Style:  progressive black metal, electronica, industrial metal, symphonic metal (harsh vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Mechina, Thy Catafalque, Sigh
Country: France
Release date: 1 August 2025

I love when an artist has a philosophical vision that the music matches. The man behind Creatvre, Raphaël Fournier, knows exactly what he wants Toujours Humain (Always Human) to represent: a deep tension between being human and being part of the fast-approaching technological future. In I, Voidhanger’s Bandcamp blurb for the record, Fournier drops some absolutely fire explanations like “It [Toujours Humain] echoes the cries of those no longer heard, fragments of tweets turned into prayers” and “It’s an allegory of self-erasure for individuals, as programmed by those who set the agenda… The shame of still being biological.” A bit pretentious? Absolutely. But the description is undoubtedly poetic, and Toujours Humain definitely walks the walk.

As a writer at a blog of luddites, I am naturally drawn far more to the side of Creatvre that looks toward the past and not the imminent technocratic future. The project’s 2020 record, Ex Cathedra, is brilliant Baroque-inspired black metal with flute and real strings; in 2025, the Baroque aspect of Creatvre’s sound is wrapped into synthwave à la Keygen Church, the only remnants of non-electronic instruments being sax and trumpet in tracks like “R+X,” “Diffimation,” and “Shaïna.” Toujours Humain successfully distorts their classical compositional style rooted in human tradition into an industrial, synthesized album that sounds like it could be from the future.

Synths and synthesized choirs, off-kilter electronic beats, and industrial metal barking harshes lay down the foundation for Toujours Humain and its view of technology. Atop that base, Creatvre creatively branches out in a couple ways: the aforementioned Baroque influence in impressive counterpoint (“Hope Inc.”, “Chant des Limbes”), dancey industrial beats under trem picking (“Plus Humain”), vocoder (“Plus Humain”) and dynamic synthwave (“Toujours en Bas,” “Diffamation”). Fournier also explores several compositional assets that don’t work in his favor, like the constant industrial sections focused on rhythm much more than melody, the latter of which is Creatvre’s strong suit. Some tracks rely too much on those industrial cliches, too, leading them to be completely forgettable on the tracklist (“R+X” aside from its trumpet part, “810-M4SS”). Fournier’s vocals are also one-note, staying entirely within a small span of mid-range harsh growls, with an odd whispered quality from multilayering, that feel out of place compared to the often exploratory and dynamic music on Toujours Humain. 

Exacerbating the middling industrial metal sections is a loud, fittingly over-produced sound. The strong guitar leads on “Syntropie” and “Chant des Limbes” get buried in a dozen different synth tones, which bleep, bloop, arpeggio, and provide a fat bottom end to the sound. No room is left for breathing in the mix—not that our cyborg counterparts will need air—in favor of a full, epic sound. The choral moments are the only ones that benefit from the loud mix, as they achieve a bombastic score-like quality, similar to Neurotech. The rare moments where fewer elements are moving around the sonic space in parallel are clearly where Creatvre excels; for instance, at 1:12 in “Hope Inc.”, Fournier isolates the main lead guitar with a single synth line to go into the Baroque-infused main melody in the “chorus” of sorts. The track also has a much more energetic swing than much of the rest of the album, mostly avoiding the industrial slog. 

Fournier gets his point across on Toujours Humain that man and machine are on an imminent collision course with his blend of old and new, but I hope that he rediscovers his more human composition because my still-unchipped brain prefers the symphonic black metal of Ex Cathedra over the industrial synthiness of Toujours Humain. Or, perhaps, I’m just too slow at evolving to fit the new technology and will be left behind as an embarrassing remnant of what our species was, fleshy and reliant on oxygen.

Recommended tracks: Hope Inc., Chant des Limbes, Diffamation
You may also like: Grey Aura, Neurotech, Keygen Church, Les Chants du Hasard
Final verdict: 6/10

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

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

Creatvre is:
– Raphaël Fournier (voice, guitars, bass, synths, drums, trombones, trumpet, saxophone)
With guests:
– Ombre Ecarlate (additional composition)
– Cédric Sebastian (additional vocals on tracks 6-7)

The post Review: Creatvre – Toujours Humain appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: symphonic metal, heavy metal, Byzantine chant (clean vocals, choral)
Recommended for fans of: Batushka, Rotting Christ, Therion, Haggard
Country: Greece
Release date: 6 July 2025

Monastic monophonic chant gets me going: the style of religious music is utterly sublime. After the Great Schism in 1054, the Church split into Catholicism and Eastern Orthodoxy, and both sects developed their own unique—but overlapping—chant. As a (unfortunately) confirmed Catholic, I had to choose a confirmation name, so naturally, I went with Gregory after my adoration of Gregorian chant. But back to the Byzantine side: the musical and cultural differences of the liturgical style are clearly due to Ottoman influences coming from the East. Rather than evenly tempered Catholic modes, the Byzantine monks used a complex set of eight modes called echoi with microtonal intervals, the vocalists relying on melismas (slides between notes) in opposition to the Catholic monks who stick to full jumps between intervals.

This miniature history/music theory lesson should help frame Greek heavy metaler Δynamis’ debut album Byzantine Metal. The record, as the title so helpfully tells us, merges traditional Byzantine chant with metal. For a debut in a largely untapped realm—Batushka are the only obvious forebear—Byzantine Metal is a successful exploration of the intersection between Orthodoxy and metal. The lyrics are from actual hymns, and the majority of the music is sung in Greek with sing-along choruses in English. The clear highlight chorus is that of “Cherubic Hymn,” the lyrics all about celebrating Hellenic identity.

Vocally, Δynamis fill Byzantine Metal to the brim with wonderful monophonic choral lines provided by a full men’s choir of five, and their melismatic ornamentations to the vocal lines are immediate starting from opener “Kyrie Ekekraxa (Psalm 140).” Naturally, choirs fit in well with the epic vibes metal curates, but the ways in which Δynamis bring the traditional Byzantine chant into something modern and fit for the heavy metal ear is brilliant. The highlight performance on the album is from guest vocalist Billy Vass (on tracks “Kyrie Ekekraxa (Psalm 140),” “Kyrie Eleison,” and “Cherubic Hymn”) whose tone is superb for heavy metal, somewhere in between Tobias Sammet (Avantasia) and Daniel Heiman (Sacred Outcry). But his technique is the highlight, as he perfectly imitates the single melodic line of the choirs underneath him but with the bold, solo singing voice of metal. 

Beyond the strong Hellenic vocals, Δynamis keep the instrumentals high stakes epic with a variety of orchestration and shreddy guitar solos. They follow in the track’s distinct modes and accompany the clean vocal lines exceptionally well at some points (chorus of “Polyeleos (Psalm 135),” intro “Alosis 1453 (Psalm 78)”). When not riffing underneath a chorus, guitarist Bob Katsionis often works in conjunction with the Greek choral quintet to create wonderful buildups—the buildup into the English chorus with Vass in “Kyrie Eleison,” for instance, is one of the most hype and epic buildups I’ve heard this year despite the track’s brevity. However, most of the actual “riffs” on Byzantine Metal are plodding and uninspired, mostly power chords at a lollygagging pace. Of course, the guitars are certainly not Δynamis’ main point of interest, but hearing flashes of their melodic brilliance during most of Byzantine Metal makes the remainder seem disappointing. Having the guitars mostly be relegated to a mildly distorted texture so that the chanting sections remain “metal” is bland songwriting.

A brief aside into music theory-lite again: In opposition to the plainsong style of Gregorian chant which relies on improvised harmonization, Byzantine chant is highly structured although still freeflowing in rhythm and ornamentation. Unfortunately, Δynamis missed this memo as the band aimlessly hop section to section with little sense of cohesive flow. Byzantine Metal drifts through a string of bombastic, often ingenious ideas, but Δynamis easily lose the plot, and often I found a song blowing right by without me noticing much of what happened beyond “wow these are sick chants.”

