Simulacre fits neatly – if powerfully – into the cavernous style of death metal, exemplifying the new school of the old school. In this way, Décryptal strongly recall Phrenelith. Everything about the album is bruising. From the burly guitar grooves to the battering drums, to the guttural growls, to the meaty production, it feels like proper death metal. It prioritizes fat rhythms above shredding melodies, with the chunky guitars, bass, and drums offering a thunderous accompaniment to everything that happens. And even if the riffs and performances already conveyed the sense of a pungent vaulted cave system, the production wraps all this into something pitch-black and haunting. I love how the rounded drums, thumping bass, and jagged guitar edges create a void of hope.

Besides the album’s overall aesthetic and the atmospheric production, it’s hard to argue that Simulacre’s strongest quality isn’t its guitar leads. The release is stuffed full of undeniable riffs. My highlight is the passage from 3:20 on “Horde d’Invertébrés” or “Dendrites.” I’m unclear which, because these two tracks are the same on my review copy, leaving me to assume that there’s also a corresponding track missing. In either case, the riff checks every box I want a death metal riff to check: groovy, meaty, driving, and headbangable. The guy who wrote it deserves to dine out on its quality for a substantial period. Likewise, the lead that commences at 1:10 on “Flétrissement” offers a compelling blend of bludgeoning brutality and scything sharpness. Though Décryptal like to smash more than they like to slice, they’re capable of swapping their hammers for knives when the situation demands it. And while things never descend into Incantation death/doom territory, the band also enjoys slowing the tempo into passages with thick, doomy leads (“Zisurru,” for example).

You may question where Simulacre falters. The songs are consistently good, but also feel like they are constituted from various great riffs haphazardly arranged. Décryptal don’t sound as if they were especially focused on meaningful, coherent song construction. You can hit play from anywhere throughout and immediately have fun, but you could also switch around many passages without feeling like much has changed. This undermines the album as a unique art form, intended as a deliberate arrangement of songs in a particular order. This is compounded by the songwriting, which is robust but predictable. There are no surprises here as everything is exactly what you expect it to be. Variety, or moments of true inspiration, are thin on the ground. Part of this sense that there’s little to truly stand out is that the shredding guitar solos are relatively buried compared with the punchy rhythms. I understand that the band is plumping for a thick, murky tone, but louder solos would help to break up the songs if they were mixed higher.

Dissecting Simulacre exposes a Décryptal that’s already brushing up against the bands that influence them; though it may not be as innovative or exciting as those bands once were, it’s a remarkably good execution of cavern-core death metal. While stylistically brutal, there’s no shortage of technicality; it’s just that the band rightly prioritizes power above showmanship. Simulacre isn’t perfect, but could be the start of a Very Good Thing.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps MP3
Label: Me Saco Un Ojo Records
Websites: decryptal.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/decryptal
Releases Worldwide: July 11th, 2025

The post Décryptal – Simulacre Review appeared first on Angry Metal Guy.

Nad Sylvan

On first listen, you’d be forgiven for thinking Sylvan had simplified his songwriting. But on subsequent listens, you’d learn that his hand has instead become more subtle and less ‘progressive.’ The songs on Monumentata are shorter, streamlined, and linear, featuring a poppy cadence. But they still draw from a blend of influences, this time encompassing prog and alt rock, funk, and jazz. And there’s a tangible texture and depth to their compositions. “That’s Not Me” benefits from lively counter-pointing keyboard and guitar melodies, and I love the mini-crescendo from 2:45 on “Monte Carlo Priceless” as Sylvan’s vocals escalate amid the loudening drums and delicate streams of electric guitar. Likewise, “Flowerland” clashes layers of vocal counter-melodies into a climactic finale. It feels like the thinking man’s pop, similar to but nothing like Tears for Fears. Sylvan is proven not just an excellent instrumentalist but an accomplished composer. Monumentata sounds simple on first listen, but there are layers behind that simplicity and the more you listen, the more you hear.

