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 metal, alternative metal (clean vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Tool, Karnivool, Soen (pre-Lotus), Leprous
Country: France
Release date: 21 June 2025

I first discovered Mantra by way of a review on this very blog covering Medium, their 2019 EP conceived around a gimmick of releasing two separate tracks which could be overlaid on top of each other to create the “true” full song. It should be no surprise that Mantra might return to a highly conceptual approach for their latest album Celestial. One “season” of this album has been released on each equinox or solstice starting last fall, and now that we’ve passed the summer solstice to complete the cycle, the four parts can finally be brought together for the full experience. I initially intended to review Celestial last fall after the project was announced and the first EP released, but it quickly became clear that trying to develop an analysis based on what was essentially an introduction would be a flawed approach. With the benefit of greater context, the opening tracks from Fall still feel like mostly setup, but now provide a proper introduction to a broader work instead of a ramp leading directly over the edge of a sheer cliff.

As a first impression of Mantra, Medium has always left me feeling a bit, well, medium—not due to any great flaws in the music itself, but because of how little its structural gimmick enhances the listening experience. Each track individually, as well as the final combination, just sounds like a normal (and generally pretty good) song; it doesn’t feel like either of the component parts are missing anything critical, but by the same token, putting them back together doesn’t offer any great sense of completion. With that in mind, Celestial faces a similar test: was it worth the song and dance around its staggered release, and do the chopped-up pieces join together in a way that feels more meaningful than just producing any old album themed around the four seasons? Or will the disjointed scheduling lead to an equally disjointed listening experience when all is told?

Mantra’s musical aesthetic as a whole is not the most original, nor generally the most flashy or virtuosically impressive. Their success depends heavily on maintaining a rich mix of alternative elements, with hefty bass, dark-roasted malt guitars, and edgy half-growled vocals that only rarely break completely into harsh tones. Medium’s greatest shortcoming was undercutting that core richness by dividing one strong track into two weaker ones. Although Celestial’s limitations are less inherent to its release structure, it seems its development may have focused more on each section’s role within the turn of the seasons rather than polishing each track to be the best it could be. Whatever the story of Celestial’s conception, though, the result is far from a failure. The opening Fall sands down some of the metal edges in favor of a heavy progressive rock hybrid that could be compared to Leprous’s most recent works or this year’s outing from Derev, but the second quarter Winter unfolds an icy shroud, hearkening back to Mantra’s more familiar styles with omnipresent bass and choppy, deliberately off-balance rhythms embedded in heady time signatures.

Mantra apply their penchant for grandeur towards building cathedral-worthy scenes filled with epic choral guest vocals from Juliette and Matthis Lemonnier, like the section just past the midpoint of Winter’s second track “Vessel” or the climactic final moments of the monolithic Spring. Celestial’s lyrics hint at grand extraterrestrial topics of apocalypses and dying suns, cosmic purpose granted to a chosen savior, and the folly and failure of one imagining a divine destiny that was never there. Despite the effort put into the seasonal release cadence, the four seasons don’t feature heavily as lyrical or stylistic themes, aside from the general connection between seasons and the sun; the focus lands instead on the deific glory of stars and the spiritual feelings they inspire. Widespread piano presence and the usage of particularly chime-like effects from both guitar and keyboard echo earthly religious musical traditions as well as evoke a more natural “music of the spheres” that might lend itself to pagan worship.

The biggest thing missing from Celestial is a sort of “wow” moment, a grand climax to make the listener sit up in awe. Their past works have accomplished this with satisfying, drawn-out development, which piles up more and more elements until the music is full to bursting. Celestial’s triumphant moments during the Winter and Spring seasons arrive too early in the tracklist and don’t quite reach the required heights, but Mantra’s overall compositions are strong nonetheless, providing an abundance of smaller peaks throughout to help keep the energy high.

Mantra remain single-minded in their goal to push the boundaries of musical composition through experiments in unconventional release formats. It’s unfortunate that these efforts don’t add a ton to the music itself; the base talent and quality of their compositions provide a strong starting point, but their final productions struggle to rise above that level and achieve true excellence. Mantra continue to deliver moody, untamed rhythms with a dark, satisfyingly crunchy toasted edge. With strong production and clever ideas behind the music, there’s plenty to recommend Celestial, even if the band’s full machinations haven’t quite come to fruition. I just wouldn’t advise waiting nine months to collect all the pieces.

