Ferrum Sidereum is a record that revels in texture and rhythm more so than melody. Like ObZen-era Meshuggah, ZU play melodically bare but rhythmically exquisite riffs, with their prog and metal elements manifesting into bouncy, syncopated djent jabs prominent on tracks like “Golgotha” and “Kether.” Guitars are low (“Ferrum Sidereum”), bass is plucked with abandon (“Charagma”), and drums roll with jazz-practiced precision and metal aggression (“La Donna Vestita Di Sole”). Industrial elements and saxophone conspire to either inject a sense of progression to simple riffs (“Hymn of the Pearl”) or, more often than not, tear your ears a new one with punkish, dissonant whines and whistles (“Fuoco Saturnio”). ZU bounce between these loud, crunched moments with Tool-like passages of meditative, methodical calm and repetition with a hodgepodge of percussive additions to fill out space (“Pleroma”). You likely won’t be able to hum anything off Ferrum Sidereum by the end, but it’s undeniable that ZU are very particular about sounding a very particular way.

ZU have the chops to carry the load of a double album, but Ferrum Sidereum unfortunately doesn’t have the substance to fill one. To achieve a sense of spiritual ritualism, ZU obviously had to rely on repetition within songs, but it quickly just gets excessive and bland. Differences between songs—like “AI Hive Mind” and its distinct, mathcore level of scronk in its guitar tone and saxophone or “Golgotha” and its use of ghostly choir to build unnerving atmospheres—get lost in the flood of crushed djenting that better defines Ferrum Sidereum. ZU stick to such a strict palette that following along to the album as a whole becomes tedious, and the lack of melodic leads or even just a singer make Ferrum Sidereum easy to drift away from mentally. Eighty minutes and no hook is a big ask for any listener. Ferrum Sidereum’s uniform construction does lend it a sense of unity, and ZU’s expert musicianship and occasional atmospheres do make the record a good background listen, but for the purpose of intentional, critical listening, it leaves much to be desired.

This is deeply disappointing to me, because Ferrum Sidereum can at times be simply transcendent. When it comes to shaping otherworldly and religious atmospheres, when ZU get it right, they get it right. “La Donna Vestita Di Sole” feels like a festival from another planet with its twisty sax riff, while the conclusion to the closing title track uses the dichotomy of furious palm-muted riffing and complete silence to make an ending both meditative and succinct. The one-two punch of “The Celestial Bull and the White Lady” and “Hymn of the Pearl” sees ZU at their most sublime, awash with delayed clean guitars and tribal drumming derived from the same sacred geometry as Lateralus, both stirring and refreshing to the mind and soul. There’s great material on Ferrum Sidereum, songs so good I can see clearly the greatness that ZU see in it, but material buried under about as much runtime of bloat as well.

I know there’s a world where Ferrum Sidereum clicks with me, but here and now it doesn’t. ZU are wildly talented musicians, and I know there are fans of instrumental metal who will gobble this up, but for me too much of what makes Ferrum Sidereum enthralling (its rich atmosphere and contemplative nature) is sidelined by what makes it boring (djent). “Hymn of the Pearl” may make a reappearance in December for SotY contention, but I think I’ve gotten enough of ZU’s latest as a whole. But I’ll keep an eye out for falling rocks, regardless.

Rating: Disappointing
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps MP3
Label: House of Mythology
Websites: zuhom.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/vajrazu | zuism.net
Releases Worldwide: January 9th, 2026

The post ZU – Ferrum Sidereum Review appeared first on Angry Metal Guy.

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”

The post Halocraft – The Sky Will Remember / To Leave a Single Wolf Alive [Things You Might Have Missed 2025] appeared first on Angry Metal Guy.

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

The post Tuesday the Sky – Indoor Enthusiast Review appeared first on Angry Metal Guy.

If you thought June was hot, you aren’t ready for what July has in store. The thin metallic walls of these flimsy ducts warp and soften as the sweltering environs continue to challenge the definition of “habitable.” But I must force my minions to continue their work, as this duty is sacred. Our ravenous appetites cannot be slaked without the supplementary sustenance the Filter brings!

Thankfully, we rescued just enough scraps to put together a meager spread. Enjoy in moderation!

