Style: Sludge Metal, Post-Metal (Harsh Vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Cult of Luna, EyeHateGod, Acid Bath, Khemmis, Dvne, Mastodon, Inter Arma
Country: United States, AR
Release date: 14 March 2025

Awakening from the Arkansas underground in 1996, Rwake are ancient, nearly thirty years into their journey at the time of this review, with a respectable body of work behind them. Rooted in sludge metal tradition, their sound fuses scathing hardcore vocals, mid-paced melodicism, doomy expanses, and tinges of death metal reminiscent of Acid Bath—a volatile mix that gives rise to brooding, multi-dimensional compositions. After a string of releases beginning with Absence Due to Projection in 1998, the band truly made waves upon signing with Relapse Records for 2007’s Voices of Omens, their most aggressive album to date. That release earned them a tour across the eastern U.S. and a spot at the Texas metal festival Emissions from the Monolith, lifting them from obscurity into the spotlight of the American underground. They followed it with Rest, after which the band stepped away, as personal lives took precedence. Over a decade later, Rwake finally reemerge with their long-awaited return: The Return of Magik.

Such a long wait naturally invites skepticism about the band’s current inspiration and creative fire. In the face of this anticipation, Rwake offer a lineup change involving Austin Sublett stepping in to replace longtime guitarist Kris Graves. With Sublett, the looming nods to traditional doom—shades of Black Sabbath and Mournful Congregation—have largely faded. In their place are more dynamic textures: mid-tempo rhythms, a gloomy but aggressive melodicism, and anthemic passages that at times recall the grandeur of Candlemass. Another notable shift lies in the vocal delivery. The Return of Magik trades out Rest’s hardcore punk snarls for a caustic palette of high-pitched screeches, broken only by measured eruptions of visceral, rebellious shouts.

The songcraft on The Return of Magik is monolithic and variegated in texture, with even its shortest tracks stretching just shy of the eight-minute mark. Structurally, the album splits into two modes. Three songs—”You Swore We’d Always Be Together”, “The Return of Magik”, and “With Stardust Flowers”—are more riff-driven and immediate. Following that are two sprawling epics: ”Distant Constellations and the Psychedelic Incarceration”, and “In After Reverse”. The epics struggle under their own weight, ambitious in scope but left wanting in their pacing, identity, and execution.

Within the style that Rwake indulge in, several key metrics define the greatness of a composition: balance, variety, pacing contrast, and an intuitive flow that ensures no passage overstays its welcome. “The Return of Magik” stands as the shining example of all these traits. It opens with tremolo-driven grooves, anthemic harmonies, and sharp melodic turns, before descending into a doomier section where bellowing punk vocals contrast tastefully with the caustic screams that came before. The song then circles back to a faster pace, closing with a final surge of urgency that ties the entire structure together. From the heterogeneous riffing to the overall balance each section brings, this track shows that Rwake are still as capable as they were the decade before.

The other two riff-driven tracks fall short of the excellence achieved by “The Return of Magik.” In “You Swore We’d Always Be Together,” tonal variety is present, shifting from dark dissonance to Mastodon-esque melodicism, but the pacing remains static, lacking the tempo changes necessary to create a structured sense of evolution. “With Stardust Flowers” carries a cry for greater ambition: the same ingredients that make the album’s title track so compelling are present, but the track ends too abruptly, feeling rushed and incomplete. Both songs are solid in isolation, but with greater dimensionality and structural expansion, they could have reached something far more impactful.

In the final stretch of the album, Rwake make bold leaps which stumble into drawn out messes. Here, the problem lies in failed experimentation. “Distant Constellations and the Psychedelic Incarceration” is an ambitious attempt at mystic intrigue that falls flat. Built around a spoken-word section that runs four minutes too long, what might have been an occultish—if vaguely hippie-flavored—atmosphere devolves into a long-winded rant that renders the rest of the track irrelevant. “In After Reverse” fails to a slightly lesser degree, pairing active riffing with a sluggish interlude. But that interlude, composed of whispered vocals and minimal ambient drones, feels bare and underdeveloped—an attempt at the quiet tension of a forest lurking with something unnamed instead evokes awkward emptiness. Both tracks cry out for stronger execution and a more refined approach to atmosphere and pacing.

Despite its fractured quality, The Return of Magik is a commendable return after more than a decade of silence. It is unclear if Rwake will release more albums in the future—but if so, then this album should serve as a moment of introspection. Let go of the ambitions of narrative-driven songs, tighten the standards for pacing and contrast, and lean more heavily into the band’s greatest strength: the volatile duality between harsh screams and hardcore snarls. There’s still power in Rwake’s sound, but it demands a clearer frame to truly shine.

Recommended tracks: “The Return of Magik”
You may also like: Mizmor, 16, Fange, Sunrot, Decline of the I
Final verdict: 6/10

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

Label: Relapse – Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Website

Rwake is:
– Chris Terry (vocals)
– Brittany Fugate (vocals)
– Jeff Morgan (drums, acoustic guitar, 12-string bass)
– Reid Raley (bass)
– Austin Sublett (guitar)
– John Judkins (guitar)

The post Review: Rwake – The Return of Magik appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

No artist credited

Style: Progressive Metal, Alternative Metal, Metalcore, Doom Metal (mixed vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Oathbreaker, Svalbard, Dawn of Ouroboros
Country: United Kingdom
Release date: 28 March 2025

One of my favorite current filmmakers is Robert Eggers. Across his four feature-length films (The VVitch, The Lighthouse, The Northman, and Nosferatu), he has deployed a sophisticated form of Gothic and Folk Horror drenched in bleak atmospheres and rigid historical framing, anointed in a blood-and-earth occultism pulled from mankind’s deepest, and darkest, spiritual roots. From this, he often conjures a visceral, powerful femininity at odds with patriarchal society’s desired—that is, demure—version. His witches are beguiling and primal, disposing of glamor for red-teethed hexcraft; mermaids tap into some mythic power to unmake man’s sanity; a would-be victim marks her captor with her own blood in violent defiance; a woman possessed of a spirit so emotionally resonant she can commune with forces across the cosmic gulf—and, so happens to be the only one capable of saving the very world which decried her gifts as hysterics.

Similarly, southern UK act Forlorn emerge as if from mist-choked fens to besiege our woefully ignorant “civilization” with vivid remembrances of Earth’s oldest nights. Inspired by horror cinema and headed by actual witch, Megan Jenkins, (in turn backed by her warlockian brothers-in-steel, Edd Kerton and Eathan White-Aldworth (guitars), James Tunstall (bass), and Jay Swinstead (drums)), Forlorn play a vicious blend of progressive metalcore and hardcore they’ve dubbed “folk horror.” Aether marks their debut full-length, following EP Sael in 2023 and a scattering of singles. Convinced by early releases like “Redeem, Release” and “Forsaken,” I was eager to sup of this witch’s brew.

Opener “Mother of Moon” establishes the album’s folk horror aspirations immediately with a summoner’s circle-worth of chanting and thundering buildup before fading into a smoky haze of silence. “Creatress” emerges from the silver-limned primordium like a seething nightmare, claws raking the bonfire-lit night with jagged riffage, cloven feet beating against the soil in a wash of energetic kit work as she howls her melancholy to the distant stars. The song is equal parts vicious and ethereal, with Jenkins’ plaintive cleans counterpointing her roiling growls. Razored chugs and tribal drumming give way to a brief black metal-flavored run of blast beats and rising tremolos, the bass burbling beneath like a promise sealed in blood.