Recommended tracks: Winter I – Isolation, Winter II – Vessel, Spring – Home, Summer I – Transcendence
You may also like: Mother of Millions, Diagonal Path, Riviẽre, In the Silence, Traverser
Final verdict: 7/10

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

Label: Vlad Productions – Bandcamp | Website | Facebook

Mantra is:
– Gabriel Junod (percussion)
– Pierre Junod (vocals)
– Arthur Lauth (bass, piano)
– Simon Saint-Georges (guitars, electric oud)
With guests:
– Juliette Lemonnier (additional vocals)
– Matthis Lemonnier (additional vocals)
– Niqolah Seeva (oud)

The post Review: Mantra – Celestial appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Artwork by: Albert Bierstadt (1868); Layout by: Annick Giroux

Style: Epic Doom Metal, Folk Metal, Heavy Metal (Mixed vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Unleash the Archers, Cirith Ungol, Visigoth
Country: Illinois, United States
Release date: 27 June 2025

Growing up, I was all about fantasy, especially in my metal. Themes of wonder and romance, mythical beasts and steadfast warriors filled my imagination. Yet these days, I’ve found it harder and harder to connect with this formerly potent musical leyline. Call it a reflection of the times. I still love the bands I grew up with—the Kamelots, Symphony Xs, and Dios—and I’ve flirted with some newer makes and models (Unleash the Archers has done some fantastic work in the space). But, as we’ve marched closer towards dystopia, tales of adventure seem perhaps churlish compared to the angst and uncertainty permeating our modern world. Sauron is winning, and the Fellowship is splintered over a culture war.

Yet there’s a part of me that yearns to believe in heroes of might and magic once more. Which brings us to Chicagoan heavy metal warband, Fer de Lance (not to be confused with the Peruvian thrashers of the same name). Coming onto the scene only five years ago with their Colossus EP, and debut full-length The Hyperborean in 2022, the band have flown completely under my radar until now. They peddle in “epic doom”—basically, fantasy-fuelled, mid-paced heavy metal full of lurching, heroic riffs and deliberate kitwork, like a steadfast march towards glory and gold. Taken in by the gorgeous cover art of latest album, Fires on the Mountainside, and intrigued by the promise of the epic doom metal by which Fer de Lance mark their trade, I was eager to see if these mighty men of metal have what it takes to break the curse and return the fire to my fantasy-loving heart.

If ever there was a soundtrack to evoke the sword-and-sorcery, devil-may-care adventuring of Robert E. Howard’s brooding Cimmerian, Conan, and kindred ilk, Fires on the Mountainside makes a strong case for consideration. From minute one, opener (and title track) “Fires on the Mountainside” saunters forth with jaunty guitar and a bard-worthy chorus as frontman MP bellows “I seeee… fires on the mountainside,” tossing in some Woah-ohs for good measure. Flickers of black metal emerge in the bridge as trem-picking and rasped vocals create a sense of descent into danger, showcasing Fer de Lance’s ability to steer the material wherever the greatest adventure lies. At nearly thirteen minutes, “Fires on the Mountainside” is one hell of a way to kick off a record, as it twists and turns and climbs across subgenres, from rousing epic doom, black metal, and glints of folk in the acoustic-strummed guitars that underpin much of the proceedings. MP’s range is impressive as he plumbs the depths of rattling growls, tough-guy gravel, all the way to the high-fantasy heights of falsetto wails.

What follows across the album’s forty-nine minutes sees the band pull from much of the same arsenal—though like the aforementioned Conan, they’ve descended from their wind-swept kingdom well-versed in their chosen arts, as no two songs sound the same. Take “Fire & Gold” with its Western-infused musical gallop, hand tambourines and stomping drums heralding a lone stranger’s ride into the kind of town where violence and virtue may yet clash, the dusty road stained black with an enemy’s blood under the white-hot bake of high noon. The chorus of “Death Thrives (Where Walls Divide)” sees MP’s harshes hit a vicious cadence akin to Legion of the Damned frontman Maurice Swinkels, giving the song an extra dose of theatrical menace before shifting into Eastern-influenced guitar wizardry of a most fine kind. MP finds some Ronnie James Dio-adjacent power in the vocals on “The Feast of Echoes,” leaning into some fun “mhmmmhmms” that make me think of a testosterone-fueled version of Rainbow.¹

Elsewhere and everywhere, I’m reminded in small ways of Eternal Champion, mostly in the band’s full-fledged commitment to the material. Fires on the Mountainside is refreshing: Unlike some fantasy-themed bands who write with their tongues planted firmly through cheek (and thus dabbling in irony-poisoned cringe), Fer de Lance write and perform their music with an unabashed, shameless love for the fantasy genre—theatrical, yes, but taken seriously. The songs are rousing, with full-chested deliveries and a palpable energy, despite the more moderate pacing. My only real complaint about the album is that some of the songs drag on a tad too long, and after a while I tend to forget where I am on the record. This is the kind of album that would absolutely thrive on a playlist. The songs are replete with fun transitions showcasing the music’s textures, which provide each track with individual merit. Yet together, Fires on the Mountainside loses some of its energy, the blazing bonfire giving ground to the encroaching shadows of distraction. By the time we reach “Tempest Stele,” the storm has turned into more of a gust and my legs ache for want of resting.

All said, Fer de Lance have come out of (subjectively) nowhere to impart upon mine ears a winsome collection of epic tales. In a day and age where fantasy-themed metal has largely been relegated to my rearview, Fires on the Mountainside stands as a perfect reminder that there are still bands out there writing the kind of stuff I crave—and new ones, at that! Like my current reading experience with Robert E. Howard’s The Coming of Conan the Cimmerian, Fires on the Mountainside offers a collection of well-crafted gems worthy of uncovering—perhaps best individually, rather than in one fell swoop. If you’ve been starved for metal of a steelier order, or just on the lookout for something new, then heed that yonder firelight in the distance, and let Fer de Lance take you on a glorious adventure.