Sylvan ordinarily oozes nerdiness, but here he oozes cool. As much as I love progressive rock, so often it’s overwrought and feels like the product of a significant effort. But on Monumentata, his songwriting has never felt so slick or effortless. Both “Secret Love” and “That’s Not Me” open the record with sharp, crunchy leads, prioritizing The Riff in a way that he hasn’t previously. Even when those riffs morph into something more technical, befitting a writer grounded in prog, they complement the passages they fit into. While swooshing synths and the piano bulk out the songs’ textures, Sylvan focuses here on guitar and vocal melodies. And though his bluesy, nasally voice has always been his signature, prominently layering this at the top of the mix indicates a man completely at ease with himself. The songs still revolve around the recognizably melodramatic stories, but they’re more comfortable and easier to enjoy. It’s the sound of a man with swagger in his stride.

But above all, Monumentata succeeds because it converges around memorable, individualistic songs. Each has a clear style and hook that separates it from the remainder. “Secret Lover” and “That’s Not Me” demonstrate a newfound interest in guitar riffs, while “Monte Carlo Priceless” pursues a beautifully serene tone. Meanwhile, “Wildfire” has a grand chorus and operates as the album’s fulcrum. “Make Somebody Proud” is jazzy. “I’m Stepping Out” is funky. “Monumentata” is exquisitely mournful. Each track has a place in the album’s flow (even if not every song is great; “I’m Stepping Out” is an obvious weakness). Monumentata feels like a return to the variety of Sylvan’s vampire trilogy because while Spiritus Mundi was more tonally steady, it wasn’t as good. The corresponding weakness with this approach is that this record doesn’t always feel very consistent or cohesive. Nonetheless, it remains hard to deny a release that collects good songs.

2025 sees Sylvan hitting a rich vein of form as Monumentata is enjoyably melodic and slickly composed. Though it takes repetition for the hooks to sink in and for the intricate compositions to reveal themselves, the music is so slick that my criticisms easily wash off. It invokes a mild sense of wonder and joy. It’s not a record designed to hit the joy receptors within seconds, but it is a record that generates more joy the more time you spend with it. Experimental rock and pop fans will surely find plenty to enjoy here.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 11 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps MP3
Label: Inside Out Music
Websites: nadsylvan.com | facebook.com/nadsylvan
Releases Worldwide: June 27th, 2025

The post Nad Sylvan – Monumentata Review appeared first on Angry Metal Guy.

At its core, Under the Spell blends blackened shouts, wailing vibratos, crunchy guitars, and vibrant riffs into energetic speed metal. Despite the heaviness derived from the grimy instrumental tones and unrelenting pace, the melodies are so upbeat that they almost sound happy. And although the songs sometimes lack the brevity that might benefit them, I admire their directness. Focused songwriting prioritizes the fastest route from guitar lead to guitar lead, and there are few moments on the album that aren’t trying to be big, loud, and boisterous. On “Turning the Wheel of Steel” – coincidentally, how Steel Druhm describes himself becoming aroused – the harmonized lead is a highlight and refrain to which the song regularly returns. Likewise, the key change to a higher octave at 3:10, underpinned by a slowing rhythm, partitions the song into two halves and accentuates the ensuing solo. Morbyda target maximalism.

The production packages the Under the Spell sound into something fairly chaotic and lo-fi. This would be my ordinary preference, especially for black/speed metal, but here it’s so roughshod that there are unfortunate consequences. The muddy rhythm section is the prime suspect, filling the middle of the sound stage with drums and bass that are poorly defined. This not only obscures the instrumental skill of the respective performers; it also obscures the second guitarist and distinctiveness of the riffs. The riffs are generally good, but the poorly defined mix results in many sounding the same. This results in a release where, once you’ve heard a couple of the tracks, you’ve heard them all. Sonic consistency is a given on a cohesive record, but this creeps into a uniformity that undermines the divisions between songs. By contrast, moments where the soundstage clears to expose fewer instruments – like the transition around 1:50 on “Mother of Decay” – my attention is grabbed once more.

Under the Spell is most enjoyable when its songs are restricted to a shorter duration; the three shortest are some of the best. “Evil” offers a speedy and robust introduction, “The Curse” is uniquely boisterous on a boisterous album, and “Sacrifice” benefits from a spidery lead that’s both technical and atmospheric. Accordingly, the three tracks that approach or exceed six minutes suffer the most from the length. And beyond sheer time consumed, Morbyda struggle to arrange the longer tracks in a sophisticated manner. The transition from a slower instrumental passage to the frenzied solo at 3:55 on “Mother of Decay” is jarring and representative of transitions that are just as roughshod as the production. Likewise, this same track closes with a guitar solo that simply stops. The album is the product of an enthusiastic group trying to stitch together enthusiastic songs, but their enthusiasm exceeds their compositional abilities.

