Style: Black metal, atmospheric black metal, folk (harsh vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Winterfylleth, Grima, Havukruunu, Panopticon, Abigail Williams
Country: New York, United States
Release date: 8 August 2025

Native American and Norse peoples share a few historical parallels in how they were confronted, overrun, and transformed by Christian evangelization. Norse paganism was gradually outlawed in favor of Christianity in the high middle ages, while colonization of and expansion within the New World saw many Native American peoples and practices eradicated via law, violence, and disease. Many surviving texts and oral traditions from these cultures were subsequently preserved (and thus perverted) through Christian reinterpretation and narrative.¹ In both histories conversion to Christianity was, to put it lightly, highly encouraged. The treatment and transformation of these two ocean-separated populations isn’t a mirror image, but their history certainly rhymes.

In its developing stages, a large part of Scandinavian black metal identity was rooted in rebelling against that historical inertia and embracing the old ways²—continuing to shape the genre to this day. All that to say: I can see how the sights, sounds, and lyrics of black metal might have a certain appeal to somebody of Native American descent. Though he’s not the first to infuse an indigenous influence with extreme metal, Jon Krieger’s Blackbraid is certainly my favorite. Blackbraid I was an instant darling and my favorite release of 2022; the Native American inspiration, artwork, and dour yet melodious atmosphere in the music hit all the right spots for me. Blackbraid II (2023) was even better, expanding on and refining the ideas from its predecessor and cementing Krieger as more than just a one-off.

Blackbraid III has now descended upon us, with no shortage of the fire and frost of its elder brethren. As before, riffs arrive in a variety of guises: tremolo-picked blizzards punctuated by brash high chords, power-chord progressions that chant beneath soaring lead lines, and even a few chugs on the low end for good measure. The unceasing wintry gale of the harmonious guitars in “Tears of the Dawn” will blanket you in aural snow, and the hollow production style of the album only adds to that chilling effect. “God of Black Blood” trudges with slow, face-crumpling heaviness (and has the album’s standout guitar solo). My favorite track, though, is “And He Became the Burning Stars.” It opens with a triplet-driven 6/8 riff whose rhythm is an oar cutting through turbulent waters. Surrounding this riff are dissonant yet melodic chords that crash into it, feeling both alien to the riff but perfectly at home in the album’s broader sound. But, the real magic of the song comes in its melodic and soft bridge that transitions into the latter half of the piece, which completely transforms the song into something as beautiful and pensive as the opening was aggressive. You’ll remain exhilarated and moved across its ten minute runtime.

The music here is so consistently captivating that the greatest criticism I can level at Blackbraid III is its overly rigid structure. The opening tracks set a template that the rest of the album rarely strays from: a soft, acoustic opener (“Dusk (Eulogy)”) followed by a full-throttle black metal scorcher (“Wardrums at Dawn on the Day of My Death”). This pattern is almost ever-present, deviating only after “Wardrums…” and again at the very end, with a fantastic cover of Lord Belial’s “Fleshbound.” One particular interlude track, “The Earth Is Weeping,” is overly repetitive, three times as lengthy as it should be, and should have been attached to its predecessor as an outro. Others, though, justify their place—like “Traversing the Forest of Eternal Dusk,” which weaves flowing guitar melodies, Native American flute, and what sounds like genuine field recordings of a living forest into something transportive. Such interludes are the quiet nighttime fires that keep you alive amidst the icy gusts of the black metal blizzard about you.

Krieger’s knack for creating evocative song titles continues to be in full effect³ on Blackbraid III. With names like “And He Became the Burning Stars” or “Wardrums at Dawn on the Day of My Death,” the part of me that longs for lore and some form of spiritual communion with nature swells just reading them. The lyrics are no slouch either: “The dust of my spirit / Shall flow forth at twilight / A sacred sepulchre in frost / An offering of flesh to the moss” (from “The Dying Breath of a Sacred Stag”). Adding to the effect is the top-notch vocal delivery and production on III. While not being able to understand a harsh vocalist’s specific words almost never detracts from a song for me, intelligible rasps and gutturals can only elevate the material—and nary a scathing shriek passed through my ears that I couldn’t understand on first listen.

I came into Blackbraid III with expectations that were miles high, and in that sense I might be slightly disappointed. Across its fifty-three minutes, the shifts between fury and calm create a cycle of tension and release that mirrors the ebb and flow of the natural landscapes that the album evokes. Thus, the music clings to the tonal and structural palette of its magical predecessors—perhaps to a fault. The consistency that Blackbraid has displayed across three releases is both a blessing and a curse. I tend to be most interested in trying out new flavors from an established artist, and Blackbraid III doesn’t exactly try any different recipes in the cookbook. Yet its strong songwriting, deep integration of the creator’s folklore, and solid production values go a long way to turn a “more of the same” release into something that I’ll keep spinning over the years.

Recommended tracks: And He Became the Burning Stars, Traversing the Forest of Eternal Dusk, The Dying Breath of a Sacred Stag, Like Wind Through the Reeds Making Waves Like Water
You may also like: Saor, Walg, Valdrin, Pan Amerikan Native Front
Final verdict: 7.5/10

Related links: Bandcamp | Official Website | Instagram | Metal-Archives

Label: Independent

Blackbraid is:
– Jon S. Krieger, also known as Sgah’gahsowáh (vocals, guitars, bass)
With guests:
– Neil Schneider (drums)

1. I myself grew up in an American-born Christian tradition that bastardizes the history of Native Americans. ︎
2. And I mean the old “old ways,” not the South/Central Europe circa 1939 “old ways.” ︎
3. “Barefoot Ghost Dance on Bloodsoaked Soil,” “Warm Wind Whispering Softly Through Hemlock at Dusk” (Blackbraid I), “A Song of Death on the Winds of Dawn,” and “Twilight Hymn of Ancient Blood” (Blackbraid II) being some favorites from previous albums. ︎

The post Review: Blackbraid – Blackbraid III appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Artwork by: Marald van Haasteren

Style: Doom Metal, Alternative Metal (Clean Vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Alice in Chains, Baroness, Pallbearer
Country: New York, United States
Release date: 27 June 2025

This may upset some people, but I thought Alice In Chains’ mid-Aughts reformation yielded some of the band’s coolest work. Perhaps not anything remotely as eternal as “Man in the Box,” “Rooster,” or “Would?,” but the shift from dark, moody grunge to dark, moody, doom-inspired grooves and atmosphere on Black Gives Way to Blue (2009) and The Devil Put Dinosaurs Here (2013) was fucking sick. Furthermore, they helped propel me towards bands like Pallbearer and other purveyors of riff-forward heavy rock. Disappointingly, the William DuVall-era of Alice in Chains has seen little activity since 2018’s Rainier Fog. Luckily, Blood Vulture has swooped in to partake of Jerry Cantrell and the boys’ lunch.