Recommended tracks: Fires on the Mountainside, Death Thrives (Where Walls Divide), The Feast of Echoes
You may also like: Eternal Champion, Sumerlands, Conan
Final verdict: 7/10

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

Label: Cruz de Sur Music Records – Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Website

Fer de Lance is:
– Rüst (bass, acoustic guitars, vocals, percussion)
– MP (vocals, guitars, keyboards)
– Scud (drums, vocals)
– J. Geist (guitars)

1.  I would love to hear Fer de Lance cover “Gates of Babylon.” ︎

The post Review: Fer de Lance – Fires on the Mountainside 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.

Cocojoey – Stars
Recommended for fans of: Sophie, iwrestledabearonce, Electric Callboy
Picked by: Dave

What do the genres bitpop, digital fusion, j-pop, hardcore breaks, and cybergrind all have in common? They all play a central role on STARS, the latest release by Chicago artist Cocojoey. To call STARS eclectic would be an understatement, but don’t mistake Cocojoey’s eclecticism for a lack of intention or focus: every song features compositional breadcrumbs to give direction among the chaos, hinting at central melodies in introductory moments and recontextualizing ideas in both the more melodic and intense settings. Additionally, STARS’ instrumentation intertwines with its utterly relatable lyricism. The end product is a glimpse into a chaotic internal world where unbridled technicolor glee is used as a tool to fight off a volcanic fury that builds inside when left to reflect on the injustices imposed on us. Alongside this, though, STARS is just fun: a lighthearted and optimistic streak often cuts through the heavy lyricism, particularly on tracks like “INFUSION BAbY”, whose chorus sounds like an unimaginably frenetic magical girl transformation, or “MIDNIGHT LICKING HOURS”, a song about Cocojoey’s cat that features a playful and dancey VGM beat. Overall, Cocojoey does an amazing job of synthesizing STARS’ ideas in a way that is hyperactive, maximalist, and compositionally brilliant.

Recommended tracks: TIME TO GO!, THE I LIKE SONG, hearth<3, COCOJOEY’S LACK OF REGRETS
Related links: Bandcamp | Spotify | original review

Glass Garden – Desperate Little Messages
Recommended for fans of: Thank You Scientist, daoud
Picked by: Claire

If you’ve ever listened to jazz pop and found yourself thinking “this is good, but it could really use a rapper’, then boy, do I have an album for you! Desperate Little Messages, a winsome sophomore effort from New Jersey’s Glass Garden, is clever and catchy, with a rapper/singer duo whose deliveries range from whimsical to intimate to tongue-in-cheek from one breath to the next. Thank You Scientist’s fingerprints are all over, too, with several of their members on Glass Garden’s roster. The playful bass lines, swinging brass, and piano-forward textures are irresistible, and these Desperate Little Messages are delivered in a package that’s as tightly assembled as it is gently unguarded.

Recommended tracks: Making Space; Sleepy, Hollow; Will-of-Whispers
Related links: Spotify | original review

The Dear Hunter – North American EP
Recommended for fans of: Coheed and Cambria, Closure in Moscow, The Reign of Kindo, Bear Ghost
Picked by: Ian

Plenty of bands can release good stuff when they’re trying their hardest – putting their absolute all into making something truly special. But you know a band is truly talented when even the throwaway collections of bits and bobs they toss out on a whim are genuinely excellent. This tie-in EP to The Dear Hunter‘s recently released “North American Tour” mockumentary is not their magnum opus, and it sure as hell isn’t trying to be. What it is is an absurdly fine-tuned, breezy collection of five standalone bops from one of the best bands in prog right now, freed from the burden of trying to make their usual grand, conceptual fare and let loose to make something just plain fun. From the tight, intricate grooves of “Classic Wrock” to the kickass horn-and-guitar breakdown of “Shlammin’ Salmon” to the dreamy, blissful “Burritokyo”, these songs are seriously great despite their silly titles, blending the tight “future funk” style of their previous record Antimai with a looser, more psychedelic vibe. If this is the quality The Dear Hunter can put out for a humble little EP, their upcoming proper full-length Sunya is set to be absolutely stellar.

Recommended tracks: Shlammin’ Salmon, Burritokyo
Related links: Bandcamp | Spotify | original review

Non-Subway Picks

McKinley Dixon – Magic, Alive! (jazz rap)
Combining excellent jazz beats with poignant lyricism and a great cast of guests, McKinley Dixon proves again he should be the face of jazz rap.
[picked by: Andy] 

Insania – The Great Apocalypse (power metal)
Classic EUPM that isn’t a self parody is increasingly rare these days, but Insania have hit the sweet spot. Cheesy singalong choruses and shreddy solos galore, these Swedes take bombastic fun to heights it hadn’t yet reached this year.
[picked by: Andy] 

The post Our June 2025 Albums of the Month! appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: Post-metal, progressive metal (mixed vocals)
Recommended for fans of: The Ocean, Mastodon, Psychonaut
Country: Croatia
Release date: 21 June 2025

Some things are much harder to learn later in life. As a triathlete, I lament the fact that I didn’t learn to swim properly as a kid. Sure, I eventually picked up the freestyle stroke well enough, but I’d be significantly faster had I instilled proper technique when my mind was younger and more malleable. At age 33, no matter how much I train, my technique has stagnated, even as I get fitter and fitter. Languages are similar, as I’m sure the hordes of people my age who’ve given up on Duolingo can attest. There’s a little-used word for the late learner, who may have missed the formative advantages of youth: an opsimath.

