As an ambient album, Pike Dreams leans heavily towards synth, with touches of piano, barely-there percussion, and heavily-muted guitars. It carries a feeling of nostalgia that manifests dualistically in fuzzed-out soundscapes and grainy warmth à la Boards of Canada (“1066,” “1381”), and on the other through dungeon-synth, and quasi-medieval horns and melodies (“1328”). This seems appropriate given the record’s historical concept. Its modernity surfaces in subtle hints at an industrial edge to riffs that break the surface of haze and resonate between echoing pulses, reminding me fragmentarily of Phal:Angst and Haunted Plasma (“1066,” “1789,” “2026”). What Pike Dreams is most of all, however, is quiet. Regardless of the music’s precise direction, it remains blanketed by fog with every element subdued, magnifying the meaning of the word ‘reflection’ in the album’s description.

The Mountain King take the ‘less is more’ approach not only to volume, but also to the structure of the record and the compositions themselves. Pike Dreams could be described as fluctuating between introspective calm and confident expressiveness, but this translates to a change in intensity from 1 to 1.5 on a scale of 10. Gentle pulses trade places with blunt, horn-accented chugs (“476,” “1789”), strings and tremolo blur together in indistinct softness (“1525,” “2010”), and trap beats support liquid guitar-synth hybrids (“1789,” “2026”). Often, the blurred boundaries of physically and synthetically-crafted sounds are beautiful, melodically and precisely in their dreamlike ethereality (“1066,” “1524”). Often, however, do the persistent understatement of movement and omnipresent muting hamper Pike Dreams’ ability to gain its listeners’ attention. This muffling is no doubt intentional, and does work well at intervals: for instance, in the service of contrast or transition (“2010”); acting as a musing pause (“1524”); or to amplify a melody’s poignancy through almost painful delicacy (“1066”). Yet its unequivocal application to all moments of all songs can make even the grandest passages underwhelming.

In this regard, it’s uncertain how a listener is meant to relate Pike Dreams to its subject matter. On the one hand, the deliberate vagueness of the soundscape mirrors a look back through the mists of time, and allows the audience to project their own sentiments onto its subtle evocation. On the other hand, this same nature prevents the audience from connecting to the music itself, and from connecting the music to its supposed year of reference. More minimalist tracks (“1328,” “1381,” “2026”) may work better when the listener detaches, but more expressive ones (“1066,” “1524,” “2010”) when the listener invests in their refrains—and the ones in those tracks are often very lovely. Whether there’s an issue here will be down to the role one designates to a concept album—especially of the instrumental and ambient kind.

Pike Dreams is as hard to pin down as you might expect from the above and from its appropriately mysterious title. As a whispering, quite beautiful, backdrop, it makes for a soothing and introspective experience that I can’t deny I enjoy returning to. In many ways, it’s a breath of fresh air amidst a constant storm of fast and extremely heavy music that so often fills these halls, and a chance to exhale and let go in a time of conflict and strife. The Mountain King may not have done enough to fully embody their themes or impress their compositions’ identities upon the listener, but how it feels for the duration is worth something.

Rating: Good
DR: 10 | Format Reviewed: VBR mp3
Label: Void Key Recordings
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: March 6th, 2026

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Halocraft’s “music first, atmosphere second” approach serves them well. It’s hard not to let oneself be borne away by the dreamy, leisurely guitar lines, which bear a fair resemblance to God Is an Astronaut or Black Narcissus. The Sky Will Remember is much closer to the cheerful, upbeat nature of Halocraft’s prior two full-lengths, with tons of tunes that are sticky-sweet but somehow never cloying. On the other hand, To Leave a Single Wolf Alive is a significant deviation from Halocraft’s usual style. Aside from its noticeably darker tone, it’s less reliant on hooks and, therefore, its slower burn took me a little longer to appreciate. Careful attention to both records will reveal subtle, whimsical bass counterpoints to the twin guitars.

