Album art by Devilnax

Style: Progressive metal, progressive rock (clean vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Leprous, Porcupine Tree, Fates Warning, Pain of Salvation, Riverside, Agent Fresco
Country: Italy
Release date: 23 August 2024

If you’ve spent any time on the internet, you will have seen the phrases “copium” and “hopium” in all sorts of memes—from denial about their favorite manga character being dead¹ to wish-thinking Time II into existence (thanks Jari, you finally did it) to a hypothetical third party winning the US elections—their usage is rarely anything more than half-serious. When one of my main underground² darlings Kingcrow announced that their new album was titled Hopium—most likely blissfully unaware of internet meme culture—I had to do a double-take to rewire my brain because I knew for certain that these guys were serious about it.

Hopium continues in the rhythmical, electronic direction of The Persistence but is far less bleak in tone and brings back some of the band’s eclecticism of old in the form of zany electronic synths and latin guitar playing. In essence, Hopium is less mood piece and more prog, its experimentation not necessarily for any deep emotional effect as much as Kingcrow were just messing around for the thrill of it. Not that Kingcrow will ever completely ditch their dramatism or heartfelt sadness, but songs like “Parallel Lines” with its zany trance synths and sexy guitar solo or “Night Drive” with its mechanical synths and grinding riff in its final minutes are less moody and are mostly just really damn cool. Above all else, Hopium is a fun, dynamic prog metal album with high technicality, strong vocal melodies, nifty experimentation, interesting twists and turns, and a dark undercurrent of tasteful melodrama tying it all together.

Honestly, there is so much to discuss that I don’t even know where to begin praising the record. Should I talk about “Glitch” and its sing-along chorus that might be chorus of the year for how incredibly hype it is? Or perhaps you want to know about the stunning climaxes of “Parallel Lines” and its cacophony of polyrhythmic mastery and brooding synths, or “Losing Game” that erupts after repeatedly chanting “Now the curtain has fallen” over an increasingly anxious rhythm? Maybe it’s better to first talk about how the band still writes incredible mood pieces when they so desire like “New Moon Harvest”, “Night Drive”, and the title track? And what about the superb individual performances? 

That last part is probably worth expanding upon: Kingcrow is exceedingly rhythmical on Hopium, having drums, bass, guitars, synths, and sometimes even vocals work in tandem to create a tapestry of rhythmic elements that come together in a way that is as groovy as it is melodic and textured. Though I lack the vocabulary to do it justice, Thundra Cafolla lays down a monumental performance on drums. On previous albums he tended to play in a more understated way, often hiding polyrhythms in parts that seemed straightforward, but on tracks like “Parallel Lines” or “Vicious Circle” he really lets loose and the result is phenomenal. On guitars, Diego Cafolla and Ivan Nastisic provide a colorful twin attack, their styles ranging from sexy latin acoustic, to urgent Fear of a Blank Planet-era Porcupine Tree hard rock, to textural fingerpicking, to Leprous-esque staccato riffs, and more. I do still miss the guitar solos that The Persistence largely did away with as those were some of my favorites in the entire genre, but the two that we do get in “Parallel Lines” and in “New Moon Harvest” are incredible. Finally, Diego Marchesi sings his heart out, showing a newfound level of vulnerability in his voice on the softer parts—“New Moon Harvest” and “Come Through” being especially touching—and just being all around excellent otherwise.³

However, I do have some minor criticisms about Hopium. Primarily, the latter half of the album misses some of the urgency and faster pacing of the first half. Four out of five tracks are either slow burners or mood pieces, and though “Vicious Circle” is tighter and more upbeat, its pacing doesn’t come close to the final chorus of “Glitch” or the adrenaline-fueled latin fingerpicking of “Losing Game”. Furthermore, its chorus is the weakest one on the album. These issues compound and make the second half feel a bit slow and bloated even if everything besides the aforementioned chorus is great individually. Otherwise, the opener “Kintsugi” has an incredibly infectious main groove and chorus, but its ABAB structure doesn’t progress much at all and could have benefitted from either an interesting twist or two, or some flashy showmanship. None of these issues break the album or anything, but they do hamper its sky-high potential a bit.

Hopium provides an interesting development of Kingcrow’s sound, taking the electronic approach of The Persistence and marrying it to the eclecticism and extroversion of their earlier work, yielding an experience that is both deeply emotional and intellectually challenging. Though its second half can be a bit slow, the depth and sheer cool-factor of their writing more than makes up for it. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to whiff some Hopium that their next album won’t take another six years to release.⁴

Recommended tracks: Glitch, Parallel Lines, Losing Game
You may also like: Ions, Temic, Rendezvous Point
Final verdict: 8/10

1. LOOKING AT YOU, GOJO FANS ︎
2. Well, not anymore. They were well over our monthly listener cap for the majority of the year so we’re only getting to it now. ︎
3.  Sorry Riccardo Nifosi: I have a terrible ear for bass, but I’m sure you did just as well! ︎
4.  Waiter, waiter! Could I order some more guitar solos as well? ︎

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

Label: Season of Mist – Bandcamp | Facebook

Kingcrow is:
– Diego Marchesi (vocals)
– Diego Cafolla (guitars, keyboards, backing vocals)
– Ivan Nastasic (guitars, backing vocals)
– Riccardo Nifosi (bass, backing vocals)
– Thundra Cafolla (drums, percussion)

The post Missed Album Review: Kingcrow – Hopium appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

No one’s credited for the artwork, but I can only assume The Loot Experiment did it.

Style: Progressive metal (instrumental)
Recommended for fans of: Plini, Animals as Leaders, Dream Theater, Native Construct
Country: United Kingdom
Release date: 26 December, 2024

For about six months last year, something strange happened. I didn’t listen to even the slightest bit of metal, and instead, turned my attention to rap. After watching Kendrick Lamar’s brutal murder of the artist formerly known as Drake, I couldn’t help but be astounded at the innovation on what I consider to be the weakest link of the entire genre: the diss track. Instrumental prog is a lot like a diss track in the way I feel both serve absolutely no purpose—until they do. For every ‘Meet the Grahams’, there’s a thousand manufactured beefs for publicity’s sake. For every Conquering Dystopia, there’s a million other bands who really, really want to be Intervals.

