Logo and illustration by Jack Sabbat, Ornaments by Joos Melander

Style: Heavy Metal, Black Metal, Progressive Metal (mixed vocals, mostly clean)
Recommended for fans of: Hammers of Misfortune, Negative Plane, Malokarpatan
Country: Denmark
Release date: 28 February, 2025

Have you ever thought to yourself: “Man, swords sure are cool. I just wish they came in a larger variety of shapes and sizes”. If so, why do you talk like that? Also, the year is 2025, and I think I may have an answer to your prayers.

Enter Copenhagen based quintet Scimitar, whose debut album Scimitarium I features an illustration I think you may be veeeery interested in. Oh, they also play music I guess… And it is quite good! Extremely good in fact. Scimitar plays an arcane form of heavy metal with a serious black metal bent not entirely unlike Negative Plane and their ilk. Winding guitar riffs weave through a swarming drum performance as Shaam Larein’s unique lilting vocal performance glides like an apparition over it all. The lead guitar often takes on the role of conveying the primary melody while the vocals support it with their own secondary melody; it is not quite contrapuntal, but the result is faintly similar. The formula on display on Scimitarium I instantly caught my attention, shining like the glint of sharpened steel that comprises the blade of a certain shape of sword.

Scimitarium I opens with its title track, starting with a dissonant riff that is deceptively catchy and works as a great tag to set expectations and the mood for the entire album. The track ends as this riff simultaneously implodes in on itself and explodes into “Aconitum”, wasting no time to flex Scimitar’s sharp structuring and songwriting skills. Long-winded serpentine riff phrases create space for plenty of variation and smart use of harmonic interplay during repeated sections. Each and every idea is taken to its logical conclusion, then taken there again down a different contextual path within the song. The result is that Scimitar can rely on only a few of their strongest ideas, streamlining the listening experience without losing the esoteric nature at the heart of their sound. “Aconitum” is perhaps the strongest and most straightforward example of this; the chorus has a great lead guitar melody that can be superimposed over the entire rest of the track, fitting in perfectly the entire time, and showcasing just how deeply Scimitar understands their strengths and the skill with which they are able to utilize them.

Besides general songwriting prowess, Shaam Larein’s vocal performance is the primary highlight of Scimitarium I for my tastes; she’s great at crafting arcane melodies that are equal parts catchy and esoteric, able to get stuck in your head without taking away from the occult atmosphere. Larein often uses her voice more texturally than as a vehicle for delivering melody, but very rarely does she flip fully into screaming. Particularly effective is how she regularly switches into her falsetto at the end of phrases, giving her performance a feeling of spectral uneasiness. Even while Larein is singing, her syllable placement and the pacing of her phrases are more in line with a harsh vocal performance, further bridging the gap and muddying the waters between Scimitar’s sharp black metal edge and heavy metal spirit. 

Those who are familiar with Slægt’s particular mix of black and heavy metal will mostly know what to expect from the instrumental side of Scimitar’s performance, given that the two groups share three members between them. For those who aren’t, Slægt play a heavy metal infused form of melodic black metal with plenty of goth tendencies in the vein of Tribulation. While Slægt is mainly concerned with exploring the black metal side of these guys’ particular sound, Scimitar ventures further into heavy metal territory, infusing the performance with a scrappy DIY aesthetic. There are still plenty of the black metal performance techniques, but they are used in the context of and in service to a heavy metal conceit. The bass guitar heavily utilizes chromaticism and relies on leading tones that anchor the ripping melodic black metal based guitar riffing. The drumming is very busy, constantly filling space with fills and short blasts, but never distracting from the rest of the performances. This is not to say that Scimitar never fully unsheathes their black metal side—they do so quite a few times, and always to great effect. Take “Red Ruins” for example: around 1:20 there is a chilling ghostly vocal harmony that leads into Scimitarium I’s first fully mask off black metal section. Harsh vocals accompany a vicious tremolo attack, followed by a harmonically disorienting arpeggiated riff that winds around itself like a whirling drain. Scimitar’s sound is malleable and can be stretched into so many different directions, from black and heavy metal to goth and pop (“Hungry Hallucinations”), but always retains its core sound and never diverges from the almighty riff. 

Scimitar has stumbled upon a nearly perfect blend of sound for my tastes, a paradoxical fog which repels direct comparison through an inviting familiarity. Each performance is grippingly authentic, each riff thrillingly engaging, and each moment ridiculously addictive. We’re only about a third of the way through 2025, and Scimitarium I is already a strong contender for ending up as my favorite album of the year, and it is not particularly close either. Even in an early year full of strong underground releases, Scimitar cuts through the chaff, sharpening its uniquely shaped edge with a calculated efficiency. Perhaps those warriors from Hammerfell were onto something after all.

Recommended tracks: Aconitum, Hungry Hallucinations, Ophidia
You may also like: Slægt, Molten Chains, Funereal Presence, Predatory Light, Ponte del Diavolo
Final verdict: 9/10

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

Label: Crypt of the Wizard – Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Website

Scimitar is:
– Shaam Larein (vocals)
-Johan L. Ekstrand (unknown)
-Anders M. Jorgensen (unknown)
-Olle Bergholz (unknown)
-Adam CCsquele (unknown)

The post Review: Scimitar – Scimitarium I appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Artwork by Noirs Dessins

Style: post-black metal (mixed vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Alcest, Deafheaven, An Autumn for Crippled Children, Violet Cold
Country: Canada
Release date: 08 February 2025

It really is strange to write reviews in this blog about bands like Unreqvited. They definitely have enough of a fan base that you’d think anyone into the band’s genre would know about them, but they’re also tiny in comparison to prog/black metal giants that need no introduction here. How do you begin this? Do I have to give you the whole explanation as to what they do and what they’re good at? Do I just jump to talking about the main changes to their sound and reviewing the meat of the album? I believe the name must at least ring a bell if you enjoy post-black and have ever actively searched for more bands past the Alcest/Deafheaven duo. But, for the uninitiated…

Unreqvited have been a mainstay in the post-black metal scene for the better part of a decade now. Known for their ability to create larger than life soundscapes that capture a simultaneous co-existence between beauty and agony, their instrumental approach to the genre has always had them leaning closer to the post in post-black. They’ve been incredibly prolific as well, with nine LPs in nine years, all having something that differentiated them from one another. Whether it’s the cinematic approach on Mosaic I, the orchestral elements in Empathica, or the more blackgaze-y influenced sound in Beautiful Ghosts, you know that when they release a new album, you’re bound to hear some changes in their sound. A Pathway to the Moon was released after the longest break between albums in the band’s existence, and it offers perhaps the band’s biggest change yet: Vocals! 