The real strength of Halocraft’s songwriting is favoring clearly defined melodies over the sprawling free-form tendencies common in the post-rock genre. The songs loosely adhere to the tried and true pop structure, with verses and choruses that just happen to be instrumental in this case. I am, personally, partial toward The Sky Will Remember. Tracks such as “A Headful of Dreams,” “And in That Light, I Saw You,” and “Particle” never fail to lift my spirits. To Leave a Single Wolf Alive is there when I’m in the mood for something more melancholic but equally pleasant. While it does lean more heavily on repetition, there are moments that stand out, such as the slithering grooves of “And the Weak Suffer What They Must” and the faint goth-rock shades of “They Rest in Flames.” Though very different from one another, both albums are versatile enough to excel in the foreground and the background.

After spending nearly a year with both, I can confidently say that Halocraft has accomplished the difficult and paradoxical task of making two opposite yet complementary records. The Sky Will Remember and To Leave a Single Wolf Alive are a refreshing reversal of many instrumental post-rock norms, like meandering songwriting and lack of meaningful melodies. They are so easy to listen to and enjoy, no matter what mood I find myself in. I may connect with The Sky Will Remember more, but I appreciate Halocraft’s willingness and capability to expand their sound into darker avenues on To Leave a Single Wolf Alive. My hope is that on their next record they can take both of these disparate strands and weave them together. For now, though, you can’t go wrong with either choice.

Tracks to Check Out (The Sky Will Remember): “A Headful of Dreams,” “And in That Light, I Saw You”

Tracks to Check Out (To Leave a Single Wolf Alive): “And the Weak Suffer What They Must,” “They Rest in Flames”

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One way that Asira describes their music is “gold-tinged black metal,”¹ but I would be more inclined to call it black-tinged gold metal. As Ink in Water is resplendent in like manner to Deadly Carnage’s Endless Blue, both of which are buoyed by similarly soaring vocals. Jack Reynolds has some of the best cleans in the business, harmonizing neatly with Martin and Lydia Williams when the occasion calls for it. The smooth, invigorating guitars have carried over from Efference, particularly during the more tranquil moments, but most vestiges of blackgaze have evaporated. The remaining black metal influence on As Ink in Water comes when the vocals sometimes switch to sharp rasps. In less scrupulous hands, these opposites could have easily clashed unpleasantly.

Luckily, Asira has an incredibly strong mastery of the art of contrast. The verses of “Cauterise” are commanded by wild blast beats and furious growls, yet they willingly give way to the glowing, clean-sung choruses like the night yielding to the rising sun. Speaking of which, “In Sunrise” is, in my estimation, the crown jewel of As Ink in Water. While mainly consisting of bright guitar arpeggios and infectious melodies, the juxtaposition of Reynolds’ snarls and Lydia Williams’ soprano at the midpoint is chill-inducing. This polarity also exists between the individual songs; the fact that the aggression of “Cauterise” and the tenderness of “Clarity” can sound like they belong on the same record is a testament to Asira’s skill as songwriters.

It’s clear that Asira put a great deal of thought and care into the compositions of As Ink in Water. El Cuervo’s wish for less repetition and more variety in the quieter parts of Efference has been granted. No matter the intensity, the songs never stall or stop moving forward. Even those that appear unassuming on the surface manifest important details upon closer listening, such as the delicate bass grooves in “Clarity” or the deliberate arrangement of backing vocals in “Still.” These songs might require a bit more patience than the others, but they are just as important to the overall canvas of color. The only tracks that don’t add much are the twin interludes, “Descent” and “Ascent,” though at just one minute apiece, this is easy to forgive.