I’ve struggled to score Under the Spell. I have numerous gripes, from the muddy production to the monotonous song-writing to the clunky arrangements. And yet my over-arching response is still one that’s reasonably positive. You might expect imperfections from a young band figuring out their sound, and Morbyda have a bouncy, entertaining quality. There are ultimately too many obstacles to reach a ‘good’ rating, but I’ll be tracking the progress of these Germans with interest.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps MP3
Label: Dying Victims Productions
Website: morbyda.bandcamp.com
Releases Worldwide: June 20th, 2025

The post Morbyda – Under the Spell Review appeared first on Angry Metal Guy.

Metanoia delivers a burly fusion of its heavy metal and stoner rock influences, blending the energetic jauntiness of ’80s heavy metal with the thick guitar tones of ’90s stoner soundscapes. Stoner grooves are the priority, even when paired alongside classic metal acrobatics. First impressions are solid, with the opening passages on “Torche”¹ featuring leads that are good and occasionally wander into very good territory. An unexpected, trilling guitar layer around the mid-point contributes to the psych/stoner vibe, and a hearteningly soulful singer caps a track with sturdy bones. The production packages these elements into a pleasingly rustic aesthetic, sounding as if Crystal Spiders recorded live in a room together. It lands somewhere between Royal Thunder and Kyuss, but is executed with a classic metal sensibility.

Despite Metanoia’s sturdy bones, the body they support is sometimes flabby with a plain face. The songwriting suffers from noticeable bloat. With just seven tracks stretching to 44 minutes, the band isn’t afraid of length. But even your first exposure to the album on “Torche” feels a bit too long; its core lead is good, but not good enough to carry nearly six minutes. By the time you reach the almost nine-minute finale (“O.S..”), you might expect something exciting and climactic. Instead, the same core passage loops through the first half, with the song changing but not significantly for the remainder. Likewise, “Time Travel” keeps returning to the core passage in its first half, and I’ve passed my saturation point with it well before the end. After several minutes, it just sounds lethargic. Notwithstanding a handful of notable solos and transitions, the songs generally move slowly and repetitively between passages. Metanoia feels like 20 minutes of ideas stretched into 40 minutes of music.

By comparison, “Ignite” is immediately more urgent and entertaining as it speeds up to a canter with a nifty lead in its first verse. The dramatic flair of this riff is a welcome change and injects some drama that the rest of the record lacks. This song is the exception that proves the rule of bloated songwriting, as I enjoy the shortest track most. Similarly, the back half of “Time Travel” features an instrumental passage that speeds through a spirited lead with a more technical solo. The album proves more entertaining when it progresses past slower and mid-paced tempos. Beyond these satisfying moments, however, I struggle to highlight any other points of note. Music that stands out must overcome endless choice in a world with virtually limitless options available at a listener’s fingertips. Metanoia’s overall quality is such that it’s difficult to muster any more strengths or weaknesses.

I had a ten-day work trip between my first and last listens to Metanoia, so it had plenty of time to passively gestate. But in reality, I nearly forgot that this review was due; it’s just not a memorable or remarkable release, and hadn’t called to me once during that period. Despite the core strengths of the Crystal Spiders’ sound across their guitar leads and lively production, the bloated songs and solid-but-unexciting songwriting prohibit them from truly excelling.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: v0 mp3
Label: Ripple Music
Websites: crystalspiders.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/crystalspiders
Releases Worldwide: May 23rd, 2025

The post Crystal Spiders – Metanoia Review appeared first on Angry Metal Guy.

It makes for a distinctly intense experience as it blends stomping rhythms, nerdy technicality, and trilling flourishes into an album that proudly sits in the death metal camp but that also has a foot over the melodic line. Ominous Ruin execute this sound with the ridiculous level of instrumental skill typical of tech death, including a top-drawer lead guitarist who forces me to re-assess how good I am at anything in comparison to him. Likewise, the powerful vocalist scrapes the sewer’s bottom with her guttural vox. It all contributes to a significant volume of content that moves so quickly that I was scarcely able to keep up with my notes. It’s difficult to appreciate many of the component passages; like an F1 car, when you attend a race, it’s impossible to admire the skill and craftsmanship in their design when they pass at 220 miles per hour.