The impact of this change is felt immediately in the first minutes of Pathway; Instead of what would normally be a slow, dramatic instrumental build-up to set the scene, a minimal backing track supports the heavenly voice of William Melsness, who takes centre stage to create a heavenly atmosphere in a short overture. After the serene, ethereal opening, “The Antimatter’’ shatters that tranquility pulling the listener into a stark, near void-like soundscape. This trope really is about as post-black 101 as it gets, but the sharp contrast between both styles is something that wasn’t usually present in Unreqvited’s previous releases. Whereas previous works would see both the styles of black metal and post-rock co-existing, “The Antimatter’’ has these completely different ideas actively fighting each other. The first black metal chops leave a big impression on the listener; they come right out of the gate by displaying a sound so theatrical and dramatic that it may just get confused for a Xanthochroid song. Orchestral touches are spread all around the album in general, and they really add an extra layer of freshness to this release’s heaviest moments. Oh right, the tracks now have vocals, and I am a big fan of the harshes present as well! They are way grimmer than what I’ve come to expect in post-black metal, and their presence really adds to Pathway’s void-like soundscapes. 

I sadly have less positive things to say about the clean vocals. They’re serviceable by all means but fail to deliver that final kick to release all the tension that was built up during the harsher sections. Cleans in this genre can bring a lot of dynamism to the table, but here they’re mostly flat choruses with little to no memorable melodies. These cleans also expose one of my pet peeves with this album; its production. Whilst there’s nothing that sounds bad, it is simply far too clean and generic. I am far from a black metal purist, but previous Unreqvited releases had found that perfect middle point between clean instrumentals while also having a bit of rawness to it, especially to enhance the moments of absolute tension. And this flaw in its production is most obvious when the clean vocals are meant to express any type of strong emotion and fail to deliver. I will however admit that this production style fits Pathway’s lead single “The Starforger” quite well. A poppy, heavenly song with very serviceable choruses which leave a lasting memorable impression; it certainly works far better in a polished atmosphere where the clean vocals can deliver a catchy melody on top of very simple moody guitar licks. 

I know most of my feedback has been about the first half of this album and the reason is because the second half really doesn’t have a lot of noteworthy things to mention. The two distinct styles initially settle for a pleasant middle point in “Void Essence / Frozen Tears”, with the clean sections being especially memorable. However, the production still takes something away from the harsher melodies, and the track starts a very slow approach towards ending this journey. Whilst never getting close to being bad, the dipping point in the final three songs is felt, as every time I finished this album I was left with very little to say about this closing trio. One repeats the typical post-black 101 formula we’ve mentioned, only far slower and incredibly focused on its pop aspect; one’s a one minute interlude; and to close things off we get a very slow, albeit sonically pleasant closing track. “Departure: Everlasting Dream” does thrive with beautiful orchestral elements that give the feeling of ending a difficult journey and seeing the light at the end of the tunnel, but it would’ve served the album better had it not felt like we were already out of that tunnel fifteen minutes ago. 

All in all, A Pathway to the Moon delivers a pretty listening experience that’s too front-heavy to really strike a chord with me. The addition of vocals is a success, but Unreqvited still need to learn how to structure an album around them, as the flow of A Pathway to the Moon leaves a bit to be desired.   

Recommended tracks: The Anitmatter, The Starforger
You may also like: Nishaiar, Skyforest, Mare Cognitum, Vestige
Final verdict: 6.5/10

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

Label: Prophecy Productions – Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Website

Unreqvited in question is:
– William Melsness (all instruments)

The post Review: Unreqvited – A Pathway to the Moon appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: Black metal, folk metal (Mixed vocals, mostly harsh)
Recommended for fans of: Moonsorrow, Saor, Dissection, Immortal
Country: Finland
Release date: 28 February 2025

We’ve all been there: you’re out enjoying your commune-with-nature, and all of a sudden, a bunch of bishops stroll into town and try to upend your way of life. Those guys are absolute jerks, thinking they can come in without fanfare and force you into a completely new belief system. Wouldn’t it just be better if they, I don’t know, were chased into the forests to the north? The people of 13th-century Finland can’t help but agree, and black metal outfit Havukruunu are here to recount the story of how the Tavastians reclaimed their pagan traditions on latest record Tavastland. Will you revel in their tale, or is this a piece of history best left forgotten? 

Havukruunu’s brand of pagan black metal is reminiscent of fellow Finns Moonsorrow, composing tracks with a base of anthemic riffage and extended instrumental breaks. On Tavastland, they adorn their sound with any number of cinematic embellishments, typically through group chanting (“Yönsynty”, “Unissakävijä”), larger-than-life solos (“Kuolematon Laulunhenki”, “De Miseriis Fennorum”), or folk interludes (”Kuoleman Oma”, “Havukruunu ja Talvenvarjo”). Tavastland’s compositions are fairly unstructured, preferring to wander from riff to riff while retaining a central mood, though opener “Kuolematon Laulunhenki” makes a point to reprise its opening ideas at its end. Through voice-overs accompanied with a haunting owl-like flute, the album recounts vignettes from the villagers’ perspective just before the exile of Tavastia’s bishops in the 13th century.

When working within a less structured songwriting framework, moment-by-moment interest becomes paramount to retaining the listener’s attention. Havukruunu by and large succeed at this on Tavastland, particularly when leaning fully into aggressive black metal passages. “Kuolematon Laulunhenki” utilizes a bevy of playing styles to maintain interest, adding lightning-speed flourishes to the opening ideas and effortlessly transitioning from chunky mid-paced riffage to a chilling solo later in the track. “Havukruunu ja Talvenvarjo” features some of Tavastland’s best riffs, iterating on an ethereal and hypnotic motif that begins as an impassioned trek across a moonlit snowy forest and ends contemplative and heartbroken. Closer “De Miseriis Fennorum” effectively utilizes a similar trick in its middle section, recontextualizing spellbinding tremolos over a series of morphing drum patterns, each giving the riff a distinct feel and creating a sense of motion while staying in the same place melodically. The final moments of “De Miseriis Fennorum” are distinctly free-form with a wall of buzzing guitars and strings giving way to a lonely wind, alluding to the slow and icy death of the exiled Tavastian bishops.