Even in my days of thinking that r/progmetal gave good recommendations, I never understood the obsession with Sithu Aye and Scale the Summit. Talented as they are, it all amounts to a whole lot of showing off without the songwriting to back it up. “But Zach, you idiot!” I hear you shout, “You like tech-death! What about that?” Well, for every Archspire, there are many more Brain Drills. What separates the two examples above is allowing the melodic instrumentals to shine above a sea of blast-beats and rapid-fire growls, and to give the songs room to breathe despite a blazing fast tempo. Keith Merrow and Jeff Loomis of Conquering Dystopia err more on the side of death metal stylings, making their instrumentals stand out without a screaming vocalist to back them up. There’s only so many scales that can be innovated on before all you’re doing is playing a Plini song in a different order.

The Loot Experiment is neither Sithu Aye nor Plini, where he’s built up enough of a following to sustain himself: TLE is a guy, a guitar, and a dream. Andy reviewed his last EP, Into the Ether, early last year, which was a showcase of someone with a lot of raw talent and none of the songwriting chops to back it up. Couple that with an amateurish, self-made production job, and you’ve got yourself a record that nobody but Andy and his infinite spreadsheet remembered much of anything about. But now, TLE is back with a vengeance, ready to show the world what he and his incredible shredding skills are capable of.

Without a well-known master-er (Jamie King of Between the Buried and Me fame), there’d basically be nothing on Fractured Realty to talk about. This is paint by numbers prog metal, right down to the very first riff. Chug-diggy-diggy-chug-chug. You have heard this in a million different variations, and even if the record started with generic, space-y synths, I’d have preferred it to this. ‘Terraformer’ sets the tone of this album all too well, and when TLE is done tearing up that riff, he goes into a lead section that’s about as interesting as watching glaciers move.

In the entire twenty-minute runtime, not a single interesting section or riff appears. TLE defaults to the standard chugga-chugga with your standard minor scale runs and shreds in between. 

On repeat. 

Forever. 

With ‘Terraformer’ basically being the same two sections twice over, I didn’t have high hopes for ‘Maadi’. And what do you know? More of the same. It’s almost as if TLE is afraid to innovate on an already beaten formula, and I’m not quite sure why. Every song’s lead section feels like TLE is holding back when he should be shredding, and shredding when he should be letting the rest of the programmed band speak for themselves.

Jamie King’s spit-shine and polish can only add so much to Fractured Reality. And yet, I certainly can’t call TLE a bad musician—because he’s not. Like his debut, there’s a shit-ton of raw talent here that needs other ideas in the pot to balance it all out. Not every song needs ten-thousand guitar effects to be interesting, nor does every riff need to be mind-numbingly rhythmic. Not every one-man band is Dessiderium, and another person to help beef up the songwriting is maybe just what this project needs for success.

The Loot Experiment, my hat goes off to you. Finding yourself amidst a sea of artists all doing the same thing, and attempting to charge forth and carve your name must be terrifying. As a musician who’s far too nervous to upload anything of his own, I commend the effort you put into crafting this album. However, stop trying to innovate on the diss track of prog-metal. Instru-prog can and only will be pushed so far by the titans of the genre, and you have to take a step back and ask yourself where it’s going wrong. You can’t stand out when everyone’s doing much of the same.

Recommended tracks: Fractured Reality
You may also like: The Dark Atom, Regressor
Final verdict: 4.5/10

Related links: Bandcamp | Spotify

Label: Unsigned

The Loot Experiment is:
– Mark Harding (everything)

The post Review: The Loot Experiment – Fractured Reality appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: Sludge Metal, Post-Hardcore, Alt Metal (mostly clean vocals)
Recommended for fans of: The Ocean, AFI, Mastodon
Country: Washington D.C., United States / Croatia
Release date: 16 August 2024

“Hello and welcome to The Progressive Subway!” a voice bellows from the sky.

 – “Ah! What? Who are you? What’s going on?”

“You’ll be listening to Wings Denied for your test review.”

 – “Test review? What?”

“Croatian band. You’ll need these.” A pair of waders materializes in mid-air in front of me, then falls, the rubber slapping onto the ground. “For the sludge.”

Fearing for my own safety, I do what is asked of me, don my new outfit, and drop a needle onto digital vinyl (I open Spotify) to listen to Wings Denied‘s sophomore release, Just the Basics.

…

Solidly sludge metal, this new album showcases a modest range of moods and styles. On Just the Basics, Wings Denied lean heavily on their pop sensibilities, only occasionally experimenting with meter, instrumentation, and song structure. The band wear their influences on their sleeves, but seem to have difficulty merging those ideas into a coherent theme. This album is more of a chain composed of links of different kinds of metal than an alloy formed by successfully melding those ideas together.

Opener “Plastic Tears” introduces most of the sonic themes heard throughout Just the Basics: clean, soaring vocals; sludgy, churning bass; twisty, shifting rhythms; and intricate, walking riffs. As with most of the following songs, this one unfortunately also seems to suffer an over-reliance on the chorus (repeated perhaps one too many times) and a missing middle, balancing – sometimes precariously – between sludgy lows and piercing solos, without much solid ground in the middle of that harmonic range.

The second track, “Black Legend”, is such a contrast from the first that it almost sounds like a different band. While “Plastic Tears” shows strong sludge / classic doom metal influence, the uptempo “Black Legend” is much more punk, with its snare-and-cymbal drumming, verse-chorus pop structure, and bass which has been mixed all the way back so that it’s hardly audible under the guitars. The first guitar solo of the album appears here, as well, at 2:25, and while nothing jaw-dropping, it serves the song well and doesn’t overstay its welcome.

