Style: Progressive death metal (mixed vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Meshuggah, Rivers of Nihil, Entheos, Tesseract
Country: United States
Release date: 14 August 2025

“We all rip off Meshuggah!” Or so Devin Townsend famously said in his 2014 track, “Planet of the Apes.” Comedic exaggeration? Slightly. But Meshuggah’s influence and the proliferation of djent have defined a solid chunk of the metal released after the mid-aughts. Our boy Justin dove deeper into the style’s evolution in his review of Atlan Blue by Antediluvian Projekt—a middling djent album released earlier this year—but suffice it to say that numerous artists have added a couple of strings to their guitars and embraced those chunky, polyrhythmic grooves. And though in recent times many bands have adopted djent and its features as a weapon in their sonic arsenals rather than as a core part of their identity, the style remains prominent. Hell, even the latest Muse single, “Unraveling,” includes a gratuitous djent passage.

This brings us to progressive death metallers Kallias and their latest release, Digital Plague. The album’s story—one of humanity’s unhealthy digital obsession, technological overreach, and the ongoing pattern of creation and destruction—is given life by, you guessed it: big, heavy, djent riffs. As the band put it, “Think if Meshuggah scored Blade Runner.” Eight-string guitars in hand, Kallias ravage their way through the tracks with the intensity of a helicopter blade. But, while Meshuggah might be their most apparent influence, the band wield djent as one tool in their prog-death toolkit—technical chops, cinematic orchestrations and synths, odd time signatures, and diverse vocals all coalesce in a fresh and shockingly accessible release.

Kallias’s strength lies in the balance they strike between heavy chugs, progressive flair, and hooky passages, and nowhere is this more apparent than in standout track “Null Space.” Within the first two minutes, we’re treated to a massive, choppy verse, textural synths, proggy riffing, and an earworm of a chorus that reminds, frankly, of a ballsier TesseracT. Still, the track sounds cogent and compelling. Similar can be said about the infectious opening cut “Destructive Apathy.” Frontwoman and guitarist Nicole Papastavrou backs up her fiery playing with ferocious growls—across all Digital Plague, she’s a force. Meanwhile, in addition to his consistently outstanding instrumental performance, bassist Chris Marrone delivers a diverse array of clean vocals that provide something to grab onto amidst the mayhem. 

Digital Plague’s tracks don’t stray far from one another, each offering some combination of dramatic intensity and complementary melodicism. But to help keep the album from turning stale, Kallias introduce new elements throughout. The title track, for instance, builds tension with staccato, bowed strings, and later features a soft, almost Opethian bridge. “Pyrrhic Victory” distinguishes itself with chant-like clean vocals that further Digital Plague’s narrative, eventually giving way to a big, rolling outro accompanied by cinematic synths. “Exogíini Kyriarchía” leans most heavily into djent, and “Shadow Entity” is more brooding and ends with a guitar solo that stands as an album highlight. Each track provides something engaging to catch the ear, while tight and often technical musicianship is consistent across the release. The rhythm section, in particular, is ridiculously active, forming a solid backbone while still delivering blazing flourishes throughout. 

Yet, despite the band’s instrumental prowess and constant sprinkling of new ideas, Digital Plague feels a tad formulaic. Each song runs about four and a half to six minutes and has a similar atmosphere and feel. The compositions are dynamic within individual songs, but show less variety across the tracklist—they all hit the same spot, even if striking from slightly different angles. Fortunately, the formula works, and Digital Plague is a blast. But because of this, the album has a high floor and a relatively low ceiling. Venturing into a few new sonic territories and taking some bigger compositional risks could have elevated the release that extra bit.

All in all, Digital Plague nods at Kallias’s influences while holding its own identity. Plenty of riffs will make your face wrinkle and your head jolt, but you’ll also find about a half dozen infectious choruses to sing along to. And although the album could contain more diversity from song to song, its cinematic nature keeps it engaging, the tracks stand strongly on their own, and the performances are ferocious. Basic Meshuggah worship this is not. We’ve sure come a long way since HevyDevy’s proclamation.

Recommended tracks: Destructive Apathy, Null Space, Shadow Entity
You may also like: Soreption, Aversed, Subterranean Lava Dragon, Daedric
Final verdict: 7/10

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

Label: Independent

Kallias is:
– Nicole Papastavrou (guitars, vocals)
– Chris Marrone (bass, vocals)
– Justin Gogan (drums)
– Erik Ryde (guitars)
With guests:
– Chaney Crabb of Entheos (vocals, “Destructive Apathy”)
– Ian Waye of Soreption (guitars)

The post Review: Kallias – Digital Plague appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: Progressive death metal (harsh vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Blood Incantation, Death, Morbid Angel
Country: Florida, United States
Release date: 25 July 2025

Between the summers of 2017 and 2018, I had the misfortune of living in the oppressively muggy hellscape that is Jacksonville, Florida. I was in my mid-twenties, fresh out of law school, and ready to complete a year-long gig that happened to be based there. Surely the coastal city—geographically one of the largest in the United States—has some nice areas and redeeming qualities, but those aren’t what I remember. No, the Dirty J was home to a dilapidated downtown area, characterless suburban sprawl, a rash of severe storms, and incessant swampy heat. I really can’t think of a better setting to inspire some winding, gritty, feverish death metal. And that’s exactly what we get from Jacksonville’s own Haxprocess.

The band’s sophomore album, Beyond What Eyes Can See, offers forty-five minutes of progressive death metal packed into four meaty tracks. Drawing clear inspiration from Blood Incantation, these Floridians place psychedelic twists among wandering riffs, all given life by a warm, old-school-tinged production. Haxprocess’s sound is heavy, but at the same time open and expansive—much like their overstretched hometown. In case you couldn’t tell, I wasn’t a fan of my year in Jacksonville. Will Beyond What Eyes Can See bring something good out of that godforsaken city?

