Night of the Vampire’s take on blackened darkwave is oodles of fun. Across Enchanting Winds, songs are led by gaudy synth lines atop simple distorted guitars, classic 80s drum patterns, and finished with a blackened rasp. This is an effective formula that’s as fun as it is addictive, evoking the playful jubilance of vintage synth-led sounds and sharpening it with black metal’s frostbitten cudgel. The result is campy and over-the-top, but Astral Shadow has plenty of tricks up their satin sleeve to make this formula more delectable. Whether it’s adding tasteful lead guitar and campy clean vocals (“Children of the Immortal Blood”) ¹, going full Simple Minds with a driving synth pop rocker (“Sacrificed to the Night”) or deploying some ignorant mid-tempo chugs underneath the ocean of synth (“Casting Shadows in an Ocean of Time”), there’s no shortage of clever adornments to spice up the core blackened darkwave sound. Night of the Vampire might sound more like Depeche Mode than Darkthrone, but that’s fine when this pernicious platter is this delectable.

Enchanting Winds provides meaningful variety in its execution, keeping this rave from getting too stale. Night of the Vampire goes full Blade nightclub with “The Cosmic Darkness Calls me,” a delightful goth rager which ditches the guitars for a throbbing synth bassline and icy, programmed drums. The faster tempo of “Mother Moon of the Astral Dawn” is a nice, energetic break from the dancefloor, utilizing effective drum pullbacks to keep its forward momentum, and “Misty Illusions” is a solid dungeon synth closer that eases you out of the whole vampiric experience. With relatively short song-lengths and a curt 30-minute runtime, this is also a record that doesn’t overstay its welcome, allowing for repeated spins without running the risk of blood withdrawal. Enchanting Winds is an enjoyable, blackened journey from start to finish. I only wish it set its sights a little higher.

The main thing preventing Night of the Vampire from reaching sanguine ecstasy is the relative lack of ambition in Enchanting Wind’s songwriting. Astral Shadow’s approach is simple: latch onto a catchy synth melody and then ride it for the song’s entire duration, with minor variation for choruses. This works exceedingly well on shorter pieces or in conjunction with more inventive additions, but falls a bit short when it’s the only tactic on display. As a result, songs built almost entirely around a single synth line, like “The Prince of Many Faces and the Lady of the Night” or “Beyond the Howls of the Celestial Wolves,” end up feeling one-note, with little development or variation. Once you notice this pattern across the record, the impact of individual tracks diminishes. That’s especially frustrating given that “Children of Immortal Blood,” with its contrasting choruses, proves Astral Shadow is capable of writing dynamic, multi-part songs with distinct elements. As it stands, the straightforward songcraft doesn’t prevent these tracks from being exciting in the right context, but it does keep Enchanting Winds from evolving beyond its initial premise.

The Enchanting Winds of the Dreamweaving Masquerade is a charming debut from Night of the Vampire. The essential idea of “black metal meets 80s synths” is effective, entertaining and often moves beyond the simple proposition, even if the straightforward songcraft detracts from my enjoyment at times. I’ll gladly place Night of the Vampire alongside their unserious contemporaries in my “kvlt cheese-maxing” playlist and look forward to whatever Astral Shadow produces next.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Profound Lore Records
Website: nightofthevampire.bandcamp.com | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: February 6th, 2026

The post Night of the Vampire – The Enchanting Winds of the Dreamweaving Masquerade Review appeared first on Angry Metal Guy.

Brutal cold envelops the building as my minions scrape through ice and filthy slush to find even the smallest shard of metallic glimmer. With extensive budget cuts demanded by my exorbitant bonus schedule—as is my right as CEO of this filtration service—there was no room to purchase adequate gear and equipment for these harsher weathers. However, I did take up crocheting recently so each of my “employees” received a nice soft hat.

Hopefully, that will be enough to tide them over until the inclement weather passes and we return to normal temps. Until then, they have these rare finds to keep them warm, and so do you! REJOICE!

Kenstrosity’s Knightly Nightmare

AngelMaker // This Used to Be Heaven [November 20th, 2025 – Self Released]

I’ve been a fan of AngelMaker’s since their 2015 debut Dissentient. The grossly underrated and underappreciated Vancouver septet are a highly specialized deathcore infantry, with their lineup expanding steadily over their career in concert with their ever-increasing songwriting sophistication. Unlike the brutish and belligerent debut and follow-up AngelMaker, 2022’s Sanctum and new outing This Used to Be Heaven indulge in rich layering, near-neoclassical melodies, and dramatic atmosphere to complement AngelMaker’s trademark sense of swaggering groove. With early entries “Rich in Anguish” and “Haunter” establishing the strength of both sides of their sound, it always surprises me how AngelMaker successfully twist and gnarl their sound into shapes—whether it be hardcore, blackened, or melodic—I wasn’t anticipating (“Silken Hands,” “Relinquished,” “Nothing Left”). A rock-solid back half launched by the epic “The Omen” two-part suite brings these deviations from the expected into unity with the deathcore foundation I know AngelMaker so well for (“Malevolence Reigns,” “Altare Mortis”), and in doing so secure their status as one of the most reliably creative deathcore acts in the scene. Nothing here is going to change the minds of the fiercer deathcore detractors, but if your heart is open even just a crack, there’s a good chance This Used to Be Heaven will force themselves into it, if not entirely rip the whole thing asunder. My advice is simply to let it.