Asira has fashioned a truly unique and heartwarming work of art that defies easy description. As the title of As Ink in Water implies, the light and dark elements may seem disparate at first, but over time, they mix perfectly together. Asira set out to portray the universal human experiences of “anxiety, grief, fury, compassion, and healing,” all of which can easily be both heard and felt. I find myself emotionally invested in As Ink in Water to the point where multiple 11-minute songs seem to vanish in the blink of an eye. Although this year is getting late, I feel confident that this special record will stick with me into and beyond the next.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: PCM
Label: Self-Release
Websites: asira.bandcamp.com | asira-band.com | facebook.com/asirauk
Releases Worldwide: November 14th, 2025

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The academic analogy suits Mongraf, given the background of its primary composer. Erik Aanonsen is polymathic; he serves as vocalist and guitarist, writes the music and lyrics, and even provides nykkelharpa (a Swedish keyed fiddle). Aanonsen also leverages his degree in film scoring as producer and recording engineer for Occultation.² With a keyboardist (Ingvill Trydal) and another fiddler in tow (Sunniva Molvær Ihlhaug), Monograf sculpt cinematic tracks that sound like a less droning Wyatt E. These songs weave serpentine riffs, atmospheric synths, and folky fiddling into a loud/quiet/loud tapestry. The fiddle melodies frequently take center stage, crescendoing into intense payoffs (“The Prophet,” “Cripplegate”). Despite being more compressed than a cinematic album should be, the production is delightfully organic, especially its crackling guitar tones. Essentially, Occultation scores its cover art: one can feel the heat rising in this druid-filled sonic desert.

Occultation explores a more metal subject than its post-rock predecessor, mostly with success. With album two, Monograf adds doom, progressive, and even extreme metal credentials to their CV.³ Aanonsen, second guitarist Martin Sivertsen, and bassist Hanna Sannes Aanonsen often begin songs with the droning simplicity of an Om-inspired riff that develops into complex noodling à la prog-era Opeth (“The Prophet,” “Occultation”). Drummer Erlend Markussen Kilane adds more complexity, roving between jazzy snare work, thundering tom hits, and scene-stealing fills (“Cripplegate,” “Carrion Seller”). Vocally, Aanonsen still delivers the ghostly cleans that dominate Nadir, but he adds a raspy shout to Occultation. For the most part, these harsh vocals create urgency that the music doesn’t quite call for. But occasionally, Monograf snags a catchy chorus out of Aanonsen’s shout (“Occultation”).

Monograf aptly structures Occultation as a whole, though the songwriting strategy grows repetitive. Occultation is a dyad; a mid-album breather (“Ashes”) divides halves comprised of two longer songs. “The Prophet” and “Cripplegate” kick things off with compelling call-and-response arrangements: the riffs call, the fiddle responds. “Ashes” is a welcome reprieve, smothering intimate acoustic chords and Aanonsen’s gorgeous cleans underneath drum flourishes that swell in volume. The track comes off, however, as a bit of an academic exercise. Once “Carrion Seller” kicks in, the listener realizes that the call-and-response song structure is something of a formula. Fortunately, closer “Occultation” varies the formula, feeling more like a slow burn than a riff/fiddle conversation.

Monograf should feel secure in their new, metal-adjacent specialization. Despite my criticism of Occultation’s repetitive songwriting, its 40-minute runtime invites repeat visitations of its alluring soundscape. Fans of drone and doom should especially take notice. While its folk-infused heaviness is not an intervention on par with the most recent Wyatt E. release, Occultation skillfully balances hypnotism and memorability in its riffwork. On monograph three, I suspect that Monograf will inch closer to the oasis in the desert that is the tenure track.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Nordic Mission
Websites: monograf.bandcamp.com/ | facebook.com/monografband | instagram.com/monografband
Releases Worldwide: November 14th, 2025