This juxtaposition of haunting beauty and grinding, violent metalcore chaos is sown deep within Aether’s structure, yet no song feels derivative of its neighbor. “The Wailing” has a bounce and groove separate from “Creatress,” with Jenkins closing out on a moody invocation bringing to mind the hexen oeuvre of Gospel of the Witches’ Salem’s Wounds (2015). There’s something of Iridescent-era Silent Planet living in the throaty chugs comprising the main guitar line of “Funeral Pyre.” Jenkins channels the violent yet purifying nature of fire as she screams “I’ll see you all in Hell,” and pulls out some truly bestial lows for the song’s ending. “Keeper of the Well” carries whiffs of gothic doom amidst the grinding guitars, while closer “Spirit” completes this moonlit ritual with breathy gusto and visceral proclamation, promising “When the world splits open, I will be here” before intertwining with the aether of the natural world amidst punctuating guitars like ritual knives piercing flesh.

If I’ve any rune-carved bone to pick with Aether, I would point this particular rib at the “filler” tracks. At a lean 26 minutes and with only eight total offerings, sacrificing three to the altar of intro/interludes feels a tad wasteful. However, it’s hard to deny that, aside from “Mother of Moon,” both “Matrum Noctem” and “Veiled One” flow smoothly along the album’s leylines, to the point where I consistently forgot they were individual tracks and not extensions of their predecessors. I’m not usually one to demand more from a record, but in Aether’s case, I can’t help but crave more of this wicked mana surging through my ears.

Yet, if I’ve learned anything from witch movies, it’s that the longer a spell goes on, the greater chance there is of disaster. Forlorn have opted for quality over quantity. In so doing, they’ve ensured Aether never wanes. This choice encourages repeat listens, affording the participant time and space to really immerse themselves in the details, helped along by a punchy production empowering every element—from the emotive shifts in Jenkins’ voice, to the low-end buzz of Tunstall’s bass, and Swinstead’s tasty fills—to achieve maximum clarity and effect. The only victim here is some of the atmospheric elements, which can feel a bit lost in the fog, but if anything this adds to the fun of Aether’s replayability.

“Feel me in your skin, taste me in each breath,” Jenkins intones on “Spirit.”

Aether is a vessel of musical communion. A dark, beguiling fairy-tale of the Grimm variety, steeped in the primeval power of Nature and her forgotten children. Effortlessly summoning images of blazes in northern skies and deep, ancestral woods. A bridge back to ancient places from before mankind forsook the natural world and walled it away behind the cold, dehumanizing logic of modern civilization. Like Eggers’, Forlorn have crafted a viscerally feminine, occult work in Aether, one that—in a time where our mechanized patriarchal world feels increasingly hostile to the human spirit—offers the kind of comfort that helps music transcend “good” to become something great.

Recommended tracks: Creatress, The Wailing, Funeral Pyre, Keeper of the Well, Spirit
You may also like: Karyn Crisis’ Gospel of the Witches, Ithaca, Predatory Void, Venom Prison
Final verdict: 8.5/10

Related links: Bandcamp | Spotify | Facebook | Instagram | RateYourMusic

Label: Church Road Records – Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Website

Forlorn is:
– Megan Jenkins (vocals)
– Edd Kerton (guitars)
– Eathan White-Aldworth (guitars)
– James Tunstall (bass)
– Jay Swinstead (drums)

The post Review: Forlorn – Aether appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Artwork by: Dr. Winter

Style: Dissonant death metal, technical death metal (harsh vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Ulcerate, Artificial Brain, Gorguts
Country: Austria
Release date: 28 March 2025

“Oh, how I crave a sweet, aching melody. Pinch up the atmosphere with a tinge of sadness and let that melancholy wash over me. Give me an emotive, borderline melodramatic singer who croons and trauma dumps all over me because only that pain, that longing, exhibits the emotions that matter. Give me warmth in the darkness to escape the cold of my mental state and bring forth catharsis to my sorrows.”

“Sir, this is a Dissodeath’s.”

“…right. I was well aware of that, thank you. Would you perhaps happen to have anything with strong melodies, and an atmosphere I can get lost in?”

“Err… we have dissonance, sir.”

“Yes, yes, of course. Well…”
Glances at the menu.
“I would like one large serving of Pillars of Cacophony, please. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Right away, sir.”

Chuckles, faintly. “I’m in danger, aren’t I?”

Such a conversation may or may not reflect the process of me blindly claiming Paralipomena barely two minutes into the album. See, I am a melody guy. I want emotion, atmosphere, and vulnerability in my music. In a way, Pillars of Cacophony convey all of these things, but let’s just say that they do so in a more…visceral manner than what I tend to go for. From the get-go, Paralipomena melts your face off with stanky tech riffs, deep guttural vocals, and proggy drumming, all while sections of dissonance and strangely melodic harmonies permeate the songwriting. The record is versatile, too, showing elements of angular tech thrash, thick, slowed down riffs redolent of 90s death doom, and hypnotizing tremolos with a black metal tinge interspersed for atmosphere on top of the usual dissonance. Make no mistake though: pummeling your senses into mush is by far Pillars of Cacophony’s highest priority, and my weaksauce melody-seeking ass was not made for this level of spanking.

Writing about a genre you are unfamiliar with can be a difficult task, but certain things like production quality and structural cohesion are more universal. Paralipomena is fairly old school in sound with a dirty, slightly muffled lower end, fuzzy atmosphere, and organic guitar and drum tones, but it also maintains the clarity and polish of a modern production, which is especially poignant when the dissonant and/or black metal aspects come to the forefront. Some of the heavier, chugging parts also have a tasteful mechanical aspect, making them as heavy as possible without compromising on the cavernous old school vibe—I even noticed some pick scrapes! All things considered, the resulting soundscape is surprisingly light on the ears for how chaotic and vile the music can be.

But production is not the only component which makes Paralipomena so digestible: its pacing is also done quite well. Pillars of Cacophony will regularly drop the intensity completely for quiet, minimalist sections which relish in dissonance and, occasionally, melody. Sadly, these sections rarely provide sufficient musical nourishment—see, for example, the disappointingly underdeveloped Pink Floyd homage in “Mitosis” with a minimalist guitar solo that goes nowhere. But on the bright side, the mental and emotional cool down they provide from the onslaught is extremely welcome. This is much in contrast to a band like First Fragment, whose technical and emotional maximalism extends down to the melodic breaks, making even a masterfully performed album like Gloire Éternelle an exhausting listen. 

Cliff jumps in intensity aside, however, Paralipomena also shines in its frequent tempo shifts, keeping the listener engaged with cool transitions between different modes of neck breaking, thus allowing the band to smoothly incorporate all the different death metal flavors into their writing. In particular, Pillars of Cacophony do exceedingly well in releasing tension through slowing down the tempo for either massive, doomy riffs (“4 Degree Celsius”, “Retina”) or very deliberate, technical arrangements (“Cachexia”, “Landscapes of Permanence”), but are also capable of sharp intensity spikes or maintaining high momentum despite slowing down a tad. The pummeling did tire me out near the end, but for a good 80% of the album I was having a being blasted.  

Having just finished my Paralipomena meal, I sit at my table in silence, hazily processing all the madness my taste buds were exposed to these past forty-odd minutes. As I try to figure out how on earth I do not feel the need to puke, but instead experience an estranging form of contentment, that same waiter who took my order approaches me.

“So, how was your meal, sir?”

“It was…I survived—err, satisfactory in ways I had not anticipated.”

“Glad to hear that, sir. Would you like to order anything else?”

Chuckles, somewhat painfully.
“No, thank you—perhaps another time. I would like the check, please.”

With slightly contorted insides, I pay my bill and do my best not to stumble as I exit the restaurant. In the warm embrace of the afternoon sun, I make my way over to the local park and crash on the nearest bench. I open my phone and take a look at our spreadsheet to see what’s available for my next review, but quickly realize that I first really, really need to listen to some Adele to cool myself off again. What a day.