ClarkKent’s Sonic Symphonics

Brainblast // Colossus Suprema [November 11th, 2025 – Vmbrella]

A debut album five years in the making from a band formed in 2015, Colossus Suprema is the brainchild of Bogotá, Colombia’s Edd Jiménez. Jiménez turned his passion for and training in classical composition towards his symphonic progressive act, Brainblast. With Bach as an inspiration, Brainblast’s brand of technical death metal has the grandeur of Fleshgod Apocalypse, the speed of Archspire, and the virtuosity of concert musicians. Jiménez’s classical training shows — the compositions have an orchestral feel, only played at insane energy levels. The speed, the depth, and the breadth of the instrumentation are sure to leave you breathless. Nicholas Le Fou Wells (First Fragment) lays down relentless kitwork with jaw-dropping velocity, while Eetu Hernesmaa provides technical fretwork that’ll similarly leave you awestruck. He delivers sublime riffs on “Relentless Rise” and a surprising melodic lead that steals the show on “Unchain Your Soul.” Perhaps most prominent is the virtuoso play of the bass from Rich Gray (Annihilator) and Dominic Forest Lapointe (First Fragment) that is omnipresent and funky on each and every song. To top it all off is the piano (perhaps from Jiménez), giving the music some gravitas with the technical, concert-style playing. This record is just plain bonkers and tons of fun. Given this is the debut from a young musician, the idea that Brainblast has room to grow is plenty exciting.

Gods of Gaia // Escape the Wonderland [November 28th, 2025 – Self Released]

If you’ve been eagerly awaiting the next SepticFlesh release, Germany’s Gods of Gaia have got you covered. Founded in 2023 by Kevin Sierra Eifert, Gods of Gaia is made up of an anonymous collective from around the world, contributing to a dark, heavy, and aggressive form of symphonic metal. Their sophomore album, Escape the Wonderland, features a collection of death metal songs with plenty of orchestral arrangements that add a dramatic flair. Along with crushing riffs and thunderous blast beats, you’ll hear choral chants (“Escape the Wonderland,” “Burn for Me”), bits of piano (“What It Takes”), and plenty of cinematic symphonics. SepticFlesh is the obvious influence, but the grandiosity of Fleshgod Apocalypse flares up on cuts like the dramatic “Rise Up.” The front half is largely aggressive, with “What It Takes” taking the energy to thrash levels. The back half dials down the energy, even creeping to near doom on “Krieg in Mir,” but never pulls back on the heaviness. Cool as the symphonic elements are, the riffs, blast beats, and brutal vocal delivery are just as impressive. Make no mistake, this is melodic death metal above all else, with symphonic seasonings that elevate it a notch. Just the opposite of what the record title suggests, this is one wonderland you won’t want to escape.

Grin Reaper’s Frozen Feast

Hounds of Bayanay // КЭМ [November 15, 2025 – Self Released]

Two-and-a-half years after dropping debut Legends of the North, Hounds of Bayanay returns with КЭМ to sate your eternal lust for folk metal.¹ Blending heavy metal with folk instrumentation, specifically kyrympa² and khomus,³ as well as throat singing, Hounds of Bayanay might sound like a Tengger Cavalry or The Hu knockoff, but you’ll do yourself a disservice by writing them off. Boldly enunciated, clarion cleans belt out in confident proclamations while grittier refrains and overtones resonate beneath, proffering assorted and engaging vocal stylings. Rather than dwelling overlong in strings and tribal chanting, the deft fusion of folk instruments with traditional metal defines Hounds’ sound and feels cohesively integrated on КЭМ, providing an intimate yet heavy backdrop to a hook-laden and alluringly replayable thirty-nine minutes. In addition to the eclectic folk influence, there’s a satisfying variety of songwriting from track to track, with “Ardaq,” “Cɯsqa:n,” and “Dɔʃɔrum” exemplifying the enticing synthesis of styles. More than anything else, Hounds of Bayanay embodies heart and fun, warming my chilly days with a well-executed platter of Eastern-influenced folk metal. Don’t skip this one, or the decision could hound you.

Blood Red Throne // Siltskin [December 05, 2025 – Soulseller Records]

I’m shoving up against the deadline to wedge this one in, but Blood Red Throne’s latest deserves a mention, and bulldozing is just the sort of thing you should do while listening to BRT’s brand of bludgeoning, pit-stomping romp. Back in December, the venerable Norwegian death metal act dropped twelfth album Siltskin, maintaining their prolific and consistent release schedule. In addition to their dependable output, BRT stays the course with pummeling, brutish pomp. In his coverage of Nonagon and Imperial Congregation, Doc Grier drums up comparisons to Old Man’s Child, Panzerchrist, and Hypocrisy, and while I’m not inclined to disagree on those points, I’ll add that Siltskin also harkens to Kill-era Cannibal Corpse in its slick coalition of mid-paced slammers, warp-speed blitzes, and fat ‘n’ frolicking bass. Add to that the sly, sticky melody from the likes of Sentenced’s North from Here (“Vestigial Remnants”), and you’ve got a recipe for a righteous forty-five-minute smash-a-thon. Blood Red Throne’s last few records have been among their best, which is an incredible feat for a band this far into their career. While Siltskin doesn’t surpass BRT’s high-water mark, it keeps up, and if you’re hungry for an aural beatdown, then Blood Red Throne would like to throw their crown into the ring for consideration.