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Astronoid

The core sound of Stargod is unmistakably Astronoid, but this time the group leans further into pop-focused songwriting. Their trademark mix of prog, shoegaze, and post-rock remains intact with all the familiar hallmarks: gleeful blast beats, major-key harmonies, soaring choirboy vocals, and buoyant synths. However, they’re used in the service of sharper, chorus-driven compositions that rely on dynamics and layering to strengthen their saccharine, high-energy attack. Slower, ballad-like tracks such as “Stargod” and “Beneath the Lights” exemplify this approach, building evocative, vocal-centered songs on synth-forward grooves while guitar harmonies are added or stripped away for maximum impact around a memorable chorus. These are nicely balanced by more immediate up-tempo cuts which swirl around a hypnotizing central synth motif (“Explosive”) or follow a pop-punk tinged guitar charge (“Dream Protocol ’88”) which melds the band’s familiar sense of high-energy elation with this record’s improved sense of dynamics and hooks. Stargod is a thoroughly pleasant and varied record—balanced, uplifting, and easy to throw on to just bathe in Astronoid’s signature jubilance.

Part of Stargod’s shimmer comes from the newfound confidence radiating from Astronoid’s vocalist, guitarist, and principal songwriter, Brett Boland. His ethereal tenor has always been central to the band’s sound, but here it shines brighter than ever, carried by lush vocal harmonies that elevate every track. Beyond his usual roles, Boland also handles drums on this record and co-mixed the entire album with bassist and synth player Daniel Schwartz. The result is Astronoid’s best-sounding release yet. The synths, in particular, stand out—glowing with both playful innocence and heartfelt emotion—while every element, from the warm, nuanced drumming to the crunchy, reverberant guitar leads, feels immediate and expressive. Mid-tempo rockers like “Third Shot” and “Sabian” land especially hard, gliding between soaring choruses, restrained verses, and climactic solos. Altogether, Stargod feels like the complete, uncompromising realization of a band finally confident in pursuing their true sound.

My biggest critique of Stargod might seem like a bit of a cop-out, but my favorite tracks are the ones that most closely resemble the blast-heavy style of Air. The opening tracks, “Embark” and “Love Weapon,” bring back the high-energy, blast-driven sound of Astronoid’s debut, but with tighter songwriting and immaculate production. This style makes a return on the closing track, “Arrival,” which ends the album with a stunning climax. On repeated listens, I find myself feeling slightly underwhelmed by the middle section of Stargod as it relaxes its grip on the throttle. While those middle tracks are still beautiful and engaging in their own right, I do find myself longing ever so slightly for more blast beat goodness and it’s a bit disappointing that my favorite moments still come from the songs that echo the band’s earlier sound. That said, taken as a whole, Stargod is still a remarkable accomplishment.

With Stargod, I see Astronoid in a position similar to where Leprous found themselves with Malina. While I miss the sheer bombast of Astronoid’s earlier sound, I can’t help but admire the impeccable craftsmanship on display as the band continues to evolve. Stargod is packed with intelligently written, dynamic pop songs that capture the magic of what made Astronoid special in the first place, while confidently showcasing the sonic maturity they’ve developed over the years. Is Stargod a true sequel to Air? Not at all—but it doesn’t need to be. It stands as an impressive record that thrives on its own strengths.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: 3DOT Recordings
Websites: astronoidband.com | facebook.com/astronoidband
Releases Worldwide: November 7th, 2025

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Crafting delicate atmospheres remains Tuesday the Sky’s bread and butter. Taking notes from Sigur Rós and Brian Eno alike, Indoor Enthusiast drifts between moods and genres. On the minimalistic end of the spectrum, dreamy and introspective electronica tracks like “Zugzwang” and “The Last Lonely Lamppost” act as the base sound for the album. Drums and guitars provide additional instrumentation as counterbalance in both accentuating and maximalist ways, occasionally entering familiar metal territory (“The Nearest Exit May Be Behind You,” “Set Fire to the Stars”). While Matheos experimented with things like this alongside Kevin Moore in OSI, the material on Indoor Enthusiast is generally more low-key than OSI’s most somber moments. And sans vocals, the onus is even more on the songwriting to prove the album’s worth.