Recommended tracks: Of Plagues and Fibrils, Cachexia, The Discord
You may also like: Convulsing, Baring Teeth, Heaving Earth, Replicant, Anachronism
Final verdict: 7/10

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

Label: Independent

Pillars of Cacophony is:
– Dominik (vocals, all instruments)

The post Review: Pillars of Cacophony – Paralipomena appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: heavy progressive rock (clean vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Soen (pre-Lotus), Riverside, Wheel (the Finnish one)
Country: Canada / International
Release date: 26 March 2025

Making the leap in format from EP to LP is such a common pattern among the first releases of fledgling bands that it would almost feel unusual to see an artist take a different tack. Derev join so many of their peers leaving the proverbial nest with Troubled Mind, finally paying off the obvious potential talent shown by their slightly rough but still artistically compelling debut EP Leap of Faith. Derev bring a few influences to the table, combining some elements of heavy prog rock (think Riverside) with equal parts of dark alternative metal. Although I wouldn’t go so far as to compare Derev to Tool, the most direct analogy would still be to two other Tool-alikes: Soen and Wheel (no, not the epic doom metal band, the other one). At their most subtle, Derev perform with all the gravitas of Soen at their peak (it’s all been downhill since Lykaia, fight me), but the deep, dark tone full of bass and low vocals is just as reminiscent of the alt-metal edge from Wheel’s Resident Human.

My exploration of Troubled Mind followed the opposite progression as my time with Leap of Faith—where my appreciation of the EP has grown with the benefit of more time to digest Derev’s style and complexities, this new LP comes front-loaded with positive first impressions. The instrumental bridge starting at about the halfway mark of opener “Buried Voice” provides the first big highlight and demonstrates Derev’s significant strides forward in the maturity of their songwriting and recording since Leap of Faith. Their poised and careful composition already cultivates the same rich, clear tone found in the best parts of their EP, and Troubled Mind’s extra production polish ensures that every sweet or savory moment delivers its full flavor. The complex time signatures found on tracks like “Tides of Time” and “Room 9” foster a feeling of mystery and instability, and clever usage of shifting time signatures and interlocking polyrhythms thematically mimics the capricious visions of an insecure consciousness. The band’s other great asset is Adel Saflou’s strong yet luscious voice, which imparts emotion into the words he sings better than many genre veterans (looking at you, LaBrie) in part due to his great capacity for varying the intensity and the emotional tone of his voice. His performance is also aided by the lyrics themselves, which tackle poignant, impactful subjects like self-loathing, intrusive thoughts, and grief for a lost loved one.

Derev don’t hesitate to showcase instrumental performances either, as is particularly evident from the impressively intricate all-instrumental “Paracusia,” but weighty bass flourishes and rich melodic soundscapes of guitar and keyboard abound throughout Troubled Mind. The early instrumental interlude “Crawl Space” also sets itself apart, building a lovely cinematic atmosphere with synthesized strings and harp despite its short runtime. Even the drums get plenty of time in the sun, featuring several less common percussion instruments (such as the Middle Eastern darbuka which opens “Darker Self”) while weaving steady yet technical backing rhythms, a solid background that casts Derev’s cleverness into even sharper relief. Unfortunately, all their compositional trickery and self-evident talent isn’t always enough to elevate the listening experience of Troubled Mind. Outside of certain tracks like the aforementioned “Paracusia,” most parts of the album lack that elusive spark which would allow Derev to ignite their quality kindling into a bonfire, and as a result those parts remain pleasant at a surface level but unremarkable on deeper inspection.

Similarly, the lyrical themes can feel a little one-note. Although each song tackles a different facet of mental turmoil, they all take more or less the same approach in expressing their concepts, with a rich and malty melancholy mood accompanied by lyrics which dive into the inner struggles of whatever mental malady serves as the present topic, both of which would sound right at home in one of Riverside’s early releases. That said, the emotional closing track “Trace Within” stands out, flawlessly intertwining concept and execution with its lyrical structure and judicious use of a guest vocalist (whose name I unfortunately can’t find listed anywhere) to contrast Saflou’s dark vocal tone. Aside from the introductory verse sung by Saflou alone, each verse repeats once while adding or removing one of the two singers. First the guest sings the verse alone, then the reprise and the next verse continue as a duet, and finally Saflou closes out the album singing three lonely lines by himself—“To ease the pain / I call your name / Come back again.” The expression of enduring grief is palpable, each singer clinging to their few moments together and mourning their separation when forced apart.

In their progression from Leap of Faith to Troubled Mind, Derev have made admirable advances musically, but the specter of their inconsistent execution still looms in the background. Although never poor in quality, Troubled Mind’s later sections still betray the implied promise made by the early greatness of “Buried Voice.” The core elements remain the same throughout, painting metaphorical scenes of mental distress with precise instrumental tone and evocative lyrical description, but Derev struggle to replicate the impact of the opening track, with few, fleeting exceptions. The composition is clever, the performances talented, the lyrics meaningful and emotional, but without more demonstration of those transcendent moments the band is clearly capable of, it just isn’t enough to blow my mind.

Recommended tracks: Buried Voice, Room 9, Paracusia, Darker Self, Trace Within
You may also like: Diagonal Path, Inhalo, Traverser, Chaos Divine
Final verdict: 7/10

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

Label: Independent

Derev is:
– Adel Saflou (vocals)
– Armando Bablanian (guitars)
– Michel Karakach (drums)
– Stan Komarovsky (bass)
– Ran Zehavi (keyboards)

The post Review: Derev – Troubled Mind appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Art by Erskine Designs

Style: Progressive metal, death metal, black metal (mixed vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Ne Obliviscaris, Opeth, Insomnium, the usual suspects of prog death
Country: Canada
Release date: 28 March, 2025

To have flaws is to be human. The pursuit of a perfect art is fruitless and always ends in frustration (see Wintersun). Every one of my favorite pieces of art has flaws, whether it be written, recorded, or programmed, and sometimes, especially in the case of the masterwork of cinema that is Kung Pow! Enter The Fist, its flaws elevate. The pursuit of perfection brought on by automation and the proliferation of AI is a futile one that will end with safe, squeaky clean art. No risk means no reward, after all, and starting a progressive death metal band amidst a million others is for sure a risk in and of itself. You either need to be an established name or work your ass off, honing your craft every step of the way to rise above the Bandcamp wastes. Or, you could just be picked up by a blog run by weirdos.

Symbiotic Growth are still children in this field. Their first full length, released in 2020, showcased a trio whose game placed an emphasis on atmosphere. The self-titled LP sounds like its album cover. Ethereal in nature, murky riffs and atmospherics,  a strange, slightly muffled production choice that I can only chalk up to inexperience. However, it showcases a trio with a fair share of talent and ambition, creating sprawling songs that only overstay their welcome by a minute or so. Despite the slightly ridiculous song lengths on their self-titled, it’s a fairly breezy, forty-minute experience. A neat and concise package, serving as their way of elbowing competitors out of the way. But now, five years later, they’ve decided to go wild with it. Beyond the Sleepless Aether exceeds an hour in length, but will Symbiotic Growth crumble under that pressure? 

The good news for Symbiotic Growth is that, mostly, they succeed. Courtesy of producer Tom MacLean (ex-Haken), Beyond sounds much better than its predecessor. The guitars sound fuller and the ever-prominent bass of Aaron Barriault sits nicely in the mix, popping out when it feels the need. The drums sound far less fake and triggered than most prog-death but unfortunately tend to get lost in the mix beneath the layers of guitar when things start getting crazy. That being said, ‘Of Painted Skies and Dancing Lights’ paints a lovely sonic palette in the song’s latter half, with the band building on one central progression, adding some blast beats and noodly keyboards.  