Kenstrosity’s Blackened Buds

Echoes of Gloom // The Mind’s Eternal Storm [July 12th, 2025 – Self-Release]

Queensland isn’t my first thought when considering locales for atmospheric black metal. A genre so often built upon frigid tones and icy melodies feels incongruous to the heat and beastliness of the Australian landscape. Yet, one-man atmoblack act Echoes of Gloom persists. Masterminded by one Dan Elkin, Echoes of Gloom evokes a warm, muggy, and morose spirit with debut record The Mind’s Eternal Storm. But unlike many of the atmospheric persuasion, Echoes of Gloom also injects a classic heavy metal attack and a vaguely punky/folky twist into their formula to keep interest high (“Immortality Manifest,” “Throes of Bereavement I”). Furthermore, Echoes of Gloom weaponizes their energetic take on depressing atmoblack such that even as my head bounces to the riffy groove of surprisingly propulsive numbers like “The Wandering Moon” and “Great Malignant Towers of Delirium,” a palpable pall looms ever present, sapping all color from life as I witness this work. This in turn translates well to the long form, as demonstrated by the epic two-part “Throes of Bereavement” suite and ripping ten-minute closer “Wanderer of the Mind’s Eternal Storm,” boasting dynamics uncommon in the atmospheric field. In sum, if you’re the kind of metal fan that struggles with the airier side of the spectrum, The Mind’s Eternal Storm might be a good place to start.

Witchyre // Witchy Forest Dance Contest [July 14th, 2025 – Self-Release]

Germany’s Witchyre answer a question nobody asked but everyone should: what would happen if black metal and dance music joined forces? With debut LP Witchy Forest Dance Contest, we get to experience this mad alchemy firsthand, and it is an absolute joy! The staunchly anti-fascist Witchyre take the raw sound everyone knows and pumps it full of groove, bounce, and uninhibited fun for a raucous 46 minutes. Evoking equal parts Darude and Darkthrone, bangers like “Let There be Light…,” “Witchy Forest Dance Party,” and “Lost in a Dream” burst with infectious energy that feels demonic and exuberant at the same time. The raw production of the metallic elements shouldn’t work with the glossy sheen of electronic doots, but Witchyre’s often pop-punky song structure that develops as these divergent aesthetics collide adeptly bridges the gap (“Spirits Twirling,” “The Vampire Witch,” “Dragon’s Breath”). My main gripe is that even at a reasonable 46 minutes, each song feels a bit bloated, and some dance elements feel recycled in multiple places (“The Spirits Robbed My Mind”). But don’t let that scare you away. Witchyre is a delightful little deviation from convention fit for fans of Curta’n Wall and Old Nick, and everyone should give it a whirl just for fun!

Owlswald’s Hidden Hoots

Sheev // Ate’s Alchemist [July 11th, 2025 – Ripple Music]

While stoner can be hit-or-miss, Ripple Music often delivers the goods. And with Berlin’s Sheev, they can add another notch to their sativa-flavored belt. Since 2017, the four-piece has been brewing their unique, progressive-infused stoner rock sound. On their second full-length, Ate’s Alchemist, Sheev doubles down on their sonic elixir, with a throwback prog-rock vibe that evokes the likes of Yes and Jethro Tull, but with heavy doses of grunge, jam and modern rock. Vocalist Nitzan Sheps’ provides a stripped-down and authentic performance, sounding like a cross between Muse’s Matt Bellamy and Alice in Chains’ Layne Staley. The rhythm section is particularly great here. Drummer Philipp Vogt’s kit work is exceptionally musical, with intricate cymbal patterns on tracks like “Elephant Trunk,” “Cul De Sac,” and “King Mustard II” that fuel deep-pocket grooves. He also provides Tool-like syncopated rhythms on tracks like “Tüdelüt” and “Henry” that lock with bassist Joshan Chaudhary. Chaudhary’s bass playing is rare in its prominence and clarity in the mix. He maintains a tight pocket while also venturing out regularly with nimbler, adventurous flurries that highlight his technical skill. Yeah, a couple of the longer songs get a little lost, but the album is packed with killer musicianship and vocal hooks that stick with you, so it barely matters. Overall, Sheev has delivered a solid record that I’ll be spinning a lot—and you should too.