Abrupt stops in a handful of tracks on the album occasionally kill the momentum, often without leading into a satisfying drop or breakdown, which might make those short, sharp shocks worthwhile. “Lost in It All”, for example, features some of my favourite musical ideas on Just the Basics. It’s such a departure from the first three tracks: jazzy, airy, sultry. Like Christmas chocolates that have melted a bit from sitting too close to the fireplace, it oozes and flows in a supremely satisfying way. But a break at 0:42, followed by a pop-rock metal chorus, drops the listener in a bucket of ice water. The second verse brings back that oozing chocolate sound, but it’s hard to enjoy it the second time around. (“Fool me once…”) This track, like “Plastic Tears”, could do with a bit more development (maybe an extended verse, or a second bridge), rather than relying on the chorus to pad the runtime.

The next track, “Lifebroker”, is the only non-single off of this album with more than 1000 listens on Spotify, and for good reason: it’s a banger. “Lifebroker” enters on a churning, steam engine of a riff. An abrupt break starts the verse, which causes the song to lose a bit of the momentum it had at the outset, but it manages to recover and maintain that energy moving forward. The climbing bridge around 2:45 is one of the best riffs on this album by far, and wouldn’t be out of place on something by Mastodon. This song has a good energy, and I think is pretty representative of this band’s general sound.

The rhythms on “Saudade” make this Just the Basics’ stand-out track: the section beginning at 2:05 sounds to be in 12/8, but the guitars bob and weave around the rhythm section here, making it difficult to count on first listen. There is another abrupt break at 2:24 into a much quieter section, where twinkly guitars and vocals are soon joined by sparse drums, followed by strings and bass. 3:27 brings in a somber refrain (“we’re very sorry for your loss, he was a brave man”), which builds in intensity and sincerity until the mood is abruptly shattered not once, but twice. “Saudade” is “an emotional state of melancholic or profoundly nostalgic longing for a beloved yet absent someone or something”. Perhaps the abrupt changes of mood—from raging and chaotic; to disbelief, repeating the words delivered to the bereaved over and over; and back to anger—are meant to represent the tug-of-war between anger, denial, and depression, which those who have grieved for a loved one know well. “Saudade” is one of the strongest efforts on this album, by far.

Just the Basics is a solid effort: a mostly-sludge, mostly-metal album that leans heavily on pop song structure, punctuated by moments of impressive songwriting, both in terms of mood and melody. Wings Denied clearly have a wealth of great ideas, but these are diamonds in the rough; they need a talented producer to refine and polish them. I’m looking forward to moving past the basics.

…

P.S. Does anyone need a pair of waders?

Recommended tracks: Saudade, Mr. Nice Guy, Black Legend
You may also like: Exist Immortal, Aliases, Mycelia
Final verdict: 6/10

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

Label: Independent

Wings Denied is:
– Luka Kerecin (vocals)
– Zach Dresher (guitars, synths)
– Wes Good (bass)
– Alec Kossoff (drums, glockenspiel, backing vocals)

The post Missed Album Review: Wings Denied – Just the Basics appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: Technical death metal, progressive death metal (mostly harsh vocals)
Recommended for fans of: The Faceless, Obscura, Beyond Creation, The Zenith Passage
Country: Colorado, United States
Release date: 22 November 2024

I love extreme music, sure. But I still get a slight urge to roll my eyes when met with yet another sci-fi-themed tech death band—especially one whose debut album runs nearly an hour and is part one of what will evidently be a series. In a saturated subgenre of a subgenre, could it possibly live up to its intended musical grandeur? Well, actually, yeah… I’d say it does.

Exuvial is a Denver-based progressive and technical death metal band, and we know Denver is a breeding ground for boundary-pushing music: Blood Incantation’s spacey old-school death metal, Wayfarer’s Western-tinged black metal, tech death veterans Vale of Pnath, and so many others. Exuvial’s debut album, The Hive Mind Chronicles, Pt. 1: Parasitica (we’ll call it Hive Mind Pt. 1), fits right into the scene. Hive Mind Pt. 1 has a beefy, progressive metal frame—a generous runtime, space for instrumental and dynamic passages, and an ambitious concept and vision—that’s filled out with well-executed tech death.

Beginning with a four-part track spanning just short of twenty minutes, Hive Mind Pt. 1 reels you in with a few piano flourishes and chords, and then bashes you over the head with big, chunky riffing. Exuvial seems hellbent on touching every corner of the current tech death landscape. In short order, the band checks off modern tropes like glitchy rhythms, off-kilter riffs with a huge bottom end, noodly leads with complementing bass fills, and obligatory, heavily-effected clean vocals scattered along the way. But Hive Mind Pt. 1 doesn’t sound like a collection of songs that just enthusiastically emulate what’s in vogue. Each track, and indeed the album as a whole, unfolds in a way that sounds deliberate and coherent, even if sometimes predictable. 

As the four-part opener progresses, Exuvial shows off the band’s dynamic songwriting: frenetic riffs winding their way to massive, head-bangable resolutions (the final minute and a half of “Convergent Evolution”); a slower, atmospheric bridge driven by a locked-in rhythm section (the center of “Advent of Segmentation”); and, generally, a deft mixture of elements that makes the music both overtly melodic and crushingly heavy (evident in all of “Neural Convolution”). The rest of the album follows suit, never straying far from the opener’s formula or venturing much beyond the bounds of modern tech death. But it’s a formula that works—and the stellar performances and few surprises peppered throughout are enough to keep engagement high. The album’s top-notch production, being bright but not sterile and heavy but not muddy, helps further ensnare the listener.

As strong as it is, Hive Mind Pt. 1 doesn’t escape some of tech death’s common pitfalls. The album is not terribly unique or innovative, especially vocally; and the tracks aren’t always easy to distinguish from one another. While all enjoyable in their own right, much of “Holometabolous,” “Parasitica,” and the first half of “Necrotic Dissolution” lack a distinct identity. But the album does deliver some true stand-out moments: a highlight is the infectiously groovy riff smack in the middle of “Autonomic Awakening,” which the band builds upon and then exits perfectly into a fantastic set of melodic passages. The progressive, almost doomy “Subterranean Swarm” is another welcome change-up—although the track spends some of its time in territory that’s maybe too familiar. 