Like their undoubted inspirations Opeth and Ne Obliviscaris, Symbiotic Growth structure most of their songs around central progressions, and reprise them when needed. While this helps ground the record, it also means most songs tend to drag on a bit more than they should. The riff that begins ‘Spires of The Boundless Sunset’ stays present for the first minute and a half of the song, and it’s just too simplistic to justify without a changeup. Thankfully, the band takes a note from Tómarúm’s book and begin a black metal-styled ascent soon after, complete with audible bass whines and clean vocals. The record needs more of these changeups, which are used too sparingly. When the same progression comes back after a minute of electronic buildup, I instead wished for a different section to add some variety. Repurposing sections can feel rewarding, especially in epics such as these, but they take up most songs on the album. ‘Painted Skies’ makes sure that riff stays in your head five of its seven-minute runtime, and 

Ironically, my complaints are subverted in the longer songs. ‘The Architects of Annihilation’ shows the band weave through Citadel-era NeO arpeggios and put their own spin on a nasty, Decapitated-like triplet riff. Closer ‘Trading Thoughts for Sleep’ is a welcome contrast, a doomy crawl toward the record’s finish line, sporting an absolutely wicked solo near the end. The song itself feels like the epic journey straight from the minds of the band members, exuding confidence in not only their compositional skills, but a clear vision of what they want a song to sound like. When the sections are reprised, they have enough changeups to make it feel interesting. Though, to detract, the clean vocals are not the greatest, especially on ‘Architects’. I’m unsure which vocalist is on cleans duty, but it sometimes feels like he is limited by trying to go higher than he needs to. His low register feels throaty and flat already, but the higher-ish notes come across as strained and weak, leading to some of the more triumphant moments falling flat.

Beyond the Sleepless Aether is a flawed record, and I’m sure even the band themselves are privy to admit it. Glimmers of brilliance, particularly in the epics and performances, shine through across the record, untouched by occasional patches of off cleans and songs that stick to their guns a little too tightly. As a result, Symbiotic Growth have made a fine record, and one that shows an incredible amount of maturity and growth from their debut. In just a few years, they’ve leveled themselves up a considerable amount, and perhaps the symbiotic relationship between this reviewer and these musicians will help their growth into something special. 

Recommended tracks: The Architects of Annihilation, Trading Thoughts for Sleep
You may also like: Tómarúm , Kardashev, Dessiderium
Final verdict: : 6/10

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

Label: Independent

Symbiotic Growth is:
– Dan Favot (drums)
– Aaron Barriault (guitars, bass.,vocals)
– Devin “Azerate” McQueen (guitars)

The post Review: Symbiotic Growth – Beyond the Sleepless Aether appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: avant-garde black metal, progressive black metal, dissonant black metal (harsh vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Thy Catafalque, Oranssi Pazuzu, Enslaved, Blut Aus Nord, Imperial Triumphant
Country: Netherlands
Release date: 28 March 2025

I know lots of music, literature, and visual art. I know plenty of music inspired by literature; literature inspired by art; visual art inspired by music; well all six combinations, you get it. Grey Aura’s Zwart Vierkant albums—Slotstuk is the follow-up and conceptual sequel to their 2021 album—are the first album I’ve ever heard based on a book that’s based on artwork. Slotstuk follows the second half of Ruben Wijlacker’s novel De Protodood in Zwarte Haren, in which our main character Pablo is seduced by the world of Supremist art—he follows his obsession by unveiling the void as his artwork, representative of the death of the physical realm. The concept is intense, inspired by the freakiest of the Modernists, and Grey Aura certainly have the appropriate style of music to back it up. So the question remains: is the music good enough to make me succumb to the void?

Grey Aura’s style on Zwart Vierkant: Slotstuk is intense, heady, and thrilling avant-garde black metal similar to their Hungarian peers Thy Catafalque. On each non-interlude track (there are three primarily Spanish guitar interludes), Grey Aura begin with a heavy riff centered around some warped idea of a melody, using varied and punishing drumming to force the track forward at a brisk march. Rhythmically alternating between a manic groove I don’t know whether to headbang or bust a move to and voracious blast beats, Slotstuk doesn’t stay still and proves Seth van de Loo to be one of the most promising percussionists in the scene. The guitars push back against the direct attack of the rhythm, lapping around each other in increasingly complicated circles, skirting around the melody, until they’ve nowhere left to go; in these moments, the music collapses in on itself, overwhelmed by the noise (my favorite example is only a minute into the album on “Daken als Kiezen”). Exhausting but satisfying, the constantly tense songwriting and dizzying riffs are an incredible tool to build tracks around. Grey Aura display an uncanny ability to shove full-fledged crescendos into only a minute or so of time.

Backing up the prominent guitar and drum parts is a small cast of different instruments. What stood out to me on 2021’s Zwart Vierkant was Grey Aura’s use of rather eclectic instrumentation, from a range of percussion styles to horns and acoustic guitars. All of these remain on Slotstuk but in subdued fashion; the result is a potentially less gimmicky sound. However, as much as gimmicks don’t necessarily make for good songwriting, Slotstuk is a tad less interesting. It’s a shame only the shorter tracks like “Nachten Zonder Dagen” have trombone and tuba because—let’s be honest—who doesn’t want those prominent on their avant-black album? Like the prior installment in the album duology, Sylwin Cornielje’s bass is produced fantastically and is the stitch keeping the self-fraying music together. Amidst the chaos, the chunky and often contrapuntal bass lines are all one can track to keep oneself sane, like on “De Ideologische Seance” or the brutal “Waarin de Dood Haar Kust.”

Clearly, Slotstuk is not for the faint-hearted—potent and harsh even in small doses. Ruben Wijlacker’s vocals make the already hard-to-approach album all the more difficult to appreciate. When I visited our blog’s glorious founder Sam in Amsterdam last, he yelled at me in Dutch to the effect of ‘turn that nonsense off’ when I put on my favorite comfort music, Imperial Triumphant. Well, being screamed at in German is scary; being screamed at in Dutch is just sort of confusing, albeit intriguing. This is precisely what Grey Aura’s vocals are, and I don’t really know if it works because they’re neither manic enough (something like Le Grand Guignol) nor varied enough (Thy Catafalque) for the style. Wijlacker’s vocals aren’t as impressive as the instrumentation around him.  

Just like his unceasingly shouting vocal style, the music can be too intimidating for its own good. Grey Aura play with dynamics—I mentioned their mini crescendoes—and they certainly have the cutesy little interludes, but Slotstuk is constantly a bit too overwhelmingly dense. For instance, while the blast beats are admirably metronomic, I find van de Loo’s usage of extremely intricate, almost danceable grooves far more intriguing. Moreover, the grooves don’t sacrifice heaviness but transfer the massive amounts of energy Grey Aura store into a more inspired package—when they’re focused on blast beats, they sound much more like a standard dissoblack bands than when the drumming and percussion is more varied.

Zwart Vierkant: Slotstuk can be as dense as a black hole and took many, many listens for me to grapple with its contents, and in that regard, it is an overwhelming success. It tears apart its own reality and internal logic as each song grows until the inevitable crumpling. The black void box is real. Although they de-emphasized several of Zwart Vierkant’s best elements, Slotstuk is a fitting conclusion to the saga of Pablo our painter, and I think I may have been driven mad trying to review this. As intended.