Haxprocess’s style of death metal can be distilled down to two words: riff salad. Countless riffs comprise the band’s long, freeform compositions, frequently taking a core idea and permuting it several times over—rhythmically, in phrasing, and in texture. A captivating dual-guitar attack characterizes Beyond What Eyes Can See, as one guitar often strays from the other, comes back with harmonization, or unites fully for emphasis. The album holds plenty of strong leads and solos as well. Although the drums are consistently shifting and grooving, and the bass occasionally pokes out with some runs of its own, the guitars are clearly the central focus, and the album’s better for it. 

Once in a while, Haxprocess cease the heavy, greasy riffing and stray into psychedelic territory. The final few minutes of “The Confines of the Flesh” feature a few dreamier passages amidst the fray, and “Thy Inner Demon Seed” comes to a halt about halfway through and switches over to an infectiously trippy section built atop lighter, swirling guitars. Album closer “Sepulchral Void” pulls a similar trick around its midpoint as well, offering a compelling bridge of clean guitars and emphatic volume swells. Although the airy passages are a welcome break from the serpentine death metal, they could be incorporated a little more smoothly. These shifts to lighter atmospheres aren’t the only sticky compositional points on the album, either—across all tracks but with notable frequency in the closer, the band come to a hard stop simply to switch from one heavy texture to another. Despite being four long tracks, Beyond What Eyes Can See can feel like an album of bits and pieces. 

In a similar vein, the tracks’ lengths aren’t always fully justified. Opener “Where Even Stars Die” does a good job of stringing together strong parts cohesively and varying textures logically, but the other tracks aren’t quite as successful. “The Confines of the Flesh,” particularly, tests just how many similar pinch-harmonic-centered riffs a listener can endure as it wanders from part to part. And throughout the album, many riffs begin to sound the same—a shocking amount end with only slightly varying, choppy triplet phrases. On the whole, the songs tend to be a little bloated. That said, the Haxprocess do strike gold now and again: the harmonized, drawling riff that closes “Thy Inner Demon Seed,” as well as the track’s psychedelic middle bridge, are prime examples. It’s passages like these that pull the listener back in and keep the album engaging.

Ultimately, Beyond What Eyes Can See is a solid take on riff-centered, sprawling, and sometimes spacey death metal with old-school flair. Compositionally, the album leaves a bit to be desired, and the tracks’ component pieces aren’t always of even quality. Still, there’s plenty of guitar work to enjoy, and the highest points are full of creativity and intrigue. Haxprocess might not have done the unthinkable and redeemed Jacksonville in my mind, but Beyond What Eyes Can See is more enjoyable than anything else I remember of that wretched city.

Recommended tracks: Where Even Stars Die, Thy Inner Demon Seed
You may also like: Ancient Death, Horrendous, Bedsore, Felgrave, Tomb Mold
Final verdict: 6.5/10

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

Label: Transcending Obscurity Records – Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Website

Haxprocess is:
– Lothar Mallea (guitars and vocals)
– Shane Williamson (guitars)
– Davis Leader (bass)
– Adam Robinson (drums)

The post Review: Haxprocess – Beyond What Eyes Can See  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: Post-metal, progressive metal, progressive rock (clean vocals)
Recommended for fans of: The Ocean, Steven Wilson, Pink Floyd, Alice In Chains
Country: Greece
Release date: 13 June 2025

Just last month, I was in Kalamata, Greece, my then-fiancée’s hometown. She and I had spent a few days there, and the next day we were to travel up to Athens, where we’d stay for a few more days and have our wedding. While lounging at a fancy Kalamata hotel and looking for something to listen to, I happened upon The Lotus Matter—a young post-metal group based in Athens who had just released their debut, In Limbo Pt. 1. This bit of serendipity was enough to give them a try. Fittingly, the album ended up accompanying me on the drive to Athens and during the little time I had to explore the city before the big day. For better or worse, in my brain, In Limbo is now inextricably tied to the most notable time of my life. An odd pairing with the start of marital bliss, but that’s how things go.  

Although The Lotus Matter play a style that’s categorizable as post-metal, a mishmash of influences make its way into the music. With surprising accuracy, the band describe their sound as including aspects of The Ocean, Porcupine Tree, Alice In Chains, Opeth, Radiohead, and others. More than anything, though, The Lotus Matter are ambitious and not afraid of sonic exploration. In Limbo Pt. 1 holds only five tracks, one being a seventeen-minute epic, and a roster of guest musicians that’d be robust for even a well-established band. Does this group of young Athenians, who now happen to own the mental soundtrack to my marriage, pull it all off—or have they spoiled my matrimonial memories?

A lush, atmospheric opener primarily of piano chords, light synths, and female vocals—building into a passage of swelling strings—immediately draws in the ears and provides a promising start. “Into the Bone” then follows, with riffs and ambience sounding somewhere between Steven Wilson and The Ocean. Color me impressed. Quickly apparent is the band’s ability to create enticing, intricate soundscapes filled with music that finds a balance between progressive and accessible. The bridge of “Into the Bone” is particularly strong, offering layered vocal melodies, modern-era Opethian guitars complemented by jazzy piano, and some play with the meter. The spirit of sonic exploration is furthered in the penultimate track “Run,Rest,Return,” a seventeen-minute epic that morphs slowly across several influences. Whether it’s post-rock atmospherics, heavier riffing, proggy synths backed by groovy bass, a soulful Gilmour-esque solo, grungy belting followed later by Radiohead-like vocal apathy, or swingy 3/4 with female vocals oooing and ahhing á la The Dark Side of the Moon, The Lotus Matter find a way to work it in without being too jarring. The track is quite the ride. 