Defying my knee-jerk expectations, Exuvial’s debut justifies its runtime and ambitious concept. The album might not set the progressive or tech death worlds on fire, but Hive Mind Pt. 1 is crafted and produced excellently, positioning it as an undeniably strong entry in an undeniably strong year in extreme metal. Compositionally and instrumentally, the band simply does so many things right—a particularly impressive feat for a first record. Exuvial’s musicianship is tight, and they offer a robust collection of compelling musical ideas. If you like the modern brand of tech death, and if you like progressive death metal generally, do yourself a favor and join the hive mind.

Recommended tracks: the entire Hive Mind suite, Autonomic Awakening, Subterranean Swarm
You may also like: Blighted Eye, Vale of Pnath, Hath
Final verdict: 7.5/10

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

Label: Silent Pendulum Records – Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Website

Exuvial is:
– Ibrahim Jimenez (bass)
– Fernando del Valle III (guitars, vocals)
– Ethan Walden (guitars, vocals)
– Andrew Baird (drums)

The post Missed Album Review: Exuvial – The Hive Mind Chronicles, Pt. 1: Parasitica appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: progressive metal (clean vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Devin Townsend, SikTh, Bjork, Haken
Country: China
Release date: 26 April 2024

With the world’s second-largest population, China has a musical history spanning thousands of years. In spite of this, relatively few Chinese metal bands have reached Western audiences. OU (pronounced “oh”) is a four-piece group formed in Beijing in 2019. The band released debut album One in 2022; earnest and fresh-sounding, it didn’t register a strong impact on the seismograph of the progressive underground, but set expectations high for those who did take notice. 蘇醒 II: Frailty, released in 2024, sees the quartet return in an attempt to raise the bar again.

On the relatively uncluttered canvas of Chinese metal, OU has plenty of room to establish their own identity. While there are none of the bone flutes and plucked strings pervasive in the most well-known or stereotypical styles of Chinese traditional music, the band nonetheless incorporates the traditional when it comes to musical style and a few featured instruments, amidst a host of influences from across metal and other genres. All the lyrics are in Mandarin, with English translations listed alongside each track title; the overarching themes are inspired by Buddhist theology. The band’s sound flits across the map: their prog-metal core of exuberant, heavy buildups bursting at the seams is contrasted with electronica, ambient soundscapes, and dreamy vocal melodies.

The opening title track, “蘇醒 Frailty,” wastes no time showing us what’s in store, stacking up a wall of heavy, energetic sound that showcases the chops of everyone in the four-piece and then pulls back at all the right moments. Among the diverse musical DNA on display, there are hints of Haken and SiKth, but one of the more prominent influences is that of OU’s mentor/stan, prog metal hall-of-famer Devin Townsend. Having been paired up with the band at the suggestion of InsideOut label head Thomas Waber, Townsend subsequently served as a producer on Frailty, made more than a few posts on social media praising the band, and even made his Mandarin singing debut with a featured vocal performance. And speaking of that vocal feature, blaaaaghh – Heavy Devy starts off “淨化 Purge” with a scream, taking a backseat for the next part of the track before returning to underlay vocalist Lynn Wu’s melody with signature ragged-edged vocals. He feels a bit underused; the potency he brings makes the listener long to hear more of him.

Sometimes on 蘇醒 II: Frailty, you might think you know where a melody is going, but it zigs in a delightfully unexpected direction when you thought it would zag. This happens on a larger scale, too—instead of launching into another heavy riff after the softer, understated “血液 Redemption,” which feels like an interlude, OU takes us on a diversion into electronica-flavoured sounds with “衍生,” intriguingly translated as “Capture and Elongate (Serenity)”.

While 蘇醒 II: Frailty sits at a tight 42 minutes, and calling any of it filler would be a stretch, some tracks are more memorable than others. The second half of the album blurs a bit from one song to the next, with fewer of the Townsendian or Hakenesque buildups to smack you in the face, and the occasional passage that stretches past its natural lifespan, such as in the mostly instrumental track “歪歪地愛 yyds”.

Lyrically, it will be hard for the average Western listener to pull anything but the sparest hints as to the song’s themes, relying only on the English translations of song titles. Your mileage may vary here; prog metal has its fair share of cringey or overwrought lyrics, so it may be a welcome change for some to colour in their own interpretations between the lines of notions like rebirth, redemption, and cleansing.

Singer Lynn Wu’s voice has a thin, delicate quality to it, like a strong thread woven in and out over the instrumentals. Indeed, historically, Chinese vocal music tends to be sung in a non-resonant or falsetto voice. However, there are moments when Wu’s delivery hints at something richer and thicker, and 蘇醒 II: Frailty would benefit from leaning into these moments more. As for the other band members, you can sometimes get an inkling when the drummer is a band’s main songwriter, and that’s certainly the case here: Anthony Vanacore’s drumming is central and unrelenting in the album’s heavier moments. It also has djent-y undertones that might alienate some who dislike that style. By contrast, Zhang Jing on guitar and Chris Cui on bass are more like musical shapeshifters, molding unassumingly to the form of each track’s mood, be it heavy, ambient, or somewhere in between. There are also some tasty synth moments sprinkled throughout; they glitter and pop in “海 Ocean”, and bounce along spryly in “衍生 Capture and Elongate (Serenity)”.

Closer “念 Recall” builds a lush soundscape like falling raindrops, using only various percussion instruments and vocals. Onto this, a ‘recollection’ of a motif from 蘇醒 II: Frailty’s opening track is layered, the effect meditative and even hypnotic. The intricate textures gradually give way to an increasingly spare vocal/rhythmic pulse. “念 Recall” gives the listener plenty of space; perhaps you will use this time to meditate on the album’s overall effect. The countless details woven into 蘇醒 II: Frailty make denying the creativity, musicianship, and fresh, stimulating sound on display in this sophomore album all but impossible.