Gotsu-Totsu-Kotsu // Immortality [December 17, 2025 – Bang the Head Records]

I am woefully late to the charms of Gotsu-Totsu-Kotsu, a Japanese death metal outfit prominently featuring slap ‘n’ pop bass. Had it not been for our trusty Flippered Friend, I might have continued this grievous injustice of ignorance, but thankfully, this is not the timeline to which I’m doomed. Immortality is Gotsu-Totsu-Kotsu’s seventh album, and those who enjoy the band’s previous work should remain satisfied. For new acolytes, Gotsu-Totsu-Kotsu grasps the rabid intensity of Vader and Krisiun and imbues it with a funky edge. Meaty bass rumbles and sprightly slapped accents, provided by bassist/vocalist Haruhisa Takahata, merge with Kouki Akita’s kit obliteration to establish a thunderous, unrelenting rhythm section. Atop the lower end’s heft, Keiichi Enjouji shreds and squeals with thrashy vigor and a keen understanding of melody. First proper track “Anima Immortalis” even includes gang intonations that work so well, I wish they were more prevalent across the album. The sum total of Gotsu-Totsu-Kotsu’s atmosphere is one of plucky exuberance that strikes with the force of a roundhouse kick to the dome. Had I discovered it sooner, Immortality would have qualified for a 2025 year-end honorable mention, as I haven’t been able to stop spinning it or the band’s prior releases.⁴ Though I’m still in the honeymoon phase, I expect this platter to live on in my listening, and recommend you not miss this GTK killer like I almost did.

Thus Spoke’s Random Revelations

The Algorithm // Recursive Infinity [November 21st, 2025 – Self Released]

I’ve been a fan of The Algorithm since the early days, back when their electronica-djent was almost twee in its experimental joy, spliced with light-hearted samples. Over the years, Rémi Gallego has tuned his flair for mesmeric, playful compositions to develop a richer, more streamlined sound. Recursive Infinity continues the recent upward trend Data Renaissance began. With riffs and rhythms the slickest since Brute Force, and melodies the brightest and most colourful since equally-prettily adorned Polymorphic Code, it’s a cyberpunk tour-de-force. The wildness is trained, chunky heaviness grounding magnetic melodies (“Race Condition,” “Mutex,” “By Design”), dense chugging transitioning seamlessly into techno (“Advanced Iteration Technique,” “Hollowing,” “Graceful Degradation), and adding bite to bubbly, candy-coloured soundscapes (“Rainbow Table,”). The skittering of breakbeats tempers synthwave (“Endless Iteration), and bright pulses wrap cascading electro-core (“Race Condition,” “Mutex”) and orchestral melodrama (“Recursive Infinity”). It’s often strongly reminiscent of some point in The Algorithm’s history, but everything is upgraded from charming to entrancing. This provides a new way to interpret Recursive Infinity: not just a reference to an endless loop in general, but to Boucle Infinie (Infinite Loop)—Remi’s other musical project—and by extension, The Algorithm themselves. Yet he is still experimenting, including vocoder vocals (“Endless Iteration,” “By Design”) for a surprisingly successful dark-Daft Punk vibe in slower, moodier moments. With nostalgic throwbacks transformed so beautifully, and the continued evolution, there’s simply no way I can ignore The Algorithm now. And neither should you.

Owlswald’s Holiday Scraps

Sun of the Suns // Entanglement [December 12th, 2025 – Scarlet Records]

Bands and labels take heed—We reserve December for two things: Listurnalia and celebrating another trip around the sun. It is not for releasing new music. Yet this blunder persists, ensuring we inevitably miss gems like Sun of the Suns’ sophomore effort, Entanglement.⁵ The record dropped just as the world was tuning out for the year, and it deserves much better. Building on the foundation of their 2021 debut, TIIT, the Italian trio has significantly beefed up their progressive death formula. Mixing tech-death articulation with deathcore brutality, Entanglement ensures fans of Fallujah will feel right at home with its effervescent clean melodies and crystalline textures. Francesca Paoli (Fleshgod Apocalypse) returns to provide another masterclass behind the kit with rapid-fire double-bass, blasts, and tom fills, while guitarists Marco Righetti and Ludovico Cioffi deliver cosmic shredding and radiant solos that are both technical and deliberate. While the early tracks lean into Fallujahian songcraft and Tesseract-style arpeggios, the album shines brightest late when the group largely sheds its stylistic orbit. “Please, Blackout My Eyes” pivots toward a majestic Aeternam vibe with ethereal tech-death incisiveness, while “One With the Sun” and “The Void Where Sound Ends Its Path” hit like a sledgehammer with Xenobiotic’s deathcore grooves. Though Luca Dave Scarlatti’s vocals lack differentiation, the sheer quality of the compositions carries the weight, proving Sun of the Suns are much more than mere clones.

The post Stuck in the Filter: November/December 2025’s Angry Misses appeared first on Angry Metal Guy.

Neverland shifts across a diverse range of moods through its runtime, never quite landing on a single tonal descriptor I might comfortably use to pigeonhole Neverland, which was surely the intention. It’s at times mysterious, brooding, and melancholic, and defiantly optimistic, musically manifesting in a variety of ways. There’s a strong emphasis on richly textured ambiance (“Weeping Stone,” “Horses of the Plough”), there’s a lot of glitchy industrial beats (“They’re Coming! The Birds!” and “Hark! Hark! The Dogs Do Bark!”), and the highlight comes in funky, percussive synthwave (“People of the Hills,” “Fire in the End”). It’s worth noting that apart from some spoken poetry in the opener, Neverland is, in practice, a fully instrumental affair. It’s easy to miss Kristoffer Rygg’s vocals, which were always a highlight of any Ulver record, but Neverland is specifically written in a way that wouldn’t work with vocals. Neverland effectively utilizes free-form compositions, eschewing a structure that would benefit from vocals and focusing on the strength and depth of the musicality.