Dephosphorus // Planetoktonos [July 18th, 2025 – Selfmadegod Records/7 Degrees Records/Nerve Altar]

Space…the final grind-tier. On their fifth album, Planetoktonos (“Planetkiller”), Greek astro-grind quartet Dephosphorus rejects normal grind classifications and instead annihilates worlds with a brutal, interstellar collision of grind, blackened death, and hardcore. Taking inspiration from the harsh sci-fi of James S.A. Corey’s The Expanse, Planetoktonos is a relentless twenty-eight-minute assault—a sonic asteroid belt of thick, menacing distortion and time-warped drumming that channels Dephosphorus’ raw, furious energy. “The Triumph of Science and Reason” and “After the Holocaust” attack with the ruthless speed of Nasum while others, such as “The Kinetics of a Superintelligence Explosion,” “Hunting for Dyson Spheres,” and “Calculating Infinity,” punctuate sludgy aggression with razor-sharp, shredding passages reminiscent of early Mastodon that offer contrasting technical and rhythmic hostility. Vocalist Panos Agoros’ despairing howls are a particular highlight, full of a gravelly, blackened urgency that sounds the alarm for an interplanetary attack. Gang vocals on tracks like “Living in a Metastable Universe” and “The Kinetics of a Superintelligence Explosion” add extra weight to his frantic performance, proving Dephosphorus can incinerate worlds and still have a blast doing it. Raw, intense, and violent, Planetokonos is a must-listen for fans seeking Remission-era energy.

Tyme’s Tattered Treats

Mortual // Altars of Brutality [July 4th, 2025 – Nuclear Winter Records]

From the fetid rainforests of Costa Rica, San Jose’s Mortual dropped their sneaky good death metal debut, Altar of Brutality, on Independence Day this year. Free of frills and fuckery, Justin Corpse and Master Killer—both have guitar, bass, and vocal credits here—go for the jugular, providing swarms of riffs entrenched in filthy, Floridian swamp waters and powdered with Jersey grit. Solo work comes fast, squealy, and furious as if graduated from the Azagthothian school of shred (“Dominion of Eternal Blasphemy,” “Skeletal Vortex”), as hints of early Deicide lurk within the chugging chunks of “Altar of Brutality” and whiffs of early Monstrosity float amongst the speedier nooks and crannies of “Divine Monstrosity.”¹ Incantationally cavernous, the vocals fit the OSDM mold to a tee, sitting spaciously fat and happy within Dan Lowndes’ great mix and master, which consequently draws out a bestial bass sound that permeates the entirety of Altar of Brutality with low-end menace. Chalo’s (Chemicide) drum performance warrants particular note, as, from the opening tom roll of “Mortuary Rites,” he proceeds to bash skulls throughout Altar of Brutality’s swift thirty-five-minute runtime with a brutal blitz of double-kicking and blast-beating kit abuse. Embodying a DIY work ethic that imbues these tracks with youthful energy and a wealth of death metal character, Mortual aren’t looking to reinvent the wheel as much as they’d like to crush you under its meaty treads, over and over again.

Stomach // Low Demon [July 18th, 2025 – Self-Release]

Droney, doomy, sweaty, and sludgy as fuck, Stomach’s blast furnace second album, Low Demon, is the antithesis of summer-fun metal. Hailing from Geneva, Illinois, Stomach is drummer/vocalist John Hoffman (Weekend Nachos) and guitarist Adam Tomlinson (Sick/Tired, Sea of Shit), who capably carry out their cacophonous work in such a way as to defy the fact that they’re only a duo.² At volume, and believe me, you’ll want to crank this fucker to eleven, Low Demon will have you retching up all that light beer you drank by the pool and crying for yer mom, as “Dredged” oozes, rib-rattling from the speakers, a continuous, four-and-a-half-minute chord-layered exercise in exponentially applied tonal pressure. With five tracks spanning just over forty-three minutes, there’s not a lot on Low Demon that’s in a hurry, and aside from sections of up-tempo doom riffs (“Get Through Winter”) and some downright grindery (“Oscillate”) offering respite from the otherwise crushing wall of sound, listening to Stomach is akin to being waterboarded with molasses. Heavy influences from Earth, Sunn O))), Crossed Out, and Grief—whose Come to Grief stands as a sludge staple—form the basis for much of Stomach’s sound, and while Primitive Man and Hell draw apt comparisons as well, I’m guessing you know what you’re getting into by now. Maniacally cinematic and far from light-hearted, Stomach’s Low Demon was everything I didn’t think I needed during this hot and humid-as-an-armpit-in-hell summer.

