. 2.5/5.0.

Thyme: Megadeth has been an integral part of my metal upbringing, so to say it was easy gathering my thoughts on their eponymous last album, let alone the band itself, would be a lie. At times insufferable, yet ever unapologetic, Dave Mustaine has always seemed like the Frank Sinatra of heavy metal to me. Why? Because he has always done shit his way. And, as the man prepares to shutter a chapter of his life over four decades in the making, I’m happy to report Megadeth is going out on a high note. Megadeth has a little bit of everything: the straight-up thrashers (“Tipping Point,” “Let There Be Shred,” “Made to Kill”), the bruisers (“Obey the Call”), the melodious (“Puppet Parade”), the introspective (“Hey God!), and the reflective (“The Last Note”), which I’d be lying again if I said that last track didn’t have me a little misty-eyed. Even “Ride the Lightning,” though no “Mechanix,” works well as a bonus track. Further illustrating Dave’s knack for great guitarist collabs, Teemu Mäntysaari (Wintersun) is a breath of fresh air, masterfully shredding and noodling his way across Megadeth’s very digestible forty-seven minutes. I’m a little sad we won’t get more Teemu-deth, to be honest. Verbeuren’s skinwork shines again, while a trio of bassists (LoMenzo, DiGiorgio, and Rakestraw) capably fill the low end of this Mustaine/Rakestraw production, which sounds great, landing sonically between Countdown and Youthanasia. It’s no Peace Sells, but it doesn’t have to be. For a man who’s survived addiction, a potential career-ending injury, and cancer(!), I think Dave’s earned the right to lay down his guitar. Time, as we know, waits for no man. While it will be weird living in a world without Megadeth, I’ll cherish the music and memories. Thanks, Dave. I can’t wait to catch you on the road one… last… time… 3.0/5.0

ClarkKent: After 43 years in the biz, Megadeth is sadly calling it quits, but at least they’re going out with a bang. Megadeth is fresh, energetic, and disciplined in ways the big four haven’t sounded in some time. The thrash cuts “Tipping Point” and “Let There Be Shred” don’t sound like a decades-old band trying to stay relevant. They sound like a vigorous young band carrying a swagger and a chip on their shoulder. Megadeth provides equal measures of pure thrash and melodic heavy metal, but keeps everything to a tight 3-4 minutes (at least until the final two tracks). Dave Mustaine proves a capable storyteller, with lyrics that feel personal and autobiographical. There’s the confessional “Hey God!” turning to his relationship with religion; “Puppet Parade,” my personal favorite, looking back at his struggles with alcoholism; the tongue-in-cheek “Let There Be Shred” building up a heavy metal mythos around Dave; and finally “The Last Note” giving fans a fond farewell. The latter also provides a rather poignant summary of his career: “I came, I saw, now I disappear.” It’s true that not all songs land, such as “I Don’t Care,” with lyrics that sound like a defiant adolescent wrote them, and the middling “Obey the Call,” which lacks any memorable hooks. “Ride the Lightning” also sounds too similar to its source, but at least it provides Dave with closure over his feud with Metallica. As sad as I am to see Dave hang it up, thankfully, he provides one final thrill in the Megadeth discography. 3.5/5.0

Owlswald: As Dave Mustaine closes the book on his legendary career, Megadeth’s swan song makes it clear that Mustaine intends to leave the same way he entered: loud and unmistakably himself. The self-titled record starts hot with “Tipping Point,” a fast, grinding riff assault that recalls Megadeth’s classic openers. “Let There Be Shred” leans into old-school speed metal while “I Don’t Care” delivers its punk-ish energy despite terrible lyrics. New guitarist Teemu Mäntysaari steps seamlessly into the void left by Kiko Loureiro, immediately asserting himself with playful solos, sweeping leads, and fretboard fireworks that stretch his guitar to the limit. Dirk Verbeuren remains rock‑solid, delivering galloping rhythms with sharp tom rolls and double-bass that echo Nick Menza’s punishing style. “Puppet Parade” nods to both Cryptic Writings and Countdown to Extinction, evoking “Almost Honest” in its opening and “Foreclosure of a Dream” in its clean bridge. Mustaine’s gruff, sneering delivery is classic Megadeth here—very “Sweating Bullets”—even though the chorus doesn’t land. The record stumbles temporarily with “Another Bad Day,” a forgettable rocker dragged down by weak songwriting and more bad lyrics, and “I Am War,” which feels generic and overly reliant on thin vocal hooks. But “Obey the Call” and “Made to Kill” fare better, with Mustaine returning to his lower register that fits more naturally within the outstanding instrumental performances. The finale turns somber. “The Last Note” finds Mustaine confronting his legacy and the approaching end of his career, followed by an unnecessary cover of “Ride the Lightning”—a final smirk³at his long history with Metallica. Flawed but unexpectedly solid, Megadeth’s final album plays like an autobiographical reflection from a metal legend. It’s hard to ask for much more at this point and is a worthy send-off. Good.

