Opvs Noir Vol 2 dishes out what you’d expect as a follow-up to Vol 1, only it’s more consistent. From start to finish, Lord of the Lost delivers melancholic gothic/industrial metal with heavy doses of pop. Tracks announce their gothic intentions with plenty of sorrowful strings, pianos, synths, and even some organs, not to mention Harms himself, whose voice oozes gothy vibes. Compared to Vol 1, the guest spots are more limited, and the tracks don’t stray much from the Lord of the Lost formula. Two guests, however, prove an exception. One is the manic Finnish rapper, Käärijä, whose claim to fame is a second-place Eurovision finish in 2023 for his song, “Cha Cha Cha.”¹ He provides an energetic rap solo on the techno-industrial dance number, “Raveyard,” that’s sure to prove divisive, but there’s no denying he’s having a good time. However, Infected Rain’s Lena Scissorhands takes the cake on “Would You Walk with Me Through Hell.” She and Harms prove a perfect match as they alternate cleans and growls, leading up to an explosive finale that gets the album off to a strong start.

Through the lyrics and a mellower sound, Lord of the Lost reveals their sensitive side. The heavy presence of piano lends to this softness, from the piano ballad “One of Us Will Be Next” to the piano opening on the more rousing “Scarlight.” Don’t confuse sensitivity with weakness, however—these two tracks are absolute bangers. The gentle opening of “Scarlight” only makes it that much more powerful when it erupts into a catchy and moving chorus. Harms empathetically sings “Tell me your fears, take all the time you need” in a manner that both melts and pumps up your heart. Yet this tune is outdone by the poignant “One of Us Will Be Next,” which will have you shedding tears while singing along in a blubbering voice. Be careful of your surroundings, however, as you might draw looks when belting out that the next thing one of us will do is die. The combo of well-written lyrics, moving vocal performances, and cinematic instrumental passages creates a heartfelt, touching record.

The greater consistency proves a double-edged sword. On one hand, it leads to a more cohesive album, but on the other, it’s a risk-averse approach. The middle of Opvs Noir Vol 2 sags on a couple of tunes that, while pretty good, play it a little too safe (“The Last Star,” “What Have We Become”). The variety on Vol 1 made it a more engaging listen throughout, yet Vol 2 does feel more like a Lord of the Lost record. And some of these “safer” songs are still engaging thanks to the charisma of Harms. He mesmerizes on the minimalist finale, “Sharp Edges,” with his tenor and cadence. Similarly, “Winter’s Dying Heart” morphs into a lovely ballad thanks to the combination of symphonics, heavy guitar rhythms, and Harms’s performance. Vol 2 feels more mature despite being only a few months older, and while maturity may sound like a code word for boring, here it lends a greater pathos.

Despite having the same score, I’d rank this slightly below Opvs Noir Vol 1. Whereas on Vol 1, Lord of the Lost grazed the score counter, Vol 2 is firmly in the very good camp. I prefer the variety on the prior record, but I also appreciate the fewer guest appearances on this one, which gives us a better glimpse into Lord of the Lost’s identity. Further, nothing on Vol 1 hits as hard as “One of Us Will Be Next,” which will most definitely compete for my song of the year spot. Considering how consistently good the Opvs Noir albums have been so far, I am looking forward to the final installment to release in, perhaps, just a few short months.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: N/A | Format Reviewed: Stream
Label: Napalm Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Site
Releases Worldwide: December 12th, 2025

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Opia deftly balances the gentle with the crushingly heavy, resulting in a record of beautiful melancholy that would make My Dying Bride and Swallow the Sun proud. They achieve this with a dichotomy of soft arpeggios and heavy riffs, of tender cleans and harsh growls. This dichotomy amplifies the melancholic power of the music, and there’s an undeniable satisfaction when a song suddenly grows loud and brutal following a softer stretch. We hear this on tracks like “Days Gone By,” which opens with some nifty fretwork before exploding into heavier riffs. Opia flexes their true muscle on masterpieces like “Man Proposes, God Disposes” and “Silence,” where Tereza Rohelova’s cleans croon a melancholic melody before delving into such despairing heaviness that it’ll have you aching from the hurt. The similarly astonishing “The Eye” flips the melodic element on its head with a chorus where Rohelova’s growls deliver the beauty over top a soaring keyboard part.