The ambition showcased in In Limbo, however, comes at a cost. While “Run,Rest,Return” is a success overall, some of the proggier parts in its first half feel as if they were thrown in to add complexity rather than contribute to the song as a whole. Meanwhile, the strong riffing and compelling Alice In Chains-inspired vocals in “Erased?” are somewhat squandered by the track’s awkward rhythmic variations and transitions. The song seems to get lost within itself, covering too much ground without enough thought given to keeping its entirety coherent. It also features bagpipes that, while a fun touch, strike more as a gimmick than a meaningful addition to the composition. And closing track “The Shepherd” puts a lovely bow on the album, but contains another overtly Pink Floyd-like solo section; it too closely retraces the one in the track before, which was a welcome surprise that works only once. With In Limbo, The Lotus Matter are willing to take risks, and not all of them land. But the effort is commendable, and, to be sure, several of the band’s more interesting choices end up working out. 

Still, a few other issues hold In Limbo back from sitting among the upper echelon of progressive post-metal albums. Although the vocal lines and melodies are well-written and the guest vocalists are effective, the main vocals could use some polish and emotion. For music as expressive as that of In Limbo, the vocal performance is comparatively monotonous. In a similar facet, and perhaps an issue with the production, the band never quite explode out of the soundscapes they create or the tension they build—sonically, the bigger moments fall a little flat. This is especially apparent given the noticeable influence of The Ocean, a band that thrives on a planet-smashing sound bursting out of layered ambience. A more spirited vocal performance and production would liven up and enhance the album’s dynamic composition.

Nevertheless, In Limbo Pt. 1 is ultimately a relative success. The Lotus Matter swung for the fences, and although they didn’t knock their debut out of the park, they made solid contact. Much of the album is beautifully done, and overall, the band made good use of their extensive guest roster. Even if slightly messy and sonically lacking at points, In Limbo feels complete and compelling. The Lotus Matter have a high ceiling, and I imagine their next effort will see the rougher edges smoothed and a more mature sound. In the meantime, In Limbo Pt. 1 will remain an odd but pleasant enough matrimonial soundtrack.

Recommended tracks: Into the Bone; Run,Rest,Return
You may also like: Obscure Sphinx, SIKASA, Oak
Final verdict: 6.5/10

Related links: Bandcamp | Spotify | Facebook | Instagram

Label: Sound Effect Records – Facebook | Official Website

The Lotus Matter is:
– Constantinos Nyktas (guitar, vocals)
– Giorgos Petsangourakis (guitar)
– Aggelos Bracholli (keys, vocals)
– Panagiotis Vekiloglou (bass, vocals)
With guests:
– Lazaros Papageorgiou (drums)
– Katerina Charalampopoulou (lead vocals on “In Limbo,” backing vocals on “Into The Bone” and “Run,Rest,Return”)
– Stavrialena Gontzou (backing vocals on “Into The Bone” and “Run,Rest,Return”)
– Kostas Trakadas (trumpet on “Run,Rest,Return”)
– Konstantinos Lazos (bagpipes on “Erased?”)
– Aggeliki Ikonomou (violin on “In Limbo”)
– Nikos Firgiolas (viola on “In Limbo”)
– Rafail Kontogouris (viola on “In Limbo”)
– Marianna Maraletou (cello on “In Limbo”)

The post Review: The Lotus Matter – In Limbo Pt. 1 appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: progressive metal, progressive rock, avant-garde (mixed vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Green Carnation, maudlin of the Well, Orphaned Land, Opeth
Country: Israel
Release date: 21 June 2005

We’re now twenty years from the release of Subterranean Masquerade’s debut LP, Suspended Animation Dreams. Small in its reach but huge in its scope and ambition, this charmingly weird record has mightily stood the test of time, though unjustifiably forgotten—all dusty from the crime of aging, to steal a lyric. An eight-year hiatus would follow the album, as would the band’s triumphant return, offering a solid string of releases that notably includes Subway favorite Mountain Fever in 2021. But even with SubMasq firmly back in the world of progressive music, Suspended Animation Dreams remains mired deep in the underground. So join me on a subterranean ride through a bizarre, sonically marvelous cult classic.

Subterranean Masquerade’s approach to Suspended Animation Dreams is no different from that of so many other young, progressive bands: throw everything at the wall and see what sticks. Grabbing handfuls of ideas, sounds, influences, and compositional techniques, and then hurling them exuberantly into an album is practically a rite of passage. But miraculously, just about everything SubMasq throw sticks: metal, Floydian prog, lounge jazz, Middle Eastern folk, an array of instruments and vocal styles (including the most articulate growls you’ll ever hear), a massive roster of session musicians, intertwined lyrical vignettes tackling different aspects of the human psyche, and much more. These elements combine seamlessly into a listening experience that matches the album cover’s glowing shade of orange and surreal, half-sketched figures—a warm and mystical soundscape expands and contracts into different exotic forms but never quite actualizes into something real. The whole thing’s a trip. Let’s descend further. 

Though Suspended Animation Dreams was released in 2005, its production sounds similar to a ‘90s Dan Swanö project.¹ The fuzzy guitars have body but don’t attack the ears; the drums, vocals, and bass are given enough punch to drive the music but no more; and the myriad other instruments cut through the mix but retain authenticity rather than shimmer artificially. The sound is warm, not bright—a candle softly lighting a cave, not a floodlight bleaching its walls. Suspended Animation Dreams’ mix is key to its success, as the album’s enchanting compositions maintain a dreamlike flow not disrupted by jagged sonic edges.

And flow the tracks do, each wandering freely among various textures and styles. There are a few recognizable verse- and chorus-type patterns, but they’re typically repeated or built upon with new elements—a violin accenting the second verse of “Wolf Among Sheep (Or Maybe The Other Way Around),” for example, or added percussion giving a tribal feel to what’s conceivably part of the verse in “No Place Like Home.” More representative of the album are lengthy excursions into territories less familiar to metal albums. “The Rock N Roll Preacher” may begin with relatively straightforward metal, but it soon gives way to a smooth piano-led bridge and ends with horns driving a jazzy melody. Meanwhile, after some distorted riffing and leads, “No Place Like Home” closes with an extended foray into Middle Eastern folk, complete with wordless, chant-like vocalizations. Each track has at least one passage—and more often several—that extends Suspended Animation Dreams’ aural landscape in a new, interesting direction. The fourteen-minute epic and penultimate track “Awake” then flows gracefully through nearly all of them, covering an immense amount of ground while remaining comprehensible. This stylistic cornucopia makes Suspended Animation Dreams truly unique, even twenty years after its release.