Byzantine Metal is a history and music theory lesson along with a (in-theory) rad Hellenic heavy metal album all at once, and Δynamis showed off their love for Eastern Orthodox traditions to a whole new audience. With more emphasis on bringing Eastern melody into the guitar rather than relying on drab power chords—while possibly enlisting Vass as a full-time band member—Δynamis may become a powerful force in the powerful Greek metal scene. They’re already a unique one.

Recommended tracks: Kyrie Ekekraxa (Psalm 140), Kyrie Eleison, Alosis 1453 (Psalm 78), Cherubic Hymn
You may also like: Sacred Outcry, Ensemble Sreteniye, Epta Astera, Tim Donahue
Final verdict: 6.5/10

Related links: Bandcamp | Facebook

Label: independent

Δynamis is:
– Christopher Laskos: (Vocals/Choir, Keyboards, Choir Conducting)
-Bob Katsionis (Guitars/Bass/Keyboards/Drums)
With guests:
– Dimitrios Balageorgos, Athanasios Glaros, Lazaros Koumentakis, Stefanos Koumentakis, Christopher Laskos (choir of chanters)
– Billy Vass (Lead Vocals on tracks 1, 3, 8)
-Kyriakos GP (Guitar solo on track 8)

The post Review: Δynamis – Byzantine Metal appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: Symphonic metal, progressive metal (mixed vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Nightwish, Epica, Orphaned Land, Myrath, Dream Theater, Symphony X
Country: Israel
Release date: 18 July 2025

Symphonic metal takes up a lot of space. I mean that as a compliment: the genre is aurally packed wall-to-wall with sweeping orchestras, grand choral arrangements, and shredding, heavy riffs. Sure, it can be campy, corny, overwrought—but for those who like their music larger than life, symphonic metal just hits different. I fell for it hard as a tween, when I nurtured a severe Nightwish obsession that gradually bloomed into an appreciation for the genre as a whole. Years later, in 2017, I stumbled across Sands of Time, the debut full-length album by Israeli five-piece Scardust. The band’s audacious reimagination of the symphonic metal playbook earned them a spot in my rotation that has endured to this day.

Unlike scores of bands who take the approach of copying Nightwish or Epica’s homework and changing a few details so they don’t get caught (or not), Scardust have an unmistakable trademark sound. They take pride in the technical skill of each band member, weaving ample showmanship into Mediterranean-and Middle Eastern-influenced compositions that often nestle bass or guitar solos alongside sprawling orchestral and choral arrangements which are—for my money—more thoughtfully and creatively architected than most in the genre. Scardust’s ambition has never dipped, but can their third album, Souls, keep up the momentum?

Um, maybe a bit too much. Scardust’s previous albums each opened with instrumental and choral overtures that elegantly set the stage for what was to come. By contrast, the number of different musicians introduced in the opening minutes of Souls makes me think of kids on a school trip, rushing to take a group photo before they get back on the bus. The orchestra and the magniloquent Hellscore choir—directed by Scardust frontwoman Noa Gruman—are there, as expected, but the rest of the band muscles in quickly, squeezing in bass and guitar solos in under four and a half minutes. And, soaring over it all is Gruman herself, with dizzyingly acrobatic vocal manoeuvres coloured by a timbre so polished that it almost seems shellacked. It’s all happening, all at once, and the momentum doesn’t let up. By the time Souls’ third track, “RIP”, rips out of the gates with Gruman growling over frenetic backing from the band and choir, I wish the whole ensemble would simply stop and take a deep breath. Mercifully, they do. Softer interludes on this track and scattered across the album’s forty-minute runtime bring relief, but Scardust never stop giving a hundred and fifty percent.

At the heart of Scardust’s unstoppable force is Noa Gruman, whose skill as a vocalist is unquestionably dazzling. Her range spans many octaves and styles—from whistle register to growls. In particular, her harsh vocals have improved significantly since the band’s earlier albums. They’re crisp, ferocious, and impressively enunciated. However, there’s one critical lesson that Gruman appears to have not yet learned, and it’s that less is sometimes more. Just because you can hit a laser-precise E♭6, growl like a bog monster, and belt like Floor Jansen, doesn’t mean you should do all of those things in a single breath (as at the end of “My Haven”). Moments of restraint could allow her remarkable technique to feel more emotionally resonant, and give the listener space to breathe. A true frontwoman, Gruman clearly commands the spotlight, but the other band members revel in their moments of explosive flair, whether it’s Yoav Weinberg’s thrillingly athletic drumming in “Long Forgotten Song” or Aaron Friedland’s zingy keys in the opening of “Touch Of Life III – King Of Insanity”.

In Souls’ already crowded milieu, the album’s guest contributors have their work cut out for them to find space. Ally Storch of Subway to Sally adds some impressive violin gymnastics to “Searing Echoes”, but her interludes feel pasted in rather than smoothly integrated, a shame on an already bloated track. Meanwhile, Haken’s Ross Jennings struggles to go toe-to-toe with Gruman in the three-part “Touch of Life” suite that closes the album. Gruman’s vocals demand a similarly bombastic duet partner¹, but Jennings’ unique vocal tone makes for a rather lopsided pairing. Later in the suite, when he sings solo, the effect improves considerably.

Scardust’s energy and intensity are higher than ever. But is it too much? My main gripe with Souls is that the band appears to have taken a formula that was already a lot and pushed forward in places where I want them to pull back. I don’t need them to get the jump on every big moment before I expect it, to dial everything up to eleven. Still, Souls sometimes captures that mesmerizing momentum from past albums without collapsing under its own ambition. “Dazzling Darkness” builds with refreshing subtlety, and closer “Touch of Life III – King of Insanity” cleverly reprises motifs from 2017’s Sands of Time. Both tracks’ scurrying melodic modulations showcase the band at their irrepressibly catchy best.

You’ll always know a Scardust song when you hear one. In the oversaturated symphonic metal landscape, originality and daring ambition count for a lot. But Souls sees the group leaning further into maximalist tendencies which tread a fine line between awe-inspiring and overwhelming. I don’t expect Scardust to ever rein themselves in. But next time, I hope they’ll trust that giving it a hundred percent is already enough.

Recommended tracks: Dazzling Darkness, Touch Of Life III – King Of Insanity
You may also like: Master Sword, Delta
Final verdict: 6/10

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

Label: Frontiers Music – Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Website

Scardust is:
– Noa Gruman (vocals)
– Gal Gabriel Israel (guitar)
– Aaron Friedland (keyboards)
– Orr Didi (bass)
– Yoav Weinberg (drums)
With guests:
– TLV Orchestra
– Ally Storch (violin)
– Ross Jennings (vocals)

1.  For example, Orphaned Land vocalist Kobi Farhi paired well with Gruman in his guest appearance on Sands of Time. ︎

The post Review: Scardust – Souls appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

(No artist noted; please let us know!)

Style: Progressive metal, power metal, symphonic metal (mixed vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Dream Theater, Diablo Swing Orchestra, Angra, Kamelot, Haken, Seven Spires, Seventh Wonder
Country: Brazil
Release date: 2 May 2025

Today, dear reader, we heed the eternal call that plagues every band known to man. The ever-present lore, the esoteric call that populates artist comment sections across the internet. The eternal convocation: “VENHA AO BRASIL”. Yes, today we are looking at a Brazilian act, Maestrick from São Paulo, and their album Espresso della vita: Lunare, part two of a concept album about a day-long train ride as a metaphor for life’s journey to death, and a nocturnal counterpart to their 2018 release Solare. It’s an ambitious progressive metal work that incorporates swing, symphonic power metal, and Brazilian musical conventions alongside heavy staccato riffing and velvety-soft vocals to create a high-octane experience. 