As great as the compositions are, the heartfelt performances by all musicians elevate the material. As frontwoman, Rohelova sets the tone with an electrifying performance on the level of My Dying Bride’s Aaron Stainthorpe. Her cleans take on a haunting quality that adds a touch of the gothic, and while her growls don’t reach the muscular tone of Stainthorpe, they are nonetheless effective in setting a tone of brutality. The dual guitar work from Phoenix Griffiths and Dan Tregenna also dazzle. Their fretwork is so effective and creative, whether it’s the mellower arpeggios or crushing riffs, that there’s never a dull moment or a lull. Marcelo Teixeira, behind the kit, is also solid. He swaps between gentle drum and cymbal taps to pummeling blast beats on a dime. He really goes all out on a climatic moment on the finale, “On Death’s Door Part II,” that’ll leave you breathless. Important to setting up the gothic tone is keyboardist Jorge Afonso Rodriguez, who adds melodic depth as well as atmosphere. There’s a depth to the songwriting that opens up rewarding new avenues every time I give the record another spin.

Having been released in late April, I missed out on the opportunity to review I Welcome Thee, Eternal Sleep by just a few weeks. But when I first heard it, I knew it was special enough to save for a TYMHM. A debut this powerful should not be missed, and having spent this extra time with it late in the year, I believe I made a mistake by not including it in my end of year list. This is a promising start for a group who, I hope, continues to craft songs together for a long time to come.

Songs to Check Out: ”Man Proposes, God Disposes,” “The Fade,” “The Eye,” “Silence

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Though Nattradio don’t skirt the qualifications of a metal band like Sleep Token or Ghost do, I am nonetheless reminded of more non-metal bands/artists than metal ones while listening to The Longest Night. Yes, Nattradio’s closest comparison is Katatonia, as songs like “Sketches from the Dark” and “Shifting Baseline” recall the slow, gloomy riffing of The Great Cold Distance, but The Cure seems to seep into The Longest Night’s formula just as often. Take the electronic drumming and wacky guitar effects of “Dark Streets” or the dreamy, heartbroken strings of “Rainbirds” and tell me you can’t picture Robert Smith listlessly crooning over them. Vocally, Martin Boman doesn’t have the grit typical to metal, but rather sits in the breathy middle of David Bowie and Thom Yorke. When engaged in ambient movements, Nattradio bring out the keys for spacious, dark atmospheres of jazzed-up smoothness that recall Poe and, similarly, could slide into the Alan Wake II soundtrack. Nattradio probably won’t hit for metal purists, but listeners of a wider range of genres might find a delightfully varied affair on The Longest Night.

Nattradio lean into their witching-hour moodiness above all else on The Longest Night. Slow, pensive progressions are imbued with mellow synths and Niklas Brodd’s layered guitars, while cold, bright piano chimes away on the interlude “All for You” and the ten-plus-minute title track. Boman’s high, soft delivery lends a precarious edge to The Longest Night, though his approach can feel unsuited for heavier moments and even plain off-key on “Sketches from the Dark.” Further, the soft vocals paired with Nattradio’s consistent bent towards melancholy mean The Longest Night is short on big, memorable moments. Even on The Longest Night’s most rocking tracks, “Shadow Speaker” and “Alright for Now,” the former featuring brisk double-kicks and the latter playing uber-catchy melodeath riffs that The Halo Effect would peddle, everything slows down eventually, and Boman’s wilting voice always brings back the melancholia before too long. In short, Nattradio’s brand of doom doesn’t dish out the riffs or theming meant to Fvneral Fvkk yov vp, but The Longest Night instead deals in a cozy melancholy, coldness you can settle into for a while.

Nattradio’s greatest strength on The Longest Night, however, is striking a compelling balance between busy and airy passages. Quiet verses and loud choruses are nothing new, but Nattradio always nail its execution, whether it’s moving from thumping bass to fist-pumping arena rock in “Alright for Now,” mournful piano to driving guitars on “The Longest Night,” or minimalist ambience giving way to thunderous tremolos on “Shadow Speaker.” The Longest Night’s dynamic mix really helps this end, allowing the big emotional shifts on “Night” and “The Longest Night” the breathing room needed to make it work. Nattradio know how to pace an album, and The Longest Night runs smoothly through its whole 52-minute runtime. Though lacking in powerful, “there it is” moments, The Longest Night is still an engaging record due to its expert balance not in light and dark but in fullness and ethereality.