Recommended tracks: 蘇醒 Frailty, 淨化 Purge, 衍生 Capture and Elongate (Serenity), 念 Recall
You may also like: District 97, Kate NV
Final verdict: 7.5/10

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

Label: InsideOutMusic – Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Website

OU is:
– Lynn Wu 吴玲玲 (Vocals)
– Jing Zhang 张晶 (Guitar)
– Chris Cui 崔文正 (Bass)
– Anthony Vanacore 安咚咚 (Drums)

The post Missed Album Review: OU – 蘇醒 II: Frailty appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Artwork and Design by Sara-Jane Swettenham

Style: Stoner doom metal, progressive metal, hard rock (clean vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Green Lung, Elephant Tree, Khemmis
Country: United Kingdom
Release date: 15 November 2024

There are a few characteristics an album can have that signal it was meant for my ears. The Ghost of Badon Hill checked a few of those boxes before I even pressed play: A beautiful medieval art nouveau cover? Check. Connections to Arthurian and Celtic myth and history? Check. The album title itself calling out by name the place where Sir Robin–the not quite so brave as Sir Lancelot–personally wet himself? Hard check.

Badon Hill‘s flavor of stoner rock—at once different and the same to many of the genre’s standard bearers—is heady, ethereal, and mystic. You’ll certainly hear things that bring in an undeniable atmosphere on this album versus the straight tried and true style of say, a Red Fang release. That is to say, Sergeant Thunderhoof are not entirely focused on the bottom-heavy power chords; rather, Badon Hill features ample flowing guitar motifs that paint an audible picture for you, like in the quasi-title track and opener, “Badon,” which starts off with an eerie, melancholic acoustic dirge plucked under the tree of a whistled melody that brings in a little old-west solitude on top of this intro’s old-world spiritualism. On the other end, being true to its genre and laden with bluesy pentatonic sensibilities, some of the tracks on this forty-five minute six-shooter like “Salvation for the Soul” wouldn’t sound out of place coming from the jukebox of a mountain west biker bar.

The “ghost” of Badon Hill is, undoubtedly, vocalist Dan Flitcroft’s haunting and somber sense of melody. I’m the kind of listener that likes to attempt a sing or hum-along even on my first go-through (if I’m loving the vocals enough—which I was), and Flitcroft threw off my wonderful accompaniment by taking it in directions I didn’t expect in the tiniest of moments such as the bridge of “Blood Moon” or those vocal slides in “The Orb of Octavia.” And no doom infused album would be complete without some chunky down-tuned riffs, which this album most certainly isn’t lacking. Although my favorite guitar bits here actually come in the arpeggiated passages that bring in the psychedelic and moody elements to the aural realm we’re journeying through, like in “Sentinel” or the aforementioned “Blood Moon.”

Another aspect Ghost deserves credit for is its top-notch mastering and engineering. I listened to this album a few times for this review–with earbuds, with my over-the-ear headphones, and through my office stereo setup. Through each medium the sound was full and rich, like my favorite cups of coffee. I only have one nit to pick here, and it’s that at times the cymbals in the percussion aren’t as forward in the sound as I’d prefer. Sometimes I’m not even sure which type of cymbal is being hit. With only the prior exception, each element in the soundscape is almost perfectly leveled. Want to focus on the bass? Easy. The mid tom on the drum kit? That’s a little weird (and rarely makes an appearance) but go ahead, it’s there. As with any rock album worth its salt, the crunchy guitars and soaring vocals are the focal point of the mix, and like the finest of those albums they don’t bury everything else.

In all of Sergeant Thunderhoof’s full-length releases Ghost has the second quickest runtime. The shortest track on here is a quart short of six minutes. And on the whole I’d say a lot of these songs don’t have enough material to justify their individual lengths. With little exception they frequently run, progress, and end exactly where they started in terms of tempo, melody, and rhythm. That’s not to say they don’t change in some way. Badon Hill does not lack sonic texture—a track might get louder or quieter or more or less distorted by the end. But the building blocks of the songs stay a little too firmly planted. I was often checking the track progress bar to see how much time was left and wondering if something different was going to be thrown my way. Honestly, the closing track “Beyond the Hill” is a bit beyond the pale and feels like it goes on forever because of this despite the loveliness of the tune itself.

On the whole I absolutely enjoy what we get here; though, if we’re not going to be treated to much variety within the songs themselves, I’d almost rather the Hoof take a punk approach and give us twice as many songs at half the length. However, in my experience that’s not the stoner or doom rock style (nor the band’s, apparently) and in that sense The Ghost of Badon Hill adheres to the genre’s hallmarks.

Recommended tracks: “Blood Moon,” “Sentinel,” “Badon”
You may also like: The Once and Future King by T.H. White, Monolord, Sundrifter
Final verdict: 7/10

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

Label: Pale Wizard – Bandcamp | Website

Sergeant Thunderhoof is:
Mark Sayer – Guitars
Josh Gallop – Guitars and Backing Vocals
Darren Ashman – Drums
Dan Flitcroft – Vocals
Jim Camp – Bass

The post Missed Album Review: Sergeant Thunderhoof – The Ghost of Badon Hill appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: Avant-Garde Metal, Dissonant Death Metal (Harsh vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Deathspell Omega, Wormed, Warforged, demented Jazz Fusion
Country: Germany
Release date: 27 September 2024

Ingurgitating Oblivion is a band with a long, tumultuous history. Throughout the band’s course, they have changed their moniker once, altered their fundamental sound twice, and have gone through so many lineup changes that Florian Engelke is the only remaining original member of the band. It’s taken a long time for them to truly come into their own, with a good number of middling albums in their wake that didn’t quite touch greatness, but this album, with no fewer than six session musicians, can be aptly described as their greatest moment so far with Florian truly coming into his own.

Ontology of Naught presents you with long epics that divide pulverising, demented chaos with moments of dark, twisted serenity. The end product sounds quite a bit like a technical death metal take on Fas – Ite, maledicti, in ignem aeternum by Deathspell Omega, mixed with a bit of I: Voice by Warforged, and a healthy dose of the darker strains of jazz fusion with some occasional classical leanings. Dark Ambient aesthetics are also present, with a bit of spoken word elements sprinkled in. The style of harsh vocals Florian Engelke employs on the album is adjacent to that of Deathspell Omega’s, and it holds a candle up to their work.

Polarization defines Florian’s vision on Ontology of Naught. For instance, the guitar tone is an almost divisive choice; it’s as if the tone chosen was designed to sound as massive, incoherent, and noisy as possible. Ingurgitating Oblivion isn’t really going for a clear, distinct, and precise sound, but more of a jagged, abrasive wall-of-noise that completely overwhelms the listener. Beyond that, everything else feels mixed reasonably well: the drums feel well balanced and they don’t sit too far forward or behind things, and the same can be said for the vocals, which don’t overpower the riffs while still being powerful in their own right.