In addition to blending diverse styles intelligibly, Subterranean Masquerade perform each with incredible detail. The loungey, jazz passages dispersed across the album are lush and full. Ambient touches, such as those in the title track opening the album, are well placed and draw the ears in. And the ‘70s rock closing the album in “X” is impassioned, featuring a brilliant, Gilmour-inspired solo. When the band lean into Middle Eastern folk, the result is lively and robust, making fantastic use of both standard rock instrumentation and an eclectic mix of woodwinds, traditional percussion, and more. Between all this, it’s easy to forget that Suspended Animation Dreams is a metal album at its core, until SubMasq remind you with moments like the infectious guitar leads bookending “Six Strings To Cover Fear,” and the tremolo picking and double bass lying beneath the track’s growled verse. “Awake” ends with similarly catchy guitar leads soaring over distorted riffing, offering a climactic ending to the track’s winding, epic composition. These passages aren’t necessarily “heavy,” but the bit of added heft provides excellent juxtaposition to the lighter stretches for a richer sonic palette. 

Suspended Animation Dreams’ instrumental and compositional diversity is nearly matched by the diversity of its vocals. Paul Kuhr’s (Novembers Doom) primary delivery is a well-enunciated growl, one in which you can make out each word and subtle change in emotion. These harsh vocals fit the album’s more intense moments while also providing an emphatic contrast to softer ones—particularly effective are the emotive growls over the gentle piano passage in “Awake.” Across the album, Kuhr cycles consistently among differently textured cleans as well, ranging from stylized narration to subdued, melodic singing. Soulful female vocals embellish many of the tracks, whether as backing accents in “The Rock N Roll Preacher” or by taking center stage through much of “Awake” and “X.” The ever-changing vocals further imbue the album with a dreamy feel: one moment, an articulate demon is speaking; the next, an inner voice is narrating; and soon after, a women’s choir echoes through with a sense of hope. Yet, somehow, it all remains coherent. 

Ultimately, it’s the album’s full experience that makes our expedition deep in the underground worth the effort. Beyond what Suspended Animation Dreams offers musically, its surreal atmosphere and sense of adventure give it enduring appeal. The descent begins with the titular opener, as Kuhr announces, “For the rest of the session, you will be asking yourself, ‘Am I going crazy?’” From there, a transportive magic takes hold as the tracks unwind, journeying the listener fluidly through different aural surroundings until unintelligible chants intensify behind the final guitar solo in “X” and end abruptly to close the album. This sudden ending is a snap back to the above-ground world left waiting as our voyage ran its course. I’m yet to experience another album quite like it. 

With Suspended Animation Dreams, Subterranean Masquerade charted a spellbinding trip that sacrificed nothing in its songwriting or performance. The album stands as one of progressive metal’s great, unique debuts, even if it continues to reside deep below the genre’s surface. Although Suspended Animation Dreams holds an unrepeatable magic, fortunately, the band have steadily released quality album after quality album, cementing themselves as a Subway favorite and a stalwart of folky, progressive music. SubMasq’s debut might have been lost in time, but the band remain present—and with four years since their last release, we’re about due for another one. If the last twenty years have taught us anything, we’ll be shouting their praises from the underground again soon enough.

Recommended tracks: No Place Like Home, Six Strings To Cover Fear, Awake
You may also like: Papangu, OMB, Seventh Station, Obsidian Tide, In the Woods…

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

The End Records

On Suspended Animation Dreams, Subterranean Masquerade was:
– Paul Kuhr (vocals)
– Tomer Pink (guitars, dulcimer, harmonica)
– Jake DePolitte (guitars, bass guitar)
– Steve Lyman (drums)

With guests:
– Kobi Farhi (additional vocals in “No Place Like Home”)
– Mike Sartain (additional vocals in “The Rock N Roll Preacher”)
– Mitch Curinga (electronics)
– Joe Chrisholm (trombone)
– Willis Clow (guitars, mandolin, spoken vocals)
– Andrew Kuhnhausen (saxophone, clarinet, flute, spoken vocals)
– Wendy Jernijan (additional vocals in “Awake”)
– Wayne Burdick (percussion)
– Yishai Sweartz (additional vocals in “No Place Like Home”)
– Sarah Pendleton (spoken vocals)
– Bronwen Beecher (strings)
– Susan Naud (vocals)
– Dave Chrisholm (trumpet)
– Ben Warren (piano, hammond organ)
– Samuel Johnson (spoken vocals)

1.  Dan Swanö wasn’t involved in Suspended Animation Dreams, but he would go on to mix and master both the first EP and LP Subterranean Masquerade released following their hiatus. What’s more, Swanö handled mixing duties for now-ex-SubMasq vocalist Paul Kuhr’s other band, Novembers Doom, on their album The Pale Haunt Departure, which was released just months before Suspended Animation Dreams. ︎

The post Lost In Time: Subterranean Masquerade – Suspended Animation Dreams (20th Anniversary) appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: progressive black metal, symphonic black metal (mixed vocals, mostly harsh)
Recommended for fans of: Ihsahn, Arcturus, Fleshgod Apocalypse, Dimmu Borgir, Septicflesh
Country: Georgia
Release date: 16 May 2025

The Progressive Subway isn’t just for local transit; our tracks are laid across the globe. You can hop aboard and ride to lands of Brazilian atmoblack, Norwegian prog rock, Canadian post-metal, Romanian blackgaze, Mexican tech death, or Greek gothic/industrial—and that’s just picking some reviews randomly from our site’s front page while I write this. In fact, as I look now, our ten most recent reviews cover bands from ten different countries. Progressive music is wonderfully global, and we’ve happily traveled to most corners of the world to cover it. 