The Longest Night isn’t anything to ruin your sleep schedule over, but Nattradio are a good group to turn to if you ever find yourself there already. Easy listening and sweetly sad, this is a record I found myself slightly more eager to get back to for each listen. Fans of Katatonia and anything under Goth’s sequined umbrella should consider checking this out. Nattradio knew what they were doing dropping The Longest Night at this time of year, and I’m sure I’ll return to it on some of my own long nights this winter.

Rating: Good
DR: 11 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s MP3
Label: Darkness Shall Rise Productions
Websites: nattradio.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/Nattradio
Releases Worldwide: December 12th, 2025

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At first blush, The Dreaming Prince in Ecstasy extends Saturnian Bloodstorm’s thrashing black metal template before wading into waters teeming with new wave and gothic metal elements. Immortal’s influence still lurks amidst M.’s swirling, rapid-fire tremolos and galloping chugs (“Hategate (the Dream-Master’s Realm)”), while twinkling, Këkht Aräkh-like keys lace the guitar-driven melodies on “Forest of Hallucinations,” its intro emitting South of Heaven-era Slayer vibes from the harmonized leads. M.’s vocals, as blackly metallic and viscerally lethal as ever, are dichotomously connected to the music and venture into minimally explored cleaner climes while sharing the spotlight on “A Brute Angel’s Sorrow” with guest vocalist Crying Orc (Këkht Aräkh).¹ For beyond the Nightmare on Elm Street meets Black Aria² vibes of instrumental opener “The Fires of Seduction,” lie the equally moody atmospheres of mid-album interlude “Angelic Vortex,” which serves as a portal, ushering listeners from Lamp of Murmuur’s past into what The Dreaming Prince in Ecstasy represents for the project’s future.

Three-part title track, “The Dreaming Prince in Ecstasy,” is the album highlight. Without jettisoning its black metal roots, Lamp of Murmuur shrouds this triptych in a Sólstafiric, proggy haze of spacy, 70s-style rock guitar solos and cascading Phantom of the Operatic progressions (“Part I – Moondance”), melodic, soaring leads (“Part II – Twilight Orgasm”) and a romping, symphonic paganism (“Part III – The Fall”) reminiscent of early Old Man’s Child. In addition, M.’s broadening, clean vocals inject new-wave intensity into the non-harsh moments of “Moondance,” a Moroder & Bowie “Cat People (Putting Out the Fire)” feel into the latter croons of “Twilight Orgasm,” and an effective, Cattle Decapitation-esque tonal rasp into “The Fall.” I think I had as much fun diving in and out of the waters of this stretch of TDPiE as our beloved sharkster had ingesting the whole of Saturnian Bloodstorm.

As often as dichotomy spearheads musical diversity, however, it can also foster unintended inconsistency, and in the court of The Dreaming Prince in Ecstasy’s case, the latter unfortunately testifies loudest. As many moments of greatness exist on both halves of TDPiE’s whole, so too do some missteps. M.’s first instance of cleans, for example, at the end of “Hategate (The Dream-Master’s Realm)” sound out of tune and pulled me from an otherwise enjoyable listen during every spin. In addition, “Part I – Moondance” contains some awkwardly off-key musical transitions, and at times, the staccato, machine-gun riffage in “Part III – The Fall” feels out of sync with the drumming. And as much as I enjoyed the acoustically well-executed and clean-sung “A Brute Angel’s Sorrow,” its off-putting, last-batter-in-the-lineup positioning completely saps the majesty from the silence left in the wake of “Part III – The Fall”‘s last powerful chord.