To make an album grappling with seriously unconventional forms and usages of dissonance, a variety of non-metal influences, and song lengths whose minimum starts at the ten minute mark is a deeply ambitious endeavor. However, what ultimately matters is whether or not what you are trying to do constitutes something that actually works—ambitions as lofty as these often fail at this step. The crux of what Florian is going for here is multifaceted, partly in how the chaos that is built into and granted reprieve from is justified, if the components of the chaos have enough of a diverse vocabulary in their insanity to not become monotonous or indistinct, and if they are balanced with more memorable motifs. Another important aspect is if the softer styles that contrast with the chaos are properly executed in a way that doesn’t feel cheap or amateur, and if the whole epic flows in a way that doesn’t feel completely incoherent or weak.

Florian takes a lot of risks in Ontology of Naught, and some of them do pay off. “Uncreation’s Whirring Loom You Ply With Crippled Fingers” is a great example, starting with an eerie ambience which introduces a simple motif that is expanded upon and returned to in the ensuing chaos. In “To Weave The Tapestry of Nought”, a great example of breakdown and buildup is shown at the midway point: A delirious gloom of vaguely jazzy harmonies swirl around a spoken word passage, which is followed by intricate rhythms below a choral accompaniment with a simple, soaring lead that serves as a bit of a motif. A solo builds before metal cacophony erupts and the solo explodes into almost atonal convulsions, after which the metal becomes much more brutal and rhythmic, like a machine gun being fired at your face.

Ontology of Naught is not without flaws and failed attempts, however. One of my biggest gripes with the album is its usage of spoken word elements, which while not inherently bad, are notoriously difficult to get right. Classic examples would be in death metal à la Carcass, who uses them to paint a gory scene, or Deathspell Omega, who employed them to great effect, staging them as if they were some kind of demonic, biblical sermon. On Ontology of Naught, however, the narration teeters on the precipice of pretension. Florian wants to evoke a sense of radical rebellion in these elements, as if you were listening to the ideologues that served as the vanguard of a revolution, but the effect isn’t quite as profound as he believes it to be.

In addition, there are questionable decisions in terms of flow at times. “The Blossoms of Your Tomorrow Shall Unfold in My Heart” is the biggest offender of this, with the track jumping into chaos that doesn’t really follow any intuitive sense, and then abruptly cuts to Florian’s take on jazz fusion. Following that is more chaos, which isn’t balanced by any motif nor coherently differentiated by other distinctions, as well as an attempt at choral intrigue followed by an ambient outro, none of which really work as a whole song.

Ontology of Naught is ultimately a noteworthy addition to the dissonant death metal genre. Questionable aesthetic and design choices do hold the album back to an extent, with a production job that is divisive, though not objectively bad. However, Florian manages to take on the difficult mantle of making unbridled bedlam into something memorable and distinct, and succeeds to a very commendable degree, with each epic balanced by their own unique aspects in both the extreme and the tranquil.

Recommended tracks: Uncreation’s Whirring Loom You Ply With Crippled Fingers, The Barren Earth Oozes Blood, and Shakes and Moans, to Drink Her Children’s Gore
You may also like: Ceremony of Silence, Mitochondrion, Acausal Intrusion, Defacement
Final verdict: 8/10

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

Label: Willowtip – Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Website

Ingurgitating Oblivion is:
– Florian Engelke (guitars, vocals)
– Norbert Müller (guitars)
– Lille Gruber (session drums)
– Chris Zoukas (session bass)

The post Missed Album Review: Ingurgitating Oblivion – Ontology of Nought appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: Progressive Metal, Djent (Mixed Vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Intervals, Monuments, Periphery
Country: New York, United States
Release date: 12 July 2024

Well, here we are. After thirteen years and a fakeout single (anyone remember “Riot Pt. 1”?), “Djazz” pioneers Ever Forthright have finally returned with their sophomore effort: Techinflux. Chris Baretto has been replaced on vocal duties by Mike Semesky (Intervals), but otherwise the lineup has remained unchanged besides the loss of keyboardist Kevin Theodore. Their self-titled debut is one of my personal favorite albums, so I had a sort of nervous excitement going into this release, and after a multitude of listens I must say… I am whelmed. I never truly expected this album to live up to the nostalgic, taste influencing effect the debut had on me, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t hoping they would prove me wrong. I was much more tangibly worried about the possibility this album would be a flop, but for some reason I never really considered the possibility that it would just be, well, pretty good. And that’s what we got. Techinflux is pretty good, even great at times, but that the band has been away for over a decade and are trying to find their footing again is obvious.

Compared to the debut, Techinflux takes two steps back and keeps one step planted firmly where it always has been. The music here still sounds like Ever Forthright, helping the experience along greatly, but is also the root cause of most of my disappointments with the release. Although jazz influence still pops up here and there, Techinflux is much less jazzy than its predecessor. Calling it an “influence” is much more apt describing this album, as before it was a foundational core of the sound. The song structures are much more simplified, mostly sticking to a “verse, chorus” style, and the pacing is pretty consistently midtempo. The group never really takes off like they did on songs like “All Eyes on the Earth” or “Spineless”, and the writing as a whole seems more constrained than before. While plenty of syncopation, harmonic fuckery and playing with expectations is to be had, Ever Forthright never reaches the level they achieved previously. “The Well” is the closest they get – the opening riff refuses to give the listener an anchor point and the song structure is generally more sporadic than the rest of the album – but even that song would have been one of the tamer ones on the debut. 