To that end, Neverland is largely carried by its sound design and tight, snappy electronics. Umpteen albums in and Ulver have fine-tuned their electronic craftsmanship down to a science, keeping Neverland’s percussion straightforward and simple while swathing them in effects and ambiance. Neverland’s songs are generally catchy: the Moonlight Sonata-esque piano sequence that leads into the dramatic, glitchy crescendo of “Elephant Trunk” has stuck with me since my first listen, and “Hark! Hark! The Dogs Do Bark!”‘s bass-heavy beat never disappoints. “People of the Hills” is, for my money Neverland’s strongest song, and one of my new favorite Ulver songs. Staccato synths prelude a disco funk bass-line and grease-slick drums before some guitars drop a ludicrously tasty synthwave chord. It’s a goddamn banger, and like all of Neverland, sounds great, but the sound design is allowed to shine brightest in an ambient track like “Weeping Stone.” It starts with a comfortable rumble of brown noise before the keyboards arrive with grand washes of color and a moonlit melody.

Still, while the ambient tracks sound great, they begin to present an issue in Neverland’s latter half. The momentum constructed in Neverland’s first half falters at the ambient “Horses of the Plough” and “Quivers in the Marrow,” which are placed too closely together, with “Pandora’s Box” in between them. While I like the dreamy feel and slick bass line of “Pandora’s Box,” it begins to drag on repeat listens since the greater part of the song is a lot of build-up. Sometimes I feel that there’s an imbalance between Neverland’s ambiance and beat-driven side. Some of the more immediate tracks, including ones I like such as “They’re Coming! The Birds!” and “People of the Hills,” can feel shorter when I wish they were longer, being slightly padded on either end with ambiance or build-up, which in turn makes the standalone ambient tracks feel longer, inviting impatience for the next, more engaging track. The faltering momentum does frustrate, but I struggle to maintain much annoyance on account of the closer, “Fire in the End.” Tonally similar to “People of the Hills” but injecting a healthy dose of drama into the funk, it closes Neverland on a high note that always leaves me feeling satisfied.

Anyway, pacing quibbles aside, Neverland is all in all a success. It’s an easy album to throw on and just sink into thanks to stellar sound design, with tons of highlight beats that will stick with you. While it’s not a career-defining achievement for Ulver, it is another worthy shade to add to Ulver’s ever-growing sonic kaleidoscope, one I would recommend to any who’s ever enjoyed that distinct, melancholic Ulver flavor in the past.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps
Label: House of Mythology
Websites: facebook | bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: December 31st, 2025

The post Ulver – Neverland Review appeared first on Angry Metal Guy.

-ii- is not a metal band. They play what they seem to call “ghost wave,” which sits somewhere between post-rock, goth, darkwave, trip-hop, and industrial, at times recalling HEALTH or Nine Inch Nails. If this sounds fairly electronics-heavy, it is. But on Apostles of the Flesh, -ii- eschews the drum machines and some other electronics of their debut in favor of live instrumentation, and it’s a resounding success. With l’Huillier’s lively drumming and Racine’s unique instruments,² Apostles of the Flesh feels alive. This organic improvement over Extinction would be nothing to write home about, however, without the impressive songcraft Racine showcases here. Whether it’s a distorted, electronic bridge amidst tribal yet airy instrumentals (“Lotis”), impactful usage of audio effects (“Pearls Beneath the Embers,” “Virginia’s Mirror”), or shimmering synths draped over wistful strings (“The Fountain of Helicon”), everything fits together and flows effortlessly. Of particular note is “When Beauty is a Crime,” where -ii- mirrors its lyrical violence with a tense and uncomfortable atmosphere that refuses to let the listener move on. Apostles of the Flesh is intentional. It’s meticulously crafted. And metal or not, -ii- undoubtedly possesses the Metal Spirit™.

Two elements in particular drive this album’s high caliber: Ruzic’s vocals and l’Huillier’s drums. By turns conflicted (“The Birth of Venus”), seductive (“Sisyphus in Red”), defiant (“Where the Diamonds are Hurled”), and spiteful (“Under the Skin”), Ruzic guides the listener through an examination of the body and its inextricable link to the spirit. Lyrically, she’s transgressive like Ethel Cain or GGGOLDDD, but less direct. Her delivery hies closer to Chelsea Wolfe or Darkher, although -ii- fosters a greater sense of rhythmic urgency. This is largely accomplished by l’Huillier’s standout performance, both carnal and tribal. Hammering at his kit with artful brutality, l’Huillier drives ritualistic numbers (“Sisters of the Coven,” “Digging for Blood”), stricken passages (“Under the Skin,” “When Beauty is a Crime”), and enraptured crescendos (“The Birth of Venus”) with the same skilled hand. The spiraling climax of “The Fountain of Helicon” is a high point, as l’Huillier recklessly hurtles the listener toward the fabled spring. L’Huillier brings an intensity to Apostles of the Flesh that, combined with Ruzic’s provocative and emotive singing, cements this album not just as a collection of good songs, but as an intense, ritualistic experience.

Not only is Racine responsible for the musical arrangements, but he also handles much of the production. The mix is big and spacious, and each instrument gets plenty of room to flourish. Even in the most chaotic moments of Apostles of the Flesh, when drums, vocals, strings, or synths rise to a fever pitch, each element is clear and vibrant (“The Birth of Venus,” “Lotis,” “The Fountain of Helicon”). His use of the soundstage is equally impressive, and because of this, Apostles of the Flesh excels in a pair of headphones over a speaker system. Quivering strings and ethereal synths dynamically float through the space, creating a lost, forlorn sensation on “When Beauty is a Crime” and “Virginia’s Mirror.” Ruzic sounds so close and so private amid the waves and rainfall of spoken word piece “L’Onde et l’Abysse,” it’s as if she speaks to the listener alone.