Strong guitarwork comprises the core of Tavastland’s sound: a track’s success is contingent on the success of its riffs. Conversely, this means that when the riffs don’t work, the songs don’t quite work either, as the undeniably enjoyable folk facets aren’t quite able to hold up Havukruunu’s compositions alone. As a consequence, about half of Tavastland’s tracks are wholly adrenaline-pumping forays into the harsh wilderness, and the other half are one part spectacular and one part serviceable at best. This dip in excitement typically happens when the band slows down, as their ability to write more languid pieces doesn’t entirely stand toe-to-toe with their faster, more aggressive moments. “Yönsynty”, for example, features a spectacular beginning with gorgeous riff-chant interplay, but loses steam by its end at the hands of relatively anonymous riffage. “Kuoleman Oma” suffers the same problem in reverse: the track takes a bit too long to build momentum around its acoustic beginnings, though it closes on an ascendant solo that charges headfirst into tumbling and powerful guitar melodies. Additionally, the track features gorgeously intertwining acoustic guitar and bass halfway through, showing that the band are indeed capable of writing compelling passages both fast and slow.

Embellished by somber folk instrumentation and a menacing historical retelling, Tavastland rarely takes a break from its unrelenting wintry assault. When leaning into its more aggressive tendencies, the album shines the most, expertly iterating and recontextualizing riffs in a free-form songwriting framework. Though Tavastland never descends into unlistenability, its noticeable lulls do cause the experience to drag at times. Nonetheless, Havukruunu have once again proven their acumen for black metal songwriting and demonstrated themselves as worthy bearers of the crown of pinecones.

Recommended tracks: Havukruunu ja Talvenvarjo, Kuolematon Laulunhenki, Tavastland, De Miseriis Fennorum
You may also like: Ungfell, Thrawsunblat, Cân Bardd, Fellwarden
Final verdict: 7/10

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

Label: Svart Records – Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Website

Havukruunu is:
– Stefa (vocals, guitars, keyboards)
– Bootleg-Henkka (guitars)
– Humö (bass)
– Kostajainen (drums)

The post Review: Havukruunu – Tavastland appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Lorem Ipsum – Même Quand ta Main Quittera la Mienne
Recommended for fans of: Beethoven, La Dispute, In Fear and Faith, Astor Piazzolla
Picked by: Andy

Even at just thirteen minutes, Même Quand ta Main Quittera la Mienne is basically a life-changing EP. Addicting and unique, the French quartet’s take on screamo is, for all intents and purposes, perfect. Wrought with raw emotion from the vocal performance, the stellar chamber music underlying Foulon’s screams and singing is beautifully contrapuntal, with small details still revealing themselves thirty listens later. Music really doesn’t get much better; I lament that this EP is only thirteen minutes long.

Recommended tracks: all three of them
Related links: Bandcamp | original review

Jonathan Hultén – Eyes of the Living Night
Recommended for fans of: Anathema, Heilung, The Pineapple Thief, Lunatic Soul
Picked by: Ian

[Editor’s note: this album released in January but Ian was otherwise engaged so we’re tacking it onto this month’s post]

Jonathan Hultén has wandered far and wide across the musical landscape since his departure from the goth-metal realms of Tribulation, and here he has carved out his own beautiful niche: a sparkling, vibrant twilight of sound that recalls the soft yet expansive melodrama of late-era Anathema with a primal, neofolk twist. The melodies and arrangements feel ancient and timeless, and in combination with Hultén’s masterful command over vocal timbre, they can soothe a part of your soul you weren’t quite aware you had. This is music to relax one’s weary being after a taxing journey, physical or otherwise, and watch from a warm sanctuary as the short light of the eventide gives way to a dark, starlit night.

Recommended tracks: Afterlife, Riverflame, The Dream Was the Cure, The Ocean’s Arms
Related links: Bandcamp | Spotify | original review

Sleep Paralysis – Sleep Paralysis
Recommended for fans of: Blut Aus Nord, Imperial Triumphant, Oranssi Pazuzu
Picked by: Justin

My cohorts here at The Progressive Subway have described Sleep Paralysis as “annoying”, “grating” (that’s the point) and have given it generally low ratings. Good thing for you then, dear reader, that I am here to impart upon you the correct opinion about this album. I agree that Sleep Paralysis is a bit on the nose with its influences and lyrics, but it pulls the avant-garde black metal style off in a uniquely recognizable way that completely justifies the choices that make this album so controversial in our little circle. Listen and decide for yourself whether or not you agree with my opinion; either way, I am one review closer to assimilating this website into “The Progressive Subway Plus Justin Rambling in the Corner About Weirdo Death/Black Metal”. Rolls right off the tongue. 

Recommended tracks: Sleep Paralysis, Fever Dream, Helplessness
Related links: Bandcamp | Spotify | original review

Decline of the I – Wilhelm
Recommended for fans of: The Great Old Ones, Oranssi Pazuzu, Blut Aus Nord
Picked by: Cory

With a massive, 45-minute slab of bleak but elegant post-black metal, Decline of the I reverses the band’s titular trajectory and ascends our February ranks. Wilhelm is ambitious to say the least, layering electronic percussion, monastic chants, ethereal choirs, bowed strings, and bites of spoken philosophy into its wandering compositions. But in true sheep-dog fashion, Decline of the I herds all these elements into a coherent and compelling whole. The band accomplishes the rare feat of compromising on neither the black nor the post-metal aspects of its sound, excelling handily at both and delivering an album that stakes an early claim as one of 2025’s most impressive.

Recommended tracks: L’ Alliance Des Rats, Éros N
Related links: Bandcamp | Spotify | original review

Crown of Madness – Memories Fragmented
Recommended for fans of: Gorguts, Ulcerate
Picked by: Daniel

As a newer contributor to the Subway and someone who had yet to review an album I was truly gaga about, I spent the month after writing my original review second-guessing myself. Had I gone too easy on Memories Fragmented? Did I pick enough nits? Was my score too generous? Then the album dropped, and I gave it another listen—then another, and another. A week after its release, I’ve played it every single day. Spoiler alert: I absolutely did not go too easy on it. I am even more in love with the beautiful melodies that are strangled out of its contorting, dissonant guitar motifs; and the percussion’s artillery barrage still leaves me shell shocked. I want to savor this album, yet at the same time I’m already anxiously anticipating whatever Crown of Madness does next.