Circling the skylines of New York, the titular Blood Vulture reveals itself as one Jordan Olds, host of YouTube talk show Two Minutes to Late Night and, apparently, omni-gifted musician. From the girthsome, riff-forward doom guitars, modern metalcore-flavored synthesizers, roiling bass, down to the eerie Jerry Cantrell-esque crooning and bellowing, Olds executes nearly every aspect of debut album Die Close. One-man projects are nothing new in the world of metal (black metal, especially, seems laden with bedroom conjurers). While undertaking such a project is, I think, deserving of some measure of applause out the gate, there runs the risk that such high-minded ambitions may outstrip the capacity of the practitioner. For every Midnight Odyssey, a thousand more Oksennus¹ (Oksenni?) exist, filling the void with noise. Olds, to his credit, appears to have sidestepped some of this auteur-minded hubris by stacking a sizable guest roster at his back. But is this enough to give Blood Vulture’s debut the wings needed to soar? Or is the folly of man destined to curse Die Close with Icarian luck?

I’ll not beat around the wing—er, bush: This album kicks ass. From the opening guitar line and creeping vocal motifs of “Die Close: Overture” (finally, an intro that warrants its existence!) to the last resplendent harmonies of “Die Close: Finale,” Blood Vulture spends forty-five minutes delivering delectable platters of slow-rolling, tectonic alternative metal skewed toward a darkly Gothic ethos about a vampire living out the last of his immortal days long after the death of Humanity. Thick yet nimble riffs drill through post-apocalyptic landscapes of thunderous drums and growling bass tones, synths glittering like snatches of starlight piercing smog-choked skies. Olds’ voice is rich and thrumming with a decadent power worthy of his centuries-old protagonist. Alongside the obvious Cantrell-canting, there’re nuggets of John Baizely (Baroness) lingering in his harmonies (“Die Close: Interlude”), and even flashes of Sumerlands’ Phil Swanson in the way his voice melds with the production, culminating in a mosaic of winsome sonic idents.

Musically, Die Close haunts the liminal space between the morbid emotionality of Alice in Chains and the heaving riff-roil and production-blasting of modern doom mavericks Pallbearer. Olds buries the listener in bone-churning, groove-laden guitars, like the plaintive howls of Mankind’s vengeful ghost echoing across this blasted necropolis called Earth. Moe Watson’s drumming is equally committed, pounding and bludgeoning whatever life remains, heavy as the footsteps of our doomed vampiric wayfarer—yet capable of breaking into bursts of potent energy when required (“An Embrace In The Flood,” “A Dream About Starving To Death,” “Grey Mourning”), striking out with stampeding double bass and frenzied ride cymbal strikes like a sudden onset of PTSD. Doom metal can sometimes wander into realms of navel gazing, keen to drill away at a riff or motif endlessly to the point where the proverbial horse is beyond beaten. Blood Vulture soars over this pitfall thanks to considerate track lengths and song structures designed around forward momentum. Guest contributions from the likes of Kristin Hayter (Reverend Kristin Michael Hayter, ex-Lingua Ignota), Brian Fair (Shadows Fall, Overcast, Hell Night, Downpour), and Jade Puget (AFI, Blaqk Audio, XTRMST) fit into Die Close’s architecture flawlessly, adding to the album’s layers of dark, tragic beauty. (Hayter on “Entwined” creates an absolute standout of a track, in particular, her gospel-like vocals the perfect partner to Olds’ resonant cleans.) Even the interludes, of which there are three, secure worthy positions thanks to how they return to and build upon what becomes the album’s central motif, with “Die Close: Finale” closing the story with the kind of sorrowful bombast worthy of a suffering immortal.

Another feather in Blood Vulture’s plumage is a far simpler (on paper), yet no less important matter—one that has oft-wounded many an ambitious band and, generally (for me), marred the very reputation of the vaunted concept album. Olds has managed to strike a fine balance between his narrative goals and musical musts. He never forgets that Die Close is an album. Not a book. Not a movie. An album, whose mission first and foremost must be to enrapture the listener with its sonic wiles. Lyrics, and storytelling by proxy, are necessary components to this configuration, but when Aristotelian directives override bardic needs with three-act fancies, there’s little to be salvaged from the experience. Barring the “Die Close” trifecta of interludes, any of Die Close’s seven proper tracks can stand strong in a playlist shuffle without blunting momentum or capsizing the story, as the narratives are nestled snugly within the ebb and flow of their parent songs.

Since Sleep Token dropped Even In Arcadia back in May, I have been wondering if there would be anything in 2025 to come along and grab me in any similar way. I’ve listened to more than a few fun records, but most have been missing some measure of that special sauce required to saturate my taste. Blood Vulture doesn’t entirely reach the same level of addictive listening—few things will, at least until Silent Planet drops a new album—but this has been the first record post-EIA that I’ve sat back and gone, “I don’t really have anything negative to say.” Maybe the production could be a little clearer at times—the bass tends to get lost amidst the ruckus, an affliction all too common within metal—but this is some of the grooviest, coolest stuff I’ve listened to all year. Olds (and his collaborators) must certainly be commended for dropping such a confident piece of work. I don’t know who in 2025 may be waiting for new Alice in Chains, but if you’re out there, fret not: Blood Vulture is here to fill the void, and then some.

Recommended tracks: A Dream About Starving To Death, Grey Mourning, Entwined, Die Close: Finale
You may also like: A Pale Horse Named Death, Hangman’s Choir
Final verdict: 8.5/10

Related links: Bandcamp | Official Website | Facebook | Instagram | Metal-Archives

Label: Pure Noise Records – Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Website

Blood Vulture is:
– Jordan Olds (vocals, guitars, bass, synthesizers)
With guests:
– Jade Puget (additional guitars on “Grey Mourning”)
– Kristin Hayter (additional vocals on “Entwined” and “Die Close: Finale”)
– Brian Fair (additional vocals on “Burn For It”)
– Moe Watson (drums)
– Gina Gleason (additional guitars on “Die Close: Interlude”, additional vocals on “Die Close: Finale”)
– Emily Lee (additional vocals on “Die Close: Finale”)
– Steve Brodsky (additional vocals on “Die Close: Finale”)
– Kayleigh Goldsworthy (violin on “Entwined,” “Die Close: Interlude,” and “Abomination”)

1. See Andy’s review of Auringolla Ei Ole Käsiä for details. ︎

The post Review: Blood Vulture – Die Close appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: Progressive death metal (mixed vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Septicflesh, Fleshgod Apocalypse, Strapping Young Lad, Children of Bodom
Country: United States (NY)
Release date: 4 July 2025

What’s in a name? The walls of my music library are lined with bands whose creative output I passed over for years due to their terrible branding. Septicflesh, Fleshgod Apocalypse, Bedsore… the list goes on. I’ll never understand why so many good artists choose to debase their projects by naming themselves after bodily functions or necrotic diseases. While I may be more prudish than many in the metal scene (I judiciously save up swear words for special occasions and avoid them in everyday use), I’ve nonetheless learned that sometimes, you have to set aside preconceptions based on a band’s name, and let the music speak for itself. And who better to come gushing forth from the underground metal scene to help me enact this principle than the campily-named Pissectomy?