Apostles of the Flesh is not an album to play in the background, and it’s not for everyone. It demands both your attention and an emotional investment to shine, but shine it does. Some might balk at a 65-minute runtime or note that several songs go on long after Ruzic is done singing. I consider it a testament to Racine’s compositional prowess that these longer outros feel valuable and that the album holds my attention front to back. Apostles of the Flesh is passionate, vulnerable, and cathartic. For those willing to commit, -ii- offers an intense, surreal journey you won’t soon forget.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: PCM
Label: Self-Released
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook | Instagram | Youtube
Releases Worldwide: October 3rd, 2025

The post -ii- – Apostles of the Flesh Review appeared first on Angry Metal Guy.

Freed from the shadows of With Love’s padded cells, Camgirl’s milieu is no less engaging, ushering us from the asylum to the sweat-soaked euphoria and flashy lights of the night club. A mix of Joy Division-style punk pop and New Order-tinged dark-wave electronica (“LADIE’S NIGHT”), Crippling Alcoholism still manage to keep their crazy intact, at times channeling Mamaleek (“Pretty in Pink”) as well as Swans (“Pliers”). While Jonathan’s ebullient, saccharine-sweet synths and spacy atmospherics drive most of Camgirl’s melodies, it’s Peter’s bass, Stefan’s and newcomer Alyce’s guitar work, and Danny Sher’s drums that serve as the gothically grimy counterpoint. From spattered money shots of techno-erratic beats (“Pay Pigs”) to full-on drum-addled grindcore cacophony, replete with Alyce’s black metal screams (“CAMGIRL”), Crippling Alcoholism encases Camgirl in a shiny pink, glitz-shimmering wrapper that hides rotten candy, exposing the darkly fetid, degenerate underbelly of sex sold in the digital age.

As crucial to Crippling Alcoholism as any synth chord, guitar lick, or drum beat are the lyrics and vocals. Ever-present and immediately recognizable is the broodingly dulcet, Tom Waits meets Peter Steele baritone of Tony Castrati, who joins Alyce and a cast of guest vocalists—Juliet Gordon (Luxury Skin), Meredith Haines (Latter), and Aki McCullough (Ameokama)—to bring Bella’s Camgirl story to life. Catchy verses and hook-filled choruses abound, as Castrati sings on “Saran Wrapped Cash,” the words of Bella’s heartbroken father, ‘Should I kill myself? Well, funny you should ask,’ before admitting ‘I can’t see through your eyes cause mine are filled with hate,’ the song ending with Bella reminiscing about childhood, a Dark Rooms-esque diatribe of Alyce’s spoken word over airy synths. Other highlights include the super catchy “bedrot,” as I imagine a basement-dwelling Bella fan, drooling hungrily in the glow of his sex-filled laptop, poppily sings the chorus, ‘A monster, I’m a monster, Baby I’m a god damn monster,’ before screaming ‘I fucking hate the way I look, Yeah, I look like a fat fucking scumbag,’ in a heart-wrenching pique of self-loathing. Then the cinematic end credits style of album closer “despair,” as Meredith Haines embodies a used and abused Bella who has given in to her own hate and in true Lingua Ignota fashion screams at the world of degenerate consumerism that’s broken her, ‘You’ve always been nothing, A big vacuous nothing, I’ll squat down and I’ll piss in your fucking wounds!’ Camgirl is cinematically sexy, brash, and bristling with an in-your-face aggression, a soundtrack worthy of the smuttiest subject-specific script Tarantino could pen.

With a runtime pushing just over sixty-four minutes, Camgirl’s fishnet-clad gams are giantessic but void of severable length. Crippling Alcoholism cram necessary meaning into every second as the strength of the story and great songwriting carry the day, while Eric Sauter’s mix and Derek Blackburn’s master perfectly capture the dark and light dichotomy of Bella’s downward spiral. My one cavil with Camgirl falls, too, however, at the feet of the mix and master, as there are moments throughout where Castrati’s vocals, in particular, get washed out, most noticeably amidst the lows of “screentime”‘s piano melancholy and the highs of “TARAVISTA”‘s synthetic ecstasy.

Crippling Alcoholism fearlessly spit in the face of convention and expectation, reinventing themselves without betraying their power, which on Camgirl is the manufacture of feigned happiness. I love this iteration of the band, Alyce’s addition lending an even sharper metallic edge to what was already a whetted sword. Without much time to stew, Crippling Alcoholism have emerged with another darkened slice of excellence, deepening my fandom and increasing my excitement for what comes next.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: N/A | Format Reviewed: Stream
Label: Portrayal of Guilt
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: September 12th, 2025

The post Crippling Alcoholism – Camgirl Review appeared first on Angry Metal Guy.

With a permanent² vocalist alongside Weisnewski’s own contributions, Truth Paste is closer to powerviolence or grind than previous outings. But a vague resemblance to these genres is as close as it gets. The record is a breezy 23 minutes across 11 tracks (check one: very short runtimes), and there are more passages of outright beatdown, screaming, chaotic metallic insanity (check 2: silly heavy and intense). But it’s what’s going on within that runtime, and both during and between those especially heavy moments that matters. Nuclear Dudes don’t waste a second. Opening on a bizarre tribute to Guns ‘n Roses’ “Welcome to the Jungle”—which includes using that song’s literal intro as their own—the duo switch in a flash to an electro-grind(core), erratically accented by an array of eclectic sound effects, which is a recurrent style on the album. Approximately four and a half minutes in, it becomes clear that the preceding two tracks (“Napalm Life,” “Holiday Warfare”) functioned as a violent induction to themes that are to follow, as the title track ramps up to a pure hardcore breakdown to a woman crying “ohhhh myy gawwd it’s—”, and the ensuing chuggery forms the first ‘breather’ for the listener. That concludes the most normal segment on the record.