Killjoy’s Flutes of Fancy

Braia // Vertentes de lá e cá [July 10th, 2025 – Self-Release]

Bruno Maia is one of the most inventive and hardworking musicians that I know of. Best known for the whimsical Celtic folk metal of Tuatha de Danann, he also has his own folk rock side project, Braia. Vertentes de lá e cá explores the rich history and culture of the Minas Gerais state in his native country, Brazil.³ Bursting with more sweetness than a ripe mango, Vertentes de lá e cá sports a huge diversity of musical styles and instruments. A combination of flute, viola, and acoustic guitar forms the backbone of most of the songs, like the Irish jigs in “Vertentes” or the flitting melodies of “Princesa do Sul.” My ears also detect accordion (“O Cururu do Ingaí”), saxophone (“Serra das Letras”), harmonica (“Hipólita”), banjo (“Carrancas”), and spacey synth effects (“Pagode Mouro”). That last one might sound out of place, but it makes more sense after learning of the local tales of extraterrestrial encounters. Maia sings in only two of the twelve tracks (“Emboabas” and “Rei do Campo Grande”), but all 41 minutes should be engaging enough for listeners who are typically unmoved by instrumental music. Though thematically focused on one specific location, Vertentes de lá e cá deserves to be heard by the entire world.

Storchi // By Far Away [July 25th, 2025 – Self-Release]

I would guess that the “experimental” tag causes some degree of trepidation within most listeners. However, occasionally an artist executes a fresh new vision so confidently that I can’t help but wonder if it’s secretly been around for a long time. Storchi, an instrumental prog group from Kabri, Israel, utilizes a flute in creative ways. Its bright, jazzy demeanor almost functions as a substitute for a vocalist in terms of expressiveness and personality. The Middle Eastern flair combined with modest electronic elements reminds me of Hugo Kant’s flute-heavy multicultural trip-hop. The chunky palm-muted guitar and bass borrow the best aspects of djent alongside eccentrically dynamic drum tempos. There is premeditation amidst the chaos, though. The triplet tracks “Far,” “Further,” and “Furthest” scattered throughout By Far Away each offer a unique rendition of the same core flute tune. “Lagoona” and “Smoky” make good use of melodic reprisals at the very end to neatly close the loop on what might have otherwise felt like more disjointed songs. Despite frequent and abrupt stylistic shifts, Storchi manages to make the 31-minute runtime of By Far Away feel more enjoyable than jolting. Flute fanatics should take note.

ClarkKent’s Addictive Addition

Daron Malakian and Scars on Broadway // Addicted to the Violence [July 19th, 2025 – Scarred for Life]

Since System of a Down disbanded, guitarist Daron Malakian has gone on to release 3 full-length albums under the moniker Scars on Broadway between 2008 and 2025. This spinoff project has proven Malakian to be the oddball of the group, and this goofiness hasn’t mellowed since SOAD’s debut released 27 years ago. The energetic set of tunes on Addicted to the Violence mixes nu-metal, groove rock, and pop with plenty of synths to create some fun and catchy beats. Sure, you have to delve through some baffling lyrics,⁴ such as when Malakian sings that there’s “a tiger that’s riding on your back / And it’s singing out ‘Rawr! Rawr!'” (“Killing Spree”). Malakian also turns to the familiar theme of drug addiction that he and Serj have explored from “Sugar” to “Heroine” to “Chemicals.”⁵ This time around, it’s “Satan Hussein,” where he mixes Quaaludes and Vicodin with Jesus Christ. To offset the repetition within songs, Malakian has the sense to mix things up. There’s the nu-metal cuts of “Satan Hussein” and “Destroy the Power,” featuring energetic vocalizations and grooves, but there’s also a lot of pop (“You Destroy You”). The riffs may not be as wild or creative as times past, but Addicted to the Violence makes use of a variety of instruments that keep things fresh, from an organ (“Done Me Wrong”) to a mandolin (“You Destroy You”) to some sweet synth solos. There’s even a brief saxophone appearance to conclude the album. Yes, I know exactly what you’re thinking: “This sounds awesome!”