Opsimath also happens to be the name of the one-man metal project masterminded by Croatian multi-instrumentalist and vocalist Kristijan Bajlo. What the name refers to is up for interpretation: musically, is Bajlo an opsimath? Unlikely, given that he’s the same age as me and has built up a formidable list of active and past projects dating back to at least 2007. Perhaps the name refers to a late decision to begin Opsimath, and the learning required to carry it out, as the project wasn’t created until 2020. Maybe the name is nothing more than a name. Whatever the case, after Opsimath’s strong 2023 debut, Bajlo is back with Hauntings of Intrepid Stardust. Joining him is a host of guest musicians and vocalists, though he remains the project’s primary driver. Opsimath or not, does Bajlo’s follow-up effort show learning and progression, or does it stagnate like my middling swim stroke?

Although rooted in post-metal, Bajlo isn’t afraid to draw from whatever genres he sees fit, as Hauntings of Intrepid Stardust has elements from all over the metal universe. The overt black metal inspiration of the debut is nearly absent, but you can hear shades of prog, groove, stoner, thrash, a touch of Gothenburg, death, and others. And while none of Bajlo’s songwriting is especially unique in isolation, the way he dynamically infuses these different styles keeps the record exciting. Hauntings’ structure is somewhat unorthodox, offering eight tracks, with four heavier ones each followed by a softer one. From a compositional or conceptual standpoint, it’s not clear to me why Bajlo organized the songs in this heavy-soft pattern, and the listening experience can feel a little disjointed. But the quality of the songs themselves and Bajlo’s ability to wield and blend different genres so effectively make this easy to forgive. 

“The Snake,” for example, has a groovin’ albeit somewhat generic verse riff with Hetfield-like vocals, but soon the tempo slows and a proggy, off-kilter triplet rhythm takes hold; a hooky chorus follows, a soulful solo and swinging bridge comes after that, and then the track explodes into a full-on death metal section. That’s a lot packed into a song that’s so easy to listen to. Meanwhile, Gothenburg-esque guitars propel “The Beast” forward into a thrashy midsection and ripping solo. The two standout songs, however, are opener “Into the Abyss” and penultimate track “Under the Sunless Sky,” each being an absolute riff fest with plenty of texture. The former includes a classical guitar opening with traditional percussion, and the latter features an excellent mixture of male and female vocals. “Under the Sunless Sky” also has one of the catchiest riffs of the year, beginning the bridge just shy of the three-minute mark. The guitar solo that comes in and plays over it is the icing on the cake. 

Hauntings’ four other tracks—all of the softer variety—don’t quite match up in quality to their heavier counterparts, but they’re well done and enjoyable enough. Each is driven primarily by clean guitars, light percussion, and emotive vocals. Indeed, Bajlo and his guest vocalists are notably strong across the entire album, heavy and gentle tracks alike, varying emotion and intensity as each passage demands with gruff yet often melodic deliveries. From the hellish growls before the final chorus of “The Snake” to the heartfelt crooning of “Through the Whirlwinds,” the vocals consistently impress. The performance in closing track “Onward” is the biggest surprise, having an approach with an uncanny resemblance to that of Pain of Salvation’s Daniel Gildenlöw. Odd as that may seem after seven songs without theatrical flair, the vocals are charming and provide a memorable ending to the album.

Ultimately, Hauntings of Intrepid Stardust stands as an accessible yet refined metal album. Its main ingredients—the songwriting, vocals, and instrumental performances—are rock solid, and it boasts a production and mix on par with any other album out there. Although Hauntings might not feel perfectly balanced in its structure and quality, and its material isn’t earth-shattering, anyone who enjoys metal should find quite a lot to like. Hauntings of Intrepid Stardust builds upon Opsimath’s debut and delivers another success—Bajlo, the opsimath perhaps, has done it again. Maybe that’s all the inspiration I need to get back in the pool.