A tenet often adhered to despite its obtusity is that broadened popularity for a band that launched its career from the darkened shadows of the kvlt black metal world usually leads to its death or disownment. In the case of Lamp of Murmuur, a forerunner of the current USBM scene, opinions may vary. As it stands, The Dreaming Prince in Ecstasy is a full-length that, if released as a pair of EPs, might have transcended its holistic inconsistencies. I’ve grown past the distaste I felt on initial listens to appreciate both sides of what Lamp of Murmuur has done here and look forward to M.’s continued growth, as should you.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320kbps mp3
Label: Wolves of Hades
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: November 14th, 2025

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Lord of the Lost play Rammstein-inspired industrial metal with a gothic tinge and pop beats. Synths typically dominate the mix, but occasionally the guitars take over on heavier cuts like “Damage” and “Lords of Fyre.” What surprised me most was the variety of sounds on Opvs Noir Vol. 1, from the folk-y instruments on “Lords of Fyre” to the use of symphonics throughout. The chants, organs, and strings on cuts like “Moonstruck” evoke Fleshgod Apocalypse, and they often bring a cinematic touch, which is appropriate given the musicians’ penchant for elaborate costumes and makeup. On top of this already grandiose blending of genres is a touch of hip hop, most apparent on “Bazaar Bizarre,” where Harms semi-raps over rhythmic beats. While these descriptions might scare many of you off, this is actually a lot of fun. The songs are catchy and the mix of styles means you never know what you’ll get from track to track.

Anchoring the music is the performance of Harms, as well as the choice of collaborators throughout Opvs Noir Vol. 1. Harms has an undeniable charisma–his voice has a dark, sexy tenor that fits perfectly in either pop or heavy metal. He reminds me of Billy Idol and that dude who sings “Blue Monday.” Harms also tries on some occasional death metal growls, and while his voice isn’t as brutal as those more practiced in the style, they’re effective in the few instances he uses them. Aiding Harms is a well-curated mix of collaborators, from the obscure to the more well-known. Notably, Within Temptation performs a duet with Lord of the Lost on the slow tearjerker, “Light Can Only Shine in the Darkness,” where Sharon den Adel’s soft lilt contrasts nicely with Harms’ deeper resonance. Probably my favorite is a collaboration with cellist Tina Guo on “Ghosts,” though the catchiest chorus belongs to “Lords of Fyre,” performed with fellow Napalm-signed Germans, the power metal band Feuerschwanz. ¹

Lord of the Lost make very few missteps on Opvs Noir Vol. 1. The 11-song record clocks in at a tidy 44 minutes, though it’s almost eerie how many songs come in at the 3:40 mark. While they largely play to a traditional pop structure, Lord of the Lost also succeed on the more progressively-structured “The Things We Do For Love,” which weaves from soft piano to heavy Eisbrecher-inspired riffs to hip hop to a chorus that absolutely nails it. Yet a few tracks keep this from being yet another 4.0 notch in my belt. “The Sadness in Everything” ruins a talented performance by Anna Maria Rose by having her sing a melody that sounds an awful lot like “This is Halloween” from A Nightmare Before Christmas. The finale also veers into self-parody when Harms sings “Twinkle twinkle brittle star” like a dramatic re-imagining of the classic children’s tune. These moments may be small, but they do undermine the album’s conclusion.

Opvs Noir Vol. 1 is a very good start to this planned trilogy. Don’t let the pop tag scare you away. Lord of the Lost has some quality songwriting–the performances and collaborations should be enough to interest anyone who is a fan of industrial metal, symphonic metal, or even power metal. This is yet another Napalm act, like Warkings, where the songwriting improves on older material–at least that which I’ve sampled from both bands. Yes, that material is well-polished, poppy, and catchy, but it’s a ton of fun and a welcome break from the bleakness of death and doom metal.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: N/A | Format Reviewed: Stream
Label: Napalm Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Site
Releases Worldwide: August 8th, 2025

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Resembling acts like DEATHTRIPPA, Blind Equation’s current iteration diversifies its palette with elements of goth and emo, death and doom, synthwave, and melodic black metal. To these ears, those attributes recall everything from AFI, Fires in the Distance, Silhouette, Gunship, and Labyrinthus Stellarum. Depressive tones and desperate wails reminiscent of Ghost Bath or Acathexis also meld beautifully with a hopeful atmospheric counterpoint—a reflection of McHenry’s use of songwriting as a mechanism for catharsis and healing during his darkest moments during A Funeral in Purgatory’s development. Brutal outbursts reminiscent of Anaal Nathrakh or Igorrr, and the occasional deathcore gravity blast, provide an additional dynamic that brings immense metallic heft to an affair that, to my knowledge, doesn’t utilize a single guitar. Unified, these myriad characteristics coalesce into something stylistically unique, instrumentally fascinating, and emotionally compelling.