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

Though third outing Destroying Ourselves for a Place in the Sun unites sludge and dance, it wasn’t always so, as Modder has evolved with each release. On their self-titled debut, Modder trod the well-worn doom path with low-end crunch and abundant fuzz, recalling Sleep and Electric Wizard. Sophomore album The Great Liberation Through Hearing injected quicker paces and subdued attitudes, delivering a rich variety of textures that plays like Inter Arma sans vocals. Destroying Ourselves for a Place in the Sun continues the evolution of Modder’s sound, this time embracing dance-ready pulses and electronic trappings that occasionally approach Fear Factory’s Remanufacture (“Chaoism”). It’s a direction hinted at on The Great Liberation Through Hearing, but here Modder triumphs in fully fleshing it out.

On Destroying Ourselves for a Place in the Sun, Modder succeeds in evoking an assortment of influences while maintaining the band’s distinct identity. From the Korn-fed intro of “Stone Eternal” to the Gojira-glazed grooves of “In the Sun,” the album packs a broad range of sounds into its forty-two minutes. Each one of the album’s six tracks brings unerringly heavy riffs. “Mather” begins with a Prodigy-induced flourish, then drops into a disgustingly dense lurch that shakes the room like a herd of mammoths tromping past. Guitars, bass, and electronics weave an intricate tapestry, with melodies and countermelodies coalescing into grooves thicker than a bowl of oatmeal (“Stone Eternal,” “Mutant Body Double”). The drumming flits and hammers, with actual and programmed drums enabling quick shifts between sludge and breakbeat (“Chaoism”). This five-piece flaunts chops, and they pack them into an easily digestible package.

Even if Modder’s latest is a barrel of fun, its imperfections hold it back from greener pastures. For starters, the mix is distractingly crowded. I suspect the goal was to create a concussive bombshell that rattles listeners to the core. While effective on that front, there are times when the sludgy crunch warps into over-compressed artifacts (“Stone Eternal,” “Mather”). This may be a challenge with the merger of styles, where the electronic elements don’t require the auditory depth needed to express the timbre of acoustic drums or bass. Instead, the music gets rammed through the aural equivalent of Fat Man’s Squeeze, coming out the other side flat and jarring. Another issue with Destroying Ourselves for a Place in the Sun is immediacy. Both sludge and dance emanate a hypnotic sheen onto their styles, whether through towering, droning riffs or persistent electro-throbs. This makes great music for focusing on other tasks, but rarely did I stay engaged for an entire listen. If the goal is to surpass the novelty of instrumental electrosludge, something more is needed. As it is, Modder has strung together fun moments without enough cohesion. If you remove one of the songs or reorder them, the end result doesn’t change substantially, indicating that the whole is no greater than the sum of its parts.

Destroying Ourselves for a Place in the Sun is a study in cross-genre pollination that bears fruit worth sampling, but won’t sustain you for long. I really like the idea of what Modder has concocted, but the album would have benefited from further refinement. A more dynamic mix would immediately boost listenability, and upping their songwriting game could help push their brand of electrosludge past the point of novelty and into territory with more active engagement and longevity. Modder oozes potential, but there’s ultimately not enough on Destroying Ourselves for a Place in the Sun to keep me coming back.

Rating: Mixed
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kpbs mp3
Label: Consouling Sounds / Lay Bare Recordings
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: October 3rd, 2025

The post Modder – Destroying Ourselves for a Place in the Sun Review appeared first on Angry Metal Guy.

Wield is indeed diverse, containing many of the various touchstones under the expansive post-rock umbrella. As is typical of instrumental acts, Hiroe principally relies on a three-pronged guitar alliance (Eric Kusanagi, Brian Kong, and Jill Paslier) to construct and embellish the music. On the one hand are serene, luscious melodies designed to ruffle the heartstrings similarly to pg.lost or Caspian. On the other hand are dense post-metal guitar clusters favored by Pelican and Isis. But somewhere in the middle of these two extremes, they reveal progressive inclinations, which is where bassist Jon Seiler and drummer Dan Sagherian shine the most, their knotty rhythms adding depth and complexity.