Truth Paste is weird, but it’s not incoherent. Despite the apparently revolving door of blooping, whirring keys and sound effects, and tempo changes that would give an F1 driver whiplash (“Napalm Life,” “Dirty 20,” “Death at Burning Man”), the whole thing flows remarkably well. Pretty much all songs transition seamlessly from the previous with overlapping samples, humming melodies, basslines, or keyboard something-or-other. Nuclear Dudes hit their peak at moments when the electronica-mixed-with-guitar transforms into synthwave by way of grind, making for ridiculously fun grooves (“Concussion Protocol,” “Space Juice,” “Pelvis Presley”) if not some very entertaining melodic excursions. Or perhaps the best parts are during those rapid-fire switches, where goofy meets brutal and jaw-smashing breakdowns are followed or preceded by floaty ethereality (“Truth Paste,” “Juggalos for Congress”).

As a novelty band that takes not taking itself seriously quite seriously, Nuclear Dudes are doing everything right. Track titles are dumb, the movie samples cheesy, and the harsh vox mix is a wry recollection of a bygone bedroom death/grind era. Nuclear Dudes own every last second of it, from the roboticised vocals (“Napalm Life,” “Concussion Protocol,” “Cyrus the Virus”) to the videogame battle sequence vibes of the keyboard gymnastics (“Dirty 20,” “Space Juice”). It’s almost annoying how un-annoying it is. And since you effectively experience it as one extended track, given those instant transitions, it becomes very easy to just vibe with it and not worry about which song you’re actually hearing at any moment, or whether what you just heard was genius or just silly. But in having superior flow to its predecessors, Truth Paste also possesses fewer true standout moments. There are no lows, it’s true, but there are also no epic peaks—no “Many Knifes,” for instance. Then again, this record is committing more strongly to the meth-head electro-grind genre than Boss Blades, and in that respect, kind of smashes it.

If you want to have a very entertaining 23 minutes and six seconds, Truth Paste should be your go-to. Nuclear Dudes has taken recruiting a vocalist, and evolving into their full hybrid mad-subgenre form in their stride, as they continue to half-sprint, half-dance ahead. This record is so tight, fun, and irritatingly self-aware that personal taste is practically irrelevant. I’m no longer going to express surprise that anything Nuclear Dudes creates will be fucking great.

Rating: Great
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Self-Release
Website: Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: September 5th, 2025

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My chief criticisms of Cruce Signatus were levied at its lack of variety in both tone and tempo, and II goes so hard in addressing the former that it somehow absolves itself of the latter. II does feature a handful of tempo shake-ups in its back third, but the record so often drastically departs from its predecessor’s uniformly villainous tone as to not really need them. Opener “Conversio Militiae – Viam Justorum” debuts in expected fashion, all dramatic chords and ascending arpeggios invoking a classical idea of Hell, before gracefully pivoting into a movement that I can only describe as “1990’s JRPG End Credits Theme”-core. Swaths of II feel overtly uplifting, and even when it doesn’t, tracks like “Milites Christi II – Gesta Francorum” are so whimsical and dynamic as to substantially differentiate this record from Cruce Signatus’ first act. Simultaneously, II feels so loyal to Cruce Signatus’ established identity that no one could mistake it for a project under any other name. As an expansion of that identity, II is revelatory.

II is full of unexpected victories for a project with an already impressive foundation, with one of the most surprising being just how well it succeeds as a standalone experience. Cruce Signatus’ first act split the difference between soundtrack and traditional album in its construction, and while II retains the soundtrack vibes, its individual tracks feel more self-contained. Each has a distinct identity, resulting in a tonal trajectory that gives the record a pronounced overarching structure akin to a classic “hero’s journey” narrative. While the mid-album cuts (namely “Milites Christi” I & II) feel gritty and combative, the bookends exhibit neon-drenched euphoria, with the massive closing track “Poena” making for what feels like the most gratifying possible conclusion at the end of the journey, ominous stinger foreshadowing Act III notwithstanding.

Beyond Cruce Signatus’ structural and tonal innovations, II just straight up fucking jams. While bearing plenty of introspective moments, II represents an exponentially more energetic, almost power metal-fied take on this project’s sound over its predecessor, which is honestly difficult to wrap my head around considering that it’s also unquestionably the more varied of the two records. It helps, then, that II’s high-end feels notably less shrill than that of Cruce Signatus’ debut, though parts of “Pro Emendatione Malefactorum” occasionally grate through loftily ambitious reprisal. I do find that the overall mix feels less punchy and impactful this time around, but as the electronic soundscape remains lush and engaging, minor production gripes hardly detract from the experience.