But there’s still fresh ground to chart, and today the Subway has stopped somewhere new: Georgia. Not the U.S. state—we found ourselves there earlier this year, covering Tómarúm’s extraordinary release. Rather, we’re straddling Eastern Europe and West Asia in the country of Georgia, here to check out progressive black metal act Im Nebel. In their latest album, Hypocrisis, the band liberally blend symphonic elements into ten short, blackened tracks with plenty of progressive flair. It’s just the sort of thing the Subway was built to seek out. Let’s see whether the trip out east was worth the trek.

Despite its cold, dystopian cover art, Hypocrisis immediately strikes as theatrical. Its symphonic embellishments and dramatic clean vocals reflect a Baroque influence that brings a king’s halls to my mind, and across the album there’s a dark but quirky atmosphere—think Arcturus’s La Masquerade Infernale. Plainly put, the music is fun. This probably isn’t what Im Nebel were going for, seeing as the band describe Hypocrisis as “a bleak yet thought-provoking journey through the contradictions of modern existence … [that] explores the duality of human nature, inner darkness, deceptive truths, and the fragile boundary between the spiritual and the physical.” Somber stuff. Nevertheless, the twisted piano and staccato orchestral touches opening the album in “Prolog” set a stage that promises to be more playful than dire, and the rest of the album plays along. 

Standout track “Life” best shows off Im Nebel’s strengths: relatively straightforward but catchy riffs that leave plenty of room for symphonic elements to shine, a well-balanced use of harsh vocals and theatrical singing, and a compositional structure that’s not complicated but holds enough room for variety and surprises to keep things interesting. The track’s singable chorus is particularly infectious, with emphatic piano complemented by choppy guitar. In a similar vein, “Inside Out” also features simple but memorable interplay between the piano and guitars, as well as a melodic guitar solo that leads into a heavy outro with a mix of orchestral accents. Despite being the album’s longest cut, “Inside Out” falls just short of the five-minute mark. As with most of the tracks, it’s packed to the brim with ideas and would benefit from a slightly longer composition, giving the ideas space to repeat and evolve. But the short runtimes undeniably make the songs more accessible. And whether it’s the dark, music-box-like intro of “Corridors of Insanity,” the lovely acoustic guitars that fill “When Day Comes After Night,” or the riff salad that forms the center of “Smiling Faces,” Im Nebel keep Hypocrisis varied and entertaining. 

As enjoyable as the album is, however, its production isn’t convincing. The symphonic elements sound far from authentic or robust, and the core instruments all lack just a bit of punch. Unfortunately, this gives Hypocrisis an amateurish feel that undermines some truly interesting musical ideas. The band also seem to struggle with transitions. The introductory “Prolog” moves abruptly into “Where Horizon Starts” without any semblance of connection between the tracks. Similarly, “When Day Comes After Night” has an acoustic outro that clearly sets up the next song, but alas, the following track begins with a completely new idea, jolting the listener. Hypocrisis’s fumbled transitions aren’t just between songs, but also within them—”Corridors of Insanity,” as one example, builds enticingly through a prolonged intro, then right when it’s about to open up, a jarringly unfitting riff kills the momentum. All in all, Hypocrisis sounds more like a collection of ideas than a cohesive album. 

Yet, even with its flaws, Hypocrisis remains an engaging listen. Its quirky atmosphere, compositional diversity, and catchy, standout moments make it feel refreshingly distinct among progressive black metal releases—and on balance, these positives outweigh the album’s shortcomings in production and cohesion. Although Hypocrisis won’t have us staying in Georgia for too long, it was enough to make the Subway’s first trip out here worthwhile.

Recommended tracks: Life, Smiling Faces, Inside Out
You may also like: Lamentari, Belnejoum, Shade Empire
Final verdict: 6/10

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

Label: Octopus Rising (an Argonauta Records trademark) – Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Website

Im Nebel is:
– Grigol Lobjanidze (guitars)
– Nick Rukhadze (drums)
– Alexandre Gurchumelia (bass, vocals)
– Michael Lenz (guitars, vocals)

The post Review: Im Nebel – Hypocrisis appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: alternative rock, progressive metal (clean vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Anathema, Soen, Opeth, Porcupine Tree
Country: Sweden
Release date: 6 June 2025

Few metal bands have a body of work and influence quite like Katatonia. Over more than thirty years, the group has released thirteen studio albums and spawned about a thousand bands inspired by the moody, alternative brand of metal they’re renowned for. At the Subway, Katatonia is one of the bands most often listed in the “for fans of” section of our reviews, their name alone exuding a distinct type of dark melodicism. And say what you will about any individual release, but the band’s discography is legendary—moving from death/doom to gothic to varying shades of prog-tinged alternative with a nearly unmatched level of finesse and consistency.

Nightmares as Extensions of the Waking State comes months after a somewhat messy split with guitarist and co-founder Anders Nyström. Still, vocalist and co-founder Jonas Renkse wrote the band’s last two albums on his own and has done so again here, setting this one up to be business as usual. Some may bemoan this: following 2016’s phenomenal The Fall of Hearts, Katatonia’s past two albums were received largely as competent but not particularly inspired. And Renkse himself recently expressed some discontent with being the group’s sole songwriter, lamenting that it’s “sometimes very lonely; I would love the bouncing back and forth of ideas.” But any new Katatonia release is a welcome occasion, offering another opportunity to get lost in the somber and austere—yet strikingly lush—atmosphere the band has mastered. With Nightmares as Extensions of the Waking State, does Renkse find inspiration in isolation?

True to form, Nightmares holds plenty of engrossing synth textures, a groovy undercurrent of slightly off-kilter rhythms, and the gracefully restrained but emotive vocal performance we’ve come to expect of Renkse. Opener “Thrice” showcases Katatonia’s signature qualities at their most compelling, fitting a winding composition into a dynamic four and a half minutes that builds momentum and keeps intrigue throughout. Being perhaps the heaviest and most progressive song on the record, “Thrice” kicks things off on a bold note before the album settles into a sustained, more subdued flow. To be sure, the album’s intensity swells on occasion along the way. The brooding “Winds of no Change” features big, choral chants not previously as potent in the band’s music, and “The Light Which I Bleed” boasts a massive, strings-laden outro that plays on an earlier motif—it stands as the album’s high-water mark, though it fades out far too quickly. These aren’t the only energetic passages—the ripping solo in “Temporal” warrants a shout—but for the most part, Nightmares is gloomy and relatively lethargic.