Hiroe seems indecisive about targeting the heart or the head and misses both. Not completely, of course, and Wield does start off promisingly. “The Calm” opens with a gorgeous, glassy melody that artfully evokes feelings of eagerness as it accumulates layer after layer. But soon these hopes are quite literally crushed by the thick, slow wall of post-metal guitar chords of “Tides.” The wall eventually cracks open and a ringing guitar lead spills forth, but Wield never properly follows through on the lush beauty teed up in the intro track or evokes much of an emotional response from me. Attempts at intellectual stimulation don’t often connect either. “Collider” is the most promising from a technical standpoint, opening with an intricate, swirling guitar melody that dazzles at first but tends to overpower the other instruments as it reoccurs. It rarely feels like the three guitarists and the bassist fully realize the rich, multilayered compositions for which Hiroe is aiming.

However, what most impedes Wield is an imbalance between repetition and progression. Disappointingly, in this regard, Wield is heavily weighted towards the former. There are some genuinely compelling melodies, but they tend to span too many minutes. The record is composed of only six tracks, all of which (save for the intro) are at least seven minutes long, and none warrant their lengthy runtime. To keep things moving along, the more homogeneous songs should have been shortened (“I’ve Been Waiting for You All My Life,” “Dancing at the End of the World”), whereas “Collider” could have been cleanly split into two separate songs. The back half of the album feels particularly listless, the exception being the fuzzy and chunky guitar distortion of “The Crush,” but, again, each passage lingers too long. It may appear unfair or even antithetical to criticize post-rock for repetition, but for a free-form instrumental variation to transcend background music, each individual passage must foster a natural continuity with the next without overstaying its welcome.

Ultimately, Wield proved to be a frustrating experience. I enjoy much of the music during a given moment, but it rarely feels like the constituent elements come together in a satisfying way. Though I can appreciate Hiroe’s attempt to expand the horizons of post-rock and post-metal, this repetitive long-form songwriting strategy is not working for me. Despite the overall tone of this review, I don’t actually dislike Wield, but I’m simply unmoved. That said, die-hard fans of the genre may well find more to enjoy than I did. Each member of Hiroe is a talented musician, and they’ll likely be a force to be reckoned with after maturing as composers.

Rating: 2.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 192 kbps mp3
Label: Pelagic Records
Websites: hiroe.bandcamp.com | hiroemusic.com | facebook.com/hiroemusic
Releases Worldwide: June 20th, 2025

The post Hiroe – Wield Review appeared first on Angry Metal Guy.

In the collision of these two thick-stringed giants, Tetradōm weaves and wobbles in delectable harmony. The role of bass in rock and metal arrangements rarely settles into that of the lead. But with conductors of this caliber on fretless, and extended-range bass devices,² nasally slides, flatulent thumps, and snarling shuffles rumble about this airy but grounded soundstage. Despite the low-end firepower at play, each accompanying performer brings flair and experience to their respective lanes. Guitarist (and engineer for Tetradōm) Eve (Kaathe) brings a flowing touch and additional melodic guide—opener “Moksha” even leads with her crystalline phrasing—that borrows from her tenure with instrumental progressive outlet Myth of I. And kitmeister Yuma van Eekelen has a storied rhythmic history with understated bands Our Oceans and Exivious that allows his textural phrasing to embolden the space between flying frequencies. No shortage of talent befalls Quadvium’s calculated stride.

Though a tag of supergroup may follow Quadvium, Tetradōm leads with an ear for the tasteful and impactful rather than one deafened by excess. All members of Quadvium possess an overwhelming prowess and creativity that edges toward the funky fresh technicality of a fusion act like Tribal Tech. Yet, with a djent-like groove, Quadvium reclaims the sterile nature of scooped drop-F chugging against glitchy electronic backings with panned wide, warm bass massaging (“Apophis,” “Adhyasa”). Popping harmonics blare³ in a glory as flighty interruptions amongst Animals as Leaders-knotted riffage, all while capturing the exploratory jazz feel of the iconic and influential Jaco Pastorius (“Náströnd”). Howling and whinnying melodies signal a path around which Eve and van Eekelen can prance in touch-and-go solo flutters and cymbal-savvy atmosphere (“Sarab,” “Eidolon”). The breadth of techniques and tones on display requires an open and engaged mind to enjoy. But Quadvium’s resonant, interwoven throughput tied fast to ever-unfolding refrains never drifts into solo-laden, wandering note tedium.