Maestrick excel most in the heavy swing/cabaret influence highlighted on the early part of the album. Tracks like “Upside Down”, “Ghost Casino”, and “Mad Witches” hearken back to early Diablo Swing Orchestra: heavy, grooving riffage punctuated by swing and jazz-influenced horn and piano sections that make you want to tap your feet and snap your fingers to the beat in a smoky room with a cigar in your mouth and two fingers of whisky in your glass. Additionally, the song “Agbara” features prominent Afro-Brazilian rhythmic cadences with lyrics in Portuguese—another excellent inclusion. I love hearing regional music in metal, and they blend it perfectly well with their heavy progressive metal style. It reminds me a little of the way Angra’s “Caveman” incorporated similar elements on their 2018 album Ømni. Unfortunately, the swing and traditional Brazilian influences are all but abandoned by the end of the album, where Lunare plays out with more symphonic, melodic progressive metal standards. 

Many of the compositions on Lunare feature a strong late-Dream Theater impact with a lot of twisty-turny Phrygian-dominant riffs present on “The Root” and “The Last Station (I A.M. Leaving)” and downtuned 7-string passages (“Boo!”). Add in a bit of that ‘modern metal’ affectation on songs like “Lunar Vortex” and “Agbara”—imagine Haken, Voyager, and that type of djent-approximate start-stop staccato riffing—and you’ve got a recipe that modern progressive metal lovers will find familiar yet compelling. Moreover, clear symphonic metal influence features on nearly the entire album, with grandiose compositions that echo film score epics, adding a lot of texture to the sound. Particularly captivating is the middle of “The Root”, where background strings heighten tensions before the guitar solo—and the end of the same track, where violin arpeggios over staccato riffing transition into a grand orchestral sequence that ends abruptly with heavy guitar. Skilfully written, and masterfully executed. 

Despite several strong points to Lunare, there are more than a few instances where Maestrick divert away from the energetic compositional style and into a more subdued emotional one, often at the expense of the album’s pacing. Soft piano and reverberant string arrangements characterize “Sunflower Eyes”, “Dance of Hadassah”, and the second half of “Mad Witches”. On “The Last Station” (the album’s epic, with a runtime of eighteen minutes), strummed acoustic guitar introduces the piece, which ebbs and flows in several movements from a soft rock ballad into a distinctly progressive metal heavy-hitter of a track, before transitioning into another very showy, symphonic outro. This consistent back-and-forth from heavy to soft and back again, even within the same song, I find to be a bit disengaging. Although I understand the need for differentiation within an album, it starts to feel a little repetitive when every other track incorporates some type of slow sentimental piece.

In spite of all that, Maestrick are obviously competent musicians and put out a very strong work with this ostentatious release that features symphonic elements, regional touches, and swing/jazz influence. Indeed, Espresso Della Vita: Lunare features all the nuance of its namesake drink, and much of the power—but sometimes stumbles into more watered-down territory with an overabundance of melodrama in its emotional ballads. These slower passages can bring you crashing down to Earth like a naloxone nasal spray when you’re carefree and flying high on the effects of progressive metal ambrosia. The album’s a fun ride, but a long one. Better brew another pot.

Recommended tracks: “Upside Down”, “Boo!”, “Lunar Vortex”
You may also like: Mindflow, Noveria, Almah, Immortal Guardian, Vougan, Everon
Final verdict: 7.5/10

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

Label: Frontiers Music Srl – Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Website

Maestrick is:
– Fábio Caldeira – (lead vocal, piano, synths and orchestrations)
– Guilherme Carvalho – (guitars, backing vocals)
– Renato “Montanha” Somera – (bass, backing vocals)
– Heitor Matos – (drums and percussion, backing vocals)

The post Review: Maestrick – Espresso Della Vita: Lunare appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Art by Ai-lan Metzger

Style: Symphonic death metal, progressive death metal (mixed vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Fleshgod Apocalypse, Gorgon, Haggard, Septicflesh
Country: Switzerland
Release date: 14 March, 2025

My girlfriend and I, as two creative people, are in staunch agreement on why most creatives don’t make it. Hell, it can even be extended to a reason why most people don’t make it: self-reflection. Creating and releasing a piece of music is bearing a piece of your soul to the world, and in the age of the internet, it’s swimming along with all ten-trillion other minnows in the same pond. The internet is ruthless when it comes to criticism, and it can drive a lot of artists to feel that their work isn’t the problem, but themselves. How could you not? To have something you’ve worked so hard on be torn to shreds can’t be easy, hence why if I find a band with actual talent, I express disappointment rather than disgust.

I’ve rarely thought of the symphonic swirls and meat-headed riffing of Kerberos. My review of their incredibly mediocre debut, Of Dismay and Mayhem, wasn’t one I’m especially proud of, nor did the album provide a very memorable experience overall. But like every mildly talented band who make mediocre albums, I give them a challenge at the end of my review. I expected more from Kerberos, especially with an actual choir and obvious classical composition experience under their belt. So, like the arbiter of music that I am, I threw my mediocre score in their faces, looked down from my throne with an expression of mild pity, and asked them to try harder. Never did I expect them to actually follow up with an improvement.  

Kerberos took that Dismay review personally. Not by sending us piles of hate mail or threatening to blow up our secret underwater headquarters, but by possibly not paying attention to my review at all, and getting their asses to work. I’m going to give praise where praise is due, with the first bit of it focused on clean vocalist Ai-lan Metzger. I was incredibly critical of her cleans on Of Dismay and Mayhem, and rightfully so. Hearing her operatically harmonize with harsh vocals in ‘Near-Violence Experience’ made me do a double take. Instead of crashing into the song as she did last time around, she gracefully weaves her way through string-quartet accented riffs. The contrast between seventh string chugs, vocal acrobatics between her and bassist/guitarist Felicien Burkhard, and all the grandeur that their debut was missing was enough to make me sit my ass down and hear Kerberos out for the rest of this unfortunately brief EP.

Apostle is a mere 25 minutes long, half the length of its predecessor and all the better for it. It’s much better to be left wanting more than wanting the record to be over. With only two songs over 5  minutes, the EP blows past in a flurry of furious riffing and graceful symphonics. There’s less “paint-by-numbers” songwriting than there was on the debut, and by making things a bit more adventurous and prog-leaning this time around, it helps the case that Kerberos have genuinely improved as a band. The neoclassical elements, like in intro track ‘Praeludium in H Moli’, speak volumes in the band’s newfound sense of identity. The band as a whole seem more confident, having a clear vision of what they want the album to sound like, rather than trying to jam symphonic elements where they shouldn’t be.

‘Alpine Sea’ adds an even larger layer of neoclassical elements. Beginning with thundering drums over recorder and strings, the band brings in their “Kerberos Choir”, conducted by Burkhard himself. Once again, the contrast between Metzger’s far-improved cleans and all-male choir accents makes this band unrecognizable from their debut. It’s not just the vocals that are improved this time around either. Burkhard’s wizardry with a fretless bass is on full display here, heard with the insane, Obscura-esque shredding on ‘Near-Violence Experience’, but he knows when to let the rest of the band speak for themselves. He adds a slight Chuck Schuldiner spin to his performance.

 There are a lot of layers on Apostle to the Malevolent, and while I love to see them all on full display, there’s still one major roadblock Kerberos continues to face on their musical journey: the production. The mastering of this record is lacking, though there are improvements from the debut. I’m kind of shocked that this is the same producer behind Virvum’s Illuminance, as that’s one of the few tech-death albums that averts the plastic-y, overproduced sound commonly found in the genre. The drums and guitar are way too thin, and when the band get their dramatics going, they tend to get lost within the busy mix. The guitar tone is muddy, and only tends to clear up when the whole band is present. However, I’ll give credit where credit’s due—the bass is ever-present, and I can hear Burkhard’s noodling most of the time.