Setting aside for a moment the troubling medical implication of a pissectomy (where is the piss going? Does the procedure make you unable to piss, or does it cause a constant stream to be siphoned from your body?), Pissectomy’s name was clearly chosen for shock value. The band’s early output leaned into this, with deliberately subversive and urine-based lyrical themes and a sample-heavy, drugged-out noisegrind style. However, the adage of “let it mellow if it’s yellow” seems to have shaped Pissectomy’s style and restraint over time, as the latest record holds a surprising amount of refinement under the toilet-seat humour.

Pissectomy is nominally a one-man project helmed by Jason Steffen of New York and South Korea¹, but much of new release Electric Elephant Graveyard is brought to life by a cast of hired guns from Fiverr (an online marketplace for freelance service providers) and similar platforms, and the result is intriguingly genre-fluid. The first two tracks on the album are lavishly outfitted in sympho-death grandeur—think of the aforementioned Septicflesh or Fleshgod Apocalypse—but then the orchestra quietly slips out the back before the third track, “Sharkstar”, without so much as a tuba case banging against the doorframe on the way out. Save for a subtle reprise of some strings in album closer “Singularity”, the rest of the album relieves itself of symphonic elements, offering up riffs and licks galore with predominant influences from death metal titans like Cannibal Corpse and Children of Bodom, plus dashes of power, thrash, and prog.

For all of Pissectomy’s crude branding, Electric Elephant Graveyard is surprisingly restrained in its use of urinary humor, and it’s certainly not evident in the music itself. The tracks are layered, and even in a single offering like the seven-minute “Starstorm Omega”, multiple stylistic themes from fantastical power metal pomp to rhythmically itch-scratching, proggy helter-skelter are deployed thoughtfully. If you were not privy to Pissectomy’s subject matter, you could listen to almost the entire album without noticing any overt nephritics. Occasional lyrical groaners like “rest in piss” or “war and piss” are easy enough to miss. The jig is up, however, on the rather overtly-named “Pissrealm Antichrist”, where a layered vocal chorus repeatedly chants “all hail piss and shit”.

With Pissectomy’s freelanced cast of contributors, who exactly deserves credit for the various elements of Electric Elephant Graveyard is cloudy². The vocal duties, for instance, are shared between Steffen himself and at least one guest contributor, Topias Jokipii. Whatever the division of labour, the results are dynamic and versatile. There’s a simperingly evil D&D-grade sorcerer flavour to the spoken word on “Pissrealm Antichrist”, Cannibal Corpse-esque torridly deep pigsqueals on “Sharkstar”, and a gritty clean vocal refrain on “Sharkstar” that sounds like King Diamond pitched down an octave or so out of the screeching falsetto stratosphere. The guitar work, though, might just be number one. Steffen is clearly having a blast, and moments like the indulgently sprawling solo in “Welcome to Dead End” or the tightly coiled, chugging bursts on “Starstorm Omega” demonstrate equal parts laudable musicianship and clever composition.

While there is some level of tonal coherence across Electric Elephant Graveyard, as Pissectomy keeps up a steady flow of momentum, a clearer sense of identity would help the record to better coalesce. Pissectomy is a former noisegrind band blending elements of symphonic, power, death, thrash, and progressive metal into their sound. And while Steffen clearly has reverence for all of these genres, the crossing of the streams can be a bit much. There’s even an acoustic guitar interlude, “Astronomy”, which is lovely but lands rather disjointedly in the album’s entirety. Perhaps some of the vignette-based songwriting from Steffen’s noisegrind roots is hampering the development of a cohesive whole. The individual elements succeed, but a step back to take in the big picture across the album’s forty minutes could help everything stick together.

 If given ten guesses as to what a band named Pissectomy would sound like, I wouldn’t have come close. While I still wouldn’t rush to pop this album on the aux, Electric Elephant Graveyard’s balls-to-the-wall energy, as well as veneration for the various genres influencing Pissectomy’s sound, makes for a surprisingly charming listen. Sometimes, you have to be prepared to flush your assumptions down the drain.

Recommended tracks: Welcome to Dead End, Sharkstar, Singularity
You may also like: Shadecrown, Sigh
Final verdict: 6.5/10

Related links: Bandcamp | Instagram | Metal-Archives

Label: Independent

Pissectomy is:
– Jason Steffen (guitar, vocals)
– Topias Jokipii (vocals)
– People from Fiverr (other assorted instruments)

1. Steffen is currently stationed with the US military in South Korea as a fighter pilot. ︎
2. Like your pee might be if you’re dehydrated. ︎

The post Review: Pissectomy – Electric Elephant Graveyard appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: Progressive metal, power metal (clean vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Symphony X, Dream Theater, Seventh Wonder, Angra
Country: United States-New York
Release date: 14 June 2025

Sometimes I lament the fact that I only started The Progressive Subway in 2018. There werevso many interesting underground albums in the years prior, but if not for reviewing, finding a reason to attentively listen to a random good, maybe even great obscure album from, say, 2014 becomes increasingly difficult as the years go by. An underground album needs to be either strikingly unique or exceptionally well written (or both!) to stand the test of time. One such album I wish I had gotten to review is Daydream XI’s 2017 release The Circus of the Tattered and Torn: a brilliant concept album in classic prog metal fashion, blending Symphony X, Dream Theater, and Seventh Wonder in equal parts. Tragically, Daydream XI disbanded as their main songwriter Tiago Masseti moved from Brazil to New York. Now, eight years after Circus, Masseti has blessed us with a solo album to continue his prog-power quest for the stars. Can Odds and Ends live up to the hype?

In many ways, Odds and Ends continues where Circus left off and shows much of what made that album so special: ferocious, heavy-as-balls riffage, superb lead guitar work skillfully balancing melody and shred, charismatic vocals, tight songwriting, and all the odd-time and transition wankery a prog fan could ask for. The overall tone has become darker, however, thanks to brooding synths and slightly more ferocious riffs, and Masseti has also experimented with multi-tracking himself to make a choir, such as on “The Singer in the Arms of Winter” and “Never Be Like You”. Of course, one must not forget to mention the heavy Symphony X influences that seep through nearly every crack of Masseti’s writing, most of which he disguises just well enough to avoid the worship allegations (for when he doesn’t—just listen to the intro of “Heir of the Survivor”), and the clear Dream Theater-isms that pop up in proggier moments (e.g. the unison solo in “Against Our Fire”). Either way, Masseti’s talent for songwriting ensures influences are cute nods instead of belabored crutches, and his instrumental prowess is dazzling as ever.

At a succinct 47 minutes, Odds and Ends is remarkably compact, for the prog-power genre at large but especially so considering both Daydream XI albums spanned over 70 minutes. Much like Circus, the first half of Odds and Ends consists of compact, riff-driven tracks, while the latter half contains epics, slow burners, and ballads. This structuring leads to incredible momentum at first, but rather stilted pacing in the mid-to-late stretch that the album’s closing epic can only partially remedy, as any gathered steam has been irretrievably lost. On Circus, “Forgettable” was the major momentum killer, ironically living up to its name by being the third lengthy slow-starting track in a row when a faster overall tempo was needed (on a sidenote: this is my only real gripe with Circus). On Odds and Ends, most momentum from the first three tracks was already “Gone” thanks to a breather ballad, but it’s the follow-up Dio-homage “The Singer in the Arms of Winter” that truly wreaks the album’s pacing with its dramatic, plodding arrangements and extended ballad-y outro. The track is fine in execution by itself—if a tad long—thanks to Masseti’s excellent vocal prowess, but its awkward placement unnecessarily brings it down. The following “Never Be Like You” tries to patch things up by beginning explosively, but another extended outro—this time in dramatic midtempo—puts a lid on that fire before it could spread. 