Ominous Ruin commit the cardinal sin committed by most tech death bands: brick-walling the master.¹ While extremely energetic, tech death is a style that suffers from a lack of musical dynamism, given its constant speed and maximalist approach. If one makes the decision to also limit the master’s dynamism it traps all that energy into a tiny space that drains what little dynamism already exists in the music. The result is that large chunks of Requiem struggle to distinguish themselves from each other. This is compounded by riffs that, while solid, generally fail to make me bang my head. The acrobatic, speedy leads are basically fine but repetitive and unremarkable (“Staring into the Abysm”). By contrast, the mid-paced closing lead on “Architect of Undoing” stands out as more groovy and powerful. Its slower riff works well to counterpoint the preceding faster riffs.

I generally dislike signposted intro/outro/interlude tracks that stand apart from the main songs. I especially dislike those with unimaginative descriptions instead of titles (“Opening” or “Interlude I” for example); it usually connotes a rote album of uninspired material. Sadly, Requiem is saddled with a separate introduction titled “Intro.” Happily, Ominous Ruin are a little more inspired than many tech death bands. Their greatest strength is how they stack layers of melodies to construct surprisingly ornate compositions. They almost sound like Ulcerate in places where they knock the music off-kilter (“Eternal” and “Architect of Undoing”). The compositions belie a group that doesn’t just want to write songs that sound like a queue of riffs. But, besides the well-demarcated interludes, the music is so undynamic that it takes real diligence to pierce the heaviness and appreciate the smart ways they deploy harmonies, melodies, and counter-melodies.

It takes truly exceptional tech death to excite me, and Requiem is not truly exceptional. Mileage may vary for tech death nuts, as I acknowledge the real artistry in how Ominous Ruin piece together knotty compositions through layers of melodies and counter-melodies. But the real killer is the boxy production that constrains the dynamism that’s already limited by the everything-everywhere-all-at-once style favored. The heavy passages, and even most of the light passages scattered throughout, sound repetitive. It’s therefore difficult to score Requiem any higher than average.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps MP3
Label: Willowtip Records
Websites: ominousruin.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/ominousruin
Releases Worldwide: May 9th, 2025

The post Ominous Ruin – Requiem Review appeared first on Angry Metal Guy.

Distilling Big Trouble down into its key elements is relatively easy, even if those key elements themselves don’t offer easy listening. It combines the monumental heft of deathcore with the sneering attitude of hardcore and the speedy intensity of grindcore. “Porkchop Express” is prototypical of the album, as it blends a stomping lead that reeks of slam with a faster, tremolo-picked verse, while the vocals unpredictably flip between pig squeals, hardcore shouts, and deathly growls. These songs are extremely extreme, favoring an obnoxiously loud master, boisterous riffs, and relentless energy. It’s a lot, but also – at least on first listen – a lot of fun. It’s difficult to dislike something so active and aggressive, and it’s all too brief to become bored. The cacophony is more of an experience than mere music.

I also admire how Coffin Feeder lean into their own silliness; they represent the diametric opposition to bands that take themselves too seriously. It’s difficult to dispute the “What is best in life?” speech from Conan the Barbarian when layered over beefcake deathcore (“The Destroyer”). But I would also argue that Big Trouble favors style over substance. The sense of humor pastes over an album that’s solid in execution of the fundamentals, but not much better. It feels like the band has used up all their ideas by the back half of the record. The songs become predictable, shuffling between mid-paced/deathlier passages, faster/grindier passages, and slower/breakdown passages. Likewise, most of the riffs sound basically the same. Though the leads are typically entertaining, not many of the tracks really stand out because they follow similar sounds throughout.

Like all good -core music, the breakdowns are often the highlights. When those blast beats are broken down with a slower but groovier lead, heads will bang. In fact, breakdowns are such an easy win in -core music that they feel like a song-writing crutch. Big Trouble accordingly struggles more where there are longer gaps between those fist-pumping moments. “Plain Zero” is a straighter death metal track with a hefty punch, but the relative absence of breakdowns means my attention is less focused. Paradoxically, there are other tracks with poorly deployed breakdowns that disrupt their flow. “Love at First Death” features a pause that becomes a beefy breakdown, but it’s too sudden and changes the tone of the song. Despite solid leads and entertaining grooves, some tracks aren’t particularly cohesive. The music is so frenetic that it can feel disjointed; it’s an amalgamation of ideas but not written into tidy, individual songs.