Recommended tracks: Into the Abyss, Under the Sunless Sky, Onward
You may also like: SIKASA, Cobra the Impaler, Hippotraktor, Obscure Sphinx
Final verdict: 7/10

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

Label: Independent

Opsimath is:
– Kristijan Bajlo (all instruments, vocals)
With guests:
– Bruno Longfield (vocals, “Into the Abyss”)
– Karlo Žampera (lead guitars, “Into the Abyss” and “The Snake”)
– Linda Primožić Kinda (classical guitars, “Into the Abyss”)
– Toma Cukrov (keyboards, “Take Me Home”)
– Dario Berg (vocals, “The Snake”)
– Damir Tomić (vocals, “The Beast”)
– Bruno Grobelšek (lead guitars, “The Beast”)
– Lea Magzan (vocals, “Under the Sunless Sky”)
– Viktor Petrina (lead guitars, “Under the Sunless Sky”)

The post Review: Opsimath – Hauntings of Intrepid Stardust appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: Progressive Metal, Death Metal, Black Metal (Mixed vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Opeth, Borknagar, In Mourning, old Leprous
Country: Finland
Release date: 13 June, 2025

A recurring conceptual puzzle that lingers in progressive music communities is whether artists can be considered “progressive” while treading over waters previously covered by other sonic adventurers. For example, a band can be technical in their utilization of progressive songwriting techniques, showcasing fairly unconventional compositions in the grand scheme of music creation. However, many critics will still complain that these bands are not “progressive” because their contributions have largely been done before. This stubborn desire that prog fans have for innovation creates tension with their love for music that replicates sounds established by influential artists in the scene.

It’s well within reason for these kinds of thoughts to creep in and out of one’s mind while listening to an album like Vitruvian Rays, the debut LP by Sargassus. It displays an interesting execution of many techniques spanning progressive death metal, melodic death metal, black metal, and jazz fusion. Additionally, Sargassus show an admirable ability to deconstruct the tropes of these genres and rearrange them in ways that we don’t often expect, but little provided here is particularly new or original – few times does it even offer material worth taking the time to come back to.

On a positive note, Sargassus display a talented understanding of harsh and soft dynamics in metal instrumentation. The drummer, Matias Rokio, often contrasts intense snare drums, double-bass kicks, and blast beats in moments of high impact with softer, jazzy, prog-induced fills in transitional interludes or moments of respite. The guitarist, Teemu Leskinen, begins nearly every track with a moody melodeath riff, and as the song progresses, mix and match levels of gain and distortion on that riff, and then alters that riff again tremolo-style during climaxes. Leskinen and Rokio mix and match these techniques with each other to obtain new combinations in moments, as though they are collecting them like trading cards. Vocalist, Matias Stenman, mostly sticks with deep, textured growls and gurgles, both of which sound notably experienced. On a few occasions, he will also present rather ominous, ritualistic chants that do wonders for the eerie vibe of the album. Bassist, Mertta Halonen, seems to be rather static, providing compositional continuity by keeping the other band members anchored in subtle grooves. The synthesis of these instrumental components creates a sound most similar to a band like In Vain, Opeth, or Dawn of Ouroboros. 

Sargassus often take riffs that sound derivative at first but develop them into something of their own. For example, the main riff from “The Lone Idunn Grows in Shade” sounds eerily reminiscent of “Dual Existence” by Enshine—a fellow progressive melodeath band—to the point where it almost sounds ripped off. Sargassus presents it acoustically, then they distort it, add growls, and slowly increase the intensity of the rhythm section. The riff is reverted back to acoustic, but now it’s backed with impressive-as-hell jazz-infused drum fills; then it’s distorted again and delivered through blackened tremolos accompanied by evil shrieks. As a cool down, the riff is presented undistorted acoustic again, this time, alongside some nasty growls which create a gestalt creepiness similar to the way Borknagar used to do aggressive growls on top of soft instrumentals. The execution is thoroughly fleshed out in an interesting way, even though I’m a stickler for riffs that sound like they’ve been done before.

The writing of “Pahat Veräjät” and “Carving the Veins of God” seem to have similar songwriting elements in mind; the former features sinister vocals and particularly progressive drumming, the latter having an ultra killer tremolo riff. These two tracks also showcase excellent band chemistry, each member contributing to a sum greater than its parts. Another outstanding track is “On the Shoulders of Atlas,” which subversively closes with an extended melody that lounges around with these layered guitar chords and ominous vocals. I love when tracks have unexpected song structures and/or close tracks unconventionally. However, the band totally missed out on developing this nice riff into an epic climax by building it up with a harsher intensity through their aforementioned black metal and death metal techniques. This extended closer could have been turned into a sublime climax and could have been the best track on the album, but instead ….

The rest of the tracks have less success. “Judgment of the Four” meanders around for a while and peaks with this super lukewarm guitar solo that doesn’t know if it’s supposed to be this glistening, melodic respite amongst the brutality or a showcase of technicality. The solo sort of rides a wave in the middle of the two, leaving it to sound rather unimpressive. The band seemed to go for a sound similar to An Abstract Illusion here (can you blame them?) but failed in execution. The other tracks that bookend the album are just boring. They don’t have catchy melodies, nor do they experiment much with the song dynamics like you would expect from a band inspired by Opeth or In Vain.

While the band showcases a thorough understanding of the contents of the scene they’re grounding themselves in, even pushing the bar in a few moments on the album, their success is too scattered and not compelling enough to make up for their flaws. I’d go further to argue that a lot of this debut is, in theory, doomed from the start since Sargassus takes too much from bands that came before them. Many of these influential bands had much greater creativity and presented more compelling melodies over a decade before Vitruvian Rays. If bands like Borknagar, Leprous, and Opeth can growl over melancholic riffs, jazzy drums, and the like—but do so with stronger hooks and more powerful emotion—new bands are going to need to think more outside the box to overcome the standard set by their predecessors.