Remarkably however, I found that switching the track order of “The Singer in the Arms of Winter” and “Never Be Like You” immediately fixes nearly all pacing issues (the remaining issue being that both tracks could have easily been trimmed a minute or two). As it stands, track 4 “Gone” is a welcome heartfelt breather, but the transition into the drama of “The Singer” is clunky both tonally and pacing-wise. By placing “Never Be Like You” at track 5 instead of 6, the album smoothly regains its momentum. The track opens with a very brief hypnotic, slightly haunting modal guitar motif—somewhere between phrygian and atonal—that gives an unsettling, vaguely Middle-Eastern vibe before unleashing a hellfire riff barrage. Coming off the emotionally charged twin-harmony solo that “Gone” ends with, this transition naturally reintroduces tension and intensity into the album’s narrative structure. Meanwhile, the song’s dramatic mid-tempo outro segues seamlessly into the lumbering, brooding heft of “The Singer”, whose ballad-like outro then glides without “Hindrance” into a gorgeous piano ballad.

But pacing issues are not the only complaint I have about Odds and Ends; Masseti’s vocals seem to have deteriorated ever so slightly since his Daydream XI days, too. He’s still got a majestic, versatile voice, but there’s forcefulness in his delivery that he didn’t need before, sounding noticeably more strained. Compare, for instance, his singing in “Trust-Forged Knife” by Daydream XI to virtually any track on Odds and Ends: on the former, he’s silky smooth for the softer lines and effortlessly majestic when he’s belting, while on Odds and Ends he sounds like he’s pushing his voice beyond its capabilities to impress you, coming off unnecessarily edgy. Furthermore, the compression levels on Odds and Ends border on unpleasant, most notably in the drums, making the record louder than it needs to be—again adding to the edgy masculinity feeling. The production is great otherwise, providing ample room for each instrument, and the riffs are positively crushing—I just wish it all came without the ear fatigue.

Critiques aside, Masseti’s exceptional talent for songcraft shines through many a time on Odds and Ends. “The Pool of Liquid Dreams” might be the shortest metal song on the album, but it’s by far the most densely packed one, going from leads that sound like they could have come out of a Slash record, to pop punk, to intense power metal, to absurdly cool odd-time sections and blistering shred, and back. Similarly, “Against Our Fire” is a rapid prog-power track with especially impressive soloing and it successfully experiments with harsh vocals in the chorus. And while I ragged on their track order, Masseti pulls out all the vocal stops for phenomenal results when “The Singer in the Arms of Winter” reaches its climax, and the vocal multi-tracking in “Never Be Like You” is used creatively. Finally, “Serpents and Whores” and “Heir of the Survivor” are fantastic bookend tracks. The former is a heavy, suspenseful chonker of an opener, while the latter blends melodic beauty with dynamic prog metal, taking clear inspiration from neoclassical Symphony X epics like “The Accolade” or “Through the Looking Glass”. That said, one could argue its opening melodies evoke that particular sound a little too well.

While Odds and Ends may not be exceptional like The Circus of the Tattered and Torn, it’s great to have Masseti back on the prog metal stage. He’s an extremely talented songwriter and performer with a lot of charisma. Much like its name indicates, Odds and Ends plays like a collection of ideas that don’t always coalesce well, but when they do, the results are spectacular. I hope he’ll be able to bless us with his songwriting talents more frequently from here on out; after all, it’d be a shame to let the momentum go to waste.

Recommended tracks: Serpents and Whores, The Pool of Liquid Dreams, Heir of the Survivor
You may also like: Daydream XI, Sacred Outcry, Scardust, Manticora, Witherfall
Final verdict: 7/10

Related links: Spotify | Official Website | Facebook | Instagram | Metal-Archives

Label: Independent

Masseti is:
– Thiago Masseti (vocals, guitars, piano, keyboards)
With guests:
– Thiago Caurio (drums on tracks 1, 3, 4, 6, 8)
– Benhur Lima (bass)
– Bruno Pinheiro Machado (guitar solo on track 2)
– Renato Osório (additional guitars on track 4, 5)
– Marcelo Pereira (guitar solo on track 6)
– Cezar Tortorelli (orchestration on track 2)
– Fábio Caldeira (piano, orchestration on track 7)
– Eduardo Baldo (drums on tracks 2, 5)

The post Review: Masseti – Odds and Ends appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: progressive death metal, doom metal (harsh vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Blood Incantation, Tomb Mold, Esoteric
Country: New York, United States
Release date: 30 May 2025

When I was fourteen—ready to start high school baseball and with aspirations of playing beyond—I totaled my shoulder: my growth plate separated and fractured (colloquially known as Little League shoulder), and I had recurrent biceps tendinitis during recovery. Years of physical therapy didn’t fully fix it, so my baseball career was over just as it was going to truly begin. Seven years ago, while recording Weeping Sore’s debut False Confession, guitarist and vocalist Doug Moore seriously injured his shoulder, leaving him unable to play guitar. Many of his frustrations and pains are easy for me to empathize with, but some of what Moore was feeling I can only imagine. Planning on going to law school after his graduation from an Ivy league, Moore veered paths to become a full time death metal vocalist and guitarist (for Pyrrhon, Seputus, recently Scarcity). Famously a tenuous, financially risky career, pursuing music couldn’t have been an easy choice for Moore. Thus, by losing out on a fundamental asset to his livelihood and passion—the ability to play guitar—Moore’s late nights of shoulder pain must have been filled with potential regrets along with the typical pesky discouragements of recovery. 

Born of six years of work and bestowed with a fitting title, The Convalescence Agonies is Moore’s triumphant yet deliberate return to guitar playing and a sonic diary of his recovery of sorts, written during the excruciating reunion with his guitar. Doom-y riffs lurch forward in tumultuous, lumpy strides, utilizing both shimmering, bright tones (“Empty Vessel Hymn”) and tasteful amplifier feedback (“Pleading for the Scythe”) in equal measure for that sweet juxtaposition between heartaching beauty and pain. Despite the extended time away from his instrument, Moore’s guitar playing would have you believe it’s an extension of his body on The Convalescence Agonies. The mixing and mastering from Chris Grigg and Greg Chandler capture the earthiness of Moore’s guitar tones while the lead guitars absolutely sing when they appear—there is a guitar lead in “Sprawl in the City of Sorrow” that somehow feels as vibrant as a trumpet during the best climax on the album, and the main riff of “Empty Vessel Hymn” is a gilded swing with the most succulent guitar tone on a doom metal record since Worm’s half of the Starpath split. I even hear hints of Schuldiner in Moore’s playing on The Convalescence Agonies.