Productional quibbles aside, Kerberos‘ improvement on Apostle to the Malevolent is not something I expected on my 2025 bingo card, but it’s certainly a welcome inclusion. Through a contrast in vocal acrobatics and riffage along with a tasteful layering of virtuosic performances, the band has taken several measures to improve their sound. Though the production is still a little rough to the point of detriment and Apostle is too short to really sink into its ideas, Kerberos‘ new direction has me eager to see how they expand on and evolve their new-and-improved sound.

Recommended tracks: Near-Violence Experience, Alpine Sea
You may also like: Sentire
Final verdict: 6.5/10

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

Label: Independent

Kerberos is:
– Felicien Burkard (Guitars, bass, vocals)
– Nicolas Kaser (Drums)
– Ai-lan Metzger (Vocals)

– Diego Lanzendorfer (Guitars)

The post Review: Kerberos – Apostle to the Malevolent appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

It’s worth noting that this was more conversational than the interviews we’ve done in the past. As such, I will do my very best to translate our conversation into questions and answers. If anything gets lost in translation, Alex has my email to send hate mail to.

Hey Alex! Keys to the Palace comes out next week. How are you feeling on the record’s release?

Good, man! It’s kinda trippy, like the music is quite old. I wrote this stuff when I first moved to Arizona, which was ten years ago. So, the fact that it’s coming out now is kinda relieving, I’d say.

I’m sure it is. How’d you know what to keep rolling with these past ten years?

With these songs specifically? I would say it’s the first material where it feels like I’m offering something unique. Everything before this album, when I was writing in high school, was much more…just any band I was in love with at the time. The stuff I write would sound like them. With Keys to the Palace, I felt like I was stumbling upon something original sounding. I never doubted that it was going to come out one day. Initially, I’d planned for it to come out before Aria, before Shadow Burn was even a thing. You know? Life just happens and things change. When I finished Aria I said, “OK, time to finally record this album.” I’m always writing music all the time. So, if I love something, I always plan on releasing it. There are songs that are just as old that I want to put on an album one day. Not so much cutting stuff, just preserving it and waiting until the time is right.

I’ve had Keys to the Palace for a few months now, the day ‘Dover Hendrix’ came out, and I was taken aback at how different it sounded. It had a completely different sound to Aria and Shadow Burn, and a lot cheerier. I remember you saying something about “summertime metal” or something like that—

Summertime soul metal.

Yeah! Why the sudden change?

It’s funny to talk about, with the music being older than both the last two releases. So, I just have to think about what I was listening to at the time. I was coming off a two-year binge of everything Devin Townsend. Strapping Young Lad and all of his solo stuff I was obsessed with. Really, the only other artist I’ve been like that with is Opeth, which is more in Aria. I never got too into the instrumental djent thing, but I remember being in love with a project called Chimp Spanner. I liked Cloudkicker at the time, Animals as Leaders, Joy of Motion came out and just blew my mind. It was a lot of the stuff that was a little bit brighter sounding stuff I was listening to. I was also channeling a lot of my older melodeath influences, Children of Bodom, Wintersun and Ensiferum. It’s kind of a mix of all that more triumphant sound.

The first thing I noticed was Keys is more maximalist than Aria and Shadow Burn, to the point where I was almost waiting for those slower sections to kick in. While the songs do have those, I feel that everything is firing off at all cylinders.

More explosive.

Way more explosive! I find the Strapping Young Lad comparisons interesting, because while this record is cheery, I find that it’s got a lot of your heaviest riffing.

Yeah! Groove wise and everything, it’s less of the last two albums, which was embracing my love of black metal, shoegaze and creating a schmear of sound. This one’s more riffy. More of a riff-fest, I think.

How’d you balance those heavy riffs and cheery atmosphere?

I guess that’s where Devin Townsned’s always been such a huge influence on me. His sense of harmony isn’t what you typically associate with death metal, at all. He always says he feels like Enya mixed with metal, and I’ve always been inspired by that. Ultimately, I don’t relate much to evil sounding metal harmony. I like some of it, but the first thing I loved about death metal, and hearing ‘Hammer Smashed Face’ for the first time was the rhythms. Just how heavy it is, the parts that make you want to windmill. I love that aspect of metal but when I’m talking harmony, I’m inspired by stuff that doesn’t have to do with metal at all. It’s just marrying the two together.

What about non-metal influences on Dessiderium?

Video game soundtracks. I could never say that enough, always a huge influence. Legend of Zelda soundtrack, Final Fantasy, Xenogears, all this stuff.

I hear a lot of Nobuo Uematsu.

Yeah, I love a lot of his soundtracks, all of it’s huge. I love a lot of soul and R&B type music; I’m not like a collector of albums but all the Spotify playlists I listen to are all that stuff. I’m very into rich harmonies that come from that whole world. More romantic sounding stuff, really.

Shadow Burn and Aria are very much channeling that evil sound. I guess that style of songwriting lends itself to a build-up and release approach, but there’s not much of that on Keys to the Palace. There’s a whole lot of “go”. Did those soul and R&B rhythm influences bleed into the riff-writing process?

I’d say more so that style influences the sense of harmonies and chord progressions that I build. The vocal harmonies, and that kind of thing. There’s way more clean singing on this album, and it comes from the fact that I love singing along to that kind of music in my car, and I wanted to do more of that. I felt like this music called for more singing in general, because it’s not as sinister sounding. I like harsh vocals, but there’s a lot more room to be creative with singing for this album.

One of the big things I noticed was that your clean vocals seem to be projected a lot more on this album, as opposed to those last two where they sort of blend into the background. Even the production sounds less murky, hazy, black metal-y. Was that you sort of stumbling around trying to figure something new out?

That’s a good question! I’m not going to say the production was against my will, because that’s not the case. I’m kind of a noob when it comes to audio production. The guy who mixed and mastered it, Mendel, did the last two albums, and I’ve learned to trust his process and what he pictures for it. When he sent the first mix, though, it felt too “in my face” in a way. I’m used to having the singing more blended, but when I showed a bunch of friends they said the style of singing calls for it to be in front of the mix. That’s taken me a lot to get used to, because I’m not that confident of a singer. I sometimes think it could’ve been more blended at times, but overall I’m happy that it’s a different sound, rather than just repeating what we did with the last two.

You still used Brody Smith as a drum programmer. I’m not sure if you write the drums and send them to him, or if he writes and programs them for you.

I have ideas of how I want the drums to sound. So, I send him a rough track, and then he goes crazy with it, and I tell him what I want to keep or what he can go farther with.

So, why programmed drums?

The project is such a “bedroom project”, I haven’t had many opportunities to take it on the road. There’s not a lot of return financially for it, so I value the fact that we can do something budget-friendly. Honestly, I hate giving this as an excuse, but a lot of bands will just resample their drums, even when they do perform them live in the studio. So, to have that option to work with someone like Brody who can make it sound as if—he confuses a lot of people, a lot of people don’t even think they’re programmed.

I didn’t know. I had no idea initially.

That’s a luxury of today’s tech that I take advantage of. For the next album, we’re talking about him playing live drums. Because there’s something special about that too, of course. It’s just been convenience, really.

Despite you saying that it’s a bedroom project, you now have a live band. How was that whole process of figuring out these humongous songs live?

I had to find people who I knew could play them! Everything we’ve done has been with a different drummer. Jay, who plays bass, was going to fill in for Arkaik, but that never happened. I knew he was an amazing bass player, so I remembered him. I discovered his brother, Ben, from Instagram. I was like, “Dude, is that your brother? He shreds really hard!” The guy who I share harsh vocals with, his name is Cameron, and him and I have been doing a project for ten years now called Nullingroots, and he’s had a project called Light Dweller. He’s really showcasing how crazy of a vocalist he is.