Recommended tracks: Carving the Veins of God, Pahat Veräjät, On The Shoulders of Atlas
You may also like: In Vain, Dawn of Ouroboros, Stone Healer, Schammasch, Enshine, IER, Aenaon, Eternal Storm, She Said Destroy
Final verdict: 6/10

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

Label: Independent

Sargassus is:
– Matias Stenman (vocals)
– Teemu Leskinen (guitar)
– Matias Roko (drums)
– Mertta Halonen (bass)

The post Review: Sargassus – Vitruvian Rays appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: Power metal, progressive metal (Clean vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Stratovarius, Queensrÿche, Fates Warning
Country: Texas, United States
Release date: 27 June 2025

As any musician knows, actually writing music is only part of the album cycle. To craft a successful record, deep thought must be given to the recording process, the mixing, and the mastering, otherwise there’s a much slimmer chance of your vision truly coming to life. Texas prog metallers Transcendence were quite cognizant of this when penning their planned-for-2020 record, Nothing Etched in Stone. Intended to be a singular piece, recording and mastering issues surfaced from the constraints of the pandemic. After five years, the group has finally gotten the chance to re-record and distribute the album, with the caveat of splitting it into two parts. Does Nothing Etched in Stone, Part I etch itself into the progressive metal monolith?

Nothing Etched in Stone effuses a classic heavy metal sensibility—glimpses of Queensrÿche emerge in vocalist Brian Dixon’s timbre and in the straightforward, riff-heavy approach to songwriting. Choruses are the compositional focal point, as the surrounding sections serve as a buildup to these moments led along by the vocals. In many cases, Transcendence feels more closely aligned with power metal than it does progressive metal with its relatively compact runtimes, focus on melody over technicality, and energetic sensibilities.

The lack of showboating or complex song structures is not to say, however, that Nothing Etched in Stone is a dull or featureless listen. The vocals in particular are a standout, Dixon imbuing his performance with charisma and energy. On “Take Control”, he takes on a Timo Kotipelto-style (Stratovarius) approach full of excitement and large melodies, while “One Fear” interplays djenty grooves with brooding vocal lines. Closing ballad “Ruins… Before the Dawn” best showcases Dixon’s versatility, as he is given room to both pull back and punctuate: the harpsichord plays nicely with his varied performance, shining a light on the more delicate aspects of his voice and juxtaposing the more in-your-face lines from previous tracks with an impassioned and heartfelt atmosphere.

Ironically, though, many of the tracks in between end up falling flat precisely because of Dixon’s energy. Despite his charisma and distinctive timbre, there is a sense of homogeneity as his execution sits at a single level across almost all of Nothing Etched in Stone. “Ruins… Before the Dawn” is the central exception to this rule, indicating that Transcendence are fully capable of writing dynamic and layered pieces if they so choose to. Maintaining the excitement of the first two tracks is challenging without any variation; in the case of Nothing Etched in Stone, little room is given for more delicate, restrained passages and virtually no extra oomph is given to climaxes. As a consequence, the record is rendered a bit stale for most of its runtime.

The backing instruments don’t fare much better, often lacking the charisma or prominence of the vocals. Transcendence’s chorus-focused approach means that in many instances, the music becomes an afterthought, particularly when taking into account the overabundant mid-paced tempo comprising the bulk of the album’s runtime. The pacing is also done no favors by the relatively pointless intro track, nor is it helped by the two consecutive interludes before “Ruins”, which do little more than derail the album’s compositional arc. However, the band manage to break out of their confines on occasion, whether it be the surprising instrumental switch-up halfway through “Last Solstice”, the melodic, high-energy guitar leads on “Take Control”, or the temperamental djent grooves on “One Fear”. Additionally, “Voices in the Dark” features energetic guitarwork along with a solo which interplays nicely with the vocals, and the use of harpsichord and a bass-forward chorus on “Ruins” adds a tinge of baroque flavor. 

More so than remastering and perfecting the recording, Nothing Etched in Stone, Part I needs to be tweaked to make room for more exploration of highs and lows. Were the band to utilize more dynamics by giving space to recede in intensity or push its sound a bit further, the record would be a thoroughly enjoyable slab of chunky power-prog. Nothing Etched in Stone is evidence of Transcendence‘s potential as songwriters, especially when executing the dreaded ballad, but unfortunately, these highlights are marred by an overall homogeneous listen. Knowing that this is only half of the whole piece and pacing issues have already emerged gives me concern for the fate of the upcoming Part II, but I will remain optimistic—nothing is etched in stone, after all.