Indoor Enthusiast takes much better advantage of layers and texture than prior works. Drift kept its loadout of strange but exciting ideas separate, and most of The Blurred Horizon stuck to a quiet, minimalistic gloom. In contrast, Indoor Enthusiast fuses its elements together more often in both subtle and unsubtle ways. This leads to a stronger active experience while still making sense album flow-wise. Improved composition allows some of the quieter material to shine and pop (“Get Lost,” “Between Wind and Water”), and “Does It Need to Be So Loud?” even brings back the electronic alt-rock gloom of Disconnected. Deep build-ups lead to satisfying crescendos, with “Set Fire to the Stars” using the record’s full arsenal to make a case for the strongest Tuesday the Sky song yet. Not all of the record’s quirks land equally well. For instance, some of the glitchier effects used (“The Nearest Exit May Be Behind You,” “Memento Mori”) are distracting and take away from the album’s introspective vibe. But overall, Indoor Enthusiast’s songs have both the variety and quality to be distinct and interesting.

The instrumentation of Tuesday the Sky sounds as crisp as ever, a quality expected of Matheos. The rock instruments sound excellent, accentuating the wide variety of electronic effects at the core of the album. The album’s elements combine naturally and have plenty of room to breathe. Though wonderfully produced, it does feel like there is too much downtime between Indoor Enthusiast’s highlights. Matheos’ greatest strength is undoubtedly his tasteful and subtly complex guitar wizardry, and sometimes the nature of a project like Tuesday the Sky gets in the way of that strength—the back-to-back of twins “Ghost Train” and “Zugzwang” slowing down momentum early on. The second half of the album, fortunately, avoids the “background music” pitfall. While I do feel like the album still leaves something on the table, its strong highlights make the record a pleasant experience front to back.

Though wandering slightly off course at times, Indoor Enthusiast is the most cohesive Tuesday the Sky record yet. Its individual ingredients of rock, metal, and ambient electronic mix together better than before, with memorable dynamic shifts keeping things going. Compared to last year’s North Sea Echoes debut, Matheos has certainly improved the minimalistic experimental side of his songwriting; the album as a whole feels like it develops towards something. I do still think he can do even better, but he is making it work. I don’t know what direction Tuesday the Sky will go to next—if any—but Indoor Enthusiast gives this side of Matheos a fresh and solid foundation.

Rating: Good!
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Metal Blade Records
Websites: tuesdaythesky.bandcamp.com | tuesdaythesky.com | facebook.com/TuesdaytheSky
Releases Worldwide: October 24th, 2025

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-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

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On Om Moksha Ritam, Insomniac manages to craft a sound that is immediately recognizable yet distinctly their own. They merge the progressive psychedelia of Elder with the layered, textural approach of REZN, all filtered through the Southern-gothic tinge of fellow Georgians Baroness. The result is a body of songs that draw equally from the contemplative exploration of ’70s prog, Americana-dipped blues rock, and the anthemic heft of post-metal’s sludgier, power-chord-driven moments. What makes this combination work is not just the intuitive chemistry of the instrumentalists, but the commanding presence of vocalist Van Bassman. Each track is surprisingly vocal-driven, and Bassman conjures a sound somewhere between a bluesier Dax Riggs and a John Baizley who’s actually capable of singing. His baritone sits front and center for much of Om Moksha Ritam, often accompanied by vocal layers and effects, creating a kaleidoscopic swirl that amplifies the ebb and flow of the music as it moves between peaks and valleys.