II is such an impressive evolutionary leap for Cruce Signatus that even its micro adjustments impress. That each track now naturally blends into the next, eschewing the debut’s odd fades to total silence, is nearly as strong a signal of this project’s growth as its bold leaps into unprecedented emotional territory. Moreover, II fully assures me that this project has more than enough juice to play out its full, four-act structure. If Frazer’s ambitions are this high halfway through, I’m ecstatic to hear where this project goes by its end. Just don’t wait until then to jump in, because II stands shoulder to shoulder with the best records of the burgeoning synth metal scene on its own merits. Oh, and I’ll retract what I said three years ago: I’ll take another three Pillaging Villagers records, please.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: PCM
Label: Self Release
Websites: crucesignatus.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/crucesignatusband
Releases Worldwide: April 4th, 2025

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Dissocia

Straight out of the gate, the dancing arpeggio-like guitar line and swelling synths that open “Existentialist” make clear that To Lift the Veil is going to be a wild ride. And so it proves. Across a chaotic 41 minutes and change, Dissocia lurch between progressive melodeath, something that approaches deathcore in a few places (“He Who Dwells”), symphonic synth movements, dreamy Unreqvited-esque sequences and more, the whole often set to weirdly discordant, pulsing rhythms that border on industrial groove. All in all, the album’s structures have the same levels of predictability as the movements of a severely inebriated person crossing an ice rink. This need not necessarily be viewed as a bad thing though. Flys is both a talented guitarist and a versatile vocalist, his harsh vox often recalling Gojira’s Joe Duplantier (“Existentialist”), while his surprisingly delicate cleans, which occasionally wander into Caligula’s Horse territory (“Evasion”), offer a much-needed extra dimension. Similarly, Valcázar’s work on drums is stellar and the sheer unpredictability of this record is part of its charm.

The challenge for Dissocia is to somehow tie the numerous threads of To Lift the Veil into a cohesive tapestry, rather than a ball of yarn. At its strongest, they manage this well. There’s a rabid groove to “Samsara” that it’s almost impossible not to enjoy, while the slow build synth opening to “Zenosyne” gradually unfolds itself, the tension building, before the Flys’ guitar lets loose progressive death riffs and Valcázar unleashes overlapping broadsides behind the kit. This flows well into “The Lucifer Effect,” which similarly shifts between soaring moments of chaos and more reflective passages. While the turn-on-a-dime nature of the craziness does in some ways recall Devin Townsend, it’s not until the heavily distorted screams at the midway point of closer “Out of Slumber” that Hevy Devy really shows through in the vocals.

Not everything on To Lift the Veil works though and, at times, it feels like Dissocia are losing their grasp on the myriad elements of the record. “He Who Dwells” is the most obvious example of this, as the progressive extreme elements, which often mirror opener “Existentialist,” stray into deathcore territory, particularly in Valcázar’s drumming. This simply doesn’t gel with the rest of To Lift the Veil. Equally, the drifting moods of “Evasion” seem rather aimless at times, while Flys’ vocals rather get away from him on closer “Out of Slumber,” which by its end feels like someone desperately trying to claw themselves out of slumber and into wakefulness. The production, also handled by Flys, doesn’t always help, with the drums sometimes seeming to disappear down a hole (middle of “He Who Dwells”) before roaring back to the front of the stage, and the whole thing feeling loud and slightly flat, despite the DR6.

You have to admire the vision and ambition on show on To Lift the Veil, which in other hands would likely have been a hot mess. Far from easing themselves into things on their debut, Dissocia have thrown everything at this record and some of it’s really good (“Samsara” and “Zenosyne”). The stunning artwork by Rein Van Oyen (Haken) gives a sense of the surreal, expansive journey you can expect, but perhaps not the chaotic nature of the ride. I hope Dissocia have a second album in them because, with just a little more refinement and focus to iron out some of the inconsistencies, as well as improve the production a little, there is a helluva lot of very interesting potential here.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Willowtip Records
Websites: dissociaofficial.bandcamp.com/album/to-lift-the-veil | facebook.com/dissociaofficial
Releases Worldwide: March 21st, 2025

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Unreqvited

While closer to a traditional album in structure than Unreqvited’s previous output, A Pathway to the Moon gives the impression of a cinematic soundtrack. Flowing between something that, at times, nudges up against Ihsahn territory (“The Antimatter”), synth-dominated ambient work and soaring guitar- and vocal-led pieces that could almost be Caligula’s Horse in places (“The Starforger”), there’s a lot to take in. It’s credit to 鬼 that the album retains a cohesive feel, despite its chameleonic mood shifts. Bookended by the percussion-free dreams of “Overture: I Disintegrate” and “Departure: Everlasting Dream,” A Pathway to the Moon has the feel of a journey, guiding the listener through shifting landscapes. Or moonscapes. For all the lush synth work and keys, there’s something desolate and sad about the album, which has a much more despondent feel to it than 2021’s Beautiful Ghosts.

Perhaps A Pathway to the Moon’s feeling of loneliness is driven by the vocals. It turns out that 鬼’s voice, previously a wordless, howling demon, is actually high, clear, and fragile, with an almost ethereal edge to it, especially when double-tracked (“Void Essence / Frozen Tears”). In places, I was reminded of Mark Garrett’s (Kardashev) cleans, which is a very good thing indeed. While clean vocals now dominate, both black metal rasps and DSBM shrieks have their place in the mix but, from the outset to the close, it’s Unreqvited’s new face that we see the most. Whether set to warbling electronica (“Into the Starlit Beyond”) or dancing guitar lines (“The Starforger”), it’s hard to see the focus as anything but 鬼’s voice. There may be a degree to which this is because A Pathway to the Moon shatters my expectations of what an Unreqvited album is but there is no doubt that, after six albums more or less instrumental albums, 鬼 has found his voice.