Grin Reaper: Going out on your own terms is not a decision every band gets to make, and when the news broke that Megadeth would hang up the ol’ guitar strap, the news struck bittersweet. Dave Mustaine and his revolving cast of support have been steady companions through my major milestones, providing a symphony for construction as I assembled my adult life. But what can you expect from Megadeth’s last words? Megadeth is, most of all, a celebration. Seventeen albums over forty years deserve a bit of revelry, especially considering the heights of Megadeth’s career. Though Megadeth doesn’t threaten to dethrone their best material, it’s a major success for latter-day Deth and boasts concise track lengths and carefree fun. Most importantly, the mantra of “Let There Be Shred” isn’t limited to just that song as Dave and Teemu Mäntysaari (Wintersun) trade fiery leads throughout (“Tipping Point,” “Made to Kill”). Dirk Verbeuren once again avails himself behind the kit, effortlessly pummeling with mechanized precision (“Tipping Point”) and snappy punk rolls (“I Don’t Care”). Though I would prefer another technical smorgasbord à la Rust in Peace, there’s a fair offering of mid-paced tracks more in line with the Youthanasia and Cryptic Writings school of radio-friendly jams (“Hey God!,” “Another Bad Day,” “Obey the Call”). Songs like these are among my least favorite on Megadeth, but credit to Dave—they’re short and feel genuine. The honesty of Megadeth’s curtain call is a final triumph, a fist raised in the air signifying that after a career of proving to listeners and himself that he earned his place in the pantheon of metal, Dave Mustaine gets to end his game his way. May he retire in peace—now go rattle your goddamn head! So Far, So Good!

Baguette of Bodom: After the massive disappointment that was The Sick… and the embarrassing hilarity of “I Don’t Care” earning meme status, I was prepared for a real stinker. But it was not meant to be, for Megadeth’s self-titled swan song surprised shockingly. Do not expect a fast-paced thrasher, though; this last hurrah harkens back to various eras of the band, mostly the better ones even! While there’s a bit of Killing… and Rust in Peace in “Made to Kill,” many songs here resemble the simpler but effective ethos of Countdown. Tasty, melodic ’90s lead guitar hooks (“Another Bad Day,” “I Am War”) result in Mustaine occasionally sounding the best he has since Thirteen, and Dirk Verbeuren’s drums deliver plenty of fun fills throughout (“Made to Kill,” “Hey God!”). Teemu Mäntysaari is clearly the star of the show. He complements Dave’s playing with classic ‘Deth tones, and I’m glad his tasteful riff and shred craft have a place to truly shine front and center (“Puppet Parade,” “Let There Be Shred”). Despite a rough opening duo, the record recovers quickly, with the back half being particularly impressive for a band I had largely given up on. Overall, Megadeth is a solid Dystopia-tier album in a tight 41-minute package. It won’t make any respectable year-end lists, but I’m glad this long and mightily uneven career ends on a positive note, except for the tacked-on “Ride the Lightning” bonus. It’s a decent enough rendition of a decent enough song,⁴ but why hold a grudge over young and stupid egos for 40 years? It’s not even faster or angrier, which used to be the selling point. “Mechanix” made “The Four Horsemen” better; this one makes a great opening riff worse. Take relationship counseling notes from Helloween. – 3.0/5.0

Double Bonus Megaopinions from Infamous Former Staffers:

Doc Fisting: In an era where no band ever truly stops, I approach Megadeth’s impending retirement with an apprehensive sense of closure. If Dave Mustaine feels that this album is his last, he’ll get no argument from me whatsoever. The songwriting is weak throughout Megadeth, often feeling like mismatched parts forced together on some producer’s laptop. The lyrics aren’t much better, ranging from good ideas executed poorly (“Puppet Parade”) to steaming hot garbage (“I Don’t Care,” ”Let There Be Shred”). A few tracks approach classic Megadeth’s speed, if not its quality, but much of the record goes by at a Cryptic Writings-esque midtempo pace. Even compared to Megadeth’s last couple of albums, this one feels especially low-effort and low-energy. Mustaine’s ability to craft memorable guitar parts seems to have departed, as nothing here shows a trace of the creativity or technical skill he was once known for. Time has sandblasted his vocal range down to almost nothing, and he relies heavily on his “hello me, it’s me again” shtick as a result. Closing track “The Last Note” crosses the line into self-parody, closing the band’s career on a low note.* New guitarist Teemu Mäntysaari attempts to patch the holes, delivering ripping solos where riffs or vocal hooks belong. Drummer Dirk Verbueren similarly tries to inject some Gar Samuelson-style energy. Unfortunately, the material here doesn’t give them much to work with. Make no mistake — Dave Mustaine is one of the architects of thrash metal, and deserves credit for it (just ask him). His contributions to the genre from 1983 through 1991 are essential, and nothing can take that away. But Megadeth feels less like a triumphant farewell and more like a necessary one.⁵ 1.5/5.0

Ferrous Beuller: The end is nigh. Time to Ragnarockoutwithyour”Glock”out for that final full stop in the Apocellipsis. After 40-plus years, Megadeth have bowed out with a final self-titled trip down the riff river. What does this mean? It means another release that is indistinguishable from every post-Youthanasia Megadeth album. For decades, Mustaine has released self-derivative records whose highlights might occasionally tickle a playlist. Megadeth does not deviate from this formula. If you’re hoping for a grab bag of sanitised thrash riffs and intangible mid-pacers, then you’re in luck. But make no mistake, this is not Risk. Those particularly fond of albums like Cryptic Warnings or even Th1rt3en will find something to like here. Dave can surely write this kind of material with his eyes closed by now, and it shows. It feels rote because, by this point, that’s exactly what Mustaine’s creativity has become. As just another Megadeth album, this is as redundant as the irrelevant marketing strategy Metallica cover. As a goodbye, Mustaine has always done things his way, so I guess this, too, is by design. Decades of treading tepid water can never change the fact that Megadeth embodies a foundation of metal. This swan song won’t sully that reputation. But, given the finality of it all, I can’t help but wonder what might have been. Well, Megadeth, thanks for the memories. Someday, other bands will know your pain, but few will smile that once-black-toothed grin. May you rust in peace disgracefully. If anyone needs me, I’ll be busy pretending they split after 1994. 2.0/5.0

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After a throwaway intro, “Celestial Veil” comes in to mop the floor with your emotions with a vulgar display of poignant Gothic doom. It has strong similarities to the classic Black Sun Aeon and Dawn of Solace playbook of Tuomas Saukkonen, with weepy guitar lines and plaintive clean singing designed to fill your heart with grief. The chorus is so perfect and gripping that you can’t unhear it after one exposure. And the most amazing part? It’s relatively short at just over 6 minutes! “It All Ends” is even shorter and carries the torch of despondency with another downcast paean to misery that’s emotive, morbid, and catchy, with a killer chorus designed to stick like a prison shank.

The hits keep coming on “Bleeding into Light,” which milks the band’s streamlined template for all its worth. It’s simple but uber-memorable, part Goth rock and part doom. It works a charm, and it’s so easy to listen to as it hollows out your soul. The big surprise comes with “Casting Down Shadows,” where the band takes their core approach and layers it with epical Middle Eastern symphonics to arrive at something grandiose like a doom version of Led Zeppelin’s immortal “Kashmir.” It creates a strange hypnotic effect, and you lose yourself in the haze of time and space. It’s a really interesting song and shows a side of The Eternal that I want to hear more of. Things round out with “Everlasting MMXXVI,” a remix of a track off their 2004 Sleep of Reason album. It works here, and though the overall style is more stripped-down and Goth rock-based. These shorter style cuts remind me of the early stuff from Deathwhite, and that’s a good thing.