Recommended tracks: Sovereign Blood, Ashes of Mine, The Grand Design
Related links: Bandcamp | Spotify | original review

Maud the Moth – The Distaff
For fans of: Björk, Lingua Ignota, Anna von Hausswolff
Picked by: Andy

Labyrinthine and dense, The Distaff is a look into the mind of artist Amaya López-Carramero, and the album is as complicated and beautiful as thought. With self-contradicting and poetic lyricism, The Distaff’s message—lyrically and musically—is obscured, but the trip is gorgeous and evocative. Through winding compositions, eerie instrumentals, and a stellar vocal performance, Maud the Moth has positioned herself as the artist to beat for weirdo prog in 2025. 

Recommended tracks: A Temple by the River, Exuviae, Despeñaperros, Fiat Lux
Related links: Bandcamp | Spotify | original review

Scimitar – Scimitarium I
For fans of: Slaegt, Molten Chains, Malokarpatan, Messa
Picked by: Justin

Scimitarium I was The Progressive Subway’s February sleeper hit; none of us got around to it until pretty well into March, but all of us were instantly enamored with it. Scimitar play an arcane form of heavy metal with plenty of black metal leanings à la Negative Plane, Malokarpatan, Spirit Possession etc… Strong songwriting and brilliant structuring lends way to serpentine riffs, and the entire experience is tied together by Shaam Larein’s lilting vocal performance. Don’t sleep on this sleeper hit.

Recommended tracks: Aconitum, Hungry Hallucinations, Ophidia
Related links: Bandcamp | Spotify | original review

Non-Subway Picks

Majestica – Power Train (power metal)
Despite my general distaste for modern power metal (not for lack of wanting to love it), Majestica know the formula for a great song despite the campy cheese. You’ll love those impressive vocal lines, guaranteed.
Picked by: Andy

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

Style: dissonant death metal, black metal, electronica (harsh vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Ulcerate, Gorguts, Morbid Angel, Gojira
Country: Arizona, United States
Release date: 28 February 2025

In my mind, the main feature (other than quality) that separates one dissonant death metal release from another is headiness. Some bands like Replicant are content to stay low to the earth, punishing any who come near with raw brutality, while others leave their earthly constraints and instead push dissodeath towards the cerebral; see Pyrrhon and Scarcity. In the middle, you get bands like Ulcerate and Convulsing that infuse elements from across the spectrum into their sound to create music equally confounding as it is crushing, and this alluring middle ground is where Light Dweller’s The Subjugate falls.

Stylistically, Light Dweller employs a shade of dissonant death metal on The Subjugate most similar to that of Convulsing’s masterful Perdurance from last year. Uniquely contrapuntal riffs weave in and upon themselves as the interminable drumming blasts away atop a bed of cacophonous atmospherics, but—like all the dissodeath I love—the album maintains a devotion to the mighty riff. From the harmonious guitar work of the opening track that sounds as though entirely different songs are playing from the left and right channels, to the tasteful ebb and flow of the breakdowns on songs like “Cessation of Time” and the Tool-like percussive riffage on tracks like “Fracturing Light” and “Passing Through the Veil,” there’s no shortage of unique and creative riffs on The Subjugate. In general, the riffs here feel more groove oriented, as if Morbid Angel’s sound never stopped evolving, and when Alex Haddad (Dessiderium, Arkaik) lends the album his tasteful lead work, the songs take on an even more technical edge. Even as the tracks venture into the realms of electronica with synthesized drum beats, haunting flute, and brainy synths, there’s always a killer riff waiting in the wings to bring it all back home to a familiar death metal base.

The balance between The Subjugate’s degenerate and cerebral qualities is what allows the album to truly shine. In fact, The Subjugate achieves an emulsification of metal subgenres here more successfully than any death metal act in recent memory, and I find my attention only broken by the unfortunately common additions of electronic drumming. There are certainly gaps in my electronic knowledge that keep me from fully contextualizing the ideas the album puts forth, but the manner in which the electronic drums never seemed to settle into a steady beat made each moment they appeared feel somewhat meandering, as if lacking a goal to push towards. There are a few moments like the spliced buildup of the intro of “Fracturing Light” that push the album towards a more cogent fusion of death metal and electronica, but these moments don’t outshine my distaste for the electronic drums as a whole.

Blessedly, the somewhat poor integration of the electronic elements into The Subjugate’s sound allows me to look past them and simply enjoy the dissodeath that the album has on offer, and it is really stellar stuff. I constantly find myself headbanging to every track, and by the time this rather lean album finishes up, I instantly feel the urge to spin it again, chasing those giddy glimpses into the album’s unfathomable riffage. As a fellow acolyte of the mighty riff, it truly warms my heart to see a band taking the riff heritage of bands like MorbidAngel—or Gojira for a more modern reference—and pushing it into the future. One inverted power chord and pick scrape at a time, Light Dweller, along with bands like Convulsing, Replicant, and Wormhole, are pushing metal riffing into the future, and there’s no telling where they may end up. Thankfully, we have The Subjugate as a stepping stone to help us along the way.

Recommended tracks: Adrift the Expanding Nothingness, Fracturing Light, Cessation of Time
You may also like: Convulsing, Warforged, Replicant, Sacrificial Vein, Luminous Vault, Artificial Brain
Final verdict: 7.5/10

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

Label: Unorthodox Emanations of Avantgarde Music – Bandcamp | Facebook

Light Dweller is:
– Cameron Boesch (everything)

The post Review: Light Dweller – The Subjugate appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: Progressive rock, chamber pop, art rock, alternative rock, indie folk (clean vocals)
Recommended for fans of: The Pineapple Thief, Riverside, Porcupine Tree, The Dear Hunter, iamthemorning
Country: Norway
Release date: 28 February 2025

What’s that? Dir En Grey? No, you want the room around the corner, this is Dim Gray… No problem, have a great time… Oh, hi, I didn’t see you there! Welcome to The Progressive Subway, where we review the best of progressive rock and metal. Except… we don’t review all that much prog rock. Why? Because so much of it suffers from the same problems: bland vocalists, lacklustre musicianship, and a tendency to jettison creativity in favour of just copying the classics. At the end of the day, there’s so little of note in the genre to cover. We want prog that actually progresses, that pushes the genre forward; there’s not much you can say about yet another thinly veiled tribute to Pink Floyd.  