It helps that Om Moksha Ritam’s tracklist is dynamic and well-paced, with each of its 7 songs offering subtle differentiation on Insomniac’s core formula. Much of this can be attributed to the interplay between guitarists Alex Avedissian and Mike Morris,² whose willingness to balance acoustic and effects-laden electric timbres gives the record a versatile and interesting palette. The guitars ferry the songs between quiet reflection and crushing grandeur. Whether it’s weaving intricate folky arpeggios together with tripped-out leads (“Desert”), harmonizing across doomy atmospheres (“Mountain”) or using post-rock tremolos to punctuate a well-earned climax (“Meditation), the guitar work on Om Moksha Ritam is consistently engaging and varied. Of course, this would be for naught without a strong rhythm section, but Insomniac has that as well. Drummer Amos Rifkin brings a loose, delicate touch to softer tracks like “Sea” and “Forest,” but escalates with thunderous weight when the music demands greater intensity. Meanwhile, bassist Juan Garcia provides a warm, full-bodied tone that both supports and embellishes the melodic core, keeping the songs anchored amid the dense layering of guitars and vocals, which is important on a track like the expansive and sprawling “Snow and Ice.”

Only a few minor inconsistencies keep Om Moksha Ritam from reaching the apex of Insomniac’s sound. The B-side leans away from emphatic “Hell yes” moments in favor of slower, navel-gazing jams. These tracks reward repeat listens but aren’t as immediately gripping. Closer “Awakening” falls just shy of the monumental highs of the opening salvo, with a climactic chorus that doesn’t land as powerfully as it could. For the most part, the record sounds fantastic and balances its many intricate layers, though there are moments (the refrains of “Mountain” and “Sea”) where Bassman’s voice overpowers the rest of the band in a psychedelic spiral. These issues don’t detract too heavily from the record’s overall impact, but they are worth noting.

Om Moksha Ritam takes you on a hallucinogenic trek across the desert, riffs shimmering like heat mirages, the atmosphere thick enough to choke a camel. Insomniac has delivered an album that takes listeners on a true musical journey, drenched in smoke-filled vibes, yet immediately rewarding. Their unique, psychedelic strain of “post-doom” metal blends familiar elements from beloved bands into something greater than the sum of its parts. If Insomniac invite me on another spiritual vision quest through the wastelands of sound, I’ll happily lace up my sandals, pack my water skin, and follow them straight into the void.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: PCM
Label: Blues Funeral Recording
Websites: insomniacvibes.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/insomniacatl
Releases Worldwide: September 1st, 2025

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Just as a forest has both light and dark spots, so does the music of Æl-Fierlen. In this way, they sound very much like a sister group of Helga, weaving elegant post-rock together with strands of black metal. There is also a discernible folk tinge akin to cousin groups Kalandra and Suldusk. Æl-Fierlen mainly sticks to the brighter style of Kalandra, like a well-lit clearing near the outskirts. But sometimes the compositions dare to venture into darker Suldusk territory with ominous whispers and guitar strumming that erupt into blast beats and shrieks without warning. What these three related groups have in common is a captivating female lead vocalist, and Æl-Fierlen is similarly rooted in Stephanie Moffatt’s enchanting voice.

A lot hinges on Moffatt’s vocals and she comes through in a big way. Her singing has an otherworldly, spectral quality, yet is also warm and inviting. Then, in the final verse of “To Sleep Eternal,” she shifts to a higher octave which heightens the drama for a flourishing finish. However, much like Sylvaine, she is not confined to ethereal tones, adopting a piercing bite when the occasion calls for it. “Eðe”¹ is the prime example of her masterful mixture of chilling rasps and guttural growls, and it also happens to be the song with the most black metal influence. Her coarse whispers cast a menacing shadow over “Pulrose,” just enough for an underscoring effect without being overused. All in all, Moffatt’s versatility is one of Æl-Fierlen’s most important assets.

Examined holistically, though, All Is Far Away seems a little thin in both sound and content. This is partly because the instrumental side often takes a stripped-back form, likely to accommodate the vocals. The other band members do have their moments to shine; I particularly enjoy it when Rob Melville’s guitar tremolos intertwine with drummer Ginger’s knotted double bass drum rhythms in the back half of “Ællmiht.” It’s just that these moments aren’t as pronounced or developed as I’d prefer. This might not have been much of an issue if there were a bit more to chew on. Clocking in at 33 minutes across only four tracks, All Is Far Away is barely longer than an EP. To Æl-Fierlen’s credit, even though most of the songs are in the 8-11 minute range, they flow silkily and hardly feel their length. One more such song would have been perfect.