The Eternal know how to nail their chosen style to the wall, giving the Gothic/melodoom fan everything they could want. Mark Kelson’s vocals are perfect for this kind of dour doom, and he sells negative emotions by the truckload without having to strain or contort his voice to get the point across. His sullen crooning is beguiling, and when he steps the urgency up, things really pop. Kelson and Richie Poate are a potent guitar tandem, often keeping things minimalist while crafting classic Goth/melodoom harmonies that remind of what Greg Macintosh (Paradise Lost) does so well. Their playing is the mortuary drape that covers everything in cold hopelessness. This isn’t the most flashy of bands musically, but they don’t need to be to ensnare and bewitch you.

In my review for Skinwalker, I wrote, “If they ever learn to resist their fatter angels, they’ll drop a magnum opus that will shake the heavens.” Here we find The Eternal associating with angels on Ozempic, and the results are impressive indeed. I’m anxious to see if Celestial is indicative of where the band is heading. I’m fully on board if that’s the case, and if not, I can deal with the zaftig angels too. I’m easy when the doom is this sexy.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Reigning Phoenix
Websites: the-eternal.com | facebook.com/theeternal | instagram.com/theeternalofficial
Releases Worldwide: January 16th, 2026

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Evolutionary phases aside, Kreator kicks Krushers off with a few major bangers of note. Opener “Seven Serpents” begins with a regal and stately guitar line before the shit hits the fan and 80s era Kreator rises from the past to murder you with thrashing barbarity. There’s a Extreme Aggression vibe to the wild riffage, and the animal ferocity is a joy to hear, but there’s a power metal vibe present too. Mille chanting “Snakes in human form” hits some primordial lizard brain pleasure center, and the chorus is slick, epical, and effective. This kind of cut is why Kreator have remained relevant throughout time, tides, and trends, and it’s great to hear them this dynamic so late in their career of evil. “Satanic Anarchy” is just as impressive, though it gets there in a different way. It’s burly thrash up front, and then a huge, anthemic, and earworm-y chorus that sticks in more places than Crazy Glue® spilled on the set of a 1970s porno. This one got relocated to my lifting playlist immediately, and there it will aid me in great apexpectations. “Tränenpalast” dials things back to the moody, Goth-isms of Endorama as the band dive headlong into the occult, and Mille is joined in by Britta Görtz of Hiraes for a deadly duet. It’s a badass song with another winning chorus, and Görtz adds a decent death metal snarl as a counterpoint to Mille’s thrash bark.

Other high points include the fierce thrash attack of “Blood of Our Blood,” which benefits from classic Kreator riffs, big anthemic sections, arena-ready guitar work, and a scorching solo; and “Combatants,” which provides beefy riffs and loads of classic metal magic crammed together in an uber-slick package. Closer “Loyal to the Grave” is also endearing with its “you are one with Kreator” theme. Even the oddball title track with its unusual Paradise Lost-meets-Godflesh vibe works better than it should. Cuts like “Barbarian” and “Psychotic Imperator” are solid thrashers, but a touch on the generic side. At 46 minutes, Krushers doesn’t feel overly long; the songs are all fairly short and tightly constructed, and the hooks are prevalent. This is when Kreator’s style really shines.

Mille and Sami Yli-Sirniö deliver plenty of hefty thrash riffs that recall various eras of the band, and they decorate the songs with a wealth of classic heavy metal ideas to smooth and round out the sound. Kreator do this better than most bands their age, mellowing the edges of their classic harshness without overly diluting the product. The guitar work is the main draw here, with most of the tracks containing interesting ideas, memorable refrains, and a real attention to detail that makes the music pop, especially at solo time. Mille’s vocals are still powerful and venomous, and it’s impressive how forceful he sounds after so long in the throat destruction game.¹ Original drummer Ventor pounds away as relentlessly as ever, a thunderous force to drive the songs through you like a rail gun projectile. The Kreator sound is still there after all these years, even if it gets gussied up with lighter moments occasionally.

Krushers of the World is a very good Kreator album with several huge moments, and it’s more of a thrash album than the last few releases. It’s considerably better than 2022s Hate Über Alles, and it shows these fiends can still bring the wiolence and force in large doses. Buy with confidence and get yourself properly krushed the Germanic way.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Nuclear Blast
Websites: kreator-terrorzone.de | facebook.com/kreatorofficial | instagram.com/kreatorofficial
Releases Worldwide: January 16th, 2026

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