So good luck to Dir En—goddamnit—I mean Dim Gray¹. Shards is the Norwegian quintet’s third full-length release, cementing their cinematic take on proggy alternative rock, awash in reverb and echo while meditating on lyrical themes of change and stasis. Fronted by Oskar Holldorff, whose piano-work often leads the songs, and accompanied by strings, Shards sounds both oceanic in its scale and intimate in its cosy instrumentation. Dim Gray’s sound feels apiece with fellow Norwegian group Meer, as well as other softly toned underground art rock acts like Exploring Birdsong and Haven of Echoes.

Holldorff’s mellifluous vocal performance is a focal point for Dim Gray, and he’s sometimes joined by all four of his bandmates. Indeed, harmonies play a crucial role across Shards, from the five-part harmony refrain on epic finale “Attakulla” to the duet with guest vocalist Vaarin on “Myopia”. Guitarist Håkon Høiberg takes the lead on “Murals” and co-leads “Peril” with his breathy, quavering vibrato contrasting nicely with Holldorff’s controlled high tenor. Their performances are bolstered predominantly by Holldorff’s glittering piano work and the strings of Ellen-Martine Gismervik and Nicoline Krohn Moland (cello and violin respectively). 

At times, this focus on piano and strings means the core band instruments are somewhat secondary, though never in a negative sense. “Myopia” is essentially a chamber prog tune, the kind of thing you might hear from White Moth Black Butterfly’s debut. Nevertheless, the core band contribute many a great moment: the wonderfully intricate guitar riff that opens “Defiance”, the folk standard that defines “Murals” with its jig-like rhythm, or the way “Feathers” builds instrumental layers with the guitar becoming a more pronounced contributor as the song charges inexorably towards its post-rock climax. Høiberg and Milad Amouzegar are apt to play with pedals, tremulous effects with minimal distortion; Amouzegar also provides setar and Persian santoor (a type of hammered dulcimer) which further contributes to Dim Gray’s distinct sound. Meanwhile, Tom Ian Klungland uses electronic percussion to suit softer songs (“Myopia”, “Mooneater”) and hammers the kit when necessary (“Little One”). Shards isn’t overtly flashy; rather it’s a textural experience, all the sonic elements working towards a shared goal.

Holldorff is a regular Jem Godfrey, handling the mix and master as well as fronting the band and providing keys. The production is crystalline, the cinematic atmospheres lend the tracks a strong sense of grandiosity, and all the instruments are clear in the mix. My only caveat is that Kristian Kvaksrud’s bass work is a little buried in all the layers and probably gets drowned out by the bass piano notes much of the time. Nevertheless, even in the more chaotic sections, the instruments have plenty of space to assert themselves in the mix. 

There’s little to fault, but Dim Gray do play it a little safe with song structures at times. “Peril”, for example, leans into a more generic, mainstream indie-folk structure and sound, a little too frivolous and radio-friendly—dare I say it, a touch too Mumford & Sons². It feels like a very made-to-be-a-single track and I found myself wanting to skip it while reviewing. Standing in stark contrast is the ten minute finale “Attakulla” which showcases Dim Gray at their best. Eschewing the poppier structures present across much of Shards and engaging the talents of every band member, we get gorgeous vocal harmonies, a setar solo from Amouzegar, a violin solo, and about four different crescendos. As Holldorff defiantly intones ‘I will rise, I will fade, like a wave that breaks on stone’ at the track’s climax and those thundering Porcupine Tree-esque chords ring out, I can’t help but wish there was more of this across Shards. Don’t get me wrong, most of the tracks are fantastic, but Dim Gray are simply so adept at long form work that I’d love to hear them lean further into these proggier inclinations more often. 

New and engaging prog rock acts don’t come around all that often which makes Shards all the more of a revelation. Dim Gray are completely in sync, their compositions meticulously crafted. While I’d love to see them stretch their prog muscles further, there’s no denying that this is one of those rare great prog rock albums that feels fresh and is, quite simply, a joy to listen to. Bands like Meer, Exploring Birdsong, and now Dim Gray are remaking the prog rock scene anew, leaving the old paradigm in shards. 

Recommended tracks: Defiance, Myopia, Murals, Little One, Attakulla
You may also like: Meer, Exploring Birdsong, Haven of Echoes, Jonathan Hultén, White Moth Black Butterfly, Ifall
Final verdict: 7.5/10

1. “This bit wasn’t funny the first time,” I hear you cry. True, but it might be funny the second time. ︎
2. The main guitar lick actually sounds like a cursed mix of When You Were Young by The Killers (a good song) and What You Know by Two Door Cinema Club (a not so good song). ︎

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

Label: Independent

Dim Gray is:
– Tom Ian Klungland (drums, backing vocals)
– Håkon Høiberg (guitars, mandolin, lead vocals on track 3 and parts of track 6, backing vocals)
– Milad Amouzegar (guitars, Persian santoor and setar, backing vocals, additional synth)
– Oskar Holldorff (vocals, keyboards, programming, additional acoustic guitar)
– Kristian Kvaksrud (electric bass, backing vocals)

The post Review: Dim Gray – Shards appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

(No cover artist credited)

Style: progressive rock, art rock, post-rock (clean vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Black Country New Road, Mother Falcon, Slint, Pixies
Country: United Kingdom
Release date: 22 February 2025

Of all the infamously terrible, “so bad it’s good” albums throughout music history, few have a story as fascinatingly tragicomic as The Shaggs‘ Philosophy of the World. The band was composed of three sisters with zero musical training who were abruptly handed guitars and drums and forced into making an album by their overbearing father in an effort to fulfill a palm-reading prophecy (yes, really). The end result was, predictably, an incompetent, untuned mess with an incomprehensible sense of rhythm, yet there was something about its utter naivete about the very basics of music that was uniquely charming, and it would garner such high-profile admirers as Frank Zappa and Kurt Cobain over the years. Even now, songs such as “My Pal Foot Foot” are inspiring new artists, including a certain group of musicians from Bristol who named their band after the song, and not, as some might suppose, a foot fetish or a disdain for the metric system. Can they recreate the same level of charm as their namesake disasterpiece on debut still waters, empty house, minus the “disaster” part?