More importantly, A Funeral in Purgatory is an absolute joy to experience. With contrasting numbers as divergent as my personal favorites, the blisteringly fast and exuberant “Flashback (ft. Strawberry Hospital)” and beautiful death doom closer “Incomplete,” you might expect A Funeral in Purgatory to be disjointed and haphazard. But the opposite is true. Blind Equation’s masterful, meticulous detailing brings unity and adhesion to the record, such that when I hear the eviscerating brutality of “… in Purgatory” juxtaposed against the vibrant gallop of “Flashback,” or the goth-soaked “Nothing” against the metalcore-breakcore mashup “it feels like the end (ft. JOHNNASCUS),” it feels natural and invigorating. An increased presence of slower, more dramatic passages in “A Funeral… ” and “Relinquished Dreams” allows Blind Equation’s heart-wrenching roars and introspective tones to shine through as the brilliant light of higher-pitched synths and chips fade, enhancing what are already compelling songs by creating deeper valleys and taller peaks. Ultimately, this approach to songwriting permitted me very little opportunity to correctly predict what happened next, while still capturing my attention so completely that with each new song I was ready, almost desperate, for the next twist to whip me into another dimension.

However, not all dimensions are created equal, and there are a couple here that don’t quite reach the same echelon as Blind Equation’s best. First and foremost are the interludes, “⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆✟⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺” and “still.” Musically, they are pretty and offer plenty of emotion, but don’t add enough to the storytelling to feel essential to the overall experience. I could argue the former brings novelty to the split title tracks “A Funeral… ” and “… in Purgatory,” but the requisite connective tissue is flimsy all the same. In a similar manner, “mourn” is somewhat lackluster compared to its album mates. This could be an unfortunate circumstance brought about by its barebones instrumentation, which is a stark departure from everything presented over the previous seven tracks. It could also be that its core ideas feel a touch underdeveloped by comparison. Either way, it represents one of A Funeral in Purgatory’s minor weak points. While in no way a detractor on their own merit, Blind Equation’s AFI-esque clean vocals, which only feature in the first three tracks, would bring even greater cohesion to the whole if they featured more consistently throughout.

It goes without saying that I didn’t expect what Blind Equation delivered, nor did I expect to like it this much. At the same time, I really shouldn’t be surprised at all, considering nearly all of my favorite records this year have been wild and unorthodox. A Funeral in Purgatory represents another entry in that varied category, of which there is no doubt. But it’s also one of the most fun and engaging electronic music releases I’ve encountered this year. So if you don’t mind your metal chipped to oblivion, laced with ecstasy, dressed in all black, with a raven perched on its shoulder, then A Funeral in Purgatory might just be your poison.

Rating: Very Good!
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Prosthetic Records
Websites: blindequation.bandcamp.com/album | facebook.com/blindequation
Releases Worldwide: July 18th, 2025

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It’s been a draining year. Lacking the mental energy for new music, I’ve subsisted on a diet of ISIS and Fvneral Fvkk. Clouded by the doomy stylings of the latter, I decided to make my return to reviewing with dismal death-doom. Despite releasing their debut just last year, Finland’s The Bleak Picture is a project of members of Autumnfall. That said, these two bands sound worlds apart, as their names betray. Abandoning the blackened scenery of Autumnfall, The Bleak Picture paints a bleak picture with melodic death-doom that reeks of Finland. Channeling the icons of sadboi history, Shades of Life is a flawed but worthwhile slab of morose doom.

You won’t find much innovation here, but The Bleak Picture has learned from the best. Blending harsh vocals and spoken word, doomy plains and deathy mountain ranges, Shades of Life consists of familiar elements. The opener “Plagued by Sorrow” offers the listener zero seconds of respite before launching into a persistent doom riff. Melodic guitar leads steer the album along, stitching the doomy cuts together in a manner that recalls Enshine (“Without the I”). Rather than slowing to a standstill, The Bleak Picture uses Insomnium riffs to push the album along without diluting its sorrow. The guitars (handled by Jussi Hänninen, along with the other instruments) are the core of Shades of Life, but Tero Ruohonen’s vocals broaden its horizons. While he largely dwells in standard harsh territory, Ruohonen’s cleans tinge the album with gothic influences, like the distorted spoken word of “Absolution.” Indeed, sections like the straightforward rock of “Without the I” recall Paradise Lost. However, lest this lengthy description fool you, Shades of Life is largely standard fare.