Recommended tracks: Daken als Kiezen, Een Uithangbord van Wanhoop, Waarin de Dood Haar Kust, Slotstuk
You may also like: Dystopia, Am I in Trouble?, Dødheimsgard, Arcturus, Hail Spirit Noir, Haar, Sigh, Schammasch, Skythala, Thantifaxath, Convulsing, Veilburner, Ὁπλίτης
Final verdict: 7/10

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

Label: Avantgarde Music – Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Website

Ruben Wijlacker – Vocals, electric guitar, acoustic guitar, synthesizer
Tjebbe Broek – Electric guitar, acoustic guitar, Spanish guitar
Sylwin Cornielje – Bass
Seth van de Loo – Drums, percussion

Ruben Schmidt – Cello
Alberto Pérez Jurado – Tuba, Trombone

The post Review: Grey Aura – Zwart Vierkant: Slotstuk appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: big band jazz, progressive metal, jazz fusion, djent (instrumental)
Recommended for fans of: Snarky Puppy, Meshuggah, Thank You Scientist, Animals as Leaders
Country: New Zealand
Release date: 24 March 2025

Prog is a kleptomaniac genre. It borrows from a range of influences from across the sonic firmament and prog fans will have heard a variety of weird and wonderful infusions into their rock and metal, from rap to klezmer to samba. But the two big genres that are most indelibly influential to progressive music are classical and jazz. Think Renaissance, Fleshgod Apocalypse, Wilderun; Imperial Triumphant, Thank You Scientist, Cynic. We usually know what to expect from bands that infuse classical and jazz influences into their style, but our expectations here at The Subway were rather blown away in 2023 by Haralabos Stafylakis’ Calibrating Friction. Stayflakis, a guitarist and classical composer, produced an album with a small orchestra plus drummer and guitars to create compositions grounded in the compositional trappings of classical music but utilising progressive metal tropes and textures; rather than making prog metal with a bit of orchestral influence, it was an orchestra with a bit of prog metal influence. Countless bands have tackled jazz fusion prog, but can anyone turn our jazz metal expectations on their head? 

Enter Chris Beernink, a bassist, guitarist, composer and audio engineer who has made the distinctly unprofitable decision to release a big band jazz metal album¹. In practice, this means guitars, bass and drums working on the rhythmic metal textures, with twelve sax and horn players providing the big band. The resulting concoction is less Ornette Coleman, more djent Snarky Puppy. Fans of the late Sound Struggle, as well as djent mainstays like Meshuggah or Animals as Leaders will find familiar metal flavours to enjoy, while fans of jazz instruments in prog will suffocate on an abundance of riches. 

Apocalyptic horns and gnarled metal rhythms make up the lion’s share of The Chimera Suite, so the moments playing against this tendency stand out. “II. Aergia” feels like something out of an Imperial Triumphant record, opening with eerie piano chords, restrained drumming, judicious guitar notes and some spooky horn work while slowly building inexorably towards a thundering, doomy heaviness. “I. Regenesis” takes a break for a noodling jazz guitar solo with quieter instrumentation behind. Though Beernink gives the requisite time for light and heavy to play out against one another, what’s lacking is respite from a generalised blunt force. “II. Aergia” is a softer track but it’s still somewhat dirging in its rhythms. The smoothness of that noodly guitar solo on “I. Regenesis” is the rarity, conveying a sense of delicacy much needed to balance out the heaviness. For most of its runtime, The Chimera Suite sounds like an angry swarm of bees in the best possible way, but it does threaten to wear the listener down.

The heavier metal ventures such as the doomy outro on “II. Aergia” are often the least interesting sonic elements, struggling to carve out their own identity when jettisoning the jazz. Beernink does like to throw in a thudding dirge riff every now and then—sometimes to better effect (e.g. as a rhythm for the horns and piano to work around as on “III. Event Horizon”) and sometimes just as heaviness for heaviness’s sake (“II. Aergia”). His bass and guitar playing is rooted firmly in the djent scene; anyone expecting the virtuosity of jazz fusion artists like Jaco Pastorius or Thundercat will be disappointed.

Opening track “I. Regenesis” feels almost like a jazz horn composition sitting on a metal rhythm section which was worked out after the fact, the two elements working complementarily whilst also threatening to tear one another apart. This contrapuntal polyrhythmic wonkery stays throughout, like a horny, over-saxed Meshuggah. “III. Event Horizon” opens with the madcap energy of the soundtrack from a chase scene in a 50s noir but, y’know, metal and chaotic, and it keeps that energy up for most of its nine-minute runtime, the horns reeling in their death throes at the song’s close.

In the middle of “V. Kleos”, the song goes quieter, allowing the horns to cavort and caper while Beernink’s bass chunters in the background. This builds to perhaps the most Snarky Puppy-esque section on The Chimera Suite as the horns rhapsodise in the space left by the main band exacting restraint. As the track reaches its finale, the saxes engage in a call and response refrain which becomes a rhythmic motif for the big band to bellow over before everything turns dissonant and Beernink starts hitting some low notes so heavy that one has to assume everyone in the studio had to change their underwear after recording.

However, as the track most connected to traditional jazz fusion, “IV. Fury Spawn” feels like the clear stand out of the record. The horns and woodwinds are less inclined to blast as hard as possible, the metal is less in-your-face—at least until the monstrous djent outro which suddenly explodes Car Bomb style. With the trumpet solo, the light piano work in the middle, and the far more deft drumwork, it could sit quite comfortably on a Snarky Puppy record up until that closing minute, and the lighter touch throughout the rest of the track works in favour of the crushingly heavy outro. Maybe I just prefer my jazz fusion lighter.  

Beernink can join Stafylakis as a composer pushing metal into brave new realms, his fusion of jazz and metal being rather unique for a blend that’s already been attempted a thousand times before. The Chimera Suite’s big band dreams are mostly fulfilling, and though it can fall a little into djenting chasms, these tend to be exceptions on a record that proves thrilling throughout. So come on down to the modern metal jazz club: smoking’s banned, there are no tables, and they serve pints in a plastic cup. It’s better than it sounds, I promise.

Recommended tracks: I. Regenesis, IV. Fury Spawn, V. Kleos
You may also like: Haralabos Stafylakis, Sound Struggle, Seven Impale, The Resonance Project, Sarmat
Final verdict: 7.5/10

1.  The Chimera Suite was created with funding from Creative New Zealand. A world in which douche-weasels like Elon Musk can gut government funding initiatives is one where we get fewer creative swings like this. ︎

Related links: Bandcamp | Spotify | Instagram

Label: Independent

Chris Beernink is:
– Shaun Anderson (drums)
– Chris Beernink (bass, guitars)
– Dan Hayles (piano, organ, synth)

– Jake Baxendale, Tyaan Singh (alto saxophones)
– Louisa Williamson, Blair Latham (tenor saxophones)
– Frank Talbot (baritone saxophone, contrabass saxophone)
– Jack Harré, Ben Hunt, James Guildford-Smith (trumpets)
– Kaito Walley, Matt Allison, Julian Kirgan-Baez, Patrick Di Somma (trombones)

The post Review: Chris Beernink – The Chimera Suite appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

We’ve got something to satisfy all tastes: versatile post-metal, the return of one of prog-death’s most underrated one-man projects, the biggest band in black metal, some minimal listenable folk, the comeback of prog rock’s main man, the comeback of the biggest band in poppy prog metal, some rather tasty jazz fusion prog metal, the return of the biggest avant-garde black metal outfit in the scene, doom drone for big fuckin’ weirdos, a cocktail of blackened hardcore, your monthly dose of dissodeath, weird Lovecraftian prog black, and a thing we forgot from last month! And in addition to all that we’ve got a bunch of non-Subway picks of the stuff beyond the prog world that you should check out. Surely at least one of those piqued your interest? Hit play on the playlist, have a browse, we’ve got choooons for dayzzzz.

Dessiderium – Keys to the Palace
For fans of: Opeth, Wintersun, Devin Townsend, Ne Obliviscaris, Disillusion, Kardashev
Picked by: Zach 

Dessiderium’s Alex Haddad has returned with a massive stylistic shift. Moving away from his love affair with Opeth, Haddad has opted to lean further into his JRPG soundtrack influences with a healthy scoop of Strapping Young Lad-era Devin Townsend. The result is a massive, sixty-two minute odyssey of computerized string sections, grooving riffs, and triumphant, belted clean vocals. A far cry from the murky atmosphere and black metal stylings of Aria, yet uniquely Dessiderium all the same. Keys to the Palace tells the cautionary tale of childhood innocence lost through juxtaposed synth swirls and the heaviest riffs Haddad has ever written. This is Dessiderium at its most maximalist and dramatic, but undoubtedly, the most crystal clear picture of Haddad’s vision for the project. 