Gloom and lethargy aren’t exactly negative descriptors when it comes to Katatonia, each playing an important part in the band’s sound. “Lilac” wields them beautifully, especially in the heavenly couple of minutes that close the track, where floating synths and haunting vocals accent a passage gently pushed forward by poignant guitars and restrained yet intricate drumming. However, the rest of Nightmares isn’t as successful in this vein; its tracks generally plod along without much variety or conviction. “Efter Solen” (“After the Sun”) at least offers something new, an understated cut sung in Swedish and grounded in soft electronica, but it’s notable more for these features than its impact. Ultimately, outside of the few parts outlined, I’d be hard pressed to pinpoint any exciting songwriting. In fact, I’d have a hard time recalling any other specific moments. The album sits in the ears pleasantly, though unremarkably. 

In Nightmares, you can hear Renkse’s apparent desire for a less isolated songwriting experience—it’s easy to imagine collaborators invigorating the compositional ideas, and especially giving wings to the album’s strongest sections. A few more layers to the back half of “Efter Solen” could have made it a standout; the motif and outro in “The Light Which I Bleed” could have been built upon and modulated to exceptional effect; and more of the delightfully detailed but accessible passages like those in “Thrice” and “Lilac” might have taken form. Alas, the album continues the band’s trend further away from engaging and resonant and closer to simply passable. Katatonia remain masters of creating a distinct, compelling atmosphere, but the once-sharp songwriting is dulling. 

Hopefully, Nightmares as Extensions of the Waking State is the closing of one chapter for the band, and the next is one of revitalization. Although the album is enjoyable, laying a few surprises and moments of inspiration atop Katatonia’s recognizable style, the need for a creative spark is clear. As with the two releases before it, too much of the album simply passes through the mind without leaving an impression—a shame for a band capable of delivering far more. Fortunately, Renkse has shifted the band’s sound several times before to great success, so it’s easy to remain optimistic that Katatonia’s next effort will have more staying power.

Recommended tracks: Thrice, Winds of no Change, Lilac, The Light Which I Bleed
You may also like: In the Silence, Oak, Ghost Brigade
Final verdict: 6/10

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

Label: Napalm Records – Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Website

Katatonia is:
– Jonas Renkse (vocals)
– Niklas Sandin (bass)
– Daniel Moilanen (drums)
– Nico Elgstrand (guitars)
– Sebastian Svalland (guitars)

The post Review: Katatonia – Nightmares as Extensions of the Waking State appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: Death metal (harsh vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Decapitated, Behemoth, Mgła, Ulcerate
Country: Poland
Release date: 18 April 2025

More than just about anything in music, I love a well-paced, dynamic album with seamless shifts across tempos and textures—moving fluidly between crushing and gentle, intense and restrained, dark and light. I consistently reach for the type of album that feels like a journey, a vast sonic landscape to explore at one’s own pace, taking the time to soak in its many different layers. When the record ends, there’s a feeling of fulfillment, like you’ve traversed a full range of winding valleys and jagged ridges and safely reached your destination. 

With the aptly named Tooth and Nail, Dormant Ordeal offer the exact opposite: an absolutely relentless, inescapable barrage of blackened death metal. This isn’t a jaunt through an inviting aural panorama; you’re cowering in your bunker as everything around you is obliterated. Each time you try to move from cover, another wave of ruthless artillery blasts sends you back to shelter. Tooth and Nail isn’t a wondrous adventure, it’s an oppressive onslaught. So why, then, do I enjoy this album so damn much?

Dormant Ordeal have wrought a distinguishable brand of death metal that draws from several styles and fully adopts none. Their riffs have technical flair but eschew the fretboard heroics typical of tech death; dissonance is wielded with a light touch, accenting but not defining the band’s sound; and melody is a commodity to be rationed for the moments that require it. The music is pummeling, not unlike Decapitated, and a blackened edge cuts through all of Tooth and Nail, bringing aspects of Mgła and even middle-era Behemoth to mind—clearly, Dormant Ordeal fit well in the Polish extreme-metal scene. What separates Tooth and Nail is how punishingly visceral it is. 

The guitars of Maciej Nieścioruk drill right into your chest cavity and violently rip you apart. Maciej Proficz’s gruff yet articulate growls then speak venom into your exposed soul. Seriously, any time the riffs in “Halo of Bones” or “Dust Crown” batter that lowest string, I feel it. The speckless production retains a vicious bite, allowing each instrument to wage war on your ears with poised brutality. The down-tuned, overdriven bass rumbles the bones, and session drummer Chason Westmoreland’s inhuman performance bludgeons and shines in equal measure. All this, combined with some subtle ambient touches, makes Tooth and Nail one of the most sonically addicting albums I’ve heard. 

Fortunately, the album doesn’t just sound excellent—it has the songwriting and performances to match. Subtle shifts in rhythm, well-placed touches of melody and dissonance, and vocals that are somehow both emotive and atonal give a thick atmosphere alongside the incessant assault. Always at full speed, standout track “Horse Eater” cycles tirelessly among blackened tremolos, somber melodic lines, and choppier technical riffing, all bathed in a slight dissonant haze. Westmoreland finds fresh rhythms to suit each part, while displaying incredible cymbal work that ranks up there with Mgła drummer Darkside. Flexing Dormant Ordeal’s keen sense of timing, “Orphans” holds one of Tooth and Nail’s best moments, delivering a perfectly placed and absurdly heavy mid-paced bridge after nearly three minutes of blasting. “Solvent” then provides compositional contrast, building tension as clean, reverberated guitars give way to repeated distorted riffs, whispered refrains accent Proficz’s growled declarations, and the drums favor the toms over sparse snare hits. But make no mistake, there’s no breathing room here. The instrumentation remains violent, and when the song opens up, the tension sustains rather than releases. 