It feels criminal to listen to Shades of Life on a 90-degree summer day. The Bleak Picture conveys emotion through the sheer enormity of their riffs, burying the listener like an avalanche (“Absolution”). Elsewhere, Shades of Life deftly intersperses these assaults with tranquility, like the transition from an explosive chorus to minimalist bass-led instrumentals on “Plagued by Sorrow.” These strengths reach their apex on the 11-minute spectacle “Silent Exit.” Evoking Swallow the Sun’s Plague of Butterflies, the track progresses through a nightmarish acoustic melody, forceful doom riffs, and girthy bass lines. Cult of Luna-style drumming leads the song into a climactic ending that raises the bar even further. Across these highlights, The Bleak Picture’s sophomore release boasts a mature approach to songwriting.

Shades of Life still struggles to transcend its melodic death-doom formula. The album’s biggest weakness is its monotony. In their quest for chunky riffs, The Bleak Picture tends to overuse ideas, emulating an uninspired version of Rapture (“Code of Ethics”). Even the album’s best pieces sometimes fizzle out, like the abrupt ending of the otherwise-powerful “Absolution.” Similarly, while the penultimate track “Silent Exit” showcases the best of Shades of Life, the closer “City of Ghosts” settles into a low-energy doom routine that never picks up steam. Despite its apparent variety of influences, The Bleak Picture’s by-the-book approach to death-doom doesn’t always keep my interest.

An album like Shades of Life is difficult to dissect; its success hinges on the heart, not the brain. The Bleak Picture is on the right path, and tracks like “Silent Exit” hit hard with their bulky riffwork and creative variety. But as a whole, Shades of Life isn’t the gut punch I’d hoped for. It doesn’t match the raw power of Paradise Lost, the otherworldly sadness of Enshine, or the narrative prowess of Insomnium. Still, I have no regrets. There are strong whiffs of talent here, and with its mature and tempered approach to songwriting, Shades of Life is an easy, rewarding listen. It’s worth a shot for anyone who prefers moping over sunlight.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Ardua Music
Websites: thebleakpicture.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/thebleakpicture
Releases Worldwide: June 27th, 2025

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The most succinct way to describe the genre of Life Force is standard rock-and-roll with some extra frills. Like many hard rock songs, Darkyra hooks you early with some nice melodies, but then switches to standard rock riffs as rhythm to accompany Bafile’s voice. Synths add some extra personality: on “One Foot in the Grave,” they provide an eerie, gothic atmosphere, while on “Leap Before You Die,” they perform some nice solos. The piano also plays an important role, providing the main source of instrumentation on “Tomorrow Without You” and serving a supporting role on other tracks like “Quiet the Mind.” Pop/rock songs like these live and die by the chorus, and Life Force has some catchy ones. Most tunes follow the traditional pop structure of repeating the chorus once or twice, but a few instead build up to a big chorus in the finale.

Spend enough time with Life Force and you’ll find that there is plenty to appreciate. Surprisingly, the biggest standout is the bassist, Lucio Manca. On songs like “Life Force” and “Quiet the Mind,” his bass absolutely slaps. He steals the show with his grooves, and I wish he had a more prominent role. I know a certain bass-loving Dolphin who would salivate to hear Manca play, and thanks to the crisp production values, his bass clearly stands out. While there are several songs that stand above the pack, such as “Quiet the Mind,” which has a killer chorus, “Celebrity Smile” is the one that I wish Darkyra had used as a model for the rest. ¹ It’s the only true symphonic track on Life Force, and when those string instruments and choral chants accompany Bafile’s voice on the chorus, I can’t help but imagine how great this album could have been had Darkyra done more of this.

