“How experimental is too experimental? That’s the question Chicago’s Abhorrent Expanse posits. It’s clear from the title: Enter the Misanthropocene enters to play jazz and fuck shit up, and “Bitches Brew” is on its final notes. When the Lord of the Promo Pit designated the quartet as “death-drone,” I was intrigued and gobbled up rights. It was clear from the jump that Abhorrent Expanse was not the death metal act with a mammoth guitar tone I had hoped, but an improvisational free jazz quartet that decides to do extreme metal sometimes, with death metal, grindcore, and, yes, drone metal making short-lived appearances.” Expansive ambitions.
Ambient Metal
Mütterlein – Amidst the Flames, May Our Organs Resound Review
“I’ve always unfairly ranked Rorcal above Overmars. What can I say? I got into Heliogabalus and Born Again around the same time, enamored by both single epic song interpretations of hardcore vigor, pained dissonance, and pitch-black sludge. Still, Heliogabalus took the cake when it came to bottom-scraping hellish riffs, wailing, and gnashing of teeth. Themes differ, as Rorcal’s elegant storytelling added further majesty to their colossal attack, while Overmars’ scrappy commentary on injustice and religious trauma owed a more anti-establishment aura. Rorcal remains one of my favorite acts, while Overmars broke up in 2011. Out of sight, out of mind, but it wasn’t until now that Overmars has come back to haunt me in the form of Mütterlein.” Mütter in the middle.
Novarupta – Astral Sands Review
“Novarupta’s Astral Sands is the fourth and final part of a tetralogy based on the elements fire, water, air, and earth. Covering the ‘earth’ part of that equation, Astral Sands follows ‘air,’ which came in the form of 2022’s Carrion Movements. A departure from previous outings, that album was an instrumental piece, comprising just two sprawling compositions but was executed so well that I couldn’t help but award it a 4.0. Astral Sands sees Novarupta not only reintroduce the vocals but return to the model seen on the series’ first two installments, Disillusioned Fire and Marine Snow, respectively, working with a different vocalist for each track on the album.” Metal bending.
Unreqvited – A Pathway to the Moon Review
“Unreqvited and I have history. The excellent Mosaic I: L’Amour et L’Ardeur (2018) was just the third review I wrote here and also my first 4.0. Since then, I’ve reviewed the slightly creaky Mosaic II: La déteste et la détresse (3.0) and the very good Beautiful Ghosts (3.5). Now back with seventh album, A Pathway to the Moon, Unreqvited are the band I’ve reviewed more than any other, and the bright, expansive synth work, paired with post-black explosions and howled, wordless vocals feel almost like a comforting hug at this point.” Like a comfortable shoe(gaze).
Fós – Níl mo chroí in aon rud Review
“When I reviewed Irish duo Fós’ last outing, Rinne mé iarraidh (which translates as “I Tried”), back in 2020, I wanted to be spellbound. And I was, in parts. Combining traditional Irish folk sean-nós singing (courtesy of Orla Cadden Patel) with the drone, electronica and the vaguely post-metal stylings of multi-instrumentalist and main songwriter Fionn Murray, it had a deeply emotional core. It was also rare in offering something genuinely unique. At the same time, the duo were finding their voice on that record, and it showed. Cadden Patel’s voice was stunning but, at times, rather than coalescing with the music, the two felt discordant and disjointed, while the music itself was rarely memorable. Four years later, with a record deal and a new singer—Susan ní Cholmáin—Fós are back with Níl mo chroí in aon rud.” Folking about.
Bunsenburner – Reverie Review
“My relationship with Germany’s Bunsenburner grows with each release, and you could say it’s getting pretty serious, like a dark romantasy. I completely ripped third full-length Poise a new one which garnered the ire of mastermind Ben Krahl. But like any hate relationship that borders on masochistic, he saw the light and sent in follow-up Rituals – and our love blossomed. The act’s backbone lies in the fuzz and jam-sesh vibes of stoner metal, but with enough free jazz and crystalline ambiance to kill a full-grown elephant, it embraces the psychedelia in tasteful ways with instrumental prowess.” Lab safety is cat safety.
Silent Planet – Superbloom Review
“Silent Planet, named after the first installment of C.S. Lewis’ creatively titled Space trilogy, has always been a lyrical triumph and the pinnacle of metalcore consistency throughout the quartet’s four-album run. With the relentless vulnerability and desperation of The Night God Slept and Everything Was Sound, the regality of When the End Began, and the experimental textures of Iridescent, you could always expect technicality and atmosphere balanced throughout.” Where silence is golden.
Midnight Odyssey – Biolume Part 3: A Fullmoon Madness Review
“The Biolume trilogy is massive, not only in runtime but also in the scope of its storytelling. The records move from darkened subterranean halls on In Tartarean Chains, through a blinding desert of celestial light on The Golden Orb to stare at the haunting night sky, dimly lit by that same light reflecting off a dead satellite on A Fullmoon Madness. Perhaps it was always inevitable that, as we moved up through these levels, each would be vaster in scope and scale than the last.” Size matters.
Phantom Winter – Her Cold Materials Review
“Seldom does artwork perfectly embody a band’s sound, but Phantom Winter’s four-album streak of black-and-white portrayals of the horrific and fantastical is dead-on. While lightless and unceasingly dreary, there is a stillness that silences the cacophony. Like a barren forest in the last sigh of winter, Her Cold Materials is a scream receiving no echo, the soft “thump” of a body in the snow, the mockery of the woods’ constant and uninterested witness. In the bleak model of consistency, Phantom Winter once again proves the grit of its mettle in a frostbitten silence that proves less is more.” Winter is coming (soon).
Bolt Gun – The Tower Revew
“The Tower feels like ascent. You’ll feel light as air, floating upon the ether in warm sunlight, only to crash to earth in plummeting gravity. While journeys are not uncommon across metal’s many weathered and storied expanses, Australia’s Bolt Gun offers a vertical trek. Its experimental fervor, blackened climaxes, and monolithic weight, and above all, the emphasis on atmosphere, offer scenic vistas and groveling earth alike, hurtling towards the summit and the zenith. Always majestic, as if in reverence to the colossal structure always in view, The Tower feels like a chronicle: a breathing, organic, but dense legend.” Climbing creativity.
