Coffin Feeder boast some qualities that will undoubtedly appeal to those with a brutal, slamming proclivity. The songs flex with muscular riffs and mighty breakdowns, and the motley vocals go some way to offering a little variety. But Big Trouble (in Little Belgium) ultimately fails to distinguish its individual songs due to repetitive songwriting. Its sheer power can’t overcome a lack of creative spark or ingenuity required to elevate music beyond the average. I feel like there’s more to come from these Belgians.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 4 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps MP3
Label: Listenable Records
Websites: coffinfeederband.com | coffinfeeder.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/coffinfeeder
Releases Worldwide: April 25th, 2025

The post Coffin Feeder – Big Trouble Review appeared first on Angry Metal Guy.

Lik

At its core, Necro remains an old school death metal album. The spectres of Entombed and Dismember loom heavily over Lik; such is the lot of all Swedish metalheads indulging in a spot of the necrophiliac arts. But recent years have also found the troupe eagerly devouring the corpse of In Flames, if buried in their 90s heyday. “War Praise” opens with a machine-gunning lead you might expect from an early 90s death metal record, but this swiftly gives way to a shredding lick that caps the song’s introduction and acts as an instrumental quasi-chorus. The shredding guitar tone skips over the harshness of At the Gates and bee-lines straight for the relative clarity of their more melodic comparators. It’s just a brief taster of a melodic sound that will recur later on the album. Make no mistake; this is still death metal of the blood-spattered variety. But the melodic punch belies a group casting their deathly gaze away from their Stockholm roots towards Gothenburg on the other side of the country.

As if to assuage any trepidation of existing fans concerned about “melody” or “hooks” (forgetting, of course, that Lik have always favored hooks, even if heavy ones), the vast majority of the ten tracks here prioritize the fusion of bludgeoning rhythms and scything melodies that is unique to Swedish death metal. Though Necro may have a melodic knack, the savage bite of its guitars always comes first. “Worms Inside” features a particularly fast and brutal opening, leading with a riff that bulges like a vein on the verge of explosion. And “Shred into Pieces” almost has the speed and relentlessness of grindcore. The energetic vocalist barks through ridiculous lyrics that are as violent as they are depraved, while the drums sound more powerful than ever as they’re presented more prominently in the mix than previously. Lik manifest a never-ending pursuit of exciting, energetic music, and their morgue-defiling enthusiasm is infectious.

Besides the judicious injection of melody through cleaner guitar tones and/or harmonizing guitars, Necro further demonstrates a song-writing hand that’s beginning to develop from pure, old school death metal. “Morgue Rat” opens with a purring bass and techy leads, but later orients around the rhythmic, expressive vocals, its lyrics dripping with blood and semen. While they begin in guttural territory, the back half progresses to a blacker, witchy shriek. Likewise, an unexpected mid-song interlude lends an air of intrigue and re-energizes the song for its finale. “In Ruins” is the most expansive track here; it deliberately shuffles a slower, doomy introduction, frenzied solos, pulsating rhythms, and harmonized shouts into a song that feels more than the sum of these parts. This and “Rotten Inferno” feel more thoughtful and varied as they frequently switch gears and escape the trappings of a verse/chorus structure.

Necro is a fundamentally sound album. It does what all good old school death metal albums do by focusing on razor-sharp leads, lo-fi production, and energetic song-writing. It’s impossible to be a fan of death metal and not enjoy Lik. So why no better than a 3.5? I still feel that the sharpest edges in the Lik discography are in the past; Necro just isn’t as joyous or memorable as Mass Funeral Evocation or Carnage. Although it strives to expand the core sounds it uses, it isn’t so good as to escape the trappings of a sound that’s already been heard many times over. I didn’t necessarily expect more, but I had hoped the newfound development might push the band a little further.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps MP3
Label: Metal Blade Records
Websites: likofficial.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/lik
Releases Worldwide: April 18th, 2025

The post Lik – Necro Review appeared first on Angry Metal Guy.