You’ve got Nullingroots, Arkaik, and a ton of other projects. Did any of those outside influences bleed into the album in a way?

No, just because I’ve been doing Dessiderium for so much longer. That’s my heart and soul, and with Arkaik and Nullingroots it’s been joining a band and trying to fit my way into that sound. I’m playing in Atheist now, too, so that’s got a whole legacy behind it that I’m trying to fit into. But Dessiderium is me in my most musical, pure form.

You’ve been talking about re-releasing your debut album, Life was a Blur for a while now. Tell me about that.

Yeah, I hate how that album sounds. It’s a constant reminder that I didn’t know what I was doing back then, but I still like the music. It’s not music I’d write anymore, but I have a lot of nostalgia with those songs. I just want them to exist where people can actually enjoy listening to them, because the music’s pretty cool. I started that back when COVID hit and quarantine was happening, and I thought it’d be a nice little project, but then I started writing Shadow Burn and that took all my energy. It’s almost done! I just need to redo vocals for it, maybe have Brody redo the drums. There’s just so much other stuff happening that it’s easy to put on the backburner. I do plan on releasing it one day.

Not sure if you know them, Lykathea Aflame?

Yeah!

They’re one of the only death metal bands I’ve heard that use major scale riffing, and one of the things I noted in my review of Aria was there was a lot of major scale stuff in that album. There’s even more in Keys. Can you talk a little bit about going against the conventional metal riff-writing vein and how that fits into writing death metal songs?

Keys to the Palace is almost entirely in major key, the entire time. I think that major key has a stereotype of sounding happy, and I think that’s an insult because harmony’s way more complex than that! To me, writing emotional stuff in a major key creates that bittersweet feeling, which is my favorite feeling to capture in music. You can do that in minor, of course, but I feel that harmony in major key is really beautiful. Especially practicing some dissonance in that too. It’s that weird distortion of happy feelings that I’m attracted to.

There’s a lot of dissonance on Keys, and I really don’t understand how you make major key sound so heavy, but I guess that’s just the magic of it.

It’s not something I’ve thought too much about. I have my metal influences, and they can come through rhythmically and groove-wise, and dissonance wise even. But you apply that to a major key and it’s got a foreign feel for metal music.

You’ve been very outspoken about Opeth, and how much you love them. There’s a lot of Opeth influence on the older music, but there’s basically none on the new album. It seems that you, more or less, took the reins and went in blind. A lot of the prog-death stuff takes Opeth as the holy grail for a reason, but aside from the song lengths, I didn’t find Keys to sound like Opeth at all. What changed in the formula to make it sound a little less Opeth?

I have to remember, I’m writing a lot of this stuff back in 2014. Wintersun, one of my favorite bands, had just put out Time I. I think it came out in 2012? Hearing the three songs on that album, these massive epic songs. Especially track two, ‘Suns of Winter and Stars’, just like an epic multi-movement song. Still riffs super hard, without being in the Opeth way of repeating a chord progression for a while—which I love—but that inspired me and compounded with my love for old prog rock. That can be very riffy as well, but hearing those power metal riffs in the context of these almost fifteen minute songs…I think I’d be lying if I said that album wasn’t a part of my DNA when writing Keys.

It’s been fifteen years since you started Dessiderium. What has changed as far as going from that first demo tape you released—that I had to scour the internet for—

Is it there somewhere?

It’s on Youtube, if you wanna go find it.

No thanks.

How has the music evolved since that first demo and full-length to now?

When that demo came out, I actually had a live lineup at the time. I was obsessed with the idea of making a band out of it, touring, doing all the band things. It never really panned out the way I wanted it to. Also, a huge thing is I finally finished the first album, and I saw a few people commenting on it, even people who like it said I needed to find a mixing engineer. Suddenly, I went “Oh my god, I’m hearing it with their ears”, and I was disappointed by how it came out. It was right when I finished high school and I was going to university right after, so I stepped away from music for a little bit. I tuned in to other things in life. I was such a hermit with music in high school, and I missed a lot of experiences. So, I was trying to make up for that in college. But I ended up writing a shit-ton of music all throughout college. When I finished, I had to get back into it. Joining Arkaik also thrust me back into it, playing music, and learning from how those guys recorded, I applied it to my own music and made a good sounding album.

With the music evolving, there’s also been more symphonics added each album. There’s layers of MIDI instrumentals going on in the album, despite a real piano being used on ‘Dover Hendrix’ and ‘Pollen ForThe Bees’. Is this tapping into the video game OST influence, or is it merely for cost and time efficiency? 

Yeah, you nailed it. Both of those things are true. I would really like to get into making orchestrations, because you can make them sound real. Some of the future stuff I’m working on is going to dip into that. Doing four or five albums with the same kind of MIDI sounds is getting a little…I don’t want to say stale, but predictable. I’ve always leaned into the fact that it sounds more video game-like if I use the MIDI instruments, and if I don’t mess with them that much. I just let a fake synth sound like a fake synth, or the strings sound super not realistic. Not like Septicflesh where it sounds like a huge orchestra, kind of lean into that cheaper, fake sound.

What other video game composers can you say influenced you on the album?

I always have to shout out Stewart Copeland for his Spyro soundtrack. That’s so huge for me, specifically the level Lofty Castle. The music in that level is one of my favorite pieces of music ever. Just really whimsical piano melodies, where all the intervals are spread apart, and it’s one of those things that I think about all the time. Especially when I program piano parts.

Are you drawn to a lot of these composers because of the more maximalist approach of how the Japanese composers tend to write their music?

Yeah, yeah. As opposed to the dungeon synth-y stuff. JRPGs feel very inspired by old prog rock, with those beautiful, magical flute melodies over string movements. I’m addicted to the formula, and I think they’re unmatched in terms of how well they match the atmosphere of whatever part of the game you’re at. That whole relationship of music and listening to these soundtracks while I’m not playing the game, I feel like I’m part of the world, and that’s the beautiful, escapist part of music to me. Those composers do that the best for me.

You have a lot more of a poetic approach to lyrical writing. It seems like it’s less standard metal lyric writing, and it almost feels like something that you’ve written in stream of consciousness and you stick it in songs where you think it fits. What about literary influences?

I’m way more inspired by that than a lot of other bands. There’s been certain big books for me…Vladimir Nabokov is one of my favorite writers, so his style I feel like I straight up copied for a while. Very inspired by his writing. Even guys like David Foster Wallace, that brutally transparent kind of writing. Whatever I’m reading at the time that I’m touched by has found a way into my writing style. I’ve also always been into writing, I like journaling. I’m more into a transparent, vulnerable kind of writing style. To me, I can’t write like a sci-fi thing, because I don’t see the point of doing it. It’s typically when I’m down in the dumps that I write well, because momentarily I don’t care about people reading it and can just be real. It’s funny that you said stream of consciousness, because I have vocal patterns in mind that I get really attached to, so it’s like filling in the blanks. Oftentimes, I’ll keep cutting it down until I can fit the vocal patterns.

Do you ever find great ideas for a lyric while you’re journaling?

Uh, no, not really. If I’m like, in my feels and listening to a song I made, I’ll just get the urge to put pen to paper and see if something comes out that adequately represents what the song is making me feel.

You worked with Adam Burke for the past two albums now, and this was the first commissioned piece from him. Tell me about the process.

For Aria, he already had the piece done. I saw it, and I was just like, “That’s the front cover, that’s perfect”. I bought that one, but with this one, I wanted the art to resemble a park I grew up near called Dover Hendrix. It’s kind of like a big symbol for the album. I sent him a picture that I took and he recreated it. I wanted the sewage gate tunnel, instead of being a sewage gate, to be a portal into the future. A different world. It’s about the sunny area that’s completely based off that park.