The prominent introduction, not just of vocals, but of clean singing, came as a surprise to me. However, on reflection, it is also a natural progression in Unreqvited’s sound from previous outing, Beautiful Ghosts. It also aligns with the shift into being more of a touring band. While 鬼’s (surprisingly) strong voice carries the transition, to a certain degree, the compositional focus has also shifted slightly away from the gorgeous soundscapes that were the hallmark of Mosaic I and Empathica. While “Void Essence / Frozen Tears” showcases all aspects of Unreqvited’s sound to excellent effect, other tracks (most notably “Into the Starlit Beyond”) feel almost like something was taken away to make space for the vocals. To put it another way, rather than the vocals embellishing or enhancing what was great about Unreqvited, what used to be achieved instrumentally, is now achieved through the vocals. It’s still very good but weirdly has the feel of treading water, rather than moving forward. The drums are also pushed way down into the mix to make space for the vox, leaving the percussion lacking a bit of impact.

If that last paragraph reads as heavily critical of Unreqvited, it’s not meant to. I really enjoy A Pathway to the Moon but I’ve been on something of a journey with it. I generally don’t listen to advance tracks of things I know I’m going to review, preferring to come into the album as a whole. This meant the shift to singing caught me off guard. After I got over my surprise, I loved it but, the more time I spent with the album, the more I missed some of the rich textures and dynamics from previous records, some of which were left on the cutting room floor. That said, this is a hugely enjoyable, emotively written record that I thoroughly recommend.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Prophecy Productions
Websites: unreqvited.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/unreqvited
Releases Worldwide: February 7th, 2025

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The phrase “if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it” applies to few artists quite so well as MBR. For any newcomers or rubberneckers, MBR is, to put it lightly, a mix of Dragonforce-adjacent energetic riffage, the classical-minded bombast of Johann Sebastian Bach, and a chiptune videogame soundtrack. The metal is fully synthesized with programmed drums, floppy drive synth riffs, and lightning-quick keyboards. This is how it’s been for ten albums over the last eight years and how it’ll be in the future. If that sounds dismissive, it shouldn’t; MBR’s is a wholly unique sound that works extraordinarily well. However, a man cannot, or perhaps should not, be so prolific in releasing music without even surface-level changes between albums. Love has refined and then maintained the MBR sound across nearly a dozen albums, while progressively updating and experimenting with his songwriting approach, be it through epic, 15+ minute song lengths (C:/DEFRAG), adding a vocalist (Direct Memory Access), or even donning the occasional baroque harpsichord (Personal Computer). This naturally begs the question as to how Hardwarez might aim to differentiate itself…

…which it does by being heavy. Stupidly, obscenely, disgustingly heavy at times. I even spun the full MBR discography to be sure, and while a few parts in Personal Computer come close, one could confidently say that Hardwarez is some of MBR’s heaviest material to date, and it’s a blast. Opener “BIOS” boots up Hardwarez with thrashy riffs and fast soloing, while the following “MOBO” builds towards colossal, Bach-iavellian refrains full of classical grandeur. And then, “CPU” drops a riff-heavy enough to brick my computer and is a seriously strong contender for my Song o’ the Year. The heaviest songs hit all the harder because of how they’re placed within the album. Hardwarez is a masterclass in pacing, creating clear peaks and valleys spread across the 42-minute runtime. “RAM” is a joyous, 80’s-infused slab of riffs and hyperactive solos that fits snugly between the less intense “GPU” and the slick, powerful “FDD,” with the latter’s extended synth-y outro escalating beautifully into the immediately massive “HDD.” Excellent pacing like this makes it nigh impossible to grow bored, and when the album is over, you’ll already feel ready to spin it again.

In the wake of Hardwarez strongest moments, it’s easy to ruminate over nebulous missed opportunities. While MBR has historically leaned into progressive songwriting, Hardwarez is much more direct; “CASE” being the most obvious, um, case. It ends Hardwarez on a high note and features one of the best, and heaviest, riffs, but it follows a strictly repetitive ABAB structure. Compared to the more adventurously composed “RAM” and “FDD” that augment their strongest moments with build-ups and varied structure, “CASE” begins to frustrate. I want to return for the whole experience of a song, not just one (admittedly stellar) riff. Hardwarez heaviness is its strongest aspect, and, I believe, would be all the stronger were it entreated with bolder songwriting, which Love has proven ad nauseam that he is capable of. Still, this might be unfair. Hardwarez is tight as hell, extremely consistent, and endlessly replayable. It’s a clear success, and worth celebrating—but it’s Love’s own fault for proving that he can do even better.

Beyond that, “PSU” is a slight let-down with some melodically cluttered sections, but its worst sin is being surrounded by excellence, and that’s what Hardwarez provides in spades. It might not break the score counter like Keygen Church’s Nel Nome Del Codice on account of being less groundbreaking and challenging in its scope, but Hardwarez is nevertheless another essential MBR release to add to the growing pile. It’s as energetic and intoxicating as ever, and has shown that this heavier iteration of MBR is one of its best and deserves to be explored even furtheERROR—ERROR—ERROR—ERRORRRRRRRRRR

PAGE_FAULT_DEUS_TE_DERELIQUIT

*** STOP: 0x000000D666 (0x0000000M, 0x0000000B, 0x0000000R, 0xDSBYOE)

*** strt1.sys – Address DSBYOE base at 387440×9, DateStamp na1833nms

Beginning dump of physical memory

Physical memory dump incomplete
incomplete
incomplete

There is nobody to contact for further assistance

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C:\Users\vittorio>shutdown /r

–
–
-restart completERROR—ERROR———ERRORRRRRRR

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Rating: Very Good!!
DR: 4 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps
Label: Metal Blade Records
Websites: facebook | bandcamp | official
Releases Worldwide: October 11th, 2024

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