If one song showcases Dormant Ordeal’s ability to keep their death metal barrage engaging, it’s penultimate track “Everything That Isn’t Silence Is Trivial.” Following a rare bit of acoustic strumming, the band unleash their entire musical arsenal, keeping the tension and intensity high while coherently moving through about a dozen passages. To highlight a few, there are noisy siren-like tremolos backed by machine-gun drumming, an infectious bridge that builds into the album’s most impactful vocals, and an almost cathartic melodic outro that resolves with a final bout of blasting. When the track abruptly ends, there’s a notable feeling of exhaustion from this overwhelming show of force. Fittingly, a short, moody instrumental track (save a few whispered lines) with wailing guitars closes out the album, allowing you to come out of hiding and witness the destruction around you—a perfectly bleak ending. 

Tooth and Nail isn’t the sort of album I typically connect with, yet I can’t stop coming back to it. Its relentlessness and constant tension might be fatiguing, and it could have ventured out to further sonic territories, but Dormant Ordeal turn these potential shortcomings into defining features—a concise salvo with the production to make the shots land. So grab your helmet, join me in my bunker, and brace for another assault. With the rate I’m returning to this album, there soon won’t be much left standing.

Recommended tracks: Horse Eater, Orphans, Solvent, Everything That Isn’t Silence Is Trivial
You may also like: Vitriol, Hath, Replacire, Slugdge, Sulphur Aeon
Final verdict: 8/10

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

Label: Willowtip Records – Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Website

Dormant Ordeal is:
– Maciej Proficz (vocals)
– Maciej Nieścioruk (guitars, bass)
With guests:
– Chason Westmoreland (drums)

The post Review: Dormant Ordeal – Tooth and Nail appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: Death metal, progressive metal (mixed vocals, mostly harsh)
Recommended for fans of: Blood Incantation, Death, Morbid Angel
Country: Massachusetts, United States
Release date: 18 April 2025

Although the old school death metal revival has been going on for years, what’s with the recent spotlight? Offering a modern take on a classic sound, OSDM-steeped releases from proggier bands like Tomb Mold and Horrendous have seen huge underground acclaim. And Blood Incantation launched out of the underground altogether last year, with Absolute Elsewhere appearing indiscriminately on just about every year-end list. Backed primarily by Millennials and Gen Zers with no connection to the original acts, nostalgia doesn’t explain the recent explosion—it’s not the same force that sends our parents in droves to community amphitheaters to watch mediocre tribute bands play the same few classic rock songs. Maybe the renewed interest is a reaction against what some see as an increasingly sterile progressive music scene. That is, a counter to surgically precise, rigidly technical, overproduced music that’s lost its soul (hey, I like that kind of music). It could be a desire to recapture and build upon the blatantly badass sonic aesthetic of late ‘80s and early ‘90s death metal—style is circular after all, and what goes out of fashion often returns.

Whatever the cause, the momentum behind this scene continues to build, and another band has joined the fray. With their debut LP Ego Dissolution, Massachusetts-based Ancient Death announce their arrival in a concise thirty-five-minute statement. Drawing clear inspiration from Blood Incantation, as well as the stalwarts of the early Florida death metal scene, these newcomers offer OSDM with a psychedelic bend and a slight progressive tinge. With OSDM in vogue among the metal underground, will the band join the new crop of old-school elite?

Ego Dissolution could easily be mistaken for a late ‘80s release. The production, although warm and clear, isn’t sanded down and coated in lacquer—its surface is rough enough to let the album’s big riffs scrape the ears. Meanwhile, much of the instrumentation runs through the OSDM playbook. Most tracks have some combination of frenzied, technical-but-not-”tech” riffing; heavy, mid-paced segments overlaid with early Schuldiner-esque vocals; and ripping guitar solos, but not in the virtuosic, guitar-nerd type of way. Drummer Derek Malone Moniz isn’t afraid to slow things down and compliment blasting with groovy kick-drum patterns, and an active bass guitar growls beneath it all. “Breaking the Barriers of Hope” and “Unspoken Oath” are the record’s most straightforward ass-kickers, each offering a clinic in effective death metal execution. 

Ancient Death’s psychedelic and progressive elements appear mostly through slower passages that incorporate grainy synths, mellow guitars, and, on occasion, ethereal cleans provided by bass guitarist Jasmine Alexander. Rather than take us on full Tangerine Dream or Floydian detours, à la Blood Incantation’s latest album, these passages are shorter and integrated more naturally into the tracks. The effect is tremendous, adding dimension to the music and making the streamlined death metal sections hit even harder. The atmospheric bridge in the middle of the ripping title track makes the track feel massive and complete; and the first half of “Breathe – Transcend” is simply spellbinding, a chilled-out swirl of restrained guitars, locked-in rhythms, and cavernous growls complimented by Alexander’s celestial singing. For a full dose of psychedelic atmosphere, instrumental track “Journey to the Inner Soul” appears to be Ancient Death’s trippier, less technical response to Death’s famed “Cosmic Sea.” Each time the band ventures beyond the core death metal sound, they do so tastefully, the passages never sounding forced or out of place.  

To be sure, Ego Dissolution isn’t particularly inventive. Ancient Death take no issue in putting their influences out there for all to see. The album strives by reining these influences in and spinning them into a diverse, coherent set of tracks with no weak points. By the same token, there’s nothing that takes the album over the top: Ego Dissolution doesn’t quite have the innovation or depth to be monumental, and it doesn’t need to. Of course, I’d love to see Ancient Death push their sound further and carve out more of an identity in future releases—they certainly have the requisite talent and innate feel for songwriting—but as far as debuts go, it’s remarkably complete. 