Like Aria, this is a concept album, and you seem to be very explicit in mentioning Dover Hendrix. This seems to have a recurring theme of childhood and a more hopeful or uplifting message than Aria does. I’m not the greatest at analyzing lyrical concepts, so could you tell me a little about the concept?

Initially, when I was writing it, those ten years ago when I was new to Arizona, the first song I wrote was ‘Dover Hendrix’. That song just conjured up so many nostalgic feelings for me, and it was the first time I lived in a new place away from where I grew up. I was writing all the music as a tribute to all the happy memories I had during childhood. I had a very fortunate childhood, I almost view it as a heaven on earth thing, a time of serenity. But now that I’m finally doing the album closer to age thirty, it felt weird talking about childhood, I’m a little far removed from that. It became this concept where it’s like the child self and the adult self meet, and the adult self relearns the value of life from his child self, but also the child self gets to peer into the future and get that first sense of anxiety. Dark things to come. That tension between the two.

I feel that the album’s central message is along the lines of “it’s going to be a struggle, but it’ll all be ok in the end”.

Yeah, I’d say the album ends on a neutral note. The end of the last song gets pretty dark, and musically it’s pretty bright, but the last line is “What did you do to me?”, which is supposed to be the child self asking the adult self how things went wrong. There’s no clear victory, it’s just “OK that’s what we talked about for this album and now it’s done”. Just acceptance of everything.

Lighting round! Any favorite smaller bands that you want to shout out?

Oh, man. I’d have to think. A few of them aren’t even active anymore, I think. One of them is a band called Bal-Sagoth. They haven’t been active for a while, but I listen to them all the time! I discovered them back in 2018-2019. If you’re into fantasy metal, power metal, melodeath, check them out. Best use of keyboards I’ve ever heard. Another band called Lunar Aurora, another band I’ve spent so much time with that doesn’t get nearly enough attention. I think they disbanded too. There’s gonna be a million others that I’m gonna remember and be upset I didn’t shout them out.

Favorite Final Fantasy game and character?

Favorite game is FF7, I know it’s a generic answer. It’s the first one I played, and I got into JRPGs kinda late. All those games were really overwhelming when I was six or seven, with all the reading. They’re huge! Towards the end of high school, I revisited my collection and that’s when I got into them. Favorite character? The knight from FF9, the big dude, Steiner. He just cracks me up. But also, Aerith from 7, powerful storyline.

If you could be transported into one fictional world, where would it be and why?

Oh, dude, damn. The obvious one would be Lofty Castle from Spyro 2. It’s responsible for the reason I love the color pink. The skies are all this beautiful pink. That whole world, Dreamweavers, from Spyro 1, that’s been a magical place for me for a long time. Any others would probably be from Zelda. Maybe Lake Hylia from Twilight Princess or the Fields of Hyrule.

What are some of the albums that have been on heavy rotation for you recently?

I’ve been slacking on music recently, if I’m being honest. I’ve listened to Time II a ton. I bought the whole package because I’m a die hard nerd for that band, and I’ve been listening to the battle album, I think that’s what it’s called? [Fantasy Metal Project by Jari Mäenpää] It feels like where Ensiferum left off. The new Opeth album, I’ve been listening to that. I’m not in love with it, but it’s some of the best stuff I’ve heard from them in years. Classical, post-romantic stuff. Arnold Schoenberg. Not a whole lot of albums.

My thanks to Alex for his time and taking part in this interview. Keys to the Palace drops March 14th on Willowtip Records, and you can go read the review now! I, and everyone else at the Subway, wish him a very happy release day and thank him for the amazing music he’s put out!

Links: Bandcamp | Spotify | Facebook | Instagram | | Metal-Archives Page

The post Interview: Alex Haddad (Dessiderium) appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: Gothic metal, industrial metal, alternative metal (clean vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Lacuna Coil, Epica, Megara, Ankor
Country: France
Release date: 10 January 2025

I find the French metal scene is much like the Italian metal scene in that the bands who are interested in exporting culture by singing in their native tongue seem few and far between. Imagine that even the biggest French metal band in the world, when playing on the biggest stage in the world, in their native country, singing a metal version of a traditional folk song, couldn’t help but throw an English verse into it.¹ I just had to fucking roll my eyes and laugh. What an achievement for Anglophone metal, I guess. So when I find a band that sings in their native tongue, I’m immediately more interested in listening to that than I would be in listening to another similar band who sings in English, and today that brings me to Parisians ELYOSE and their newest album Évidence. A tasty blend of djenty riffs, industrial synths, and gothic atmosphere, neatly packaged with a glossy and tight production, there’s enough earworms here to keep you happily humming along even if your only experience with the French language is the sizing at Starbucks. 

Évidence has a very defined and crisp sound that is in contrast to the more loosely cinematic or theatrical feel of the symphonic and gothic metal style. Guitarist Anthony Chognard opts instead for sharp, aggressive djent riffing in the vein of Australian progressive pop metal outfit Voyager or even Mick Gordon‘s DOOM soundtracks but never straying too far from the gothic/industrial influence: in this way I’m reminded of later Lacuna Coil releases more than something like Nightwish. Chognard is also in charge of drums, and they sound massive and play well with the stop-start guitar work, often coming through in double-kick bursts and keeping the energy up, even adding a blast-beat section in “Immuable” punctuated by a staccato vocal that sounded really sinister.

ELYOSE really shines in their use of synths on Évidence to add texture, sometimes creating ambiance with soft pads (“Abnégation”) and at other times playing complex arpeggiated leads as an intensifier before a heavy intro (“Ascension Tracée”). The synths are a good way of differentiating sections and creating a sense of movement within a track, and when that filter opens up you know some shit’s about to go down. The symphonic and electronic sounds sit well in the mix and do well not to overpower the vocals of singer Justine Daaé, who sits comfortably in her expansive range, varying from haunting and powerful high notes to a more alternative/nu-metal-inspired almost-rap cadence (“Mission Lunaire”, “Tentatives Échouées”). 

The use of decidedly pop elements across Évidence lend it a more accessible sound: the song structures are generally on the more conventional side and the durations don’t drag out too long; the djent influence in the riffing generally lacks complexity; the aforementioned alternative metal vocal style is very pop-coded, and ELYOSE favors electronic or metalcore breakdowns with the spotlight on the vocals rather than guitar solos. That’s all a little cliché but it works well enough within the broader idea. ELYOSE aren’t trying to reinvent the wheel or break new ground here, and I find myself often drawing comparisons with their 2023 release Déviante. While I applaud them for sticking to a formula that works, I wonder if maybe they could’ve been a bit more adventurous with their soundscapes and arrangements. 

Évidence is a fun, uncomplicated, 40-ish minute romp, with lots of hooky electronic parts, rhythmic groove, and a penchant for getting vocal melodies stuck in your head. And I want to extend praise for the mostly-French track listing that adds a certain je ne sais quoi to the experience. It’s always a pleasure to hear a band put out a release in their native language even if it narrows the market a little bit—and to the naysayers who may complain about not understanding the lyrics, I posit that they seldom lodge the same complaints against extreme metal outfits with harsh vocals. ELYOSE are obviously skilled at what they do, but I’d love to see them expand on it a little with the next release.

Recommended tracks: “Tentatives échouées”, “Prête au combat”, “Théogyne 2.0”
You may also like: Manigance, Vilivant, Lisa Dal Bello
Final verdict: 6/10

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

Label: Independent

ELYOSE is:
– Justine Daaé (vocals, keyboards, programming)
– Anthony Chognard (guitars, bass, drums)

1. Gojira – Mea Culpa (Ah! Ça ira!) ︎

The post Review: ELYOSE – Évidence appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Probably done by Syrkander.