Æl-Fierlen has a keen sense of grace and beauty. If, like me, you find it hard to set aside time to be physically present in nature, All Is Far Away offers a charming aural jaunt through the woods. Stephanie Moffatt’s delightful and multifaceted voice perfectly suits the evocative atmosphere. Each of the four tracks has its own distinct character, one leading into the next like a gently flowing brook. All Is Far Away is a cohesive and convincing first effort from a nascent group, albeit a tad on the lean side. While this may be more of a foundational work, I look forward to hearing what Æl-Fierlen builds atop it in the future.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Self-Release
Websites: ael-fierlen.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/AElFierlen
Releases Worldwide: September 19th, 2025

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Jord

Jord is a sharp change of pace from the rowdy Rimfrost and Omnicidal, but by no means an unwelcome one. The earlier material that Jurg composed while living a nomadic van lifestyle is a faintly blackened post-rock, suggesting that he mainly listened to Alcest’s Kodama while driving. Emellan Träden retains a similar, albeit more refined, sound. Jord splashes in the same honey-sweet mountain lake as Einvigi or Vorna, the melodies steeped generously in the emotive splendor of Eneferens. The new band members appear to have brought more urgency and heft to Jord. Riffs are more plentiful and Hravn takes every opportunity to erupt in a lively guitar solo. Jansson’s drum beats are more forceful, pairing well with a bass tone that’s crunchy like crisp autumn leaves on the ground.

At first, Emellan Träden may seem more homogeneous than it actually is. Closer attention reveals ample variety, but more in the placement of the building blocks rather than the blocks themselves. For instance, the piano is central to Jord’s sound. Its simple yet wistful melodies underpin several songs (“Stay,” “King of the Night,” “Prinsessan Och Hästen”) in a manner like unto Kauan or Weltenbrandt. Jurg’s vocals are mainly a gravelly growl with a good amount of bite, but in “Stay” he adopts a sharper, rhythmic tone somewhat analogous to Vincent Jones (Æther Realm). His voice serves as an effective contrast with the female singing¹ in “Hon Kallar,” which, when paired with a violi,n casts a hearty folk glow. Emellan Träden could have benefitted from a few more moments like this.

Emellan Träden strikes a decent balance between tranquility and heaviness. Jord seems most comfortable with a mid-paced tempo, where the emotional songwriting can shine brightest. The slight over-reliance on this trait might fall a bit flat for some listeners, but when Jord gets it right, the results are efficacious. “Vid Muren” starts off slow as an acoustic guitar intermingles with the electric, then gradually ramps up in velocity and intensity, culminating with a brisk guitar solo that could have sounded out of place without prior setup. Hravn’s soloing is one of the highlights of Emellan Träden, and “Den Brandgula Salen” in particular has the fingerprints of Rimfrost’s Expedition: Darkness all over it. The overall flow of Emellan Träden isn’t perfect, and at times a little jerky, but it’s nonetheless a treat to listen to as a whole.

While Jord’s origins may be stereotypical, its output quality is considerably above average. Emellan Träden is perhaps not the most original post-black record, but it’s among the better-executed ones I’ve heard in the style. Refreshingly, the melancholy and somberness are more of a tool than an end goal. The piano is a simple yet pleasant touch that goes a long way toward helping the music feel inviting. Emellan Träden is very good, but it feels like it’s missing that last little oomph of vitality to become great. Even so, it’s my idea of a perfect album to kick off this fall season.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 192 kbps mp3
Label: Hammerheart Records
Websites: jord-northernsilence.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/jordsounds
Releases Worldwide: September 5th, 2025

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