The Nydvind style isn’t a part of the same scene as the likes of Agalloch, but they capture the earthen feel that such bands exalt. “Dance of the Ages” uses flitting, clean guitar lines and occasional chants to conjure a folksy effect, tied into acoustic guitar passages designed to evoke delicacy. This contrasts with the record’s opening heavy passages that blend trilling blackened guitars with deathly, guttural growls. Likewise, “Heart of the Woods II” opens robustly, with a doomy lick delivered via a shredding tone. The remainder of Telluria sometimes winds and sometimes stomps its way through passages that principally progress through a fusion of black, doom, and death metal. Despite its variety, the core of the music has a feel that won’t be totally unfamiliar to fans of Paradise Lost, but observed through a decidedly blacker lens.

When you first start with Telluria, the multitude of influences in the pot and frequent musical shifts make things interesting. But it’s definitely more ‘interesting’ than ‘exciting.’ Although there’s a lot to listen to when paying close attention, my overall emotional response is an unfazed one. The majority of the album is merely okay. This is undoubtedly compounded by the music switching between varied sounds in an uneventful way. “Heart of the Woods II” proceeds through its doomy opening and a blackened second passage then back again, but each transition simply ceases the prior music and commences the next. There are very few moments of sophistication or drama to signal change to the listener. The over-arching fusion of doom / black / death/folk influences sounds harmonious on first listen, but it’s not nearly as stimulating as it should be.

I find my initial interest thoroughly waned by Telluria’s back half. Ultimately, the inability to generate a visceral emotional response (even a negative one) consigns it to the sizeable heap of forgettable music I’ll not bother returning to. The shuffling, directionless song-writing contributes to my dispirited response. I find the doomy mid-pace passages the dullest of Nydvind’s sounds, and these passages sometimes stretch out over minutes at a time. The songs average 8 minutes, and only one runs for fewer than 7, with another exceeding 10. Only “Into the Pantheon of Absynthia” reaches a climax that’s reasonably satisfying, as it escalates with a crescendo that gets heavier over time. The remainder of the songs don’t justify their duration.

The only complete exception to the commentary I’ve provided above is the title track. Pretty much all the best passages on Telluria are locked within these 9 minutes. From the crunchy, blackened verse with piercing shrieked vocals to the layered leads that harmonize then counter-point, it did what no other track could by demanding my attention. It then proceeded to hold it by featuring the album’s best solo and one of its heaviest passages after its mid-point. And just before that heaviness becomes tiring, the ensuing quietness offers a welcome contrast. “Telluria” still fails to stitch together its varied passages in a subtle or engaging way, but separately they’re best throughout.

Despite the more exceptional moments that form the strongest Nydvind material, the vast majority of Telluria leaves me cold. Beyond those moments, it’s difficult for me to highlight any particular riff or melody as standouts; much bleed together into a grey sludge, even with the diverse influences. There’s the potential for a thought-provoking synthesis of styles here. But while the quintessential 2.0 commits the sin of disappointing its listener, Telluria commits the sin of leaving very little mark at all.

Rating: 2.0/5.0
DR: 11 | Format Reviewed: v2 MP3
Label: Malpermesita Records
Website: facebook.com/nydvind
Releases Worldwide: March 21st, 2025

The post Nydvind – Telluria Review appeared first on Angry Metal Guy.

Caballero is the sort of band that I’d love to experience live. It’s easy to imagine they’d be loads of fun because their recording sounds splashy, energetic, and lively. Caballero executes this sound through a lo-fi approach to speedy heavy metal. It has a production aesthetic that evokes a serrated knife; the riffs cut with a sharp edge, but the overall package has an imperfect roughness. Robust guitars orient around headbangable grooves rather than masturbatory solos, and I enjoy the touches of speed metal when the rhythms shift up a gear; its theatricality belies skilled instrumentalists. The back halves on “Mortally Wounded, Counting the Galaxies” and “The Lord of the Day and the Winds” exemplify these elements, running through raucous leads and frantic energy. The music isn’t the best or most innovative heavy metal ever produced, but has grit and personality. Caballero’s 37-minute runtime passes rapidly.

Undermining these qualities, however, are the just-about-tolerable vocals. I admire the effort thrown into the half-sung and half-shouted style, but they rarely hit the notes or power they target. Caballero relies on reverb to confer a thicker tone and greater gravitas they would otherwise lack, but even these can’t overcome a majority that grounds a release that nearly takes flight into something special. If the guitars have an energizing effect, the vocals have the inverse effect. The singing actively detracts from passages like the first heavy part on “The Moor-Slayer”; a grinding, stomping lead is frustrated by shouts that sound out of key. And while I like the marching passage on “La Noche Triste,” especially the layer of shredding guitars, the harmonized chants are extraneous and weak. The vocals are an obvious instrumental weakness when compared with the sharp guitars.