Life Force unfortunately, suffers from some inconsistencies. Bafile has a strong voice, but at times the songs put too much pressure on her larynx. For example, when she reaches for a higher register on the chorus of “All in Good Time,” her voice strains and grows pitchy. Darkyra also opts for some odd vocal choices, such as a sassy-talk section (“All in Good Time”), some Darth Vader-like whispers (“Quiet the Mind”), and a moment where I confused her for a nasally Gwen Stefani (“Tomorrow Without You”). These moments aren’t the only weaknesses, though. For one, the guitars are pretty bland, often disappearing into the background. Some of the lyrics are questionable as well, such as when Bafile redundantly sings, “You’ve gotta leap before you die / Leap while you’re alive.” Probably the biggest offender is the penultimate tune, “Tested the Water,” which feels completely phoned in and out of tune.

What Bafile has done with Life Force–create an ambitious work of art after life threw a wrench her way–is an inspiration. No matter what I write in these paragraphs, that in itself is a success. And the album is pretty enjoyable. Yes, it has its warts and blemishes, like any record, but I still find myself giddily singing aloud “You’ve gotta leap before you die” and swaying to the violins of “Celebrity Smile” as they replay in my head. I hope next time around, Bafile plays to Darkyra’s strengths more consistently. Bafile and her team have good instincts for creating musical arrangements with strings, piano, and that bass. I look forward to hearing what she does next.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Battlegod Productions
Websites: darkyra.com | darkyrablack.bandcamp.com
Releases Worldwide: June 13th, 2025

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Sun After Dark

At the risk of oversimplifying the myriad of musical ideas within Tatkraft, I would affectionately classify Tatkraft as blackened gothic metal. The opening volley efficiently demonstrates what Sun After Dark is about. “Dawn and Dirges” opens with a bevy of keyboard effects augmenting the guitars as they grow in intensity, launching into an immensely satisfying riff as the vocals appear. Thomas Helm (Empyrium, and the other permanent member of Sun After Dark) has a rich, operatic croon that contrasts nicely with Matthias Jell’s (Azathoth from Dark Fortress) nastier shrieks. “Waidmanns Hoffnung” shows visions of Tatkraft’s slower side, interspersing long passages of gloomy guitars and electronic drums with brief forays into blackened aggression. Like a medium-rare steak and red wine, the softer and heavier sides of Tatkraft pair deliciously. Tatkraft will often remind one of other bands—the vibes are a little bit The Vision Bleak, there’s some ambient traces of Lunar Aurora to be found, naturally, and Helm’s singular vocals cannot help but evoke Empyrium—but König balances the album’s sonic elements with finesse and creativity such that Tatkraft sounds wholly original throughout.

While the facets of Tatkraft complement each other well, the album’s greatest strength lies in König’s inspired songwriting; the mashed potatoes with our steak and wine, if you will. Gnashing guitars (“Dawn and Dirges”), emotionally rich melodies (“Leaving Metropolis”), or folksy energy (“Schlittenfahrt”) hooks the listener straight away, until repeat listens reveal the layers of depth König has hidden behind the musicianship. In this regard, Tatkraft’s keyboards rival Atlas in weight carried. Flanging and warbling keyboards form a swirling tempest around the guitars in “Dawn and Dirges,” “Burning Blue,” “Antarctic Morning,” or they eke out a siren’s droning hum in “Waidmanns Hoffnung,” or any of the other infinite tiny tricks heard across the whole of Tatkraft. It’s all subtle and unobtrusive, and it’s a great way to utilize the negative space that makes for some wonderful moments like the blaring emergency honks atop chugging guitars towards the end of “Antarctic Morning.” The mix, by Victor Bullok of Triptykon, enables this depth to shine through while the moment-to-moment experience remains immediate and engaging.

What ultimately holds Tatkraft back from the higher score it deserves is a matter of focus. König is undoubtedly a talented songwriter with solid songcraft ideas, but these ideas infrequently culminate into a single, structurally satisfying whole. What highlights this are the sheer strength of “Burning Blue” and “Antarctic Morning,” where each sequence seamlessly flows into the next until reaching the climax. These songs do wield some of the strongest material in Tatkraft, so perhaps they’re unfairly advantaged. Still, there is a clear-cut and engaging progression to each song’s flow, which in turn highlights the opposite in “Ohne Grab” and “Schlittenfahrt.” Each song is similarly laden with strong ideas—I love the raking guitars that open “Ohne Grab” and the polka-inspired riffs of “Schlittenfahrt” (featuring Mosaic’s Martin Falkenstein) are a blast in a vacuum—but the flow is absent. The individual sequences in “Ohne Grab” are starkly different from one another, and the transitions between them lack any grace, while “Schlittenfahrt,” despite a strong core riff, feels incomplete, as if it were missing its second or third act. But ultimately, these rough edges do feel earned, not so much subtracting from the big picture but adding texture. No song on Tatkraft lacks in inspiration or sincerity, and boredom will be a foreign concept during your listening experience.