Ironically, for a band named after a group whose draw largely lay in their complete disconnect from any recognizable musical influences, foot foot draw their sound from a very specific time and place. Namely, they are a clear product of the “Windmill Scene”, the pack of erratic British post-punk bands such as Black Country New Road, black midi, and Squid that changed the lives of an entire generation of terminally online music nerds. Among those, they sit close to the BCNR end of the spectrum, with a predilection for languid yet emotionally driven post-rock buildups broken up by interjections of dissonant chaos, combined with lush orchestrations offering plenty of sax and violin. However, foot foot has a vibe all their own, largely due to Esther Pollock’s vocals. In stark contrast to, say, the anguished emotionality of Isaac Wood or the rapid-fire mania of Geordie Greep, Pollock’s voice is hushed and feather-light throughout, with a flat, distant affectation that feels more and more uncanny as the music behind her grows increasingly unsettled. Her floaty, indie-girl whisper singing comes off as a hollow facade of pleasantness, never once raising its intensity even over the shapeshifting, dissonant riffs of “Rivers Phoenix/Macaulay Culkin” or the frenetic, nervy rhythms of “Crawl Ball”. It makes for a hauntingly effective contrast, especially given the lyrics that touch upon abandonment, depression, and codependency.

Overall, still waters, empty house feels like a dream, for both good and ill. It’s sometimes ethereally beautiful, sometimes ugly and frightful, but beneath it all there’s an undercurrent of unreality, like it’ll all stop making sense if you look at it too closely. Even in its calmer moments, such as the otherwise straightforward indie rock of “Army Wives” and the soft ballad “Everyman”, something about the harmony feels wrong, with just enough dissonance that it feels like looking at your bedside lamp and realizing it’s not casting any shadows. And yet, there are moments where these clouds of harmonic uncertainty part and let a gorgeous ray of musical sunlight through, and it’s an absolute revelation. Take, for instance, the downright euphoric cresting wave of strings and percussion that forms the climax of album highlight “Soft Mints”, or the wall of violins and guitar feedback in the aptly titled “Slow Song” that feels as weepingly, monumentally glacial as a melting Arctic ice sheet. Sam Greenwood’s violin work in particular sets the tone excellently throughout, leading the way through gentle, serene melodies, manic bursts of energy, and everything in between.

Unfortunately, foot foot do have a few awkward stumbling blocks that keep still waters, empty house from becoming a true RYM-core classic. My biggest problem with the album comes with its occasionally excessive and clumsy implementation of its more chaotic passages. For music like this, dissonance is like cumin—a useful spice, but one that can easily overpower the whole dish if not used in moderation, and for the most part the band seems to understand that. However, there are a few places where they go overboard, most egregiously in opener “Haberdashery” where Evo Ethel delivers a truly wretched saxophone solo, a blast of nonsensical squawking that sounds like Ornette Coleman choking to death while giving fellatio to a balloon animal. And while they can certainly play their instruments, there is a bit of The Shaggs in how loose and occasionally sloppy the band are in matching their rhythms with one another. Sometimes this comes off as refreshingly organic, like in “Soft Mints” where Jesse Pollock’s ever-so-slightly out of time bass lends the music a giddy, heartbeat-skipping feel. In “Rivers Phoenix/Macaulay Culkin”, though, when the rhythm section is left alone to play a menacing odd-meter riff between louder, more cacophonous passages, their frustratingly inconsistent pocket ends up sapping the momentum in places where a tighter groove would have added to it greatly.

The hard part about numerical scores like the one below is they only give an album’s mean quality, with no information on its variance. Most of the time, when an album gets this score, it’s a safe, inoffensive listen that manages “pretty good” but fails to strive for anything greater. still waters, empty house is the exact opposite, a pendulum chaotically swinging about three points in either direction between the transcendent and the grating. Like their namesake, foot foot have found a sound that, perhaps unintentionally, blends elements of genius and incompetence. However, they’ve flipped the ratio on its head; while Philosophy of the World was a record mostly composed of garbage elevated by glimmers of accidental brilliance, foot foot have made a generally very strong album whose few yet crucial flaws hold it back from greatness. Perhaps more than most records we review here, though, still waters, empty house shows immense potential; if the band can clean up the messy spots in their musicianship and hone in on the vein of potent emotions they’ve already begun to mine, they’ll make something truly special. I don’t need a palm reading to tell me that much.

Recommended tracks: Soft Mints, Slow Song
You may also like: Cime, Eunuchs, The Sonora Pine, Henry Cow
Final verdict: 6.5/10

Related links: Bandcamp | Spotify | Instagram

foot foot is:
– Esther Pollock (vocals, guitars)
– Jesse Pollock (bass)
– Llyr Cox (drums, cello)
– Sam Greenwood (violin)
– Evo Ethel (saxophone)

The post Review: foot foot – still waters, empty house appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: Neoclassical darkwave (Clean vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Björk, Lingua Ignota, Anna von Hausswolff
Country: United Kingdom
Release date: 21 February 2025

The approach to intimate topics in music is as varied as musicians themselves. Artists such as The Mars Volta like to bury their ideas under layers of symbolism, urging listeners to pry deeper and piece lyrics together themselves, while artists like Mount Eerie couldn’t be any more direct in their painfully raw prose. Maud the Moth, moniker of Scottish composer and healthyliving vocalist Amaya López-Carramero, aims for a balance of these two approaches on latest release The Distaff, exploring her emotions in a way that is at times arcane and at other times steamrolls the listener with powerfully blunt sentiment. Does her brand of lyricism reach through to the listener, or does The Distaff leave us spinning up our own interpretations into wool?

A sharp surrealist bent envelops The Distaff’s neoclassical darkwave, manifesting through López-Carramero’s use of voice effects (“Canto de Enramada”), abrasive industrial sounds (“Exuviae”, “A Temple by the River”), and morphing, non-linear song structures (“Despeñaperros”). A pithy elevator speech for the album would probably say something like ‘a soul-bearing operatic recital set in the middle of a fever dream’. Most tracks indulge in loungey, serpentine piano swirling around López-Carramero’s extensive vocal range, reaching powerful climaxes that tap into heavy and doomy guitar distortion. At other times, the piano channels an otherworldly atmosphere and tonality similar to that found in Alora Crucible.