Caballero features a consistency that works in two ways. The first is how the band bridges the riffs and solos in smart ways. “Sorcery Above the Lake of the Water-Dog” is stuffed full of great leads that won’t just get you moving but are also surprisingly technical. The way this track transitions between passages belongs to a 4.0 album, especially as the solo grows naturally out of the noodling preceding lead. The second is a consistency that flows from songwriting that struggles to clearly distinguish tracks. Most unfold in a way that’s largely enjoyable, but they sound more like a collection of riffs stitched together than they do structured songs. This robs some of the satisfaction I typically glean through cohesion. Without strong vocals or vocal melodies, there isn’t a clear delineation between verses, choruses and tracks.

Some albums score in the 2.0-3.0 range because they’re middling releases that fail to stand out from the crowd. Caballero falls into this range because while they have obvious weaknesses, they also boast great advantages. Caballero is far from perfect, but its riffs and sheer entertainment value largely outweigh the imperfections. It’s a robust marker of a young band in ascendancy, so I’ll track their development with interest.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 11 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps MP3
Label: Gates of Hell Records
Website: caballero.bandcamp.com
Releases Worldwide: March 7th, 2025

The post Caballero – Caballero Review appeared first on Angry Metal Guy.

Arion’s strongest quality is a legitimate chunkiness they boast in the face of Europower competitors that I usually find saccharine. Their compositions are appropriately maximalist, with reasonably dense layers of metal instrumentation fused with strings and faux choirs. But the songwriting and production generally elevate the impact of the guitars and drums in the mix above the symphonic elements; in particular, the guitars and drums benefit from a robust, battering tone while subjugating the keyboard elements. Likewise, the vocalist is sufficiently acrobatic to hit the necessary notes but prioritizes a gritty, shouting personality above a wailing vibrato. Finally, The Light that Burns moves at a quick pace, which, when paired with the compositions, coalesces into a sound that’s pretty heavy for power metal. The title track is an early highlight and exemplifies the qualities described above. Its speed and heft sounds something like Symphony X, with an appreciable brevity resulting in a song that passes instantaneously.

However, I find that The Light that Burns struggles to keep itself fresh. Despite its beefier-than-most style, the album becomes more repetitive and generic by side B. It contains ten proper songs (not including the short opener), and they all sound fairly similar. I find that my initial enthusiasm only persists for the first few songs; beyond this, the spark is extinguished. For example, “Blasphemous Paradise” is a pale imitation of the title track as it features stylistically similar but less enjoyable melodies. I query the purpose of songs that are simply lesser renditions of others. And the further into the album ventured, the more I struggled to maintain my focus; I was hard pressed to write any notes at all about the penultimate track called “In the Heart of the Sea.” I’ll happily listen to some bands doing the same thing ten times over, but only where they produce great music. By contrast, Arion merely produce serviceable music.

Where Arion attempt to generate the quality through variety I find myself craving, they still don’t quite achieve this. “Wings of Twilight” uses a female vocalist in its chorus who offers an ear-catching change of tone, but she’s ultimately less effective because her style is more generic than the main vocalist. This song also leans more heavily into synths. These two factors contribute to the song diluting the band’s personality and heaviness. Likewise, the closer runs for longer in an effort to reach something more epic. But what this practically entails is nearly two minutes of a repetitive introduction, extending what should be a sub-five-minute song to one that approaches seven minutes. By contrast, and despite my general enjoyment of the heavier songs here, a mid-album ballad might have worked better to refresh the sound of The Light that Burns for its second half.

There are substantial strengths in the core sound of The Light that Burns, and there are a couple of strong songs, but Arion are just not compelling enough to warrant anything more than a neutral award. While I admire the trend towards heavier material, the songs are insufficiently distinct to carry a 45-minute album. And though this release may not be quite as generic as the last, my overall summary can still go no further than “competent”.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps MP3
Label: Reigning Phoenix Music
Websites: arion.com | facebook.com/arion
Releases Worldwide: February 28th, 2025

The post Arion – The Light that Burns the Sky Review appeared first on Angry Metal Guy.