Credit where credit is due though, Ever Forthright still have some tricks up their sleeve, and they have the advantage of having first hand experience with the explosion of this kind of music in the early 2010’s. Some of this material was probably written during that time frame, or at least the scaffolding of some of these songs probably were. Certain stylistic choices hearken back to this early era of djent (synth choices, chugging syncopated riffs), plus one of the songs is literally called “Drop it like Harambe”… Cmon, really? Corny naming aside, the song is a good example of some of the idiosyncrasies of guitarist Nick Llerandi, who I am glad to see returning for this record. Some of the techniques that set him apart back in 2011 show up in the verse of this song around thirty seconds in; namely the clever play with subdivision that he has always been so good at, along with the creative use of sliding up or down to certain notes on the fretboard. Similarly, “Miso” is another standout guitar moment, the main riff on this track brings me right back to the early 2010’s. The patient, meandering groove is reminiscent of stuff Bulb, John Browne, or Mark Holcomb were doing at the time, and this riff probably ends up being my favorite of the lot. 

The rest of the band is equally competent performance-wise, and each track has a standout moment.. “Rancho Cucamonga” stands out as far as choruses go – I like how it subverts expectations during the second half by modulating up a half step. There are just enough smart songwriting decisions like this one littered throughout Techinflux to keep me coming back, and while this record can’t hold a candle to the self titled, it at least shows that Ever Forthright can still hold their own in the scene. Personally, I am hopeful that Techinflux is the primer these guys needed after thirteen years away, and that whatever comes next will see Ever Forthright reclaiming their throne within this slice of progressive metal. Also, more djazz please.

Recommended tracks: Rancho Cucamonga, The Well, Miso
You may also like: Circles, Kadinja, Aviations
Final verdict: 7/10

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

Label: Independent

Ever Forthright is:
– Mike Semesky (vocals)
–  Nick Llerandi (guitars)
– Jerad Lippi (drums)
– Jon Llerandi (bass)
– William Anderson (guitars)

The post Missed Album Review: Ever Forthright – Techinflux appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: symphonic deathcore, technical death metal (harsh vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Lorna Shore, Worm Shephard, Shadow of Intent
Country: Minnesota, United States
Release date: 3 May 2024

After Worm Shephard’s The Sleeping Sun was released in 2023 I truly thought that the genre of symphonic deathcore had found its crown jewel. Sure, Lorna Shore’s Pain Remains from the year prior gleamed brightly, but The Sleeping Sun delivered in spades the level of heaviness, grandeur, and bombast that the genre had been building towards for years. Like most deathcore releases, I eventually grew tired of The Sleeping Sun after a few months; perhaps I simply spun it too much, or perhaps, as I would come to learn, The Sleeping Sun was not the best symphonic deathcore had on offer. Enter genre greenhorns Synestia & Disembodied Tyrant.

Each with their own back catalogues of singles and full releases, the two man Synestia and one man Disembodied Tyrant each had pieces of the puzzle that eventually became the collaborative EP The Poetic Edda. Combining the symphonic bent of Synestia’s previous work with the sheer brutality and clever production skills of Disembodied Tyrant created a product so addictive that the DEA may as well list it as a schedule I substance. Across its four tracks, The Poetic Edda delivers pure unadulterated deathcore fun.

The EP begins with “Death Empress,” a stellar opening that clears the path for all to follow with its crystalline symphonic production and absolutely face-melting lead guitar tone. The track weaves its way through all the stylings of modern deathcore with ease and eventually climaxes with what very well may be the best breakdown of the year thanks to its clever use of synthesized symphonic elements and other various production trickery. Yes, the string sections and choral elements are synthesized—this is an underground deathcore band we’re talking about—but at no point did I feel that the synthesized elements detracted from the final product. If anything, it opened the release up to more creative expression as it was no longer limited by physical possibility.

“I, The Devourer” scales much of the same terrain as its predecessor, taking the listener through barked verses, symphonic segues, and catchy buildups. It also features one of my favorite moments from the EP where, at its halfway point, the track breaks into a metalcore-tinged riff that propels the song straight into the solo, another track highlight. Employing a style somewhere between that of Rings of Saturn and Lorna Shore, the leadwork in combination with the machine gun fire riffage beneath it combine to create something that could only be a product of the modern music age: utterly pristine and shimmering, yet addictive and just plain fun to listen to. 

The EP’s title track sounds a lot like the previous two tracks, and it is usually here in my listen-throughs where the release’s few flaws start to show. Like a lot of deathcore, The Poetic Edda only has a few truly solid ideas and it kinda beats them to death. Yes, each breakdown rips, but you can only listen to so many rhythmic escapades that sound as though they were composed via a series of elaborate dice rolls before things start to get a little tiresome. Yes, the lead guitar and violin sound amazing in unison, but you can’t do the same thing in back to back tracks, especially on a four track EP with so little time to deliver your point.

Thankfully, The Poetic Edda shakes off the dust with its final track, a reimagining of Vivaldi’s “Winter.” When I see The Poetic Edda referenced online, this track almost always gets the first mention and rightfully so. Even though you’ve heard all these melodies before (even if you don’t think you have, trust me), Synestia & Disembodied Tyrant are able to revitalize them with blast beats, breakdowns, and brutal barking vocals; the whole thing is just plain fun. The cover is so good in fact, that I hope both bands will be able to top it with later releases; we all know what happened to Alien Ant Farm. Thankfully, Disembodied Tyrant has already released the equally high quality The Tower: Part One which sees the one man band once again shedding the symphonicism for raw aggression, and I’m sure Synestia isn’t far behind with another release of their own. Regardless of the paths these bands take in the future, I just hope that they collaborate again because The Poetic Edda is too good to happen just once. It seems that symphonic deathcore has found its crown jewel, for now.

