“I’ll take “Global Notables” for $600, please, Ken—The clue: Country famous for its waffles, chocolate, beer, and castles. The answer—What is Belgium?! Correct! Belgium is also home to some pretty decent black metal bands—Lugubrum, Enthroned, and Wiegedood, to name a few. Here to add another branch to that blackened Belgian family tree is Erbeet Azhak, the side project of one pretty busy Corvus von Burtle—C.V.B.(Cult of Erinyes, Wolvennest, LVTHN, Aerdryk).” Belgium bulging with blackness.
“One of the biggest challenges I’ve encountered as a music reviewer is trying to describe a band’s musical aesthetic when their discography is all over the place. Now, I know what you’re thinking: Blut Aus Nord, and you would be correct, but at least there’s an intangible thread connecting the various gnarled branches to their undulating, pulsing roots. Vaarwel, the mastermind and sole proprietor of Russia’s Frozen Ocean, takes his project to where it needs to be, and how he feels it should be delivered, musically.” Oceans of despair and dread.
“You might, as I did, roll your eyes humorously at the recurrence of the “‘v’ as ‘u'” trope in the name Sanctvs, which could suggest overeager posturing, especially once you learn that this is a solo project. But Xavier Berthiaume—the one behind Sanctvs—is no noob; he’s the drummer for both Atramentus and Oriflamme, as well as one half of occult/Kabbalistic black metal act Gevurah.” V. No U.
Dolphin Whisper and Thus Spoke get their time to shine with their Top Ten(ish) of 2025. Brace for weirdness!
Alekhines Gun, ClarkKent and Owlswald came out of the deep freeze to have a busy 2025. Now they get Big Boy Top Ten(ish) lists and things are getting real.
The AMG Staff Lists are ready for review, examination, and ultimately, rejection.
“Dense, dark, and demented, Lychgate’s Precipice breaks nearly six years of silence with music as unsettling as the concept it’s built upon. The album’s primary inspiration draws from E. M. Forster’s short story “The Machine Stops,” a dystopian tale first published in 1909 that cautions against over-reliance on technology. In it, The Machine enables people to govern their lives from isolated chambers, interacting virtually rather than in person after the Earth’s surface becomes uninhabitable. Integrating notions such as blind obedience to technology, instantaneous communication, and climate change furnishes a lavish backdrop for London’s Lychgate and their fourth LP.” Throw open the gate!
“Back in August, I went goo-goo over an avant-black duo under Transcending Obscurity called Hexrot and, as a lowly N00b, awarded their debut Formless Ruin of Oblivion a “Great” designation. Flash forward, and sloshing through the promo sump comes an avant-black duo under Transcending Obscurity called Death Obvious, offering their self-titled debut. Composed of vocalist Lea Lavey and everything-else-er Sima Sioux, this Finnish duo reveal high aspirations with claims of “crafting music as it suits their demented vision in a recklessly intuitive manner” while pitching Death Obvious for fans of visionary acts like Blut aus Nord, Deathspell Omega, Veilburner and—looky!—Hexrot.” Sump struggles.
“Sometimes it’s all a question of perspective. Among the most prominent and influential of French black metal, the sometimes-solo-project-sometimes-three-piece entity known as Blut Aus Nord have manifested four or five entirely different versions of themselves over the last thirty(!) years. Occasionally, their albums are released in sets of connected sounds and themes, and other times you can be exposed to one idea you fall in love with, only for the band to pivot away into something new and unexpected; imagine the surprise fans of Fathers of the Icy Age must have felt first hearing The Work Which Transforms God. We are now at album sixteen, and the question isn’t as much “is this gonna be any good” as much as “which band is showing up today?”” Blut is going on here??
“Sometimes, you catch a glint from deep within the festering promo heap and you know exactly what kind of beast you’re about to prod. Strigiform’s debut, Aconite, radiates the unmistakable stench of “I, Voidhanger-core”—that wonderfully cursed strain of aural decimation that critics slobber over while normal metalheads back away slowly, usually on smaller wierdo labels like I, Voidhanger or Transcending Obscurity. Think along the lines of AMG darlings from this year like Hexrot, Patristic and Ritual Ascension.” Voidbanger.