Delivered through a mix of septic, cavernous gurgles and acerbically vitriolic shrieks, Moore’s imagery in the record’s lyrics—long one of his strongest attributes as a musician and band leader—details chronic pain, as well as the physical and mental transformations that go along with it. Fading in and out of metaphor and bitter dysphemism, Moore gets his point across clearly yet artfully. Together with Steve Schwegler’s drumming, the vocals on The Convalescence Agonies ground the record and help the record effortlessly transition between doom metal to death metal. Swirling and blasty drums and piercing highs announce the arrival of death metal sections like clockwork, with cascading pounding on the drums and vocals from the nadir of Moore’s extensive range heralding the decadently heavy doom metal. 

With a dramatic flair, Weeping Sores incorporate Annie Blythe’s cello into several tracks, adding luxurious texture to the songs. The epic title track features my favorite moment on the record as Blythe imposes herself atop a blackened storm of tremolos, the effect similar to Ne Obliviscaris sans clean vocals. In addition to Blythe’s contributions, Brendon Randall-Myers (Scarcity) guests on nearly every track as a keyboard player for Weeping Sores; his spooky tones contribute to a haunting atmosphere reminiscent of Bedsore’s Dreaming the Strife for Love in their retro progginess. Randall-Myers’ playing is understated, relegated to the background, but it’s essential to The Convalescence Agonies’ atmosphere and mood—he’s sorely missed on “Sprawl in the City of Love,” the lone track without his feature. In fact, the weakest aspect of The Convalescence Agonies is when Weeping Sores plays into unembellished death/doom for extended periods of time. The proggy gothiness from the keys, cellos, and lead solos clandestinely makes itself an indispensable quality for the record.

The Convalescence Agonies is a record of passion. The suffering that inspired it and persisted throughout the writing and recording process is embedded in the album’s DNA. The songs are dark and moody. Yet, an air of triumph overrides the negativity by the LP’s end with the title track’s bombastic symphonic black metal midsection and climax before slinking back down into moody keyboards. Moore pours his heart into this record as he perseveres through chronic pain, and even without regaining full use of his shoulder yet, he has crafted an instant death/doom classic.

Recommended tracks: Empty Vessel Hymn, Sprawl in the City of Sorrow, The Convalescence Agonies
You may also like: Pyrrhon, Dream Unending & Worm, Civerous, Kayo Dot, Seputus, Bedsore, Felgrave, Scarcity
Final verdict: 8/10

Related links: Bandcamp | Spotify | Facebook | Instagram | Metal-Archives

Label: I, Voidhanger Records – Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Website

Weeping Sores is:
– Doug Moore – guitar, bass, vocals
– Steve Schwegler – drums
With guests:
– Annie Blythe – cello (tracks 1, 3, 5)
– Brendon Randall-Myers – keyboards (tracks 1, 2, 4, 5)
– Lev Sloujitel – prepared banjo (track 2)
– Pete Lloyd – additional guitars (track 3)

The post Review: Weeping Sores – The Convalescence Agonies appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: Hyperpop, Progressive Pop (clean vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Poppy, Crystal Castles, Purity Ring, Phantogram, Frosting-era Bent Knee
Country: New York, United States
Release date: 4 April 2025

Sleigh Bells are a band that—in the consciousness of many—belong solidly in the 2010s. The smash hit off their debut album Treats, “Rill Rill”, wasn’t released as a single but was featured in an iPhone commercial, tearing to the top of their most-streamed songs, where it still sits today. But for the past decade and a half, these harbingers of heady hyperpop have continued quietly crafting their own brand of rule-bending rock. Bunky Becky Birthday Boy, the latest full-length album from the duo, is a confident continuation of that progressive spirit, bubbling away just beneath the crust of mainstream pop.

Treats introduced Sleigh Bells’ unique blend of pop and noise rock to the world, wriggling right into the then-nascent hyperpop party. Tracks like “Infinity Guitars” and “A/B Machines” rely heavily on the production style: vocals and drums are clipped and distorted, giving an overall raw, fuzzy feeling. The follow-up album, Reign of Terror, ditches the clipping, opting for a cleaner overall sound, but maintains the same fusion of genres at the core of the previous album. Sleigh Bells‘ four intervening releases have maintained this momentum: the band may not have branched out, but they have definitely refined their core sound to the point of near perfection.

“Bunky Pop”, the lead single off Bunky, is the rousing result of that refinement. It is far and away the catchiest song Sleigh Bells have ever written. A veritable avalanche of hooks, it positively pummels the listener with sweet-and-sour synthesizers; short, snappy, alliterative lyrical lines; pounding programmed percussion; and clean-cut choruses of delicately distorted strings. Multiple key changes, abrupt transitions, and crystal-clear production make “Bunky Pop” the audible equivalent of a Kandinsky: everything is all over the place, but that is far from accidental. Each element has been planted with perfect precision: Alexis Krauss’s clean alto vocals contrast with Derek E. Miller’s New York style, in-your-face talk-singing; the introductory synthesizer melody is repeated multiple times with slight variations in various timbres, getting more distorted and eerie with each repetition, like your friendly local birthday clown slowly transforming into Stephen King’s Pennywise. If there was ever any doubt that Sleigh Bells are the pinnacle of post-pandemic progressive pop, “Bunky” absolutely annihilates that assertion.

The second single, “Wanna Start A Band?”, is only marginally less magnetic. If “Bunky” leans all the way into Sleigh Bells‘ pop sensibilities, “Wanna Start A Band?” dials it back just a touch, exploring moderately more experimental ground with its front-and-centre microtonal synths. The keys also take a lead role in “Hi Someday”, a vaporwave-inspired track on the back half of Bunky. While most of the band’s oeuvre is propelled primarily by percussion, “Hi Someday” is mainly built atop driving, twangy 80s-style synths, not unlike those found on tracks by artists like Carpenter Brut. Sleigh Bells are at their best when they are pushing boundaries (both self-imposed and in general); they are at their least compelling when they fall into their comfort zone of bog-standard pop rock.

Unfortunately, while Bunky opens and closes strongly, it fails to maintain that consistency throughout: the tracks in the middle third of the album are all a bit samey, and therefore fail to be memorable. “This Summer”, “Can I Scream”, and “Badly” are perfectly cromulent pop songs, but they all have that familiar verse-chorus pop structure, one or two big hooks, and not much else. This has a cloying effect, like eating one too many desserts in quick succession; you start to get sick of it. When your album is only thirty-two minutes long, you’ve got to give me more than one course, quickly. One cannot survive on empty calories alone.

The bulk of Bunky is built on bedrock familiar to fans of the band: Krauss’ deft vocals glide effortlessly atop Miller’s pop-rock soundscapes; double-time bass pedalling abruptly stops to give space for a massive bass drop; and layered keys and guitars build a sonic nest that gently carries a whole horde of hooks. The soul of Sleigh Bells is on full display, and never has it been more concrete or thoroughly distilled than on Bunky Becky Birthday Boy.