Recommended tracks: Ruins… Before the Dawn, One Fear, Take Control
You may also like: Pathosray, Conception, Enbound, Lancer
Final verdict: 6/10

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

Label: Cosmic Fire Records – Facebook | Official Website

Transcendence is:
– Kirk Wood (bass, vocals)
– Derrek Edwards (drums)
– Jeff Ford (guitars)
– John Howser (keyboards, piano)
– Brian Dixon (vocals)

The post Review: Transcendence – Nothing Etched in Stone, Part I appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: progressive death metal, melodic death metal (mixed vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Alkaloid, Opeth, Blood Incantation, Persefone
Country: Michigan, United States
Release date: 13 June 2025

You see the over-saturated artwork and read the utterly inane band name. You think to yourself, “Here we go with another over-ambitious sci-fi themed zany djent solo-project.” Oh how wrong you are. The Biscuit Merchant isn’t a djent band but rather a one-man prog death project from Ann Arbor, Michigan, and Tempora marks his tenth full-length release since debuting in 2017. From the name to the spacefaring artwork, there’s an air of tongue-in-cheek ambition, but beneath the surface is a sincere and sprawling attempt at progressive death metal.

Despite being most easily categorized as progressive (and melodic) death metal, the fusion of genres that The Biscuit Merchant utilizes on Tempora feels a lot more like a tour of the metal scene at large. For every head-bang inducing chugger of a riff (“Victorious” and “Tempora”) there’s a galloping, power-metal tinged melody (“Kill Time” and “Amidakuji”) or a wah-laden, classic rock infused solo (“Uncommon Enemies” and “Judgement Day”). The eclectic fusion of genres ends up sounding something like Alkaloid meets Xoth meets Opeth, but the gravitational force holding Tempora’s disparate influences together is its vocal performance. Both clean and harsh, the vocals give each track a catchy edge that goes great lengths in making the album feel cohesive, despite never employing any overtly technical or flashy techniques. Unfortunately, for as much effort as the vocals put towards making the album’s vast scope cohesive, the song structures do the opposite.

The eight tracks that make up Tempora fall into two categories: those that roughly follow a traditional song structure and those that don’t. My issue lies with the latter. Tracks like “Kill Time” and “Celestial Awakening” each make use of a through-composed structure that falls apart in the songs’ back halves. Riffs are thrown at the listener, and not one seems to follow logically from what came before or flow smoothly into what comes after. This style can be done well—look no farther than BTBAM or last year’s critical darling Blood Incantation’s Absolute Elsewhere—but its execution here is too haphazard. The structures of the album’s two longest tracks, “Judgement Day” and “Tempora,” are equally hairy, with the title track finale featuring an entirely unprecedented three-minute surf rock segment that almost made me quit the album entirely. Ideally, a through-composed track has some sort of arc that allows the listener to form expectations about what will come next, and the best bands know when to conform to and when to subvert those expectations. The Biscuit Merchant leans far too heavily on subversion.

Thankfully, when The Biscuit Merchant employs a traditional song structure like on “Victorious” (a shameless rip-off of Opeth’s “Master’s Apprentices”) and “Uncommon Enemies,” The Merchant delivers solid and easily enjoyed bits of progressive death metal. While the instrumental “Amidakuji” goes a bit up its own ass with the number of solos and the intro track “Temporal Delusion” is just an intro track, they too are solid cuts that don’t crumble under unwieldy song structures. Noticeably, these are the four shortest tracks on the album, leaving the vast majority of the record to suffer The Biscuit Merchant’s songwriting woes.

Tempora is certainly an ambitious record, and adventurous metalheads may find individual moments worth dissecting. But for all its energy and genre splicing, Tempora lacks the compositional maturity to tie its parts into a compelling whole. Hopefully, The Biscuit Merchant lets his goods spend a few extra minutes in the oven from here on out.

Recommended tracks: Victorious, Amidakuji, Uncommon Enemies
You may also like: Resuscitate, Xoth, Witch Ripper
Final verdict: 5/10

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

Label: independent

The Biscuit Merchant is:
– Justin Lawnchair (everything)

The post Review: The Biscuit Merchant – Tempora appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Artwork by: Anja Curhalek

Style: Progressive Metal (Mixed vocals, mostly clean)
Recommended for fans of: Riverside, Porcupine Tree, Haken, Dream Theater, Mastodon
Country: United Kingdom
Release date: 27 June 2025

We live in times of great extremes. I know, I know—what a bold and challenging statement. “Thank you for enlightening us, o’ hallowed reviewer,” I hear you say, “Don’t you have a Sleep Token record to be glazing?” Yes, I do. But first, I have to craft an in for this review. Extremes: they are everywhere, pushed by immoral politicians and greedy draconian billionaires alike. One can’t scroll five seconds on YouTube without being assaulted by clear evidence of the matter; everywhere, reaction channels gobble up the latest controversy, news, trends, horror, et cetera, reducing often complex scenarios to grift-minded notions of black and white. Nuance, like the dodo, has flung itself mightily from the cliffs of reason, choosing extinction over the existential nightmare Humanity has hatched for itself. Yet, for all my lamenting nuance’s ignoble end at the hands of hot-takers and corpo-grifters, there is an undeniable “red tape” surrounding it. And when the world is on fire and no one’s listening, sometimes there just isn’t time for artful conversation. When things are desperate, you can’t necessarily risk the message going over peoples’ heads.