Such a bass-forward presentation—and not in the subwoofer booming way that modern hip-hop or electronic music can be—requires a listening setup with an extra oomph through the low and mid range. I remember the first time I listened to Gordian Knot’s “Arsis,” a subtle solo bass intro to 2003’s classic, Emergent, I could have sworn nothing emerged from my crackling Logitech speakers, its subtle hum nary an auditory blip. Quadvium doesn’t render their instrumental dialogue quite as soft-spoken, with performers’ metal edges and jazzy chatter (and Eve’s cybersynth sound design) filling the room with bright, up-front, persistent movement. But to hear the nuances, and fall into a fuller love with Tetradōm, you may have to reach for your richest listening mode so that you lose neither the delicate drum teasing intro to “Ghardus”—and the bass duo’s subsequent descent to the lowest range of the experience—nor the delicate floor-scraping harmonies of “Apophis.” Of course, you could just crank that volume knob, lay out on the floor, and let the braying call-and-response bends of “Sarab” or the modulated stacked-track bliss of “Eidolon” vibrate your being to a higher existence.

Without a single word, Quadvium manages to conjure the esoteric nature that Tetradōm and its philosophy-inspired titles promise. Its strike, though, takes full shape, eschewing the potential for amorphous free jazz tone flexing that fusion music can embody. DiGiorgio and Thesseling have a vision of what bass can be in a rock and metal context, and Tetradōm realizes that with every squeaking slide, pattering finger roll, cascading chord. Masters don’t always produce hungry music, but Quadvium has shown their appetite remains growling.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Agonia Records | Bandcamp
Website: facebook.com/quadviumofficial
Releases Worldwide: May 30th, 2025

The post Quadvium – Tetradōm Review appeared first on Angry Metal Guy.

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

The post Cruce Signatus – II Review appeared first on Angry Metal Guy.

Black Narcissus’ main goal is to cultivate an environment where individual emotional responses can freely blossom. There Lingers One Who’s Long Forgotten is teeming with ethereal, evocative melodies sounding like the result of cross-pollination between earlier Explosions in the Sky and Alcest’s Les Voyages de L’Âme era.¹ As this description might suggest, there is little resembling heaviness aside from stray blast beats and thick, reverb-drenched bass chords. But those who share our Overlord’s cynical views regarding the role of reverb in atmospheric music needn’t worry; in this case, it’s not a crutch to force a specific mood. Rather, the rich moods naturally wax and wane through masterful musical arrangements, developed enough to easily latch onto yet ambiguous enough to leave room for personal interpretation. Black Narcissus recognizes that, like in nature, there is beauty in simplicity, and all are welcome to partake.

Mother Nature may recycle her resources but Black Narcissus doesn’t recycle ideas. Both players continually explore different melodies and tempos, like walking past one tree after another, each unique but part of a singular forest. Massant’s bass lines gently cascade during “In Throes of Increasing Wonder” and ripple in “Draped in Ivy, Guilded by Time” as if in response to Wuyts’ syncopated crashes like raindrops hitting a pond surface. I can’t stress enough how much the drumming thrives in this partnership. Wuyts takes full advantage of the music’s free-flowing character to play one intricate rhythm after another, seemingly using the entirety of his drum kit on a regular basis. The music is further enriched by the warm and whimsical tones of an upright bass—Massant proving to be an expert bassist in more than one sense—which cast a folksy cinematic tint onto tracks such as “On This Twilight Evening” and “These Hands That Build.”

The reluctance of Black Narcissus to linger long in any one place does not mean that they abandon streams of thought prematurely. They provide ample space for each musical passage to gradually bloom and disperse seeds to transition to the next as effortlessly as the passage of time. Time, though, is largely irrelevant here. There Lingers One Who’s Long Forgotten lasts for exactly one hour, but it could have been either half or twice as long and remained equally entrancing. Therefore, it works best if the listener is willing to surrender any dispositions toward customary song structures and witness a forest grow at its pleasure with no concern for the orderliness of man. To this end, the production sounds fantastic. The bass lines, often layered atop one another, are easily audible; each cymbal tap, tom beat, and snare hit sounds crisp and satisfying. My only minuscule grievance is when a spoken word sample in “At the Mercy of Men with No Mercy at All” interrupts immersion by lasting too long, but the other samples throughout the album are used more sparingly.