Recommended tracks: Bunky Pop, Wanna Start A Band?, Hi Someday
You may also like: Black Dresses, Rubblebucket, Tune-Yards, The Weeknd’s Hurry Up Tomorrow for a different kind of progressive pop
Final verdict: 7/10

Related links: Bandcamp | Spotify | Official Website | Facebook | Instagram

Label: Mom + Pop – Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Website

Sleigh Bells is:
– Alexis Krauss (vocals, production)
– Derek E. Miller (bass, percussion, guitar, synthesizer, production, engineering)
With guests:
– Kate Steinberg (touring musician; backing vocals, keyboards)

The post Review: Sleigh Bells – Bunky Becky Birthday Boy appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Art by Chase Stone

Style: Progressive Rock, Alternative Rock (Clean vocals)
Recommended for fans of: The Dear Hunter, Closure in Moscow
Country: United States – New York
Release date: 14 March 2025

If you can indulge in a bit of a trip in a time machine, imagine me in 2005, all of eleven years old, having a few months prior been given a copy of an album from a year previous called “In Keeping Secrets of Silent Earth: 3” by a friend. I’ve heard there’s going to be a new album by this band Coheed and Cambria I’ve only just got into, and I want it desperately. Unfortunately, it has that pesky RIAA Parental sticker on it, and at the time, the local FYE wouldn’t sell it to me. Luckily, an older boy I knew was perfectly willing to buy it for me for an extra $5, so I caved and had them do it. Almost twenty years later Good Apollo I’m Burning Star IV: Volume I: From Fear Through the Eyes of Madness is still my favorite album, and Coheed and Cambria has been my favorite band nearly as long. So for me, nothing is ever as anticipated as a new Coheed release.

Across Coheed’s long career, this focus of the sound is vocalist Claudio Sanchez, who delivers high-voiced earworm melodies over their post-hardcore/emo rock origins. Earlier albums in their career took these ideas and stretched them into progressive behemoths, but in the modern era, Coheed has tended to put more emphasis on streamlined song structure and further focus on chorus hooks. Many people also know that Coheed’s records are backed by a concept, and The Father of Make Believe is the third installment of their current pentology story arc, preceded by Vaxis I and Vaxis II (actual titles truncated for brevity). For the sake of this review, I’m not going to dive much into anything overly concept related (although I could talk forever about it) albeit to say concept fans are going to have lots to love in certain head nods and callbacks to certain past albums. Musically Father immediately improves on its Vaxis predecessors: where Vaxis I suffered a bit from an over reliance on “chorus once more” (or twice more) causing bloat and over repetition, Father remembers to streamline its songs when necessary. Where Vaxis II perhaps fell back too much on the radio-rock and pop feel, causing some sameness, Father is able to tread much different ground throughout its runtime (more on this later), while still succeeding in having that pop-esque quality that has always sat inside Coheed. Where both albums leaned heavily into more synth layers and synth leading, Father is much more guitar driven both in structure and in melodies.

With a now years-long discussion on what genre or type of band Coheed is at this point, Father comes at an interesting time. Since Vaxis I there’s been commentary that some miss the “progressive” elements of Coheed, seemingly stripped away in favor of going for a more pop-oriented sound or delivery. This tends to be vocalised through fixation on song structure, riffs, time signatures, or song length as a measurement for the progressive element of this or any band. No, The Father of Make Believe doesn’t have multiple seven minute songs (it has none!); no, it doesn’t have complete side track sections in songs like “21:13” or the “Willing Wells” do. What it does have is that Coheed DNA that has been there since the inception, which is the ability to dabble in virtually any sound and feel cohesive, to create hooks and melodies at any point in a song, and to create the urge to sing whatever words come out of Claudio’s mouth. The progressive aspect for Coheed tends to be, and really is on Father, that aforementioned ability to go anywhere song to song and not lose the plot.

From “Goodbye, Sunshine” and “Searching for Tomorrow” feeling like Good Apollo Volume I songs with more modern ‘heed production, to “Blind Eye Sonny”’s almost harsh vocal delivery on top of a 2 minute blazing punk pace shoving you into “Play the Poet” — a song which sounds like a Year of the Black Rainbow cousin with its slight industrial feel — and ultimately with “The Continuum IV”’s almost Electric Light Orchestra or Beatles feel, Father treads very disparate ground in its songs but again, feels like it all belongs together. This is a trend seen in Coheed’s discography as a whole: The sounds of Second Stage are different from the sounds on IKSoSE:3, Good Apollo Volume I is different yet again; the trend continues in perpetuity throughout the band’s life. But in the end, Coheed have always benefited most from Claudio’s sense of melody and hook writing. I’ve always personally held a belief that Good Apollo IV Volume I is really a pop-esque album hidden behind a guitar-driven metal or prog rock adjacent delivery (like really, for all the “song structure” people, go look at GAIV song structures outside of the “Willing Wells”, it’s pop), and to me The Father of Make Believe at many times is a modern presentation of the same.

Do I still have some reservations? Sure, I think I still haven’t quite got on to the Cervini production style train; I still feel the drums are a bit squashed and neutered in post for my taste (though the performance, as always is chef’s kiss). It does have a bit of a weak point around “Meri of Mercy” where it briefly falls a little into the more recent Coheed ballad tropes. I do wonder if it gets a bit over arranged at times; and yeah, I wouldn’t mind even more riffs. But I do know this is the most obsessed I’ve personally been with a Coheed record on release since The Afterman series dropped, and I don’t see me dropping it any time soon. One last layer to all this: The Father of Make Believe does seem at times to lyrically hint to the idea of a post Coheed, or at least post-Amory Wars Coheed time. As time has gone on, the veil separating Claudio’s personal life from the story has thinned and grown more transparent, and now Claudio seems to examine in the lyrics the ideas of being seen as the creator of some large universe of story when you are really trying to let yourself be seen, while also hinting at something’s ultimate end. And while that does make me sad, it does remind me that as you age, some things you have to really start to appreciate, like your favorite band releasing an album you immediately grab onto and can’t get enough of, because those things are not guaranteed forever.

Anyways, I’m off to scour through the hidden vinyl track for any clues about the story, until I have my novella from the box set.

Recommended tracks: The Father of Make Believe, Play the Poet, The Continuum II: The Flood, Goodbye, Sunshine
You may also like: Mandroid Echostar, 3
Final verdict: 8/10

Related links: Spotify | Official Website | Facebook | Instagram

Label: Virgin Music Group (distributor) – Official Website

Coheed and Cambria is:
– Claudio Sanchez (vocals, guitars, synths)
– Travis Stever (guitars)
– Zach Cooper (bass)
– Josh Eppard (drums)

The post Review: Coheed and Cambria – The Father of Make Believe appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Artwork by Yann Kempen & Bertrand Lefebvre

Style: Progressive Metal, Djent, Metalcore (harsh vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Between the Buried and Me, Protest the Hero, Animals As Leaders
Country: New York, United States
Release date: 7 March 2025

Is it euphoric for you when Animals As Leaders writes distorted riffs on the low strings like they used to? Does Between the Buried and Me’s Tommy Rogers’ voice give you goosebumps? What about the soaring guitar melodies of Protest the Hero? Do you like the absolute wankiest stuff from Dream Theater? Then go listen to those bands. Fine lines exist between influence, homage, and unbridled derivation. Unfortunately, Frogg’s Eclipse mostly falls into the last category.