Style: Progressive metal, symphonic metal, death metal, gothic metal (mixed vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Persefone, MIDI instruments, Peter Steele-esque vocals
Country: Chile
Release date: 10 January, 2025

Unreal Engine 5 did to game development what Bandcamp did to the indie music scene. No longer did you as a budding young artist need to secure funding and a space to develop your craft. You could just do it from your bedroom. Like a game created in UE5, you too can now create a polished sounding record with programmed drums and MIDI instruments. I mean, just look at most bedroom djent bands that release a few songs every few months. Insane amounts of polish and sound quality, but you look a little too long, and you get the same problem with games developed in UE5: they’ve all got a similar feel, a similar graphical art style, or in the case of music in the prog sphere, uniform identity. 

Syrkander, surprisingly enough, is a bedroom project that’s not a djent or terrible atmoblack band. Instead, the one-man Chilean act opts for a heavily symphonic style à la Dessiderium, with all the chugs of a Gojira-clone and an attempt at the grandeur of Aquilus. All of these prior bands are successful at finding identity and a unique sound, there’s none of that to be found here.  I hear a lot of prog-death staples on this album (i.e. mixed vocals, trem-picked riffs), but all of it lacks any serious substance whatsoever. The very glue that holds this behemoth of an album together is the fact that it just refuses to stop its over EIGHTY-MINUTE pulverization of my eardrums.

In the very wise words of me, you create something original when all your influences become so compounded on top of eachother that simultaneously all and nothing of them remain of them in your work. I hear some classic power metal DNA in Syrkander’s inbred formula here, as exemplified by ‘Salvame’, in which our band leader does his best Dan “The Man” Swanö impression over a one-note chuggy-chuggy riff. I also hear a bit of Persefone’s rhythmic fuckery and (attempts at) flourishes, but this remains the chief complaint I take with Via Internam: a complete lack of cohesion whatsoever. Syrkander doesn’t do much in the riff department, with much of it becoming layered mush underneath the deluge of leads and symphonic cushioning. Whenever Syrkander can, he will make sections go on for far longer than need be for padding’s sake, with opener ‘Become Darkness’ flaunting one riff for all three-and-a-quarter minutes of its overlong runtime.

Syrkander’s ambition mix with his identity crisis is also apparent in his vocal styles. While I commend the effort of having both cleans and harshes on a one-man album, Edge of Sanity this is not. ‘Feverish’ sees him trying a low-register, Type-O Negative-esque croon that just sounds like he’s drunk and slurring his words. However, this doesn’t really make a return anywhere on the album, instead opting for his Dan Swanö impression for most of the album. In fact, I’m not even sure he sounds like the Witherscape frontman so much as he sounds like a mid-2000s alt metal vocalist trying to sing a ballad. An alt metal influence might explain the simple riffing, but again, I can’t tell what sparked this man’s neurons together in the first place even after I’ve listened. While some symphonic parts are cool, such as the choir on ‘Furia Divinia’, none of it feels earned. There are no big builds and even bigger releases on Via Internam, just eighty-minutes of songs floating in a pool of their own gelatinous mass.

I have barely mentioned the symphonic aspect of Syrkander, because it may as well not be there. Nearly every song begins and ends with some kind of string or synth, and none of it is used interestingly. The Chilean can’t decide if he wants it to be used in the background for atmosphere, like Emperor’s classic In the Nightside Eclipse or to have it be front and center like most modern symphonic bands. On ‘Dhet Khom Uhsal’, its absence is sorely missed with the one time Syrkander wants to create a semi-interesting riff, which would go perfectly with a few string flutters. This is, of course, before he repeats said section too many times.

Like my UE5 game analogy, Syrkander is something that was made with likely good intentions and no way of reaching them. This is ambitious for a one-man band to accomplish, but not everyone can be Alex Haddad (Dessiderium). Instead, Via Internam is a shoddily put together mess of symphonic flourishes and riffs that are so bare bones he may as well have opted to make an album without guitar entirely. I can only give Syrkander credit for trying, but he has a long way to go before attempting another epic of this standing. If it were up to me, I think he should start from ground zero. Figure out what went wrong here so as not to pull a Culak. Also, lose the spoken word and evil laughs: they’re not helping your cause here.

Recommended tracks: Furia Divinia, Dhet Khom Uhsal, Nemsis
You may also like: Culak, Ben Baruk, Aeternam, Aquilus
Final verdict: 3/10

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

Label: Independent

Syrkander is:
– Syrkander (probably everything?)

The post Review: Syrkander – Via Internam appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: Symphonic metal, progressive metal, power metal (mixed vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Therion, Haggard, Agrippa’s occult philosophy, Fleshgod Apocalypse, the works of Albertus Magnus, Rhapsody of Fire
Review by: Francesco
Country: Netherlands
Release date: 21 December 2024

When I was a younger man, I was obsessed with the music of film. I speak, of course, of the classical-inspired original compositions that used to score films and trailers before the recent trend of including lowest-common-denominator pop crap that permeates practically every new film release of the last decade. The sweeping melodies of string sections and elevated tension of the percussion, the paces accelerando as the chills ran down my spine, the pieces finally crescendoing into a marked climax – and it was like feeling a week’s worth of emotions in a two-minute period. At some point, I started listening to heavy metal and picked up the electric guitar for the first time. Eventually, I discovered Rhapsody (later ‘of Fire’), and 16-year-old me was immediately obsessed. In the time since, I’ve been all up and down the symphonic metal style and its associates power, death, black…(thrash when?) – and even though it’s no longer my go-to these days, I can always be persuaded to lend an ear to a fugue or two. Enter Black Yet Full of Stars, an impressive orchestral metal project by Amsterdam-based Italian composer Carlo M. Dini. Dark Wing Gospel is the second release under this name and features an all new lineup, including among others Davide Penna (Mirrormaze) on clean vocals and Ludovico Cioffi (Delain) on growled vocals. 

The album takes a slightly different approach to most symphonic metal; whereas many bands tend to emphasize the more standard metal elements, to which an orchestral tapestry is merely a backdrop, Black Yet Full of Stars prioritizes instead creating rousing symphonies in multiple movements, to which the metal generally takes a support role, only ever taking the forefront during solo guitar sections. As such, to suggest Dark Wing Gospel is replete with the iconic riffs or memorable sweep-picking solos of some other symphonic, perhaps neoclassical, progressive power metal outfits would be misleading; although metal is without question an important ingredient on this album, it is only part of the whole. Think more Therion, and less Rhapsody or Kamelot. The focus here has ostensibly been to create textured landscapes that conjure up grandiosity, majesty, and at times, despair; menace. The baritenor singing of Davide Penna evokes triumph and agony with a dark, emotive voice reminiscent of Adagio’s Christian Palin, while the brash, confrontational harsh vocals of Ludovico Cioffi hearken hellish creatures and dark sentiment in a manner not unlike that of Asis Nasseri from Haggard.

Certainly, ‘orchestrator’ is a title Carlo does not take lightly to, as Dark Wing Gospel is an ambitious release even for the bombast that typically defines symphonic metal. Right from the start, you can get a sense of the theatrical, grandiose nature of the album with the overture of “Halom Shacor”, the opening track of the album. The threatening sound of a pounding march fades into a sinister violin and rumbly grand piano, introducing choirs (with real people, no MIDI!) and horns, and a mounting anticipation that builds and builds, until the drums and guitars kick in with a syncopated beat that immediately gets you making a stank face. Starting a symphonic metal album with an instrumental orchestral suite isn’t groundbreaking territory by any means, but there’s a sophistication here that Carlo’s formal background in music brings to the record; there’s a definite cinematic flair here that feels very much like listening to an epic film score.