Recommended tracks: Dover Hendrix, Pollen for the Bees, Keys to the Palace, Magenta
Related links: Bandcamp | Spotify | original review

Deafheaven – Lonely People With Power
Recommended for fans of: Lantlôs, Møl, Sadness, Harakiri for the Sky
Picked by: Dylan

Deafheaven’s Lonely People With Power brought back all the attention that the band garnered from their iconic 2013 album Sunbather. And for good reason, for it’s one of the most complete blackgaze LPs I’ve come across. From minute one, it’s immersive, epic, relentlessly heavy yet also intelligent enough to understand when to scale back and let the song breathe. Lonely People with Power includes some of Deafheaven’s heaviest tracks to date, which bring forward unbelievable performances from all musicians in the band. Its seamless flow and three-act structure make for a cinematic experience, phenomenal to close your eyes to as it swallows you into its exploration of humanity’s neverending search for power and the consequences it has brought them. Whether you’re into blackgaze, prog, or just music in general, Lonely People WIth Power will surely strike a chord with anyone who gives it a fair shot. 

Recommended tracks: Revelator, Winona
Related links: Bandcamp | Spotify | original review

The Overmold – The Overmold
Recommended for fans of: Krallice, Khanate, Sunn O)))
Picked by: Justin

The Overmold’s “The Overmold” (The Overmold) is a massive slab of experimental doom/drone metal that has ended up becoming my favorite listening experience of the year so far. Mick Barr (Krallice) and Tim Wyskida (Khanate) fuse together their respective brands of avante-garde songwriting to create a pensive, intimate experience. At times expertly restrained, other times explosively bombastic, “The Overmold” explores improvisation, dynamics and rubato in a way not often heard in metal and metal-adjacent music. Three shorter vignettes follow that allow the duo to explore their sound in a more structured environment, cementing The Overmold as a truly unique exploration of big fuckin weirdo songcraft. 

Recommended tracks: The Overmold
Related links: Bandcamp | original review

Steven Wilson – The Overview
Recommended for fans of: Yes, Rush, Pink Floyd, Porcupine Tree, Tangerine Dream, John Hopkins
Picked by: Christopher

If modern progressive rock has a figurehead, then it’s surely Steven Wilson, and while he’s been experimenting a bit more with pop and electronica feeling on recent outings, The Overview saw him return to his erstwhile home. Comprised of two epic suites meditating on cosmic perspective, and channelling a wealth of 70s classic prog influences and filtering them through his own inimitable prism, Wilson treats us to an odyssey through a variety of sonic vistas. On “Objects Outlive Us” the prog rock reigns while on “The Overview” electronica underpins everything, and the production throughout is the best you’ll hear all year. This is easily Wilson’s best album since Hand Cannot Erase (and I say that as a defender of The Harmony Codex and To The Bone), and it’s one of his most audacious musical experiments to date. 

Recommended tracks: there’s only two, but if you’ve only got time for one then go for Objects Outlive Us  
Related links: Spotify | original review

BÅKÜ – Soma
Recommended for fans of: Cult of Luna, Amenra, Neurosis
Picked by: William

SOMA, the debut offering of French act BÅKÜ, makes a bold first impression. Haunting thrums fill an impossibly empty space as the listener studies the psychedelic album art. They are swaddled in an intriguing, blistering cold. Synthetic chirps noodle in and out like sensory floaters. Drums kick in. A man hollers, and then a different man recounts the results of a sleep study. Such is the bizarre variety of SOMA. Each track is one of a five-part suite, simply titled “OPPOSITE”. Between the transient familiarity of post-metal churn, BÅKÜ gives us black metal riffs, a hardcore breakdown, an ASMR section (seriously). The composition spins a delicate trapeze—it is long-winded and entrancing without ever falling into dull repetition. Fans of heavy, sludgy fare who are willing to embrace the ordeal of post-metal will find a serious gem in this record. Those who need no convincing will enjoy a captivating take on the genre.

Recommended tracks: OPPOSITE 3, OPPOSITE 5
Related links: Bandcamp | Spotify | original review

Coheed and Cambria – Vaxis – Act III: The Father of Make Believe
Recommended for fans of: Closure in Moscow, The Dear Hunter
Picked by: Chris

I made it clear in my original review of TFoMB that while Coheed is my favorite band, I’d had some misgivings with aspects of the latest Vaxis saga of records between songs that were too long in the tooth and songs that fell too much into the radio rock territory. TFoMB felt much like a return to form for the band, and if anything I like it even more weeks after its release. A great record, it’s progressive in the sense that the band take themselves through a multitude of sounds and feels without losing the plot or their sense of self, and a return of more guitar based riffing and melodies really brings this record to a higher station than recent efforts. TFoMB maintains that Coheed feeling of a pop base hiding behind a guitar-driven prog rock veneer, and that combination is just too sweet for me to not gobble up.

Recommended tracks: Goodbye Sunshine, The Father of Make Believe, Play the Poet
Related links: Spotify | original review

Imperial Triumphant – Goldstar
Recommended for fans of: Gorguts, Charles Mingus, Oranssi Pazuzu, Blut Aus Nord, Ulcerate
Picked by: Andy 

My darling Imperial Triumphant are back with another NYC-themed opus, the package tighter and meaner than ever without sacrificing too much of their characteristic weirdness. Never shy to riff hard, it seems that the power trio have upped their game tenfold in the past couple years. With brainy highlights like “Hotel Sphinx” and “Rot Moderne” to counteract the brute force of “Gomorrah Nouveaux” and “NEWYORKCITY,” there’s something for everybody (assuming you can withstand a great deal of dissonance. Have a gold star, Imperial Triumphant. You’ve earned it. 

Recommended tracks: Gomorrah Nouveaux, Hotel Sphinx, Rot Moderne, Industry of Misery
Related links: Bandcamp | Spotify | original review

Chercán – Chercán
For fans of: Vulkan, Thank You Scientist, The Mars Volta
Picked by: Doug

For their self-titled debut, Chercán could be said to imitate a number of other prog bands, but the borrowed styles take on a life of their own in the Chilean band’s capable hands. Starting from psychedelia-laced progressive rock akin to Vulkan, the additional layers of saxophone and strings bring a distinctive timbre to Chercán’s sound, and a unique flexibility to take on a wide range of influences including the realms of jazz, folk, and beyond. Offering sweet mystery and romance, lively and uplifting jazz, and even some aggressive, almost shouted angst, Chercán is a thrill from start to finish.

Recommended tracks: Tiempos Paralelos, Relato De Una Obsesión (both parts), 7 Colores
Related links: Bandcamp | Spotify | original review

Smiqra – Rɡyaɡ̇dźé!
Recommended for fans of: Ὁπλίτης, Car Bomb, Blut Aus Nord, Plebeian Grandstand, Frontierer
Picked by: Cooper

Ever since Ὁπλίτης’s 2024 masterpiece Π​α​ρ​α​μ​α​ι​ν​ο​μ​έ​ν​η, I’ve been on the lookout for new releases from the black metal mastermind J.L. behind the album, but it turns out he thought he could trick me by releasing music under a different name! Thankfully, I’m much too clever because J.L. (now called Smiqra) picks up right where Π​α​ρ​α​μ​α​ι​ν​ο​μ​έ​ν​η left off with Rɡyaɡ̇dźé!, but instead of the primal mysticism that ran through the last album, this new album is fraught with raw intensity. Pounding drums, shrieking sax and synthesizers, and angular guitars combine into a slurry of hardcore and black metal that knocks the listener down and keeps kicking.