Throwing all of those influences—artists that I love—into a blender should produce a filling and thirst quenching superdrink for me. However, being from New York, Frogg seems to take less of a smoothie approach and opts to operate a schizophrenic pizza potluck: a slice from the Dream Theater cheese frisbee, a piece from the BTBAM doughmain, one with a big air bubble (love those) from Protest the Hero’s mozza mass, and so on through some well-known prog pizza pies. You’re rarely tasting all of these at once. Each moment—section to section, song to song, even measure to measure at times—is like taking a bite out of a different piece of this Frankenstein (Froggenstein? Let’s workshop that) dough disc. Crust almighty, is it erratic. The result is an LP that lacks any and all individuality—a haphazard buffet of reheated slices.

But like the totality of an Eclipse, there’s a shining, awe-inspiring solar corona here. “Wake Up” has a few moments of beautiful brilliance, like its happy shred-tastic intro and its gorgeous, pop-infused chorus, which features a clean vocal line sailing on solar winds over the top of a punchy, harmonious metalcore riff. I enjoy the entirety of “Double Vision Roll,” which has some bobbing, rowing guitar grooves, and tasteful solos to boot. Yet, for every enjoyable bite, I have to wash it down with a flat Diet Djent, or contemplate if I should pay attention to yet another overdressed Note Salad—or ask myself why I’m eating stale breadstick transitions when I’m already getting plenty of carbs from the chord calculus crust. These missteps aren’t isolated moments in one song or another, but the entire concept at the Eclipse Pizzeria.¹

If Frogg ever tours in my area, I could see myself doing dinner (pizza, of course) and then their show. I can’t deny that each member is a fantastic musician, and the level of technical skill on display here could be a fun live experience. Sky Clark’s vocals are powerful and simultaneously guttural and raspy—just how I like harsh vocal work. Despite their unrelenting onslaught, guitarists Brett Fairchild and double-duty Sky Clark are fretboard wizards, simultaneously providing most of the cheese. Bass lines from Nick Thorpe² do more than just add weight to make the songs heavy, but can flex some melodic muscle, cut through the mix, and provide more character to a piece (“Sun Stealer,” “Walpurgisnacht”). Driving all of this insanity with steadfast percussive grit is Will Brown—sprinkling on the oregano with a whimsical fill here and there for good measure. Though, a great dine-in experience doesn’t necessarily translate to satisfying takeout.

So, with a few enjoyable songs or moments, impressive musicians, and stark influence from some of the greatest progressive metal bands, why be this down on the album? Maybe I was hoping that, with all of those influences, this Frogg would be taking a leap instead of mostly just sitting pretty on the prog lily pad—tossing the dough repeatedly while trying to come up with a recipe of their own. I wish that Eclipse coalesced into a more satisfying, distinct musical experience, but the more seasoned foodies will probably look elsewhere.

Recommended tracks: “Wake Up,” “Double Vision Roll,” “Walpurgisnacht”
You may also like: Atlantis Chronicles, Interloper, Rototypical
Final verdict: 4/10

Related links: Bandcamp | Spotify | Facebook | Instagram | Metal-Archives

Label: Self-Release

Frogg is:
– Will Brown (drums)
– Sky Moon Clark (vocals & guitar)
– Brett Fairchild (guitar)
– Ethan Emery (bass)

1. I may or may not have been waiting for the delivery of, eaten, and then regretted consuming a pizza while writing this. Apologies. ︎
2. Nick Thorpe is credited as bass player on most of the album’s tracks, but is not in the live/current band line up. ︎

The post Review: Frogg – Eclipse appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

No artist credited

Style: Black Metal, Dissonant Black Metal, Progressive Metal (Harsh vocals with cleans on the last track)
Recommended for fans of: Krallice, Thantifaxath, Celeste
Country: New York, United States
Release date: 15 October 2013

The early 2010s were a volatile and explosive time for black metal, full of experimentation and change. A decade earlier, bands like Blut Aus Nord, Abigor, and Dødheimsgard were planting the seeds of an uglier, more abrasive twist on the genre; not long after that, Deathspell Omega would blow the scene wide open with their infamous trilogy. Since then, countless groups have tried their hands at the style of dissonant black metal laid down by these titans of the genre to wildly varying success. Many bands have come and gone, lost to the wind, with Castevet counted among them—though not for lack of quality. 

Castevet were a modest three-piece outfit consisting of Andrew Hock on guitar and vocal duty, Ian Jacyszyn on the drums, as well as sharing Krallice member Nicholas McMaster on bass. The style of music played by these three certainly follows in the footsteps of the aforementioned titans but takes a subtler approach to the oddities and complexities that are so prevalent in the genre. Krallice is, fittingly, the main point of reference to be heard on Obsian, though with a shimmering, prettier take on their sound, even dabbling in softer ambient pieces like on the title track. Obsian is an album full of technical marvel wrapped up in a vague, melancholic atmosphere; an ever-unfurling organism that refuses to be fully defined.

“The Tower” introduces the primary style found on Obsian: harmonically and rhythmically dense black metal. Instantly recognizable and distinctly memorable is the psychedelic fuzz of the bass tone of McMaster, who spends nearly as much time providing countermelody and even lead melody as he does laying down a foundational groove. The production—courtesy of other Krallice mainstay Colin Marston—is warm and just hazy enough for the instruments to shine while also providing context for the atmosphere created by their performances. Herein lies one piece of the puzzle that makes the sound on Obsian so unique: the performances create just as much of the atmosphere as the production job does. From the jarring chords at 2:20 in “Cavernous” that seem to spill out of the aether, to the assertive bass line that drops down to the tonic during the intro/chorus riff on “The Curve,” Castevet make full use of the context provided to them through the stellar production job. 

As Obsian continues, it patiently reveals more of its unique strengths, most notably an acumen for intricate songwriting. Castevet are less overtly dissonant than their peers, instead choosing to utilize smart composition and performance techniques to achieve the same effect. The guitar and bass will often play similar arpeggios that are just slightly off from one another, giving an organic off-kilter feel. Unique chord voicings and smart chord inversions are littered throughout Obsian’s runtime that, when paired with its stilted rhythms, give the experience a sense of constantly folding in on itself—like an auditory set of penrose steps. More specifically, Castevet have a knack for finding strong melodic lines and recontextualizing them through harmonic interplay, giving the listener an opportunity to approach the same sections of songs from different angles during repeat listens; look no further than opening track “The Tower” or the back half of “The Curve” for examples of this.

Another piece of Obsian’s puzzle is its bold rhythmic flair, especially when coupled with some of the more idiosyncratic instrumentation choices and drum kit orchestration. Castevet weave in and out of time signatures, extend and cut phrases short, and play with subdivisions, always in a way that is still conducive to just sitting back and instinctively nodding your head. “As Fathomed By Beggars and Victims” is perhaps the best example of this rhythmic quirk: a pervasive 9 against 4 polyrhythm being played on the hi-hat gives the song an unsteady gait, and even the foundational groove shifts depending on how you listen to it, with 3/4 and 4/4 time each being equally valid ways of counting. When put together, the result is a sonic illusion that is not unlike a desert mirage, shifting from afar but coming into clarity when given more attention. This same song is also a good example of Jacyszyn’s clever kit orchestration. The drums drive the song forward, giving the relatively stationary guitar performance much more bite than it would have on its own. Jacyszyn is able to fill in droughts of movement from the rest of the band with precisely tuned toms and flowing fills, and the drum performance can largely be listened to as melodically as the guitars. 