With a runtime of only forty-eight short minutes, Dark Wing Gospel packs as much as sonically possible into each of the six tracks – with only one of those coming in under the five-minute mark, and the longest being just shy of nine minutes – but as such, the pieces tend to flow into one another so well that I often found myself having to look back at my phone to redetermine which track was currently playing. The whole album is over before you know it, and even though you’re left reeling in the wake of this dramatic spectacle, indeed it can be challenging to recall the differences between pieces as the strings and horns and entire symphony sometimes becomes a blur. This isn’t necessarily a detractor, but it’s another one of the ways in which it tends to feel more like a soundtrack than a metal album. And indeed, there’s apparently an entirely orchestral and vocal remix of the album in the works that is due for release at some point.

Black Yet Full of Stars doesn’t try to reinvent the wheel with Dark Wing Gospel, but competently utilizes all the arcane knowledge that came before to forge a progressive, cerebral symphonic metal experience that fully immerses the listener with its esoteric essence. The sum and substance of this album are found throughout the genre and style, but few can competently alchemize them in the way Carlo has done. Though placemarkers can be slightly challenging to find as you run through the track listing, uniformity is not necessarily a bad thing, and it makes for a very consistent release. There’s no shortage of massive, epic Italian symphonic metal works, and Dark Wing Gospel is no exception. And yeah, maybe this album was made in the Netherlands, but it has the boot of Italy written all over it. Truly his magnum opus, these oeuvres transmute a base metal into a noble one, and render this album a joy to listen to.

Recommended tracks: “Nigredo, Foulest Servant”, “Albedo, Ancient Heart”, “Rubedo, The Artist”
You may also like: Adagio, Winter’s Verge, Audiomachine, the alchemical writing of Paracelsus, Stormlord
Final verdict: 8.5/10

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

Label: Independent

Black yet Full of Stars is:
– Carlo M. Dini (composer, producer)

The post Review: Black Yet Full of Stars – Dark Wing Gospel appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Art by: Maximilian Korosteljov

Style: Progressive metal (clean vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Dream Theater, Kamelot, Caligula’s Horse, Ayreon
Country: Australia
Release date: 24 May 2024

[Editor’s note: since reviewing Teramaze, they released transophobic lyrics on their 2025 album The Harmony Machine, something which we deem unacceptable. We endeavor not to promote bigotry in any way, and we consider it our responsibility to make note of this if these details come to light after reviewing.]

Ever since Sorella Minore came out in 2021, Teramaze have been a favorite of mine. Seemingly out of nowhere, they casually dropped a twenty-five minute track alongside three short five minute ones, and then said, “Oh yeah, we’re releasing another album six months later.” Flabbergasted by their boldness, I checked out the album and was quickly enamored of their colorful, cinematic approach to songwriting, as well as Nathan Peachy’s soulful vocals and Dean Wells’ and Chris Zoupa’s emotional lead guitar work. Then, having barely digested Sorella Minore, their new album And the Beauty They Perceived came out, and less than a year later Flight of the Wounded was also in my mailbox. Now two years and ample digestion time later, the Australians are back with yet another package of melodic goodness titled Eli: A Wonderful Fall From Grace. How could I resist?

Teramaze play a bread-and-butter brand of progressive metal: hyper-melodic vocals that border on pop sit on top of light djenty riffs bolstered by cinematic keyboard arrangements. General progressive wizardry is present in the form of time signature fuckery (“The Will of Eli”), tempo and mood changes (“Standing Ovation”), and head-spinning climaxes doing everything all at once (“Madam Roma”). However, the main appeal of Teramaze is not in their technical prowess, but in their ability to evoke a sense of wonder and longing; despite the pop sensibilities, there is a slight edge to the vocal lines and a dark vibe throughout Eli’s runtime. The solos reflect this as well by emphasizing melody and feel, only using shred as a tool in service of the overall composition (see for example, “Step Right Up”). 

And sure enough, Teramaze’s songwriting prowess is as good as ever. Unlike the chorus-driven Flight of the Wounded, Eli is a concept album whose songwriting is informed by its story beats, relying on principles of tension and release as opposed to a firm verse-chorus structure. It is the conceptual finale of the Halo trilogy, picking up where Sorella Minore left off to finish what Her Halo began. The concept album format lends itself greatly to Teramaze’s free flowing songwriting approach: they do use choruses, but almost always conjure up a compelling divergence in structure in the latter half. “The Will of Eli,” for instance, continually builds up tension and peaks at the halfway point as it pulls out all the stops, then provides release by transitioning into this gorgeous Floydian acoustic section; “Step Right Up” has a similar dropoff halfway through but builds up again to a grandiose finale at the hands of a beautiful elongated guitar solo; and “Madam Roma” even introduces a second chorus in its finale after delivering the flashiest, most technical crescendo of the album yet. The titular “A Wonderful Fall From Grace” also greatly demonstrates this tension and release writing, teasing a saxophone solo multiple times before finally letting loose in glorious fashion, resulting in one of my favorite musical moments of 2024. While the track does take time to get going, making the first half a smidge bloated, the payoff is tremendous, expertly showing off the bands talents for both technicality and feel. 

This free flowing approach might raise concerns about diminishing quality of the vocal hooks, but this couldn’t be further from the truth. Nathan Peachy is an incredibly expressive and powerful vocalist, as is Dean Wells, who takes up vocal duties on the power ballad “Hands Are Tied.” Thanks to Wells’ talent for melody writing, he manages to make not just every chorus, but also damn near every verse catchy—in “Standing Ovation” especially, the verses are even bigger earworms than the chorus! While the focus on vocal melodies may detract from the riffage at times, leading to occasional sections of forgettable djenty chugging (“Step Right Up”, “A Wonderful Fall From Grace”), it’s actually a choice that reaps dividends, preventing the arrangements from becoming too crowded. 

Despite technicality not being the focus, Teramaze are by no means slouches. “The Will of Eli,” for example, opens with a syncopated rhythm doing four bars of three followed by one of four, creating a highly asymmetrical feeling in what is ultimately a 4/4 beat, and the guitar solo near the halfway mark is a proper mind-bender too. By far the most technical song however is the djenty “Madam Roma,” which features a ton of rhythmic switchups and delivers the most impressive instrumental section yet. At the peak of tension we get some well-placed harsh vocals which make the release of the subsequent guitar solo and second chorus all the more cathartic. “Standing Ovation,” too, has some dizzying solos that release into a deeply satisfying, weighty conclusion.

“Standing Ovation” beckons the listener with the lyrics “Get your ticket for a one of a kind / A performer that’ll blow your mind,” and in my case, Teramaze are that one-of-a-kind. Eli absolutely refused to leave my brain alone this year, its melodically rich yet technically intricate songwriting acting as a sideshow spectacle which blew me away over and over again. Traditional prog metal may be out of fashion, but on Eli: A Wonderful Fall From Grace, Teramaze show that sticking to a tried-and-true sound can work wonders in the right hands. It’s a worthy closer to the Halo trilogy, and I can’t wait to see what major work they have planned next.

Recommended tracks: The Will of Eli, Madam Roma, Standing Ovation (also all of them)
You may also like: Anubis Gate, Voices From the Fuselage, Vanden Plas, Daydream XI, Ostura
Final verdict: 8.5/10

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

Label: Wells Music (so basically Independent)

Teramaze is:
– Nathan Peachy (vocals)
– Dean Wells (guitars, lead vocals on track 7, backing vocals otherwise)
– Chris Zoupa (guitars)
– Andrew Cameron (bass)
– Nick Ross (drums)

The post Missed Album Review: Teramaze – Eli: A Wonderful Fall From Grace appeared first on The Progressive Subway.