In the opening moments of “Canta de Enramadas”, juxtaposition is established as a central songwriting tenet: López-Carramero’s operatic, howling, and vocoder-laden performance counters the amorphous and swirling electronic backdrop in a way that terrifies yet feels utterly relatable in its intensity and pain. Later, “Exuviae” features tweeting birds and piano flourishes that are intermittently carved through by wailing industrial noises, conveying an impassioned search for pastoral catharsis that is haunted by the harsh and abusive machinations of mankind. López-Carramero takes virtually every opportunity to set up ideas of ‘polarity’, utilizing her stunning vocal range and a bevy of textures to paint compositions in a stark gray.

Juxtaposition is even evoked in The Distaff’s lyricism. Verses are wont to oscillate between crystal-clear mental imagery and inscrutable symbolism while still retaining an intimate feel. Lines like ‘Kindred bodies dissolve / Dehooved and mute in the barn’ from “Fiat Lux” and ‘Bewildered, he entered the bodies of both of them / Poisoned vine / And the ditch chokes the vine / Black plague at the root’¹ from “Canto de Enramada” recall the visceral uncanniness found in, for example, The Mars Volta’s Frances the Mute. On the flip side, “A Temple by the River” repeatedly calls out ‘My body is not enough’ in woeful capitulation, a striking and heartbreakingly concrete lament, while “Exuviae” proclaims ‘Inside me there’s a crack / Where the light can never reach’, heavily infusing The Distaff with sentiments of inadequacy and unworthiness.

Despite the relative simplicity of its compositions, The Distaff showcases a remarkable density in its winding Impressionist ideas. The waxing and waning of “Despeñaperros” is undoubtedly cinematic, bringing together dramatic doomy climaxes and plaintive piano through a narrative of death and change. Whereas “Despeñaperros” wanders far from its beginnings, “A Temple by the River” takes a more circular approach, returning to its home idea after a dramatic string-led adventure through marsh and prairie. While this is by and large a positive for The Distaff, pieces like “Burial of the Patriarchs” wander a bit too much, its individual parts pleasant but difficult to follow. When paired with dense and cryptic lyricism, it’s easy to completely lose your footing and be pulled out of the experience entirely for a moment. Additionally, some tracks unsatisfyingly stay in the same place for too long: “Siphonophores”, for example, sits in a lilting piano idea for most of its duration that leaves too little to grab onto or follow, even with the inclusion of its harsh industrial flourishes and decent climax near the end.

Occasionally challenging and always dense, The Distaff is a work that revels wholly in juxtaposition. Amaya López-Carromero is eager to evoke a deeply personal internal sorrow but reticent to reveal it all at once, casting a shroud through surreal-yet-intimate imagery and Impressionist-yet-heavily-textured songwriting. Many of The Distaff’s passages feel borne of something wholly inhuman and yet still manage to effortlessly strike at the soul through a clever balance of dreamlike intangibility and material prosody. Though its ideas occasionally get lost in themselves and leave little for the listener to glean, The Distaff is willing to open itself up to you as much as you open yourself to it.

Recommended tracks: A Temple by the River, Despeñaperros, Exuviae, Fiat Lux
You may also like: Ophelia Sullivan, Mingjia, Alora Crucible, healthyliving
Final verdict: 7.5/10

Related links: Bandcamp | Spotify | Facebook | Instagram

Label: Independent

Maud the Moth is:
– Amaya López-Carromero (vocals, piano, psaltery, percussion)
– Scott McLean (guitar, moog, saxophone)
– Sebastian Rochford (drums)
– Alison Chesley (cello)
– Fay Guiffo (violin)

1. This is a rough translation from Spanish. Here are the original lyrics: ‘Fuera de si, se adentró en el cuerpo de las dos / Sarmiento envenenado / Y la acequia ahoga la vid / Peste negra en la raíz’ ︎

The post Review: Maud the Moth – The Distaff appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: progressive metal, power metal, hard rock (clean vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Dream Theater, Avantasia, Cain’s Offering, Michael Romeo
Country: Sweden
Release date: 21 February 2025

Derek Sherinian shreds the keys as a guest on a track from every other mediocre prog metal album we get a promo for; it’s become a bit of a joke around here how busy the ex-Dream Theater keyboardist is. On the other hand, Enbound stick out from the droves of other C-tier prog metal bands with their guest feature: Kevin Moore. Dream Theater’s OG keyboard maestro is elusive in the prog world, his last studio album over a decade ago with OSI and the last feature in general on Avandra’s 2019 opus. He’s a busy doctor in real life, and despite his prodigious talent—I mean listen to those atmospheres on Images and Words—music is no longer his passion. Yet Swedish power/prog outfit Enbound hooked the man enough for a guest feature on Set It Free’s closer “Leave Them to Night.” I am so intrigued by how they possibly lured the man out of his musical retirement, I have no choice but to review Enbound’s third LP. 

I won’t leave you hanging: “Leave Them to the Night” is a decent track, but I am devastated to announce that ol’ Kevin Moore doesn’t add anything. The piano softly arpeggiates underneath the ballad-y intro and adds some backing atmospherics throughout the main melody and chorus, but that’s about all he contributes. The highlight of the track is a damn guitar solo. What a letdown. Thankfully, Set It Free isn’t a disappointing listen on the whole; in fact, Enbound’s brand of AOR-tinged power/prog is infectious and fun at its best, redolent of Avantasia as well as Enbound’s Scandinavian peers like Stratovarius and Cain’s Offering.

Enbound find their groove at their power metal-iest, when the synths are over-the-top, the choruses bold and cheesy, and the guitar solos shreddy. For instance, the pre-chorus in “Maximize,” with its multi-part vocal lines, is exaggerated and fun, but the chorus it explodes into is as uplifting and sing-along as one could want from a power/prog act. The other standout track, “Black,” reminds me of Michael Romeo’s War of the Worlds, Marvin Flowberg’s guitar line much more technical on the track than the rest of Set It Free. Flowberg’s playing has some swagger throughout Set It Free, and his solos are reliably the best moments on several tracks—“Assaulted Taste,” “Set It Free,” and “Leave Them to the Night” among them. 

Enbound’s energy is often infectious, but without much variation in tempo and track structure, Set It Free is boring; the band really needs to Let it Loose. All of the members are killer musicians—even the drums, which normally are far too repetitive in power metal, are incredibly dynamic with plenty of creative fills—but for the most part it’s too hard rock and not enough prog. As it turns out, energetic and engaging are not synonymous, and the middle third of the album is, unfortunately, quite forgettable— tracks like “Invincible” and “You Never Walk Alone” are simply too cliched to stick. 