Recommended tracks: qa-si-re-u!
Related links: Bandcamp | Spotify | original review

Burning Palace – Elegy
Recommended for fans of: Ulcerate, Artificial Brain
Picked by: Andy

Dissodeath can sometimes get a bit lost in the ambiance and forget the death metal part. Burning Palace sure haven’t. While cerebral time signature changes and alien guitar parts, the group relentlessly punish with shockingly heavy riffs from the Replicant and Wormhole school of dissonance. With Ulcerate-ish cracks of melody seeping through, Elegy’s got it all. A fine hour for dissodeath and riff lovers, indeed.

Recommended tracks: Malignant Dogma, Awakening Extinction (Eternal Eclipse), Sunken Veil, Elegy
Related links: Bandcamp | Spotify | original review coming soon

Cthuluminati – Tentacula
Recommended for fans of: Oranssi Pazuzu, Ved Buens Ende, A Forest of Stars, Arcturus, Enslaved
Picked by: Sam

To those who’ve spent enough time on the internet, the idea of silly tentacles touching you all over the place has rather…sensual connotations, but on Tentacula I promise that you can rest assured because this sensuality goes no further than the ears. The goofy goobers at Cthuluminati have spread their tentacles across a multitude of disparate genres: from black metal, to psychedelic rock, to post-metal, to horror synth, and of course, prog. Molded in unpredictable, yet strongly cohesive songwriting with glorious peaks and enthrallingly spooky valleys, Tentacula is a bewildering album in all the right ways.

Recommended tracks: Cthrl, Abysmal Quatrain, The Illusion of Control
Related links: Bandcamp | Spotify | original review

Wÿntër Ärvń – Sous l’Orage Noir – L’Astre et la Chute
Recommended for fans of: Empyrium, Vàli, Ulver’s Kveldssanger, The Moon and the Nightspirit
Picked by: Dave

Like Wardruna’s Birna back in January, Sous l’Orage Noir – L’Astre et la Chute has been a soothing balm for me in a period of duress and uncertainty. Sous l’Orage Noir is comprised of dark folk compositions that wind around pastoral ideas, occasionally stretching its tendrils into darker and more ominous territories through the use of sharp dissonance and harsh vocals. Even in the face of its more intense elements, Sous l’Orage Noir never loses its sense of delicacy as each track gingerly moves from idea to idea; the backing instruments gently introduce texture to the pieces and often engage in elegant dance with the guitars through counterpoint. Additionally, the vocal performances are all spectacular, whether it be Wÿntër Ärvń’s harshes, Judith de Lotharingie’s clean vocals, or the myriad chants that accentuate passages. Overall, Sous l’Orage Noir is an endlessly replayable and forward-thinking record that stretches just that bit more into dark folk’s black metal roots.

Recommended tracks: Un Voile sur l’Azur, Appelé à l’Abîme, Vingt Ans de Brouillard, Ad Umbras
Related links: Bandcamp | Spotify | original review

Havukruunu – Tavastland
Recommended for fans of: Grima, Saor, Moonsorrow
Picked by: Daniel

[Editor’s note: February release but, as Daniel says, he didn’t get to it ’til March. I tried disciplining him but if anything he enjoyed the caning]

Since Tavastland arrived on the last day of February, I didn’t really get to sit with it until March. But from the moment the choral chant hit in the opening track, “Kuolematon Laulunhenki,” I felt something primal stir—a tribal feeling, resonating deep in my bones. That instinctual pull only grew stronger as the album unfolded. Towering, chest-thumping riffs; soaring, melodic solos that are memorable and even singable; raw, harsh vocals that snarl and yet are somehow strangely melodic—all give Tavastland a solid foundation that would make this a stellar black metal release with just those elements, but it does so much more. The production and mastering are some of the best I’ve ever heard in the genre, retaining that black metal coarseness but still crystal clear and giving every instrument and vocal element its rightful place in the mix—everything shines when it needs to, and nothing feels overcrowded. And of course, the recurring choral passages that cut like sunlight through a forest canopy lend the whole LP a ritualistic majesty.

Recommended tracks: Kuolematon Laulunhenki, Yönsynty, Kuoleman Oma
Related links: Bandcamp | Spotify | original review

Non-Subway Picks

clipping. – Dead Channel Sky (experimental hip hop)
Not quite as cohesive or experimental as some of their earlier oeuvre, Dead Channel Sky is nonetheless a solid addition to clipping.‘s discography. clipping. are as punchy as ever.
[picked by: Ishmael]

Warbringer – Wrath and Ruin (thrash metal)
Now and then, I go on a kick where I just want some fast, heavy, straight-up metal ruining my eardrums. Warbringer absolutely delivers on this and more, unleashing a barrage of heavy thrash with the pacing and compositional variety to make Wrath and Ruin a holistic ass-kicker.
[picked by: Cory] 

Jefre Cantu-Ledesma – Giftsongs (ambient)
Through a hellish midterm season, I basically only listened to ambient and classical minimalism for a week straight. This gorgeous release got a lot of airtime, its delicate piano parts and sprawling compositional style perfect for zoning out to.
[picked by: Andy] 

Hexecutor – …Where Spirit Withers in Its Flesh Constraint (black metal/thrash metal)
Hexecutor continues their streak of being one of the most consistently above average bands in the black/thrash scene. …Where Spirit Withers in Its Flesh Constraint is a triumphant standout within the genre. Plus, that logo is awesome, isn’t it?
[picked by: Justin]

Devin Townsend – The Moth (progressive metal)
This one technically hasn’t found a studio release yet and we’ll review it when it does, but myself and Cory both caught the live stream and hoo-boy what an accomplishment! You can pay for the stream via onair.events and if you’re a Devy fan and haven’t, believe me, it’s worth it.
[picked by: Christopher]

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

Style: Progressive death metal, technical death metal (Mixed vocals, mostly harsh)
Recommended for fans of: Opeth, Ne Obliviscaris
Country: New Jersey, United States
Release date: 22 March 2025

Cooking up a band name is tougher than it seems—there are about as many artists on Metal Archives as there are words in the English language, so if you’re going for a snappy one-word moniker, you’re either gonna have to scour the Old Church Slavonic dictionary or fight it out to the death with a bunch of other gangly nerds. On Bandcamp alone, there are 59 artists named Atlas, and on Metal Archives, you can find 32 Legions, 30 Requiems, 27 Nemesises (Nemeses?), and more¹. Take your pick, I guess, cause with numbers like that, at least one of them is bound to suit your tastes. This brings us to Descension, the latest release from today’s band of discussion, Citadel—no, not the symphonic black metal band from France, it’s the—not the melodic power metal band from Russia, either. They’re the—it’s not the album Citadel by Ne Oblivi–will you just let me finish?

This Citadel was built in New Jersey and indulges in the grandiloquent prog-death excess of bands like Ne Obliviscaris, Opeth, Dessiderium, and the like, making light work of aggressive drumming, technical-yet-melodic riffage, and grand, cinematic song structures. Descension tries its hand at several compositional frameworks: “Veil” and “A Shadow In the Mist” are all about iteration on a central motif whereas “Sorrow of the Thousandth Death” and “Crescent Dissentient” sometimes reprise melodies but are more interested in operating as a free-flowing stream of consciousness. “Under the Primrose” and “Downwards Ever” sit somewhere in the middle of these approaches, cycling through a set of established ideas across their runtimes while occasionally diverting into asides. Quiet interludes and outros are featured throughout to soften the blow of Descension’s expansive prog death assaults, utilizing any number of classical instruments from piano to flute to cello.

A swirling acoustic arpeggio is the artery of opener “Veil”, as the motif is hypnotically iterated upon in both loud and quiet moments. The ideas the track explores are a direct consequence of its establishing melody and act as the inevitable returning point after a detour. When this formula is followed, Descension‘s relatively lengthy compositions are quite easy to follow, and their success rides significantly on Citadel‘s ability to recontextualize ideas in engaging ways. “Veil” succeeds the most in this respect, showcasing some of Descension‘s most clever reimaginings and even ending with a satisfyingly plaintive acoustic outro. The first half of “A Shadow In the Mist” retraces “Veil” to an almost shocking degree, coming across more as “Veil 2” than as its own piece at first blush: a similar arpeggio centralizes the track, a similar blast beat section is used in the first verse, and it follows a similar overall progression. I’m not particularly mad because it retraces one of Descension‘s better tracks and near its midpoint it manages to carve out its own identity, but its presentation is without a doubt jarring.