Recommended tracks: Death Empress, Winter
You may also like: Dragoncorpse, Vermilion Dawn
Final verdict: 8.5/10

Related links: Bandcamp: Synestia, Disembodied Tyrant | Spotify: Synestia, Disembodied Tyrant | Facebook: Synestia, Disembodied Tyrant | Instagram: Synestia, Disembodied Tyrant | Metal-Archives page: Synestia

Label: Independent

Synestia is:
– Sam Melchior (guitars, orchestrations)
– Ville Hokkanen (vocals)
Disembodied Tyrant is:
– Blake Mullens (vocals, guitars, orchestrations)
– Rene Gerbrandy (drums)

The post Missed Album Review: Synestia & Disembodied Tyrant – The Poetic Edda appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: Dark folk, Drone, Choral (Clean vocals, spoken word)
Recommended for fans of: Les Mystères des Voix Bulgares, Nytt Land
Country: The Netherlands, Belgium
Release date: 11 October 2024

Though religion has always been a guiding force in music, many artists in the modern day use ecclesiastical themes as a means to transcend religion, whether it be exploring sentiments unrelated to the church or as an act of religious subversion. Lingua Ignota’s Sinner Get Ready, for example, soaks itself in bloodstained religious fervor with the goal of processing a bevy of painful and complicated emotions both related and unrelated to Kristin Hayter’s relationship to Catholicism. While not nearly as extreme and macabre as Sinner Get Ready, De Mannen Broeders’ Sober Maal approaches music from a similar perspective—Amenra frontman Colin van Eeckhout and Flemish folk musician Tonnie Dieleman use religious themes as a framework for coming to terms with death and grief. ‘Sober maal’ is a Dutch phrase that in a Christian context describes a small meal one has in the name of practicing gratitude; let’s count our blessings and fully digest the contents of this sober maal.

Recorded in a church in Zeeland, Sober Maal favors simplicity in its folk compositions: opener “Alle Roem is Uitgesloten” (All Fame Is Out of the Question) utilizes very little outside of a droning hurdy gurdy and sparse piano to build to its choral conclusion. The rest of Sober Maal follows suit, as tracks begin with a simple idea that is surreptitiously expanded upon, like the slowly accelerating percussion of “Verteere Heel” (Digest Whole) or the teetering motif that conjures funereal reflection on the title track. Sober Maal also features several spoken word segments that act as palate cleansers between some of the more monolithic hymns.

While simplicity often betrays a dearth of compositional ideas, for De Mannen Broeders, it is a vessel for accessibility and deep meditative atmospheres. Everything from the production to the songwriting feels salt-of-the-earth, even down to the poetry: despite my limited experience studying Dutch, I was able to follow along with several pieces without needing to translate due to its relative simplicity. “Verteere Heel” begins with just a simple one-two percussive pattern, but the weight of each hit is felt deep as its sonic footprint is carved into the church’s negative space; moreso as both the percussion and the accompanying vocals increase in intensity and speed near the song’s conclusion. Similarly, “Sober Maal” utilizes a repeating melody that is accentuated by piano stabs, imposing a weighty heartbreak through its mournful rumination on a single idea.

With a keen sense of space, De Mannen Broeders take full advantage of the ecclesiastical setting: buzzing folk instruments and somber musings reverberate endlessly along the walls of the church, creating an all-encompassing sound that flirts with mysticism all within a minimal palette. “Grafschrift” (Epitaph) is mostly comprised of mandolin and vocals, but the power and fullness in their delivery is augmented by a persistent reverb, vocal lines punctuated by the relative silence in their separation. “Alle Roem is Uitgesloten” most directly utilizes drone ideas, guiding the listener into a trance before concluding with a moving choral passage. “Onze Lieve Vrouwe” (Our Dear Lady) takes the opposite approach to “Alle Roem”: a hurdy gurdy briefly establishes the mood as the space is filled with transcendent choral passages, only being brought back to the forefront as a complement to the choir in its closing moments. “Omer III”¹ opts for a more subdued approach, as its central focus is a spoken word passage over contemplative droning.

Sober Maal’s poetry sits in stark opposition to its musical pieces, putting into perspective the fullness evoked by the instrumentation and choir. De Mannen Broeders’ ability to create such powerful tension and release through simplistic compositions and clever use of negative space by juxtaposing full reverberating soundscapes with sparse silence is laudable. “Ons Nu Voorbij” (Past Us Now) does the best job at organically incorporating these poems through a seamless transition from former track “Onze Lieve Vrouwe,” evoking the feeling of a speaker closing a funeral service after a hymn. Additionally, “Omer III” does well with its spoken word, though it is accompanied by musical backdrop, distinguishing it from other poetic passages. 

The spoken word approach does not pay off entirely, however: “Asemruumte” (Breathing Space) is a bit too repetitive and is clunky in execution, setting a negative precedent for the otherwise decent spoken sections later on Sober Maal. Moreover, the transition from “Alle Roem” to “Asemruumte” is relatively sudden, the lack of an audio cue making the poetry feel unprecedented and jarring. “Van Licht Ontdaan” (Bereft of Light) sits somewhere in the middle, posturing as a decent if somewhat forgettable palate cleanser. Moreover, while the choir performance forms one of Sober Maal’s central points of interest, some of the lines are rhythmically awkward: “Alle Roem Is Uitgesloten” and “Grafschrift” are particularly guilty of shoving too many syllables into lines, though “Grafschrift” handles this better as it only features two singers as opposed to an entire chorus, which stops the track from becoming too muddied with voices.

In its last moments, De Mannen Broeders encourage us to move forward even while holding on to grief: closing poem “Ons Nu Voorbij” asserts that bringing together people who care has real meaning, and that it’s important to look after ourselves in the name of those who have left us. There is space inside us for the people we have lost, but still space to continue growing and experience life in full, as our deceased loved ones surely would have wanted. Sober Maal is a beautiful and cathartic folk release, effectively using a religious context and a simple songwriting approach to articulate the complications of loss and grief, and ultimately serving as a reminder to give space for the things we are grateful for.

Recommended tracks: Onze Lieve Vrouwe, Grafschrift, Omer III, Verteere Heel
You may also like: Natural Snow Buildings, Hellvete, The Visit, Sangre de Muérdago + Judasz & Nahimana
Final verdict: 8/10

Related links: Bandcamp | Spotify

Label: Relapse Records – Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Website

De Mannen Broeders is:
– Tonnie Dieleman (banjo, mandolin, vocals)
– Colin van Eeckhout (hurdy gurdy, percussion, vocals)
– Pim van de Werken (piano, organ)

1. I’m being told by my official Dutch fact-checker (aka co-writer Tim) that this text is from Omer Gielliet (1925-2017), a catholic priest and artist from Breskens, The Netherlands. ︎

The post Missed Album Review: De Mannen Broeders – Sober Maal appeared first on The Progressive Subway.