Sometimes, you just gotta spell it out, like colorful alphabet magnets arranged upon the refrigerator door of our collective ignorance.

Enter UK multi-instrumentalist Grace Hayhurst. After six years of singles and EPs under the eponymous Grace Hayhurst, The World Is Dying represents her debut full-length, a near-hour’s worth of progressive rock / metal replete with introspective and adventurous guitar alike pattering across sonorous beds of classical piano and swirling synth keys that add flavors of 80s Rush and Symphony X’s neoclassical era. Energetic kitwork by long-time contributor Robin Johnson (Kyros) rounds out Hayhurst’s sound. For the first time in her budding career, Hayhurst brings her voice to the table as well, offering a straightforward indictment as she runs through a venerable Litany of Disasters and Failings on “The World is Dying,” before proclaiming “the world is dying and it’s our fault.” Prog has its muscles, of course, a capacity to tap into somber subject material. Yet often bands will lean into the poetic, the suggestive, when it comes to lyrics, seeking a safe artistic middle ground rather than go right to the throat of the matter. Grace Hayhurst has chosen the path of least resistance on The World Is Dying—but presentation matters much as the message does, maybe more so when dealing with music. Does she get the point across with verve? Or is she stuck screaming into a void?

Let’s start with the good: the music. Hayhurst acquits herself with general aplomb across the entirety of The World Is Dying, showcasing a fine ear for rhythm, melody, and composition. Her guitar shifts from crunchy, driving riffs, searching, Nick Johnston-esque lines, and bouncy prog grooves with nary a sweat. Keys create a fertile bed of mood and atmosphere, often tapping into the album’s darkest and most playful moments alike. The bass, while more suppressed in the mix than I’d like, nonetheless rolls about with purpose when presenting itself, possessed of a warm, buoyant tone that, in cooperation with the resonant piano skirmishes and Johnson’s lively percussions, gives The World Is Dying a jazzy flair and infectious kineticism that had me drawing sonic leylines to fellow UK progsters, Exploring Birdsong. Tracks ebb and flow smoothly across ideas and transitions; take “Our Forest, The Earth,” for example, moving from moody buildup of tribal drums and desolate guitar / bass, before a warbling synth line winds like a fuse before detonating into a jaunty rundown of prog-rock fun, including a soft detour into Tool and Gunship-flavored territory along the bridge as the opening motif returns, only to unfurl in new directions.

However, not everything in The World Is Dying pulls through unscathed. While almost every track offers measures of classical beauty and modern prog-madness, some additions struggle to manifest in winsome ways. While “Revolution’s” transition into baroque doom is pretty cool, as are the initial Sadness-coded black metal rasps accompanying the shift, the rasps take on a cartoonish, almost Donald Duck-vibe that completely jettisoned me from the otherwise good time I was having. And, sadly, that extends to the vocals as a whole. There’s a theatricality to Hayhurst’s breathy falsetto that, like Geddy Lee’s alien screeching on early Rush releases, has the potential to align with the music’s bombastic aims. Unlike Lee, however, Hayhurst’s singing lacks power, range, and finesse, often coming across like a karaoke performance. When used purely for vocalization, her approach works decently enough at bolstering atmosphere (as on parts of “And It’s Our Fault,” “Take Off,” or “Armistice”). But there’s no working around that her voice stands as The World Is Dying’s weakest link, disruptive to the otherwise pleasant instrumentation. Clarity also becomes an issue: whether the vocals’ placement in the mix, her style, or both, lyrics are often hard to parse—an issue when messaging is such a concern.

Attempting vocals overall after focusing largely on instrumental-only material showcases a measure of resolve on the part of Hayhurst that should be commended; clearly, she felt this material would benefit from lyrics, and I’m inclined to agree. However, while repeat listens have afforded me the time to hear how her singing fits into the overall architecture of the songs, first-time listeners run the risk of being shunted clear out of the experience. This is a shame, because Hayhurst certainly has an ear for how vocals can be slotted into her music, with the chops to compose and execute solid, fun prog tunes—and pace them, too. Despite nearly striking the hour’s toll, The World Is Dying avoids listener fatigue by virtue of every track (sans the pointless “Prologue,” “Armistice,” and closer “Absent Futures”) being chock-full of sonic evolutions and exuberant performances. If the vocal problem can be solved (perhaps by passing that particular set of reins to an outside source, as with the drumming), then I think a future release would have the legs needed to make a stand. Of course, she could also return to her instrumental roots, instead. However, Hayhurst has proven to have the mettle necessary to learn and grow to meet her artistic aspirations; this is simply another hurdle for her to clear. So, the world may be dying, and yeah, it’s our fault, but life is hardly over.

Recommended tracks: The World is Dying, Our Forest, The Earth, Revolution
You may also like: Exploring Birdsong, Temic, Althea, Haven of Echoes
Final verdict: 4/10

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

Label: Independent

Grace Hayhurst is:
– Grace Hayhurst (guitars, bass, keyboards, piano, vocals)
With guests:
– Robin Johnson (drums)

The post Review: Grace Hayhurst – The World Is Dying appeared first on The Progressive Subway.