There Lingers One Who’s Long Forgotten is an aural treat I could never have been prepared for. I selected an instrumental album because I thought it would help me focus during a busy period in my day job, but it gave me way more than I bargained for. While it does make for pleasant background music, it becomes increasingly rewarding the more time and attention are invested. It’s truly an album to become lost in, each hauntingly beautiful song a great companion for many different moods and activities. After five paragraphs of inadequate efforts to describe its majestic sound, I have to admit that Black Narcissus is correct: words are of little value in this realm. So, if you haven’t already, press play and hear the magic for yourself.

Rating: 4.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: PCM
Label: Dunk! Records (EU) | A Thousand Arms Music (US)
Websites: blacknarcissusband.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/blacknarcissusband
Releases Worldwide: February 14th, 2025

The post Black Narcissus – There Lingers One Who’s Long Forgotten Review appeared first on Angry Metal Guy.

Post-metal is more of a qualifier than a genre, truth be told, but Million Moons do their best to make a sound of their own. While opener “Terra Nova” may trick the listener into thinking the band employs a crystalline, ambient approach, they quickly show they favor a brawnier, more immediate brand of post. The best comparisons here would be Caspian and If These Trees Could Talk, although there are passages of God Is An Astronaut-style EDM (“Uncharted Waters,” “Intruders In A Strange World”) and the cerebral, hemiola-laced djent of TesseracT (“Voice of the Wild”). The music oscillates between lush distant piano melodies braced against arpeggiated, heavily delayed guitars (“Terra Nova,” “Aurora”) and drum-driven passages that often triple-layer rhythms between the instruments for a sound that is at once chaotic while retaining metric rigidity (“I May Be Some Time,” “Endure, Overcome”).

Million Moons excel at atmosphere-building and the contrast of icy light with digital dark. The band aren’t content with the patient building of thick chords that usually heralds post-metal; they pepper their songs with atypical harmonic shifts (“Uncharted Waters”) and odd-time drum patterns (“Intruders In A Strange World” “Endure, Overcome”). One’s tolerance for rave-style EDM and djentistry will mark how much enjoyment can be derived from I May Be Some Time; the band makes these sounds a cornerstone of the album. The drums are particularly intricate, lending a different rhythmic shape to each song, but run a little too complex against the rest of the instruments (“Terra Nova,” “Voice of the Wild”). Even with a modest DR 6, the music is undeniably pretty, with all the instruments occupying their own detailed space. Of note is that I May Be Some Time clocks in at a lithe 36 minutes; a veritable EP in the world of post-metal, one of the few genres where too little material may be a red flag.

I May Be Some Time often leaves the impression of excellent musical material that’s missing some time in development. Longer tracks do a good job of moving from section to section, careful not to overstay their welcome, but the melodic material never reaches payoff level, and the dynamics never really explode (“Uncharted Waters,” “I May Be Some Time”). Shorter tracks are more aggressive—read EDM/djent—filled with hooky grooves and frantic energy, but I miss development sections, secondary melodies, or extended guitar leads in their clipped runtimes (“Voice of the Wild,” “Intruders In A Strange Land”). But one-two punch “Endure, Overcome” and “Aurora” show what Million Moons can do when everything clicks into place. The former launches into slick polyrhythms and offbeat snare hits before transitioning into a triumphant major section, the eponymous “overcome.” And “Aurora,” a magnificent example of the instrumental long form, shows a patience in its development previously unseen on the record, twisting and climbing into a gorgeous, heartbreaking bi-chordal progression illustrating the final moments of the story’s protagonists.

As the album fades away, I’m left with an impression of what Million Moons are capable of over a pair of songs, but not an entire record. Listening back to A Gap In The Clouds it’s clear the band chose a more truncated and aggressive direction for this record, and that paid in both dividends and losses. I May Be Some Time makes for an enlightening distraction to the growls and shrieks of everyday metal life, and contains some real kernels of possibility for the young band. The bedeviled lot of you who are fans of instrumental metal should give this band a fair shake, and those of you who aren’t should check it out anyway, and expand your horizons past the Southern Seas and into the frozen unknown.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s
Label: Ripcord Records | Bandcamp
Websites: facebook.com | Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: July 5, 2024

The post Million Moons – I May Be Some Time Review appeared first on Angry Metal Guy.