What really ties everything together for Obsian, though, are the subtle details that Castevet incorporates into every aspect of the experience. Acoustic guitars accentuate riffs at opportune times (“Cavernous”) that, while not quite folky, make the performance feel more human and easier to attach to emotionally. Castevet knows when to vamp on a good idea (ending of “The Curve”) but always have some sort of subtle variation to keep it interesting, allowing the atmosphere to consume the listener while keeping the music engaging. Phrases often start with familiar riff structures and harmonic voicings, only to devolve into swirling, gestural approximations of these forms in the second half of the same phrase. A question is being posed: what exactly are the most important aspects of these beloved techniques and tropes? What makes them tick? Castevet probes for answers with a delicate touch, achieving and even exceeding the same standard set by classics of the genre, doing more with less.

Just when you think that Castevet have shown all they have to offer, they pull one final trick out of their sleeve with “The Seat of Severance”, starting with one of the most straightforward riffs yet and marking the only time that clean vocals make an appearance. The choice to forgo harsh vocals completely is a brave one in music as harmonically vague as this, and proves that the music on Obsian is not reliant on familiar textures and cliches; instead, rock solid composition is what carries the sound and makes it a standout experience. While Obsian is certainly dense and full of anxiety, it is not quite as dreary or oppressive as its peers, merely introspective. The run time is short, inviting necessary repeat listens while also justifying its experimentation and occasional ambiance. My single critique of Obsian is that I wish there were two or three more songs to flesh out the experience, though this is just because I can’t get enough of the sound crafted on this forgotten relic. As it stands, the listener is left with the same feeling of finishing an exceptional book or television series, where you sit there in silence for ten minutes thinking… What now?

Well… you hit play again.

Recommended tracks: The Tower, The Curve, As Fathomed by Beggars and Victims
You may also like: Scarcity, Flourishing, Yellow Eyes

Related links: Bandcamp | Spotify | Metal-Archives page

Label: Profound Lore Records – Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Website

Castevet is:
– Andrew Hock (guitars, vocals)
– Ian Jacyszyn (drums)
– Nicholas McMaster (bass)

The post Lost in Time: Castevet – Obsian appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: progressive metal, jazz fusion, avant-garde jazz, free jazz, technical death metal (mostly instrumental)
Recommended for fans of: John Coltrane (late era), Weather Report, Imperial Triumphant, John Zorn
Country: New York, United States
Release date: 21 February 2025

Although born out of Western “art music” (i.e. classical and jazz), prog has long shunned a critical aspect of jazz: improvisation. Our favorite bands in the prog and metal scenes are anal with their precise compositions, unwilling to leave a single detail out of their control in an obsessive chasing of perfection. That’s what made the Big Apple’s Sarmat so refreshing when they hit the scene in 2023—although playing something texturally prog metal, the extended live jam session which made up their debut EP Dubious Disk was fully jazz in its improvisational spirit. After a more concentrated, composed tech death release later that year, Sarmat are now back with Upgrade, their second live-in-studio album of improvised fusion metal.

At two tracks and twenty-one minutes, Upgrade is a pocket-sized but powerful statement reaffirming that jazz composition with metal instrumentation can work and should be attempted by more bands. Of course, not all groups have the collective talents of members like Steve Blanco (bass, Imperial Triumphant), Ryan Hale (guitar), and James Jones (drums). That power trio alone present a heroic display on their instruments, contorting modal jazz into a distorted hellscape. Sarmat have other talented collaborators, though, like trumpeters Jerome Burns and Oskar Stenmark, as well as my personal favorite performer on Upgrade, Niko Hasapopoulos on upright bass. The members of this demented jazz collective are clearly all experienced jammers, their playing tight and in sync despite the fluid “compositional” style.

The shorter of the two tracks, “Serum Visions,” is superior to the preceding title track. On “Serum Visions,” Blanco drops his meaty bass for sci-fi synths, allowing for the elegance of the upright bass to clash with the wailing trumpets and power chords, and the synth-laden atmosphere creates a perfect backdrop for Sarmat to spawn their music ex nihilo. “Upgrade” is inferior precisely because of this: it’s less free, more composed. With a long section built around a variation of “Landform” from Determined to Strike (their full-length album), “Upgrade” takes the banger tech death riff and attempts jam variations of it in an unbecoming way. Moreover, Ilya Beklo’s gutturals enter during the last third of the song, making the ending seem completely disjointed from the first two thirds of the track—the vocals sick for a death metal release but more distracting than anything on a proggy release such as this. Their inclusion is frustrating, taking away from the sharp jazz focus and turning to a more Zorn-esque, pretentious eclecticism. The more composed sections suffer next to the organically improvised moments. 

However, what separates Sarmat from the jazz greats of olde is the band’s lack of energy: yes, this group is noisy, benefiting from distortion, but only Jones’ drumming satisfies my craving for the transcendent experience of live free jazz. Upgrade desperately needs more along the lines of his frenetic, chaotic performance. At times, the rest match his intensity—especially Ilya Belko’s haunting screams put through inhuman distortion effects, from there stealthily breaking loose into a dramatic trumpet solo, at 3:40 into “Serum Visions”—but overall, despite the noise, nobody in the group really commands focus. In that sense, Upgrade could benefit from its performers alternating in a roundhouse fashion trading off solos like on Coltrane’s Ascension. Upgrade is too egalitarian with the focus, leading to fewer highlights and not showcasing the performers’ individual excellence. 

Sarmat’s vision is valiant, and Colin Marston’s as-always excellent in-studio production provides the sound with crisp clarity, but the jam doesn’t excite me nearly as much as Dubious Disk did a couple years ago. While the EP isn’t so much an upgrade of Sarmat’s sound, the mission is clear: jazz and metal will collide in improvetory fashion, and Sarmat will lead the charge.

Recommended tracks: Serum Visions
You may also like: Behold the Arctopus, A.M.E.N., Dischordia, Tatsuya Yoshida & Risa Takeda, Electric Masada
Final verdict: 6/10

Related links: Bandcamp | Spotify | Facebook | Instagram

Label: I, Voidhanger – Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Website

James Jones – Drums: Tracks 1 and 2
Steve Blanco – Bass Guitar: Track 1, Keytar: Track 2
Zachary Blakeslee-Reid – Guitar: Track 1
Ryan Hale – Guitar: Track 2
Niko Hasapopoulos – Arm, Upright Bass: Track  2
Oskar Stenmark – Trumpet: Track 1
Jerome Burns – Trumpet: Track 2
Ilya Belko – Vocals : Track 1

The post Review: Sarmat – Upgrade appeared first on The Progressive Subway.