In the end, Tatkraft has made me an eager fan of Sun After Dark. There are a few things here and there to be ironed out, but I feel genuinely excited for Sun After Dark’s future. I shall be recommending Tatkraft to like-minded individuals, but when the day arrives, we get an album full of “Burning Blue”‘s and “Antarctic Morning”‘s, no god nor king could stop my blackened gothic crusade from spreading Sun After Dark to all.

Rating: Good!!
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Hammerheart Records
Websites: facebook | bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: June 13th, 2025

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Like forebears Black Sabbath or Pentagram, Aganoor doesn’t skimp on weighty, down-tuned guitar riffs. The majority of these riffs are infused with a sense of vaguely bluesy stoner groove peddled by the likes of Wo Fat, with just enough grit and fuzz around the edges. At times, the guitars also take on a darker inflection when vocalist Dan Ghostrider dips into surly Type O Negative goth rock territory. It’s not all doom and gloom, though. Aganoor also has a penchant for luxuriant psychedelic explorations like Elder or (later) REZN, albeit more concise and less indulgent. A slight reverb effect on the guitars lends the music a cosmic vibe and augments the sense of psychedelia. The key takeaway is that Aganoor enjoys jamming across multiple styles.

However, to describe Doomerism as a “jam” may be misleading because it implies that the music is directionless or unplanned. Aganoor never succumbs to the autopilot tendencies commonly associated with stoner and psych groups. In fact, all of Doomerism’s tracks sit in the 6 to 8-minute range, but they feel more like 4. This is due to a keen sense of flow and an intuition of when to go harder with the doom riffs and when to ease off the throttle for an entrancing psychedelic passage. “Icarus” exemplifies this dichotomy best, where an irresistible groove dominates the first half, then smoothly settles into a smoky bass-led segment. This isn’t to say that it’s always either-or; there are plenty of times when the lead guitar goes on a short excursion while tethered to a solid rhythm guitar or bass line (“Morbid Skin,” “Bury My Soul,” “Mind Shadowing”). In this way, not a single minute feels wasted, and even the meandering bits feel vital.

Perhaps the most appealing quality of Doomerism is how easy it is to listen to while simultaneously offering enough to chew on during repeat visits. Aganoor does this by keeping just enough of the familiar popular music song structure but strategically omitting or lengthening components to form something more novel. The more rock-oriented numbers feature traditional choruses (“Bury My Soul” and “Emerald Lake”), but rather than relying too heavily on them for memorability, Aganoor leans more on quality hooks and recurring melodies. They’re also happy to write long, elaborate intros (“Nadir”) and instrumental bridges (“Mind Shadowing”) without ever approaching proggy excess. Doomerism’s 6-track, 39-minute runtime is the perfect amount to feel satisfied but still wish for one more song. If I must nitpick, it can sometimes feel like Aganoor are a bit too secure in the shadow of their various influences, but it’s hard to complain when their execution is this good, and they still undeniably put their own spin on this retro flavor of songwriting.

Aganoor came seemingly out of nowhere with an enchanting combination of doom metal and adjacent styles. Doomerism feels like the best of both worlds; the riffs-first approach and gothic tendencies keep the psychedelic elements focused and grounded in reality, while the stoner rock grants the perfect amount of levity to an otherwise stifling atmosphere. The net effect is warm and refreshing like a summer breeze. Each song has a smooth, buttery flow that’s easy to zone out and get lost in. I would not have guessed this to be a debut album; the band members sound as comfortable as if they’ve been playing together for years. As such, things already look promising for a future Aganoor sophomore record.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: My Kingdom Music | BloodRock Records
Websites: aganoor.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/aganoorband
Releases Worldwide: June 6th, 2025

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