Descension‘s results are much more mixed on its ‘stream-of-consciousness’ tracks: Citadel sometimes struggle to maintain focus when not homed in on a melodic nexus. “Sorrow of the Thousandth Death” in particular features many commanding high-energy riffs, opening on a blistering assault of tremolo picks and furious blasting, but when the guitars pull back, the track turns into a series of listenable but ultimately uninteresting ideas. This lack of focus even extends to the mastering, particularly in the verses: the extended dissonant chords that overlay the verses’ instrumentation are a production nightmare as they swallow up all the attention and make it difficult to focus on anything happening underneath them. Some tweaks in the production and a bit less going on in these verses would significantly help to give more direction to the great ideas that pepper “Sorrow of the Thousandth Death”. “Downwards Ever” is one of the more chaotic tracks, distinguishing itself with fast-paced melodeath riffs, flamenco guitar work, and even a discordant horn solo in its final half. The horns are brought back again, albeit much more restrained, in its quieter outro. It’s kind of a mess compositionally, as many of the ideas the track throws out don’t quite fit together nicely, but it’s admittedly a fun mess.

Citadel try their hand at a slew of compositional approaches on Descension, coalescing in a decent but flawed package. When tracks are sharply attuned to a single motif, they glide effortlessly across their runtime, but the more chaotic pieces struggle to maintain focus or get buried under mastering woes. A balance between more intense and more languid ideas adds a pleasant variety to Descension, and with a bit more polish and maturity, Citadel’s compositions can fully encompass the cinematic grandeur they strive towards.

Recommended tracks: Veil, Downwards Ever
You may also like: Dessiderium, Disillusion, Ubiquity, Piah Mater, Luna’s Call, Amiensus
Final verdict: 6/10

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

Label: Independent

Citadel is:
– Ameer Aljallad (guitars, vocals, drums)
– Owen Deland (bass)
– Noah Romeo (guitars, synthesizers)

1. Numbers gathered from this very helpful Invisible Oranges article. Long live the singular Necrogay! ︎

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Artwork by: Costin Chioreanu

Style: Progressive metal, avant-garde metal (mixed vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Oranssi Pazuzu, Ved Buens Ende, Enslaved (Monumension in particular), Arcturus
Country: The Netherlands
Release date: 13 March 2025

While in my daily life I tend to be a pretty goofy individual who tends to joke around in situations where one really shouldn’t (I once drew an apple and a pear on my real analysis in higher dimensions exam, said “pronounce: apple, pear respectively,” and proclaimed that they were manifolds—yes, I got full points), when it comes to music I am largely serious: I eyeroll over most of Haken’s and Between the Buried and Me’s whimsical breaks (the one in “Crystallized” might be the single most offensive section of music ever), and even in a genre like power metal which I adore, I tend towards bands who take themselves seriously like Virgin Steele or Angra over gimmick bands like Manowar or Sabaton. I do enjoy the goof sometimes, but it needs to be timed tastefully and the band has to deliver enough musical substance to back it up (Ethmebb my beloved). So, you tell me Cthuluminati, will this Tentacula entangle me in its wonders or will these silly tentacles touch me in places where they really shouldn’t?

Cthuluminati play a strange psychedelic brand of progressive black metal. While this combination of genres is by no means new—groups like Enslaved, Oranssi Pazuzu, and A Forest of Stars are infamous for this—Cthuluminati set out to make their sound as uncomfortable and bewildering as possible, borrowing their aesthetic from horror movie soundtracks while contorting their base prog black sound in a similar way to Ved Buens Ende with odd chord choices and unsettling rhythmic interplay. Their songs whirl and twirl in unexpected directions, relying on rhythmic modulations and ever evolving sound design to put you on the wrong foot. The latter is particularly impressive for how seamlessly black metal, psych rock, stoner, and post-metal guitarwork weave in and out to create a cohesive sound. And to finish things off, the vocal melodies tend not to be melodies as much as they creatively monologue in various shades of distortion, ranging from maybe-musical talking and Tibetan throat singing to raspy warbling and guttural screaming. The resulting sound is one of controlled chaos with dark psychedelia, somewhat as if Enslaved had figured out how to maintain cohesion in their excesses on Monumension. In short, Tentacula is an LSD trip not quite gone wrong but it’s definitely on the edge.

This sense of groundedness plays a large part of what makes Tentacula such a special record. For the most part, Cthuluminati deftly balance normality with their avant-garde tendencies. Opening track “Cthrl” exemplifies this approach, starting with spoken word and spooky synths before erupting in black metal riffage over a driving, almost danceable beat that slowly but surely contorts into disorienting psychedelia until you realize you’ve fully left familiar ground. But as you’re floating on the waves of Cthuluminati’s wicked imagination, they pull you back to the ground with impressive shredding and tom-heavy drumming, only to get weird again near the end with a full on psych rock escapade. “Abysmal Quatrain” similarly balances itself as it gradually builds from the uncanny into an almost normal post-black metal crescendo, and “The Illusion of Control” explores doom metal elements, giving rise to some very heavy, dramatic moments. However, “Squid Pro Quo” (song name of the year btw) does lose its footing at times by meandering for too long in slow, uncomfortable rhythms and creepy synths and vocal work while failing to provide sufficient comfort to the listener to balance it out, thus harming the album’s pacing.

Another way Cthuluminati toe the line between the normal and the avant-garde is in their song structures. The writing feels stream of consciousness at first, but Cthuluminati successfully instill a sense of order in their compositions by borrowing cues from post-metal in how they incorporate tension and release. In that sense, opener “Cthrl” is a bit misleading with how many things it throws at the wall. The following tracks all have a far stronger sense of identity: the slow and unsettling “Squid Pro Quo” borrows from 90s stoner rock redolent of Kyuss, “Abysmal Quatrain” is solidly embedded in post-metal, “The Illusion of Control” leans into cinematic death-doom, and closer “Mantra” is a ritualistic post-metal track recalling The Ocean with bonus throat singing. Not to say any of these tracks are easy—they all still have plenty of rhythmic mind benders and creepy sound design—but at least you know which song you’re listening to. However, like the quirky excesses of “Squid Pro Quo”, Cthuluminati do get lost in the sauce sometimes: the quiet middle section of “Mantra” meanders with too few interesting sonic developments, “The Illusion of Control” overstays its welcome a smidge with an unnecessarily long acoustic outro, and “Squid Pro Quo” isn’t ominous enough to justify its slow tempos. Fortunately, most of these are only minor mishaps in the overall experience.

All things considered, it’s safe to say that Cthuluminati do not rely on any gimmick to distinguish themselves. Tentacula is a bewildering album in all the right ways: clever genre mashups, challenging yet accessible arrangements, creative sound design, and tying it all together with compositions that strike a fantastic balance in being adventurous while remaining more-or-less grounded. Sometimes Cthuluminati do overindulge in their whims, but most of the time they remain on course to throughout whatever nightmare labyrinth they entrap themselves in. Tentacula is another shining example of why progressive black metal is one of the current most exciting genres around, and I recommend fans of curves and angles not native to this plane of existence to pick it up.

Recommended tracks: Cthrl, The Illusion of Control, Mantra
You may also like: Hail Spirit Noir, Schammasch, Murmuüre, A Forest of Stars
Final verdict: 8/10

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

Label: Independent

Cthuluminati is:
– Devi Hisgen (vocals)
– Rami Wohl (guitars)
– Stefan Strausz (bass)
– Seth van de Loo (drums)

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