I have no idea what type of voodoo magic Enbound possess that got Kevin Moore interested enough in this project to feature because Set It Free is not deserving of his magical touch. It is, however, fun, and that’s what counts at the end of the day. When I want complex power metal, Enbound won’t grab my attention over Symphony X or Angra, but for catchy and upbeat music—something for a light workout or to throw on after a depressing day at the office—one could do a lot worse than Set It Free.

Recommended tracks: Black, Maximize, Invincible
You may also like: Pagan’s Mind, Pyramaze
Final verdict: 6/10

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

Label: Embrace the Fear – Official Website

Enbound is:
– Swede (bass)
– Mike Force (drums)
– Andy (guitars)
– Toby (vocals)

The post Review: Enbound – Set It Free appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: post-metal, atmospheric metal (instrumental)
Recommended for fans of: Aesthesys, Caspian, Explosions In The Sky
Country: Belgium
Release date: 14 February 2025

I feel bad for any band with fewer than four members. It seems like every single person, upon finding out the lineup, is obliged to comment “Wow, I can’t believe this was made by so few people!” Well, I definitely believe that Black Narcissus consists of only two musicians, but not in a bad way; the two-man scope allows for a careful balancing act whose precision might be lost in the chaos of a larger band. There Lingers One Who’s Long Forgotten has the feeling of an intimate chamber performance with a limited audience, its sound shaped by the natural acoustics of a small concert hall. In their recital, Black Narcissus unite a particularly ambient emptiness with the semi-darkness of post-metal, arriving at a middle ground that seems like it should inherit the best of both worlds, but this collision of styles doesn’t always turn out as harmonious as expected.

As Black Narcissus put on this private performance, the biggest feature that stands out is their unique timbre achieved by using bass as the primary melodic instrument. For example, at around 5:15 of “Draped in Ivy, Guilded by Time” comes a moment of light, ethereal harmony that’s difficult to imagine being achieved with a typical guitar-first roster, but also sounds totally detached from the low rumbles normally associated with bass parts. In contrast, “These Hands That Build” or “In Throes of Increasing Wonder” each open with more traditional low, clear bass sounds, placing heavy emphasis on what would normally be a rhythm section of drums and bass, with only minimal attempts at a melody using the bass’s higher range. Even then, clearing the middle frequencies of raucous guitar tones leaves all the more space for rich bass to shine through and finally receive the attention it has long deserved. Later in the album, “Something Strange and Eternal” and closing track “A Story and a Friend” take a slightly different approach, still highlighting the low bass in places, but also taking care to steadily develop more and more thin layers on top, building up the initial ambient atmosphere into more substantial melodies that nevertheless retain the core beautiful, expansive experience that began each track.

This two-member project is also a tale of two distinct albums: one heavy post-metal pile of distortion and one atmospheric chillfest. Jarringly, the seams between these two faces of There Lingers One often run right down the middle of a track, jumping from spaced-out ambiance to weighty distorted despair in a blink, only to do the reverse a few minutes later—like Jekyll and Hyde at a shoegaze festival. The opener “On This Twilight Evening” feels especially off balance as the first touch of that heavier side enters at the 3:30 mark with little transition or fanfare, a non sequitur to everything that came before that moment. While the final third of the track shifts into a compromise of mobile, lightly fuzzy melodies against a soft background, the track as a whole feels divided and unfocused, a theme that will continue throughout the album. Opening the second half, “It Calls, It Beckons, It Guides Us Through the Gloom” makes the same error, laying out alternating scenes of pastoral countryside and storm-lashed cliffs next to each other with little obvious rhyme, reason, or musical connection from one to the next. Where There Lingers One’s longest track could have been an opportunity for deep development of one cohesive mood, we’re instead left with a jumble of disjointed parts. Some of those parts may be individually ear-catching, but their summation detracts from the end result rather than adding to it.

As my part of the world transitions from a frigid winter into a spring drenched in snowmelt, these internally conflicted tracks put me in mind of a cold morning after a night of warm rain. Wispy clouds slowly gather around the music, until a cold, dark wind blows through, driving them away and dispelling the ambiance; equally, those misty mornings lack something of a chill bite that could be borrowed from the frosty afternoon distortion that follows. In either case, the air is just too clear and empty for a proper fog to settle. Black Narcissus struggle with this dichotomy that pervades most post- and ambient music: the divide between heavy and light, between busy and empty, between too much and too little. The dividing line can be extremely fine—preferences for one side or the other are a matter of personal taste, but a piece of music falling just barely too far in either direction can be enough to ruin the experience for any given listener. Personally, as one of the more outspoken post-rock and -metal fans at The Progressive Subway, even during quiet, reverb-y moments, I want depth that I can explore. I prefer a pile of harmonies and complex rhythms to appreciate, not just some faded-out rhythm guitar (or in this case bass) playing simple melodies over a soft drum part as if applying an ambient style to an unconventional combination of rock instruments is automatically cool. There Lingers One shows a clear conflict between extremes of style, and most of the time I’m left wishing for any other band with a better sense of balance.

Black Narcissus get top marks for aesthetic, and their occasional moments of brilliant beauty can briefly carry the listener’s interest, but those moments remain too rare. Their soundscapes carry a gorgeous emptiness undercut by their tendency to blend in distracting distortion where greater impact could be achieved by leaving those graceful expanses unblemished. It’s not impossible to craft an album that straddles the line between light and heavy as There Lingers One Who’s Long Forgotten attempts to, but in this case the imperfect balance undermines both aspects rather than each of them supporting the other. Strong artistic sensibilities aren’t always enough to produce a compelling end product, and for all of Black Narcissus’s artistry, their vision manifests primarily in a fragmented, unbalanced mosaic. Its extremes fall a little too far on either end of the color spectrum, while the central image is left with jagged edges, making it difficult to pick out, like lingering, fragmented memories of one long forgotten.

Recommended tracks: These Hands That Build, Something Strange and Eternal, In Throes of Increasing Wonder, A Story and a Friend
You may also like: Downriver Dead Men Go, Midas Fall, The Depth Beneath Us, Helen Money
Final verdict: 6/10

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

Label: Dunk! Records (Europe) – Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Website
A Thousand Arms Music (US) – Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Website

Black Narcissus is:
– Jesse Massant (bass)
– Thomas Wuyts (drums)

The post Review: Black Narcissus – There Lingers One Who’s Long Forgotten appeared first on The Progressive Subway.