Ultimately, Ego Dissolution is a resounding success. Ancient Death package an abundance of influences, along with some character of their own, into a cohesive work that’s as musically compelling as it is plainly fun. Front to back, the album is rock solid and its short runtime flies by, urging you to go right back to the start for another run. Just one album in, Ancient Death already sit notably among the new school of old school.

Recommended tracks: Ego Dissolution, Breaking the Barriers of Hope, Unspoken Oath, Breathe – Transcend (Into the Glowing Streams of Forever)
You may also like: Tomb Mold, Horrendous, Undeath, Barn, Bedsore
Final verdict: 7.5/10

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

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

Ancient Death is:
– Jasmine Alexander (bass and vocals)
– Ray Brouwer (guitars)
– Jerry Witunsky (guitars and vocals)
– Derek Malone Moniz (drums)

The post Review: Ancient Death – Ego Dissolution appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: Melodic death metal, metalcore, progressive metal (harsh vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Dark Tranquillity, Orbit Culture, In Flames, Arch Enemy, Lamb of God
Country: Finland
Release date: 25 April 2025

One of the biggest draws to metal as a genre is the fact that, at this point, it’s hardly a genre in any meaningful sense. If you choose carefully, you can pick about a hundred different bands from different corners of the metal universe, and not a single one will sound anything like another—their only commonality being the overarching genre tag they hold haphazardly. No matter your taste or mood, there’s something for you within metal’s vast expanse: fast and riffy, dissonant and crushing, introspective and atmospheric, technical, accessible, melancholic, heady, visceral, you get the point. The more my taste matures, the wilder it gets, and the more time I spend wandering the genre’s outer reaches. But sometimes the monkey part of my brain pulls me back toward the center. Give me some groovy riffs and shiny melodic leads, and I’ll forget all about that eighteen-minute, dissonant, avant-black track in the queue.

Enter Echoes of the Extinct with their debut LP Era of Darkness. I don’t mean to paint the album as overly simple—it has some progressive leanings and blistering chops—but primarily, these Finns center their sound on big, chugging guitars augmented by melodic death metal flairs. Clocking in at an even thirty minutes, Era of Darkness promises a quick, satisfying fix of head-bashing music; something to knock those primal cravings into submission so I can get back to whatever pretentious subgenre of a subgenre I was exploring. So, how does this jaunt toward the center of the metal universe fare? 

Drawing inspiration from their Nordic neighbors, Echoes of the Extinct’s guitars fill Era of Darkness with Gothenburg-style riffing and leads, and the vocal delivery often resembles the likes of Dark Tranquillity and In Flames. The straightforward melodeath influence shines brightest during choruses, those in “Empathy” and “Virus” sounding like they were plucked right from the late ‘90s Gothenburg scene: riffy, melodic, catchy, and energized without being overly technical. Although generic, the band does the style justice. But these melodeath features lie atop and decorate a metalcore-tinged foundation of heavy, rolling chugs reminiscent of Orbit Culture. In theory, these styles should coalesce in an extremely digestible mix of groovin’ low-string riffs balanced by faster melodic ones, shimmering leads, and big hooks—something to get the blood pumping and the head bobbing. In practice, though, that’s not how Era of Darkness plays out. 

For an album reliant on groove, Era of Darkness never lets you settle into a rhythm for long. Right when a nod-inducing pattern begins to take hold, Echoes of the Extinct take you somewhere else—they either speed you up and abruptly send you back to Gothenburg, or move you over to a different set of chugs that don’t quite complement the ones before. The experience is one of whiplash, stylistically and physically. “Last Page,” for example, is composed almost entirely on top of chugs, yet locking onto the underlying rhythm is like playing a game of whack-a-mole. The middle of “Virus” similarly bounces the listener around aimlessly, which is unfortunate because the track is bookended by some of the album’s catchiest melodeath material. The guitar and drum parts in “Virus” were evidently written independently and then put together, and it shows—in fact, the drum-guitar connection feels out of sync throughout the entire album. Still, it’s the penultimate track “Conflict” that’s the hardest to follow, as an all too fraught combination of styles, passages, and rhythms is packed almost randomly into less than a four-minute runtime. The band manufactures complexity when flow is what’s sorely needed.

To be sure, Echoes of the Extinct display potential. Although far from innovative, the interplay between the guitars is mature beyond what you’d expect from a debut, and the most enjoyable aspect of Era of Darkness is how well the lead melodies play off the foundational riffs. The vocalist also turns in a solid performance, with his strong choruses and sense of timing bringing some focus to an uncentered album. Perhaps a forgivable sign of youthful exuberance, Echoes of the Extinct simply stuff too much into a thirty-minute release. As a result, no one part stands out. Providing the numerous ideas room to breathe, and giving deeper thought to how and why one passage leads to the next, would have helped untangle the album into a more coherent experience for the listener. Opening tracks “Remedy” and “Empathy” are the most comprehensible and come closest to that impactful, squarely “metal” sound the album was poised to deliver, but on the whole, Era of Darkness misses the mark.

Alas, my trip back toward the center of the metal universe was an unsuccessful one. The should-be-satisfying groove and Gothenburg elements of Era of Darkness are marred by disjointed songwriting, and without flowing more naturally, the tracks’ component pieces aren’t compelling enough to stand on their own. But, while I’m here near the center, I may as well indulge—Dark Tranquillity’s Character should do. Then it’s back to those outer reaches, to answer important questions like whether an experimental drone and doom metal track justifies its thirty-five-minute runtime.

Recommended tracks: Remedy, Empathy
You may also like: Aversed, Allegaeon, Burial in the Sky
Final verdict: 4.5/10

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

Label: Inverse Records – Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Website

Echoes of the Extinct is:
– Kalle Hautalampi (bass)
– Jarmo Jääskeläinen (drums)
– Juuso Lehtonen (guitars)
– Tero Ollilainen (vocals)

The post Review: Echoes of the Extinct – Era of Darkness appeared first on The Progressive Subway.